Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Reflections.	By : Wilde_Guess Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 358 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The “Harry Potter Universe” belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic Press, Warner Brothers, and others who are not me. This work is unpaid fanfiction, and I make no money from it.

Chapter List
- 1-The Journeys Begin
- 1
The usual disclaimers for Harry Potter Fanfiction apply. The “Harry Potter Universe” belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic Press, Warner Brothers, and others who are not me. This work is unpaid fanfiction, and I make no money from it. While I will minimize direct quoting, a FEW direct and near direct quotes from the US Hardcover Editions of the Rowling books will occur under "fair use."

While this is a real story with a real plot, it is also a “character study” of characters from Riding the Lincoln Way and The Yankee’s Nephew and the Philosopher’s Stone, as well as the Hogwarts Mystery video game and the rest of the JKR Universe. Harry Potter will appear.

Chapter 1. The Journeys Begin

It was five-thirty in the morning of Friday the sixteenth of July 1982. David John Hernando Rush-Cook Dvorak awoke startled. He awoke his girlfriend, Saria Beatrice Cook as he woke up. He wasn’t startled by Saria; they had fallen asleep totally nude in each other’s arms the night before. But he was startled by his surroundings. When he’d gone to sleep, Saria and he were on a full size bed. He and Saria awoke in a twin bunk bed with bed sheets fashioned into bed curtains.

The two lovers had been born within seconds of each other at 3:27 PM on the twentieth of October in 1970, with David being born at Holy Cross Hospital in Chicago, and Saria being born at Grundy County Hospital, in Morris, Illinois. Despite their young age, their adult caregivers were allowing the two lovers to share intimacy, to the point that Saria was taking birth control pills.

They were also the “same” to each other as they thought they were the night before, at least at first glance and hug. At five foot one and one hundred pounds, Saria was slightly taller than average for her age, with shoulder-blade length black hair, a light but healthy tan, and blue eyes. David was the same height as his girlfriend, and just 10 pounds or so heavier, which made him noticeably taller than average for his age. His bright red hair was short without being excessively so for the time, he was quite freckled, and when he opened his eyes, they were silver, which was a very uncommon eye color outside of his family.

After closing their eyes and sharing a good-morning kiss, Saria asked, “David, why do you have a stick tied to your arm?”

David asked in reply, “You’re you, Saria, and I’m me, but something’s wrong. Last night, you knew the ‘stick’ was my magic wand. We were also on our full size bed in Number Two, not one of the bunk beds in Number Four with blankets subbing for bed curtains.”

Saria informed him, “Last night you had no stick, but you had five mostly healed scars on your inside and front upper right thigh. This morning, you have the stick and no scars. I’m probably the one having the weird dream, since Number Two and Number Four sound like characters from The Prisoner instead of addresses.”

“Saria, either we’re both having a weird dream or something’s very wrong. Where are we now?”

“We’re in Mokena, Illinois, in my bed in the ‘girls’ bedroom.’ Where were we last night from what you remember?”

After a moment’s silence, David told her, “We were in Number 2 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, in Ashford, Surrey. That’s just south of Heathrow Airport, in the UK. Are we in my birth-father’s house, or Dad’s ‘Limestone Treasure Palace?’”

“If that’s what you call it, it would be the Palace. Where was your birth-father’s house compared to the ‘Palace?’”

“Right across the street. Dad had much fancier stuff, and more of it, but we had more pianos.”

The blanket acting as the bed-curtain facing into the bedroom got pulled down to reveal the other three female occupants of the room. Patricia Susan “Pixie,” who David assumed was still a Drake, was already dressed for the day in a halter top and jean shorts. She was fourteen, four foot ten, and weighed 104 pounds. Like David, who was her first cousin, she had silver eyes. But she tanned evenly and had strawberry-blond hair, which was wavy and worn at shoulder length.

She asked, “David, are you high, or just fucking with us? Either way, it’s not funny.”
David asked her, “Ubi est virga tua? Novistine magicam?”
Pixie asked in turn, “Etiam Latine loqui potes? Non potuisti heri.”
“Promitto tibi Latinum meum melius fuisse quam tua nocte, consobrina tua. A Dalila, moje čeština byla taky schůdná.”
Sixteen year old Delilah Johnson, who was wearing a tube top and jean shorts, was five foot five and about 125 pounds. Her strawberry blond hair was slightly longer than Pixie’s but still shoulder length. Her skin was evenly tanned but her blue eyes glittered in consternation while she asked, “Okay, Merlin. Where’s David? You aren’t bughouse, but ‘you’ couldn’t speak Czech at all last night, and you couldn’t quite speak Latin, either. How good was he, Pixie?”
“He speaks identically to Uncle Rick, including the odd accent. Whoever ‘Merlin’ is, he grew up speaking Latin like I did.”
After a pregnant pause, David offered, “The only thing I can think of that this resembles was a legend that usually needed a magic stone to make happen. I certainly wasn’t off rock hunting last night, and I don’t think the David that was here last night was, either. And I’m guessing that you’ve never studied magic, Pixie?”
After an even longer pregnant pause, Pixie answered, “That’s so deep into the weeds of familia negotium that if any of you mention it outside of this room you will be arrested.”
David asked, “Didn’t the Family sign a treaty with MaCUSA in 1965?”
“We did, David, but there’s still the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy to deal with. Grandma Rose had barely started teaching me before she died, and I still haven’t seen any of the Family Wand Crafters. Show me your wand?”
David twisted his right wrist, and he was holding a magic wand, which somewhat resembled a conductor’s baton except being thicker. David told Pixie, “It’s from Ollivander’s in London. Sakura wood, eleven and three quarter inches long, phoenix tail feather core, and supple.”
“May I hold it?” Pixie asked after hitching her breath in surprise.
“You may touch it” David replied somewhat coldly.
Pixie touched the side of David’s wand and drew her hand away quickly. She told the room, “That wand’s real, and you’d have to be really powerful Magically in order to get such a wand as David’s to accept you. One of the first things you learn about wand lore is that it is the wand that chooses the wizard or witch, and not the other way around.”
David informed the room, “In ‘my’ last night, Dad, Danny, Michael, our cousins Andy Floyd, A.D. Dvorak, and Sally Dvorak, along with my younger brothers Aaron and Paul could wield magic, along with the two of us. Dad’s wife was a Squib, but the son and daughter she bore Dad are a wizard and a witch, and the one she’s carrying now is almost certainly magical. Her younger sister’s son, who we had to take in, is also a wizard.”
Fourteen-year-old Debbie Ptak, the last of the girls in the room, was five foot three and one hundred four pounds. She was wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts. Her coloring was identical to her older full-sister Delilah, but her hair was in a “pixie-cut.” She asked David, “Who lived and who died?”
To everyone else’s confusion, she added, “If this isn’t some kind of cosmic mind-fuck from Pixie and David, then some people died, and some didn’t. Since David didn’t freak out seeing any of us, we were alive in, “his world?” But David’s just a little bit heavier than he was yesterday, and nothing’s wrong with his hair.   Anyway, some of the people we know died for both him and us, but not necessarily at the same time. Others who are alive for us were dead for David yesterday. And others might be dead for us, but alive for him. And still others might be alive both here and there, but either David doesn’t know them or we don’t. And this is why I read science fiction, Delilah.”
After all five of them laughed, David suggested, “We might start by asking back and forth, Debbie.”
Debbie replied, “Okay, who are you calling ‘Dad?’”
David replied, “John Abner Dvorak. He was my paternal uncle before.”
“You referred to John’s wife as John’s wife. Why?”
“Because if we’re all in Mokena, then Dad never met her, because she’s English. Otherwise, I’d call her ‘Mom’ like I did once they got married.”
“Who were your birth parents?” Debbie continued.
“They were Richard Christopher Dvorak and Stacy Rush Dvorak, nee Cook, double-nee Taylor.”
“Did they both raise you?”
“Of course. They were happily married until they died.”
“How many full siblings by blood do you have?”
“Two younger brothers. Aaron’s my third birthday present, and Paul just turned five on the first, providing that it’s Friday the sixteenth of July here.”
Debbie assured him, “You’ve got an Aaron and a Paul here, too. Same birthdays and stuff. You weren’t surprised to see Pixie, Delilah, or me, and you got all of our names right. So, we’re supposed to be here. What are Delilah and me to each other, and what happened to our parents.”
“Delilah’s and your parents were actually the first of the lot to die. Dad and Aunt Cathy lived with your maternal grandparents ‘til 1969. Dad found this place in Mokena, and he and Aunt Cathy bought it. He stayed at home while Aunt Cathy kept working at the Playboy Club and modeling in porn magazines, at least until Danny and Michael were both old enough for all-day pre-school. Then, he went to work selling Cadillacs, Buicks, and Oldsmobiles.
“Tomas and Sandy Ptak moved out right after we did. Tomas worked at Republic Steel. Sandy stayed at home, since her back was messed up and she couldn’t drop the weight back off to keep her Playboy Club job after having Debbie, which suited Tomas just fine. Sandy ended up hooked on pills and booze to dull the back pain, ‘til 1971. I’m told that she dropped the two of you girls off with Aunt Cathy to baby-sit, and met Tomas in the parking lot of the mill. She shot Tomas four times in the crotch, once in the head, and ate the last bullet for dessert—or at least so I was told. I was born in ’70, and my earliest clear memory is being in the delivery room watching my birth-mother give birth to Aaron in ’73, so I only remember Delilah and you, who are full sisters even though Tomas never gave her his name, living here.”
Pixie decided to get into the game by asking, “Why weren’t you surprised to see me here?”
David told his cousin, “Kevin and Wilma Drake were visiting the Captain and his family on the twentieth of January in 1978. They left Pixie with her great-aunt. I invited Tim Cash, who was my friend by then, for a sleep-over at my place. When we woke up on the twenty-first, we found out that both apartment buildings had been firebombed and were burned to the ground, with no survivors at all. Dad ended up taking both Tim and you in. Oddly enough, Rosacio Floyd was found burned to death in her ’56 Packard with a lot of broken bones about a week later. In another unusual coincidence, Harley Floyd got his throat cut in Pontiac."
Pixie told David, “They died a lot more recently here than they did for you, but my parents are dead, and it was a side effect of the Family Business, if barely. What happened to have you, and all of us, move to London?”
After gathering his thoughts for a moment, David told the room, “Aunt Cathy was the oldest of three girls. Aunt Hannah, who is still alive ‘for me,’ was the middle sister, and my birth mother was the youngest. Aunt Cathy took Aunt Hannah and ran away from home because their parents were abusive religious sociopaths. Those people had my birth mother taken away from them and adopted by Saria’s grandparents.
“Aunt Hannah ended up meeting Uncle Junior when she went to UIUC as a student in the mid-1960s. They have two kids, A.D. and Sally. We cousins always got along okay, but Dad and my birth-father barely got along with Uncle Junior or Uncle William. If not for Aunt Cathy, my birth mother, and especially Aunt Hannah, they’d have probably remained enemies to this day.
“On September third, my birth parents and Aunt Cathy went to visit with Saria’s maternal grandparents and mother. Aaron, Paul, and I went along as well. Saria’s grand-dad had a fifteen passenger Dodge Van, and we were all driving south in it to meet up with the rest of the family for a Labor Day Cookout and overnight stay at Grandma Dvorak’s old place in Coal City.
“Anyway, we were all meeting up at Grandma Dvorak’s old place in Coal City for a back-yard cookout Dad was hosting there. He took Danny, Michael, Tim, Delilah, and Debbie to help him set up and get the food cooking. The Dodge Van ran fine, but it wasn’t built for a semi crossing the centerline of Route 47 and running into us head-on. Us kids made it out relatively unscathed, since we were all in the very back and wearing our seatbelts. Saria was in the hospital for several weeks. Aaron’s Paul’s and my magic, though we didn’t know it at the time, protected us from anything more than a few scrapes and bumps, and it mostly protected Saria, too.
“Dad decided that while he wanted to keep working, that he wanted to get the hell away from Mokena for a few years. So he called an old friend from the Army, and got a job at the US Embassy in London. When we moved out there, he met one of the pool typists at the embassy, and it was about as close to love at first sight as it comes. They married on the first of September in 1979.”
Debbie asked, “Okay. What did John do in the Army? And was your birth father ever in the Army?”
David told them, “The only sons of Hernando DeSoto Floyd or Sally Dvorak who didn’t serve were Uncle Joaquin, who died of polio as a kid, and Carlos, aka Harley, who was a total fuck-up and a piece of shit. Aunt Wilma was the ‘baby’ of the family, and she married a guy who was the Captain’s Battalion RTO back in ‘Nam. Pure coincidence, but it happened. Uncle Frank served in the early stages of the Korean War and won a Silver Star. Uncle Junior and Uncle William were both drafted and became cooks in the late 1950s. Dad and my birth father both joined in 1962 as regulars. Dad was a Special Forces Team Medic and Team Chief. He won the Medal of Honor along with a DSC, several Silver Stars, and such. Dad got medically retired from the Army after he lost the lower half of his lower left leg. He was trying to stay in, and he was posted at Fort Sheridan while receiving physical therapy at Great Lakes. He ended up meeting a Playboy Bunny in March of ’67, and Danny was born in December. Since Aunt Cathy wasn’t cut out for being an Army wife, he let the Army retire him, and he and Aunt Cathy got married six months after Michael was born.
“My birth father became a CH-47 Helicopter pilot, and served in Vietnam until they retired him. Grandpa Hernando “bought” a few doctors at Fort Wolters so my birth father’s asthma was not “discovered.” He was able to hide it for a few years after arriving ‘in-country.’ But flying combat missions every day eventually made his asthma so bad that he almost needed an oxygen bottle just to walk from the Operations Tent to his helicopter. He was promoted to CW2 years ahead of his peers, and they promoted him to CW3 right before they medically retired him. When he got home, he started Orchard Municipal Helicopter Service so he could keep flying. He turned out to be a ‘natural’ at running and growing it. By the time he died, Orchard Muni was more than large and strong enough to be turned over to a good management team”
Pixie decided to get into the game by asking, “Have you ever heard of a ‘Sam Kopchek?’”
After thinking for a moment, David told them, “He was one of Harley’s guys, along with being my birth-mother’s first husband. According to what my birth-father told me, Kopchek, along with his two younger brothers, came up with some kind of crazy-ass scheme to drug my birth father and her, have her get pregnant by my birth-father raping her, and use the films of the ‘rape’ along with that child to blackmail my birth father into doing whatever Sam Kopchek wanted. My birth parents discovered the plot first and “made arrangements” for the Kopcheks. Sam was found, and the other two weren’t found. The ‘Widow Kopchek’ decided that having a child with my birth father voluntarily might actually be fun. So, they made me and managed to marry civilly before I was born.”
She followed up with, “You ever hear of Joe Stock?”
After thinking again for half a minute, David told them, “Yeah. Tim taught him how to play the drums when they were in Band together back at St. Mary’s. Joe had a brother around my age, but we never really hung out with each other, and I can’t remember his name. They had a sister too, I think.”
“How many kids did John and Cathy have?” Delilah queried.
After laughing for about fifteen seconds, David regained his composure. He explained, “You’re dating “Manžel” Danny here, too; that was the funny part. The answer itself is sad. Sally Catherine Dvorak was supposed to be born within a day or so either way as Aaron. She was born premature in August ‘cause of rH antibody stuff. She barely lived twelve hours. They were all devastated, enough that even I kinda remember it. Danny was perhaps the most devastated of all.
“Dad and Aunt Cathy had Sally’s body frozen to go into the coffin of whichever of them died first. So, she’s in Aunt Cathy’s casket with Aunt Cathy at Arlington. The rest of the family who died are buried in Morris, Coal City, and Effingham.”
Delilah replied, “I call Danny ‘Papírák,’ but Debbie and I didn’t grow up next to you guys. I’ll eventually tell you the details, but Tomas Ptak had an “accident” at the Mill. He had it coming. Mom didn’t take it so well, so she ate a gun in the parking lot of the gun store, wiping out the station wagon along with herself. Debbie and I actually lived on our own for several months before re-making John’s acquaintance. The steelworkers union got me a house and a rust-free ’70 Ambassador that had so few miles on it that it could pass for new. Dad’s almost got my house fully rebuilt, and he’ll furnish too; but if I ever live in the place it won’t be any time soon. I might get my Ambassador back today with the last of the repairs done on it.”
Changing the subject, David asked, “Did I at least bring a bathrobe with me last night? I need to use the bathroom and get dressed in something.” His stomach grumbled loudly to make his point.”
Pixie, Debbie, and Delilah looked at him sternly. Saria disagreed with them, and told them, “This isn’t the David we had last night. But, he’s our David now, and at least for now. David and I will go into the bathroom and get ready for the day. If one of you can bring fresh clothes and underwear for us, please? We’ll leave the door unlocked.
“And David, it’s just after six, and we’re just crossing the hallway, so deal with it. I won’t be putting anything on either.”
David blushed down to his chest, but he replied, “Sure, Saria.”
The two young nude lovers crossed the hall quickly, closing but not locking the bathroom door behind them. After a quick gesture from Saria, David used the toilet first. While they maneuvered through the process of quickly showering, brushing teeth, and getting ready for the day, they talked.
David started by telling Saria, “I was only blushing ‘cause of Delilah, Debbie, and Pixie. We didn’t do it nearly as often as we wanted, ‘cause I had Aaron and Paul to help and take care of, but we liked to get naked with each other and share the bathroom and stuff.”
Saria asked, “Is that invisible wand holder on your arm waterproof?”
“Yeah, thank God. I’ll have to wear it in the shower this morning. By this afternoon, if whatever happened doesn’t un-happen, we should all be comfortable enough that I can take it off without worrying; but only for showering and the like, and I’ll still have to wear it to bed. If I didn’t have my wand with me when this happened, I have no clue how I would have dealt with it. And thank God Pixie at least has magic.”
“That makes sense I guess. Still, we need to talk about sex, and about both versions of you. We were obviously that far along in our relationship in your world as well as mine. Who else did you had sex with?”
Most guys would get upset, evasive, or indignant receiving such a question from their girlfriend. David simply answered, “No one. No girls, no guys, nothing. I didn’t even jack off that much, and I only did that because I started having wet dreams, and masturbating made those stop. The ‘other you’ told me to try that, by the way.”
“Okay, David. If we’re lucky, whatever happened to switch you with the David I went to bed with last night will un-happen. But, you will learn a lot about what the other David did, and he will learn the same about you. Also, we will either have sex with each other or we won’t. I give my word that if we don’t, but the ‘other’ David and Saria do have sex that I won’t give him any grief about it. If both pairs of us have sex, I don’t see any problem. But if we have sex where they don’t, I give my word that I will accept any rebuke without complaint, and that I will let him quit me if he sees fit to do so, but that I will never knowingly lie to him about ‘us’ no matter what. Do I have your word for the other Saria?”
“Yes, Saria” he answered sincerely and without hesitation.
“Good. Second, I need your word that you will not judge the other David, or the ones he’s had sex with voluntarily, or anyone else who was supposed to care for you. Do I have it?”
David hesitated for a moment before answering, “I give my word. It sounds like the other David had a lot of problems in his life. How bad? And he also has good taste in clothes.”
David had just finished dressing after drying himself off and putting on deodorant. He was wearing a “blown-out” yellow tank top and faded blue jeans with a belt. The jeans were loose on him, and also about three inches short of covering his ankle.   Saria could tell by his expression that he was actually sincere in his comment. She was also only slightly surprised when he started doing basic barre stretches, alternating between the bathroom countertop and windowsill as needed.
After sighing, Saria asked, “Did you at least get lessons for your Vagina Carcinoma shit instead of just teaching yourself like he did?”
Once he got his laughing under control, without even pausing his stretching, David replied, “It’s ‘Vaganova-Cecchetti,’ and Mommy had the devil of a time finding a teacher who even understood what I’d made up, much less being able to teach it. And, while she didn’t really pay attention when I checked the books out of the library, she absolutely paid attention when she caught me stretching, and got scared that I’d rip every tendon out of my body trying to teach myself. So, I got ballet lessons to go along with the piano and guitar lessons. So long as Aaron was where I could see him, I was fine. I picked it up well enough that I could teach myself once everyone died and Dad took us out to England, which saved everyone a lot of bother we just didn’t have the time to deal with. And it’s still a shame that dishwashers make more money than ballet dancers. Dancing makes me feel alive, but I couldn’t afford to live like that.”
Saria sighed before answering, “He felt exactly the same way. And the dancing is amazing, even if watching either of you stretch so you can keep doing it makes me nervous and I can’t remember what it’s called.
“I’ll go through the troubles the other David had as quickly as I can. It will hurt you. Even so, we’ll only have time for me to tell the basics. I can tell you more about the details later, at least as far as he’s told me. But we just weren’t together long enough for him to tell me everything.
“Sam Kopchek stayed married to your birth-mother until just over a week ago. Her divorce is already final. Kopchek is still alive, and he’s in either the Kendal or DuPage County jail awaiting trial on child abuse and countless charges of gay-raping children and youths, and making videos of all that. His two younger brothers are up on at least some of the same charges, and they’re also in jail.
“Kopchek did do the fake-rape-thing with your birth-father and it worked, with the added bonus that your birth-mother randomly abused you, especially when she was on her period or had been drinking, along with turning a blind-eye to all of Kopchek’s stunts, at least for a while. Kopchek started raping you along with the severe beatings he was already giving you last Ash Wednesday. Three weeks ago today, he made Aaron rape you, and the other you made Aaron go along with it so he wouldn’t be raped alongside the other you. That day, Tim Cash and Pixie Drake got married, and they had their wedding reception here. You drank enough booze to kill a horse, Michael got it puked out of you, and John made Stacy give up custody of you to him before realizing that you were his nephew. He adopted you three weeks ago tomorrow.
“And before you ask, Kopchek had your hair died brown and made you wear contacts that changed your eye color to brown. And we’ve only been dating for two weeks yesterday.”
“How bad is Aaron?” David asked in a near panic.
“Aaron’s getting by. Kopchek hurt him again right after you left Stacy, but he’s safe now. Your birth-father was supposedly killed in a large explosion in Effingham the same day John adopted you. That allowed him to ‘give up’ the identity of Ricardo Floyd, and live as Rick Dvorak full time. Hernando Floyd didn’t buy a doctor at Fort Wolthers, so Rick washed out of flight training. But he did learn how to fly afterwards and still set up the helicopter company. Rick and John spoke for the first time since their mother died a week and a half ago, and they reconciled completely. Once she saw the truth of what Kopchek pulled with Ricardo Floyd, Stacy discovered that she actually liked Rick Dvorak. He’s renting my Mom’s old house down the street, and Stacy’s living with him along with Aaron, Paul, and your three year old half-sister Christina. Kopchek got Stacy pregnant with them. The kids are all mousey-brown and average size for their age.
“As for Mom, she married John a week ago, and they’re both certain that Mom’s pregnant. And before you freak out, he loves her like a mom, but he calls her Miss Cook, and both she and John let him. I’m the same with your dad.”
David opined, “I guess the other David was really fucked. But who did he voluntarily have sex with, and why are you putting up with it?”
After sighing to not snap at David, she replied, “I ‘put up with it’ because he needed to, he never lied to me, and because he’s worth all the effort. I saw that the very moment I first met him. The more I got to know him, the more desirable he was to me. He suffered so much, yet he never gave up or lost his humanity. He will start high school this year, despite starting school late and being held back another year out of spite…”
David quieted Saria by chastely kissing her on the lips. He assured her, “I meant no slight against either David or you. He and you truly started falling in love at first sight, and decided to spend the rest of your lives together before the day was done. I was the same way with the Saria I grew up with. We first met nine years ago yesterday. Neither one of us had any idea how a baby got in its mother, even with me watching Aaron come out of mine.
“But who did I sleep with? I’m guessing it was at least one guy with the rape shit going on, and with you not just saying their name.”
After sighing again, Saria told him, “You’ve had consensual sex at least once with Danny, Michael, Andy Floyd who is now Andy Dvorak despite Frank Floyd still being alive, Bill Cash, Chris Cash, Tim Cash, and Max Stock.” John knows, but isn’t exactly stopping it. Mom is maintaining ‘plausible deniability,’ but she also knows. Grandpa and Grandma Cook know generally, but not the exact ‘body count.’ Rick knows what John does, and Stacy knows just enough that she thought you might be ‘getting ideas’ about Aaron and Paul…”
After squeezing David’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince, she continued, “… The other you already shut her down cold on that.”
David told her, “Thanks for stopping me, Saria. You aren’t the Saria I grew up with, and I’m not the David you fell in love with. But we’re each different from the other only in the details. I don’t do gay sex, but I’m not an asshole to those who do, either.   In ‘my world’ or whatever, Danny and Michael were doing it with each other, with Delilah’s and Debbie’s permission. My Saria did get kinda jealous of Tim Cash when he’d gotten a crush on me without my realizing it. I set him up with a friend of mine in Devon who wanted to try ‘that,’ while also telling both of them that a sexual relationship between the two of them wouldn’t last beyond the end of the summer because of school, and that I was ‘off-limits.’ They’ve been ‘discretely having a good time with each other.’
“Will you keep helping me, Saria? I give you my word that I’ll keep listening.”
“David, I’ll keep helping you. I have to. I have no idea if I can get my David back, so you just might be the only David Dvorak in town. And while it’s only been two weeks, I’ve already realized that life without David Dvorak would only be existing. By the way, were you always ‘David?’ And, what’s your full name?”
“David John Rush-Cook Dvorak from birth. Daddy liked the name David, he honored Dad with John, and he was ‘kissing up’ to Mommy’s adopted brother with Rush-Cook. My Aaron is Aaron Russell Rush-Cook Dvorak, and Paul is Paul Tarsus Rush-Cook Dvorak. Me?”
“You were born Samuel Christopher Kopchek Junior. When John adopted you three weeks ago tomorrow, you chose the name ‘David John Michael Daniel Dvorak.’ David was for Samuel finding King David in the desert, John was to honor your new Dad, Michael was because Michael not only got the alcohol out of your system, but he also asked John to adopt you at the same time as you asked John to adopt you, and ‘Daniel’ was to honor Danny for being the ‘older twin’ and for taking care of both Michael and you.”
David asked, “Was the other David musical at all?”
“He sang an entire acapella double-funeral Mass, plus the graveside service a week and a half ago. Michael has started a band he’s calling ‘The Treasures,’ and we’re good enough that we’re actually negotiating a recording and publishing contract with CBS Records. I play soprano saxophone, David sings, and he’s also started to learn the bass guitar. You?”
“The Treasures has moved a bit faster in my world. We played a sold-out show at The Barbican in London last June fifth, and our first album is already Platinum. You play the soprano sax brilliantly. My normal instrument is the bass guitar, and Michael is barely better at it than me. I also play the six-string guitar very well, and I can do all right with the piano.   I’m better than Debbie, and almost as good as Delilah. Aaron outplays all of us on the piano, but he won’t even be nine ‘til October, and Michael’s more likely to use him on twelve string guitar, since he’s the only one in the family who can play one and sound any better than ‘okay.’
“If the other David and I end up being ‘swapped around’ for a while, he can just turn his bass off for the songs he can’t handle yet ‘til he catches up, since everybody notices Michael’s playing more. He should be musical enough that he just needs to learn how to play. That’ll still take a while, but no one outside of the band should notice. Has he written any songs?”
“He’s written two, You Can Make History Young Again, for both Big Band and Top-40, and Smoking Gun. You?”
“Same as him, plus Home By the Sea and Here Comes the Rain Again. I’ve also just started playing around with a song written last year by a New York Folk Singer, but I’ve only shared that with Saria so far. But I had two sets of parents who gave a fuck where the other David has only just escaped hell. And, we’d all been playing together in a ‘sorta-band’ since Dad moved us to the UK. My ‘Treasures’ have been playing as a band more or less for almost four years. How long for you guys?”
“Not even a month yet, David” Saria informed him.
Saria and David had entered the bathroom at six in the morning. They were both fully showered, teeth brushed, dressed, and ready for the day by twenty after. But now, it was twenty after seven, which the knock on the door and the entry of Daniel Andrew “Danny” Dvorak, along with Danny himself told them.
Danny was fourteen, and would turn fifteen on the twelfth of December. He stood five foot eight and weighed 125 pounds. He had silver eyes, a pale complexion, and burn scars on his right hand. His fine black hair was in a long braid that went down past the backs of his knees. His face was handsome yet stern looking, even when he was happy and smiling. In a speaking voice that would remind one of a teenaged Robert DeNiro where either David would be Ethan Peck, Danny announced, “Okay you two, you’ve been hiding in here for almost an hour after you got dressed. Do you have your stories straight?”
In answer to David’s and Saria’s sputtering, he informed them, “Pixie and Delilah told Dad what was going on as soon as the two of you got into the shower. While everyone else used Dad’s bathroom to get ready for the day, Dad called Uncle Frank, who backed you up and said he knew a little more about what probably happened. He’ll be by around eight or so, which will give the two of you just enough time to eat and for David to finish getting back some of his composure from finding out how different ‘the other half lived.’”
After looking at Danny’s hair intently for a moment, David asked, “What’s with the hair, Danny? That’s a bit long even for you.”
Danny answered the question with a question; “Was I ever in the hospital in your world?”
“Yeah, tail end of second grade for you. Dad took Michael and you out with the rest of the Cub Scout Troop you belonged to on an early May weekend campout. One of the other kids in the troop was a pyro and a nut-case. The kid threw a pint of gas on your sleeping bag, whether from spite or carelessness. Morphine didn’t really work on the other you, but Michael reading to you to distract you did. You guys were in the hospital for over a month, and it took most of the summer for you to heal up all the way.”
“Did I have any problems with one of the nurses messing with my hair all the time?”
“Yeah. But it was more that Aunt Cathy was too freaked out to visit you before the surgeries, or even after, at least at first; especially since Morphine didn’t really work for you. And it had to be Michael reading and talking to you. I tried, Daddy, tried, and Dad tried, but we just weren’t anywhere near as good as Michael was.
“You weren’t all that fussed ‘bout seein’ Aunt Cathy, but Michael was getting kinda frayed around the edges. And unlike you, he actually liked her as well as loved her. So, when the nurse kept playing with and trimming your hair, which was starting to get a little long, you lit up that poor nurse like a Christmas tree. Aunt Cathy finally went up to Great Lakes, gave you a buzz-cut, and got Michael to quit stressing out as much as he had been. She tried to take Michael home with her, but he started throwing a fit, so she left him in your room and left. And it was Michael who told me ‘bout that part later on. After that, you wore your hair longer, but only to your shoulder-blades in a pony tail.”
Danny chuckled and replied, “Michael must have forgotten to tell ya’ ‘bout the blood-oath, especially since your Danny got ‘trimmed up’ the same or next day.
“In this world, Catherine Taylor had her tubes tied and ditched us the very day she gave birth to Michael, ‘cause she wasn’t a good mother, and she was convinced that she’d end up abusing us and get us taken away from Dad if she stuck around. Michael and I knew that she and Dad communicated with her somehow, but since she was never there, we almost never missed her.
“Michael was missing her when I was in the hospital, and that nurse wouldn’t stop messing with my hair. So, I told her off and made a blood-oath that only Mom-Catherine would be the next person to cut my hair, even if it grew past both my and the nurse’s.
“Dad did try to get her to come out and cut my hair over the years, but it never happened. So, he buys the ‘fancy’ and very expensive shampoo and conditioner for me that you saw in the shower, and what you see is what you get. She died last February. Michael and I’ve seen only pictures of her.”
David asked, “Is the bucket and stepstool for the hair, too?”
“The stepstool is only when I’m showering alone, and I sit on it. The bucket helps me get a good rinse without pissing through gallons of hot water.”
Out of left field, David asked, “Were you my first voluntary time, or was Michael?”
After getting control of his breath, and while Michael himself walked into the room, Danny answered, “It was both Michael and me, though it was just a little more Michael. And…”
David interrupted, “Neither one of you owes either David an apology. If anything, he might owe the two of you one, but if he needed that, he really needed it. I’m guessing that he enjoyed it?”
To the blushing and sputtering of the other three people in the room, David added, “Just idle curiosity. I can easily guess that he did at least as much asking as getting asked if not more, and I already promised Saria that I wouldn’t be an asshole about it.
“But like you said, Danny, I need to get out and eat breakfast. First, though, I need a quick list of who’s dead and who’s alive. Rick Dvorak and Stacy are alive, and I have a sister here I didn’t get where I came from. Since Bill and Chris are alive, I’m guessing that the Captain and his wife are alive, but that Ms. DeVos is dead, since Chris is now Chris Cash. Miss Cook married Dad last week, and thinks they’re expecting. Uncle Frank freaked out too much about Andy’s dyslexia, and Dad took Andy in. Anything else I need to know?”
Michael asked, “What do you know about Dad’s older Dvorak brothers?”
“Aunt Hannah was the glue that patched our family back together, for a given value of ‘patched.’ A.D. and Sally were supposed to go to Magic School in Scotland with me, since Ilvermorny creeped them all out. Uncle William is dying of liver cancer, which Magic can’t fix, and Uncle Junior is still the Head of the English Department at UIUC.”
Michael replied, “We only learned about Aunt Hanna Wednesday, She, Junior, and Sally were killed in a car crash last month that we also only found out about Wednesday, and Dad adopted A.D. at the same time he adopted Andy yesterday. William is still dying of liver cancer, otherwise he would have kept custody of A.D., and he’s been taking care of him for the past month up to Wednesday evening.
“Holly DeVos is still alive, but she has liver cancer too, though there’s still a small chance for her. Just the same, she had the Captain and Sandy Cash adopt Chris now to beat the Christmas rush. It’s not like we didn’t all know or at least strongly suspect they were brothers since first grade.
“Also, if it hasn’t already come up, Catherine Taylor left you an insurance payoff in a eight digit or better trust fund, and Ricardo Floyd left you a huge trust fund, along with a ’66 Cadillac Fleetwood Derham sedan.”
“How much of that is he taking back?” David asked.
Danny told him, “None. Beyond giving people Ideas they shouldn’t have about how dead Rico Floyd is if he tried, he’s got more than enough money as Richard Dvorak and doesn’t need or want any of yours. Not like any of us kids who ‘have money’ can touch any of it directly any time soon anyhow. What year in school would you have been starting?”
“First year of high school, although I earned it with less outside bullshit and hurt than the David you know did when he earned it. Or, I could start at one of two Magic Boarding Schools. You’ll find out when I do.”
Danny replied, “That’s one less worry if they don’t get you two switched back around. How are you with music?”
“My voice is just as good as his is, plus I can play both bass and six-string guitar, including slide guitar, plus piano. I know the two he’s already written, ‘cause I wrote ‘em too; plus two more he hasn’t written yet.”
The group of now four youth left the family bathroom for the short walk to the dining area. David had expected to see everyone who lived in or was staying in the house that morning. He was pleasantly surprised to only see the doppelganger to his adopted father and the living doppelganger to his girlfriend’s late mother, seated beside each other on the love seat that faced the hallway from the opposite end of the living room.
John Abner Dvorak was still thirty-seven, still stood six foot and seven inches tall when standing, still appeared to weigh around 270 pounds, and was still red-haired, freckled, and saw the world through silver eyes. The sight of Beatrice Susan “Betty” Dvorak, nee Cook, almost caused David to faint, even with his expecting her, and even with her being four years older than she was almost four years ago when she had been taken from his life. She was still five foot four inches tall and weighed about 120 pounds, and shared the exact coloration of her daughter. When she spoke, her voice was a pleasant and medium in tone.
She inquired, “How are you holding up, David?”
Regaining some of his composure, he told her, “I’m trying to keep up, Miss Cook. Depending on how much Pixie told you, you could imagine that it isn’t easy."
“What did you call me before today?”
“Once you started teaching, I called you ‘Miss Cook,’ and I continued to call you that while you were alive. We’re first cousins once removed by adoption, and since Saria and I were already dating steady, we really wanted everyone to forget about that.
“I started first grade in Mokena the same year you started teaching first grade at Mokena. I ended up testing into second grade in November, and both Tim Cash and I tested into third grade in March. Aaron decided to get into the game, and he tested into first grade right after I tested out. That’s the farthest they’d let him go that year, since he only turned five in October. So, you taught both Aaron and me your first year teaching, just not at the same time.”
John asked, “Are you wearing underpants?”
David asked in return, “Did you want to check for my birthmark?”
To John’s nod, David stood before John and unfastened and dropped his jeans, allowing for John to check the birthmark he had on the inside of his left upper thigh. After John sat back up and nodded again, David pulled his jeans back up, fastening both his jeans and his belt. David asked, “What should I call you?”
John looked David in the eye and replied in kind, “What did you call John Dvorak yesterday?”
David looked John in the eye and replied, “Dad.”
John told David, “There’s your answer. The four of you need to go into the dining area and eat your breakfasts, which Delilah and Debbie are setting out right now. We’ll talk more while the four of you eat. The rest of the kids who live in this house will join us after Frank does.
§§§

Once the six youth and teens were eating, with John and Betty drinking coffee, John provided more explanations.

“Part of why the rest of the kids are in the garage is because I wanted to see for myself what we were dealing with. Until I actually got your measure, for all I knew, you could have either been the David I had yesterday gone insane or been a complete stranger, either one of which would need to be dealt with far differently than what we actually have on our hands. You are who you believe you are, and that is my adopted son David Dvorak from a parallel universe, hopefully with the David I had yesterday in your place and being properly cared for by ‘that’ me.

“The bigger part is because you quite literally got jammed into someone else’s life, and they are hopefully in yours. You’ll be seeing people who either died in your old life, or lived under different circumstances. For example, what do you know about Sally Dvorak’s eldest sons?”

David answered easily between bites, “I’ve talked some of that out with all the girls, and a little more with Saria while we got dressed and stuff. Grandma Dvorak had four children, all boys. Abner Doubleday Dvorak Junior was ‘Uncle Junior’ to me, because somehow all three ‘Taylor Girls’ forced enough of a reconciliation that we at least knew each other, and all of us cousins got along okay. Uncle William Clay Dvorak was fully gay where Uncle Junior was bisexual. Uncle Junior and Uncle William were, and in ‘my world’ still are lovers, along with Aunt Hannah still being alive. The other Uncle William also has metastasized liver cancer, and he isn’t expected to live out the summer.

“Richard Christopher Dvorak was born Ricardo Cristobal Floyd, and kept that name into his teens. He left House Floyd and finished ‘growing up’ with you, living with Grandma Dvorak in Coal City. In the other world, Grandpa Hernando ‘bought’ enough doctors to keep Daddy in the Army ‘til late ’66, when his asthma got so bad that you had him grounded, and he was medically retired. He might have started up Orchard Muni later than here because of that, or certainly differently. Mommy and He died in ’78, you adopted me, and Orchard Muni is still mine in trust, but being run by trustworthy and competent managers.

“You were always ‘John Abner Dvorak, and you were born in ’45. Uncle Junior and Uncle William’s father claimed you as his rather than publicly admit that he had his testicles shot off in the war. While you didn’t send him on his ‘Journey of Self-Discovery’ in 1956, you made sure that all of his bags were packed right.

“Aunt Cathy stuck around in my world, Mommy and Daddy paid-off Kopchek and his creepy brothers with aluminum before Kopchek could go into the porn film business, and decided that they really liked each other. Uncle Frank was more than happy enough to help Daddy take out the trash once Daddy had it all bagged up. I was at the wedding, but nobody really saw me.

“Aunt Cathy found out that Aunt Hannah married Uncle Junior when all of you with kids in tow showed up at Grandma Dvorak’s house in Coal City at the same time. Daddy and Mommy showed up later that day, and after Aunt Hannah did a lot of arm twisting, the family was mostly put back together. Aunt Hannah was the glue that mended our family, where Aunt Cathy found love and family an intellectual challenge and a duty. Mommy was more of a Cook than a Taylor once she batted her way out of the toxic orbit of Sam Kopchek.

“Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Cathy, Uncle Benji, Aunt Susan, Miss Cook, Saria, Aaron, Paul, and I were all in a Dodge passenger van driving out to Coal City for a cookout at Grandma Dvorak’s old place. You held onto it after Grandma Dvorak died, since you’d owned it with Grandma Dvorak since the mid ‘50s. You kept the place up at Aunt Cathy and Aunt Hannah’s request as a family gathering spot instead of renting the place out. The living room could be used to extend the dining room, Daddy still had the piano he got Grandma Dvorak that she never played, you had the house loaded with books in book cases and Persian rugs and stuff like here but smaller, and Mommy kept up the flowers that Daddy couldn’t take care of, since he couldn’t even take care of ours in Mokena…

“Sorry, memories can run away with you, I guess. That stuff is much nicer to remember than the alkie trucker crossing the centerline on Route 47 at the last minute. One moment we’re all laughing at something Uncle Benji said, the next half-second the grownups are screaming while Daddy was trying to steer the van anywhere the semi wasn’t going to be, and the next second I’m waking up in the Morris Hospital Emergency room with Delilah crying over me and Aaron begging me to wake up from the next gurney over. Saria and I got hit in the head pretty hard, and she was hurt more besides. Aaron was only scratched up, and Paul’s car seat kept him completely safe.”

John quipped sardonically, “I guess your Aunt Cathy had a thing for semis. In this world, she left and moved to California right after Michael was born. Last February, a semi driver who wasn’t drunk lost his brakes and lost control of his semi on the I-5 Grapevine. He went into the median, went air born, and the truck landed directly on top of her ’65 Corvair coupe. The car was crushed completely flat and burned to a crisp.

“Somehow, if she was still wearing our wedding ring and her engagement ring, they survived where she didn’t. At least, when her executor sent them out to me, they were worn, but still perfectly presentable. Even before I told her about them being at least your Grandmother Dvorak’s if not your Great-Grandmother Dvorak’s set, as well as my band being from the same set, she had no problem wearing them instead of having me buy another set.”

David offered, “The woman the ‘other you’ married in England, who I called ‘Mom,’ ended up wearing Aunt Cathy’s rings, too. She is a good person for the other John Dvorak, but from what little an almost twelve-year-old boy can tell, you are better off with Miss Cook. Until we talk with Uncle Frank, I won’t have any idea if I should even think about the UK right now.

“Saria has also explained, at least in broad terms, the full breadth of and reasons for my double’s ‘social life.’ I won’t judge him or anyone else because of it, and they did what was best as best they understood it. That stuff doesn’t bother me, but it’s just not for me. Other than maybe Saria, I won’t be able to keep up any of the other David’s ‘social obligations,’ though I also won’t interfere with or criticize the ‘social lives and obligations’ of others. If Saria and I do ‘that’ and the other David doesn’t, or if we don’t but he does, neither Saria nor I will say anything against him or be a jerk to him.

“But why would the other me get ‘busy’ with Max Stock? I barely remember Joe Stock from my world, and from what I’ve learned so far, the ‘me’ here didn’t exactly have a lot of friends at St. Mary’s.”

Danny decided to answer David, “There’s a lot of ‘context’ that will be much easier to explain later on. But, the ‘too fast’ version is Joe and Max’s sister Fiona is a sociopath and a schizophrenic. She’s been institutionalized now and won’t be getting out. But last May, she tricked Max into thinking that you tried to rape her. That’s the incident where the scars you don’t have came from, after Max chased you for a couple of miles from St. Mary’s into the Forest Preserve. In turn, you dislocated his right shoulder, broke his right arm, and barely stopped yourself from caving his skull in. A lot of other fucked-up stuff came out of that. Max also decided he wanted to try gay sex with his brother Joe, who went along with it, and they both liked it.

“Fiona tried to pull some similar shit with Aaron right here in the back yard, last Tuesday. That’s why she’s in the bughouse. Between Max staring at your crotch and ass, Pixie ‘egging things on’ for reasons that are only slightly messed up, and you wanting to not be bouncing back and forth between being terrified of Max and primed to kill him where he stands, you went along and had full and complete gay sex with Max at least twice. The other you seemed reasonably pleased, and Max acted like he’d never had it so good.”

“Are the Stock brothers in the band, or just friends? Joe I could see either way since David taught him how to play drums. And I honestly don’t remember Max Stock.”

“They’re both in the band” Michael offered. “We might not be as popular as Glen Miller was back in the day yet, but we sure are bigger.”

David laughed, “If there’s anyone who can make an actual rock orchestra to go up against ELO, you’d be the one.”

After everyone had a good laugh, Michael asked, “What kind of covers do your Treasures do?”

“We do bossa nova, but we haven’t performed any in public yet. We also do late ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s rock, with some R&B thrown in here and there. We open with our cover of I’m Just a Singer in a Rock and Roll Band, and we also cover ‘British Invasion’ bands.

“For the Barbican, we opened with Concrete and Clay, since Unit 4+2 filmed performing that song at the Barbican Construction Site in ’65. You’ve also had me cover Paolo Conte songs sometimes, since I can sing Italian and get the pronunciations spot-on with the damn Cuban accent. You usually have Tim sing those, since his voice is closer to Conte’s.

“When Daddy was a kid, he was the ultimate Desi Arnaz fan. And, everything he spoke other than English had a Cuban accent. His Spanish, of course, was Cuban, and guess which male parent taught me how to speak Latin?”

Debbie asked, “Why are you referring to Rick and Stacy as ‘Daddy and Mommy?”

After a pause, David told her, “I still used ‘Daddy and Mommy’ for them when I lost them. Dad was always ‘Dad.’ Back in the world I came from, they were my ‘birth-parents’ to tell them apart from Dad and the woman he’s married to, whom I called ‘Mom.’ That woman is not ‘Mom’ here, no matter how nice she might be, since neither Dad nor I know her. ‘Daddy and Mommy’ also sets them apart from Uncle Rick and Aunt Stacy here, who will remain Uncle Rick and Aunt Stacy. I’m sure the other David still loves Stacy Cook. I’m also sure that he will never trust her with him again, and that he might even have reservations trusting her with Aaron, Paul, and Christina.

“I’m also sure that David has already forgiven Uncle Rick completely for the circumstances that led up to his birth. However, asking to be adopted is more of a commitment than merely consenting to being adopted. Having the opportunity to live in a house where people always kept their word and honored their obligations must have seemed like Heaven-on-Earth to him. Likewise, I keep my word. Dad gave me his word that I was his son, and I in turn gave him my word that he was my Dad. Dvoraks don’t casually break their word, if at all. Smysl a síla, after all; lying and oath-breaking are weakness.

“Dad might not be the ‘John Dvorak’ I knew yesterday, though I think he’s probably just like him. He’s also the only one on offer today, just like I’m the only David. If Uncle Frank can help us get switched back, or even help us figure out how it happened in the first place, I’ll do my best to not do anything the other David can’t keep up with or won’t agree to, and I’ll trust that he does the same. For the musical instruments, he’ll learn what he can, and if we get ‘switched back,’ he’ll just make up either medical excuses or a ‘different creative inspiration’ until he catches up to me. If I were a betting kid, I’d bet that both of the songs he wrote here are identical to the first two I’ve written. The ones I ‘leave behind’ if and when we’re switched back are his, and anything he leaves behind will be mine.”

David took the last bite of his breakfast and chewed, being the last one of the six youth to finish their meal. As he chewed, he tilted his head just a bit to the side. After swallowing, he announced, “Twenty-seven, Uncle Rick. Got it?” After another moment’s silence he stated, “Uncle Frank, Howard Fry, Uncle William, Uncle Rick, Aunt Stacy, Aaron, Paul, and Christina are about to ring the doorbell.”

---DING-DONG—

Danny went and answered the door and admitted the four adults and three children David had just named. Proving that they had all been in the house at least once previously, they were removing their shoes at the door.

Howard Fry, Francisco Xavier “Frank” Floyd’s stable-master and chauffer, was a dark-skinned Black gentlemen in his late 60s who was clean-shaven and completely bald. He was about five foot and eight inches tall, and weighed a trim 160 pounds.

Frank himself was an older version of John with duller red hair, and a hairline that was just starting to recede. Where John was wearing a Medal of Honor rosette in the lapel of his expertly tailored Hart Schafner and Marx suit jacket, Frank was wearing a Silver Star rosette in his perfect Savile Row suit jacket. When he spoke, his voice resembled that of Alan Rickman, beyond having a noticeable but not objectionable southern drawl.

Frank was the head of House Floyd, a mostly magical family that lived entirely outside of the jurisdiction of the Magical Congress of the United States of America since the American Revolution. He was also the reputed head of the Floyd Crime Family a family involved in a number of illegal activities, but most famously for making illegal whiskey. Despite the government never being able to prove enough for even an indictment, not even for tax violations, he was believed by many to be one of the most dangerous men in the United States. They were not wrong.

William Clay Dvorak, PhD, was thirty-nine, but he looked to be in poor health, though his appearance didn’t quite belie just how ill he really was. He was still pale, gaunt, and looking prematurely aged. He stood five foot and ten inches tall, but had a slouch that was only partially caused by his cancer. His voice was masculine yet high for a man and somewhat raspy.

Rick Dvorak could pass as an identical twin to his younger brother, except that the younger brother had a lot of battle scars his clothing hid and was missing the lower half of his lower left leg. Rick was wearing a sport coat, expensive shirt and tie, and khaki trousers. His speaking voice resembled that of Ethan Peck.

Stacy Julia Rush Cook was just over thirty. She was five foot and five inches tall. She wore her 135 pounds gracefully despite having given birth to four children. Her hair and eyes were medium brown, and her complexion was pale but healthy. Her speaking voice was on the higher side of average with a slight Minnesota accent.

Aaron Russell and Paul Tarsus Kopchek were both of average height and weight for their ages, with brown hair and eyes that closely matched their mother. Both had light to moderate summer tans, since they played outside daily but hadn’t gone swimming routinely that summer. Aaron would turn nine on October 20th, where Paul had just turned five on the first. Their younger sister Christina Julia Kopchek was thirty-eight months old, and her coloring matched her closest siblings and mother. She was of normal size and weight for a thirty-eight month old girl, and smart for her age.

David had already stood up and started to approach the group. Aaron got ahead of the rest, and the two boys were almost instantly hugging each other, with David boosting Aaron slightly while the younger boy cried on the elder’s shoulder. It took a minute or two for Aaron to regain his composure, and for David to set him back on his feet.

Aaron asked David, “Will I ever get the David I had yesterday back?”

David assured his doppelganger’s third-birthday-present, who was now his third-birthday-present; “Uncle Frank is already starting to figure out how we can do it, if we can. But my double is comforting the Aaron I had yesterday, so how could I do any less for you here and now? You are my beloved third-birthday-present, and nothing will ever change that, not even what Kopchek and his filthy brood did to you, nor what I made you obey Kopchek in to try and protect you. Were it not for you here and now, I would be tracking that evil oxygen thief down, and I would Cruciate the whole lot of them ‘til their brains poured out of their assholes…”

David caught himself and reined his frayed temper back in. He also knew that Frank had drawn his wand. David moved clear of Aaron and drew his wand while willing himself invisible, casting magic into his eyes to better see Frank, and raised a shield spell wandlessly with his left hand, having only ever done the last of those tasks before.

Uncle and nephew remained facing each other at wand-point, with no one but them being able to see either of them. They faced each other for a full fifteen seconds that seemed like an eternity to everyone else in the room before Frank fully appeared with normal silver eyes and holstered his wand.

He told his nephew, “Stand down, David. I recognize that you are you, that you are no threat, and that you haven’t actually used that vile curse on anyone. I come in peace. And, don’t immerse yourself in the Dark Arts, no matter what, and especially not the Unforgivables. Using the Unforgivable Three corrodes your very soul, and will drive you to madness. Even with what I do, I’ve only cast the Cruciatus Curse once and the Imperius Curse three times. I regret all four times, despite being in a business where the blood flows like wine for all of my life.”

David became visible again with his shield lowered. He stood straight from his medium crouch and holstered his wand. David pronounced, “Smysl a síla, Uncle.”

Frank replied, “Synnwyr a chryfder, Nephew.”

After a moment’s silence, he enquired, “Where did you learn to use magic and to fight? You would only be old enough for Ilvermorny this year. And how the hell did you get an Olivanders Wand that no sane wandmaker would present to a kid?”

David calmly informed his uncle, “My world had me living in interesting times. I was supposed to enter Hogwarts this year, since in my world Dad works for both the MaCUSA and US Embassy in London. Education-wise, I’m a solid third year in the core subjects except for Potions, where I’m mid to late second year. I’ve started studying Arithmancy and Runes, and I’ve read some Alchemy, beyond being tested and confirming that I can actually do Alchemy if I learn it. I’ve also concentrated heavily in combat spells and applications. I can cast every third-year charm, hex, curse, and transfiguration silently, plus other combat spells such as piercing and blasting hexes, and both the normal and communications versions of the Patronus Charm.”

“How did you get Albus Fucking Dumbledore to teach you that? Everyone knows that only the few people he taught that version of the Patronus can cast it” Frank asked in astonishment.

“I’ve met Headmaster Dumbledore. I’ve even found and examined the Hogwarts Royal Charter. But it was Remus Lupin who taught me the Adfero, though Dumbledore himself did teach Lupin. It’s still not an easy spell, and what ordinary Wizard or Witch even bothers with learning the Patronus, or even needs to?”

“Can you demonstrate it for me?” Uncle Frank asked.
In response, David drew his wand again, and the wand emitted a brief silver flash. A slivery translucent dragon appeared, being roughly the size of a German Shepherd. The dragon flew to Uncle Frank and announced in David’s voice, “Recte demonstrare possum, patrue Franke. Estne haec satisfactio?”
Frank replied, “Benevolens, David, vel egregie.”
After David holstered his wand again, Frank asked, “Do you know your magical index?”
David answered, “I tested a 3.8, but that was before I started using and training my magic. We should probably test everyone in the house, including the Stocks. I’m pretty sure that none of the Cashes are magical, but they will of necessity know about it and be bound to the International Statute. And, they just might surprise me.”
Frank asked, “Do you know how to perform the test?”
“Only the ‘yes-no’ version, Uncle Frank.”
“Fair enough” Frank answered before drawing his wand. He tested David, who was a 4.1. He tested William, who by now was sitting on the end of the living room sofa closest to the door. William was no-Maj. He tested Rick next; he was a 3.5. He tested Stacy Cook next. Surprisingly, she was a 2.7. Christina was a 3.3, Paul and Aaron both tested to a 3.3 as well. John was just as potentially powerful as his next older brother, while Betty was no-Maj. Walking into the dining area, Frank tested Delilah and Debbie, who were both no-Maj. Michael tested to a 3.7, and Danny tested to a 3.4.
Frank asked, “Any surprises, David?”
“The Rick and Stacy Dvorak from my world died before the rest of us actually found out about magic, and Stacy was only two months pregnant with Christina. It was their deaths that inspired Dad to quit selling Cadillacs and get the translator job at the Embassy in London. He traded on the CBOT, but he wasn’t constantly making trades even though he made hundreds of millions after taxes and expenses on the trades he made. Once we moved to the UK he was able to do quite well on the London Stock Exchange too.”
--DING-DONG—
David was closest to the door, so he looked through the peephole. He opened the door and told Bill and Chris Cash, “Good morning, guys. We were actually going to need to call you to come over, so come in.”
The two fourteen-year-old boys entered the house, while David closed and locked the door behind them. Chris Cash, was the younger of the two boys. His fourteenth birthday would be the next day. He was five foot and five inches tall, and weighed 116 pounds. His hair was dirty-blond and his eyes were pale blue. His slightly older brother, who had turned fourteen the previous April, was the same weight but two inches taller. Bill’s eyes, like Chris’s, were a pale blue, but his hair was a wavy black. Bill resembled a fourteen-year-old Johnny Cash, because his family was actually related to the famous musician.
David told the two, “Listen up, speak only when spoken to for right now, and accept that absolutely everything you see and hear is real, and that you’ll really go to jail if you start rabbiting on ‘bout it. Uncle Frank, go ahead.”
Frank quickly tested Bill and Chris. Bill was a no-Maj, but Chris tested at a 2.2.
David told them, “Congratulations, Chris, you can do real Magic once you get a wand and go to school. And Bill, you don’t have magic, but you know the rest of us have got your back, and you can keep knowing about magic.
“Super short version, some jerk switched me around with the David Dvorak you guys knew yesterday, so I’m here, and we’re hoping that the David Dvorak you knew is in my place. The ‘world’ I came from is similar but not identical to the one you guys grew up in. Uncle Frank is here to help us figure out what happened, who did it, and hopefully how to un-do it. If we can’t undo it, then I’ll be glad to know you guys, and ‘your’ David will be happy in my world—but I’m sure both of us want to get back to the worlds where we came from.”
Frank announced, “John, before you bring the rest of the kids in from the garage or wherever you told them to go, there’s one more thing I need to test. Listen closely, and try to feel your magic with your ears if you can. “§§If you understand me, say your middle name, or your first middle name if you have more than one. If you can, try to answer sounding like me.§§” Most of the people in the room thought that Frank was just hissing, including Chris, Stacy, Paul, and Christina. Danny replied, “§§Andrew.§§” Michael answered, “§§Aaron.§§” Aaron answered, “§§Russell.§§” John answered, “§§Abner.§§” David answered, “§§John.§§” Rick wrapped things up by replying, “§§Christopher. So I guess I’m a Parselmouth?§§”
Frank explained, “If you just heard hissing like someone imitating a snake or an actual snake, that’s what you’re supposed to hear—unless you can speak the language of snakes, which is called Parseltongue. A Speaker is also called a Parselmouth. House Floyd went through great efforts to have multiple Parselmouths marry into the family so we could gain this language, which cannot be taught as a rule. Stacy, I’m guessing that when you gave Aaron to David for his ‘third birthday present,’ that between your magic and David’s that Aaron is now magically David’s son, and thus inherited all manner of Floyd Magics, including Parseltongue. They say that Albus Dumbledore, who is one of the most powerful and talented Wizards alive today can understand Parseltongue, but not speak it. Pixie can also speak it.
“Outside of House Floyd or India, Parseltongue is almost insanely rare, especially in Europe. Parseltongue is also associated with Dark Magic in Europe because the most famous family that had Parseltongues was the Gaunt Family. They descended from one of the four founders of Hogwarts, the first Magic School established outside of Asia after the fall of the Greek and Roman Magical schools to attacks by the Mongols, Huns, and Arabs. Beyond their descent from Salazar Slytherin, whose descendents frequently used and fell to Dark Magic, the Gaunts also descended from the only magical son of John of Gaunt, and are thus distant members of the UK Royal Family. They were also inbred as hell, frequently Dark Magic users, and were also often nuttier than a squirrel’s larder. Some of House Floyd’s ‘eccentricities’ can actually be traced to our having multiple Gaunt women and a few Gaunt men marry into the family—and we made every effort to only seek the ones who weren’t flat out nuts.
“A person can have some magic, but not enough to actively use. Such a person is called a ‘Squib.’ Not all Floyds have magic, though a fair majority of us do. Between Squibs and Magic users, not all of those are Parselmouths. But most Floyds who are magical or Squibs are also Parselmouths.
“We use Parseltongue to ask the snakes of the woods to leave us be while we leave them be, and also ask them to guard our stills for us. That’s just one of the many reasons we’ve had fewer troubles from the Revenue Man than most.”
A knock was heard from the door separating the breezeway to the garage from the dining area. Pixie opened the door and came in. Seeing Frank, and seeing David free and unharmed, she asked, “John, may I bring the rest of us in from the garage? I’ve already talked to them, and they won’t ‘overwhelm’ David.”
David suggested, “§§Tell them that unlike the other David, I won’t have gay sex with any of them, but I won’t be judgmental or an asshole to them with their other gay sex, please? Especially Max since he’ll be worried that I’m angry or scared of him ‘cause of his fight last May? And Chris is a pretty strong wizard, where Bill’s a no-Maj.§§
“Got it” Pixie answered in English. A minute later, and the other six youth who had overnighted in the house returned from the garage.
David announced, “Beyond what I had Pixie pass on, we’re all good, if you’re good with me instead of the David you had yesterday. I didn’t do this, and I’m sure he didn’t, either. The rest of us are barely figuring stuff out. I’m going to say something. If you hear me say anything back other than hissing, then answer back with the word I say. If you only hear hissing, don’t worry about it. And A.D. I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know your Sally, mom, and dad, but I knew their versions in my world, who were still alive yesterday. For whatever faults yours had, they were good people and the world is worse off for their loss. And Max? We are cool. I’m sure that the David you knew yesterday told you exactly where the two of you stood, and from what I understand; you were most of the way good as it was. Depending on how long it takes Uncle Frank and the rest of us to figure things out, he and you will get the rest of the way there. ”§§Sasquatch.§§”
Both fourteen-year-old Joseph Howard “Joe” Stock Junior and twelve-year-old Maxwell Taylor “Max” Stock heard only hissing. They were both brown-haired and brown-eyed with medium tans, and just smaller than average height and weight for their ages.
Andy Dvorak, the fourteen-year-old tall red-haired freckled silver-eyed former son of Frank Floyd replied, §§Sasquatch. And good on ya for the Parseltongue.§§
A.D. Dvorak, who was a slightly smaller and younger version of his cousin Danny down to the silver eyes answered, “Not a word, but not hissing either, it was kind of a crazy mix I couldn’t figure out. This that ‘snake talk’ stuff Pixie told us about?”
Tim Cash was a five-foot tall 95-pound almost twelve-year-old version of his older brother Bill. He asked, “Does this mean that if Princess sics snakes on me that you can talk them into just leaving?” Everyone laughed at that.
David told them, “We’ll also need Uncle Frank to test you for magic, to see if you’ve got it and how much if you do.”
Andy retorted, “Frank tested me at a 3.0 but Ilvermorny can still suck a dog’s ass. They were worse than grade school and Frank put together when they came by three years ago.”
Frank ignored his former son and tested the rest. Tim Cash was a no-Maj. A.D. was a 2.8. Joe Stock tested a 2.5, and Max tested a 2.7.
Frank remarked, “Joe, Max? Since Fiona is insane, I’d guess that she’s also what’s called a Hedge Obscurial. Having magic is very rare. Among Wizards and Witches, being a Hedge Obscurial is about the rarest magical malady there is. An Obscurial is a person who is emotionally injured and also fears and tries to suppress their magic. A Hedge Obscurial is similar, except major mental illness is also involved.
“The magical signature of a Hedge Obscurial can ‘hide’ the magical signatures of ‘normal’ Wizarding children. So, my guess here is that the MaCUSA agents who are supposed to scan for new-Maj Wizards and Witches found a Hedge Obscurial in a relatively small town with six Floyds also living there, and just quit looking. They probably falsified their paperwork too, since MaCUSA is supposed to institutionalize Hedge Obscurials for life at government expense. Since your father had her institutionalized, she’ll be moved to a MaCUSA Facility fairly quick.
A.D. asked, “Some nut-job came ‘round the house two years ago gassing on about Magic, Sally and I weren’t allowed to listen in. Did my old Dad call you?”
Frank replied, “I’ve never hated your late father, or William either for that matter; we just really didn’t get along because they resented their mother bearing my father two sons in exchange for two sizeable chunks of money during the Second World War. Gas furnaces, refrigerators, and stoves weren’t any cheaper compared to a workingman’s wages in the mid ‘40s than they are today.
“Father gave your Grandmother Dvorak all that, and paid her mortgage off completely, and paid her property taxes in full after that, and had groceries paid for and delivered until Abner Senior came back from the war, while the war rationing was going on. Father did not violate rationing. The stove and refrigerator he gave your Grandmother Dvorak during the war were almost new extra ones we had. He also replaced those for your father now back in ’58.
“Anyway, we really didn’t get along, but we are family, and that’s important. Your late father actually called me and asked for help three times. The MaCUSA Wizards were the third time. The first time was when your Grandmother Dvorak sold your late father the ’65 Corvair four door she thought was hers and had her name on the title for it in ’67.”
Rick interrupted, “I didn’t buy it so she could give it to the Fl… to Junior. But it was her car, and I never said otherwise. You did pay me retail for it, I did thank you at the time, and I knew better with the ’67. What became of it, anyway?”
“I found out when Junior traded it in on a Saab in ’76. I bought it and had it redone. Do you want it back?”
“Sure, Frank. How much?”
Frank named a number. Rick wrote a check and handed it to him. Rick asked Frank, “Can you have Howard drop it off at my place, please? I’ll probably just drive it to Morris and ‘pickle’ it along with the ’61 and the ’63, but who knows? I had a modern Cadillac master cylinder put on it in ’66, and Stacy might like it better than her Fleetwood.
Betty asked waspishly, “Do any of you actually sell cars when you don’t need them any more?”
John told her, “I’ve only ever bought two cars and one motorcycle in my entire life. I sold the bike and the older car, but the titles must have bounced or something… And I noticed you’re still keeping your Chevette in your garage even while renting the place to Rick.”
Rick laughed, “No need to squabble. I’m sure she’s saving it for Saria, or something.”
“Something is right, though Saria will end up with it. They wouldn’t give me what I think the car was worth for a trade-in, and I won’t have time to sell it myself. It’s a ’77 four door hatchback with only 22,000 miles, a/c, four-speed, cruise control, and a factory cassette player. It’ll do highway speeds eventually, and she won’t need a fast car at sixteen.”
Frank admitted, “I’m not much better. I’ve still got my ’46 Continental, my ’54 Cosmopolitan, my ’57 Mark II, my ’61 Continental, my ’70 Lehmann-Petersen Mark III four door, plus all of my International Pickups since they quit making them seven years ago.”
Aaron surprisingly opined, “If you’re getting Mom a car without asking her what she wants, then why not a Maverick that isn’t rusted to hell and gone? She liked Kopchek’s ’71 a lot more that his Vega he usually made her drive. Or, quit bein’ cheap and get her a Grenada Wagon like the Captain got Ms. Sandy? It would be big enough inside while still bein’ easier for Mom to drive.”
Before Stacy Cook could get completely wound up at her son inviting her boyfriend to buy her a new car, David added, “Aunt Stacy, we all know that the other David would have said that if he was here instead of me. And good on ya, Aaron. Miss Cook’s Chevette is probably a really nice car, but no way could Aunt Stacy deal with a car that small with four kids under the age of ten.
“And if you’re going to just get her a car instead of Uncle Rick taking her on a date to pick out one she wants, Dad doesn’t sell Fords. But he does sell Buicks and Oldsmobiles, and a Century or Ciera Wagon with a V6 would get the job done nicely. That might be a good ‘date idea’ for Uncle Rick anyway.”
Getting things back on track, Frank inserted, “Back to me helping Junior. The third time was with the Wizards, and the first time was with the Corvair. The second time I probably saved Junior’s life. Junior and William had borrowed a lot of money from your Grandmother Dvorak, by having her take out a mortgage on the house in Coal City. Your Grandmother, your late father and Uncle William, and your Uncle Rick and I all thought that John Dvorak had died in Vietnam and the house was your Grandmother Dvorak’s alone again. Junior and William were also making the mortgage payments to pay the mortgage back, along with paying your Grandmother’s property taxes. So, she wasn’t in any danger of losing her house and being put out on the street.
“Your Uncle Carlos, however, had played around with the death notifications, along with John’s letters stating that he was still alive, which is why your Uncle Rick and I believed him dead. Your late father and Uncle William did not do anything of the like, even if your Dad thinks they did. However, when your Grandmother’s attorney had tracked John down in a one-bedroom apartment in Bridgeport with two toddlers and no job, and convinced him that your Grandmother hadn’t disowned him for getting hurt the first time, and was dying, he made it to Coal City with both kids before the lawyer could make it back. Even though they barely talked to each other at the time, both John and Rick were convinced your late father and your Uncle William had done to your Grandmother exactly what your Uncle Carlos had done to Rick and me.
“Your Uncle Rick paid off all the debts and paid for the funeral, so John had his house back free-and-clear, even if it was somewhat run down. Rick paid all of that off before John could do anything else, so John wouldn’t notice when Rick gave your late father and Uncle William an ‘old school send-off’ just like he did when he was thirteen, and your Grandfather Hernando’s most feared enforcer. I had to sit on Rick for over a year.
“And this was in ‘late ’71 and early ’72, when Rick was completely sober while pretending to still be drunk and stoned all the time, and he was meaner than a cottonmouth with a backache. He was bound and determined to break every bone in both of their bodies, stuff them in one of their Swedish buzz-saws, sling-load it under one of his helicopters, and drop it from 10,000 feet into Memorial Stadium. We were making easy money selling weed in Champaign all day because we weren’t causing any trouble. But if we dumped two of their professors into the middle of their football stadium, that would have changed, and we’d never get it changed back.
“But we need to get back to why you called me out here in the first place. Our family magic teachers taught me while I was growing up. Carlos was a squib as well as a fuck-up. Joaquin barely started his lessons before he got polio and died. Dad wouldn’t even tell Rick about magic when he was the normal age to learn it, ‘cause his temper was so nasty, and if he’d learned the Unforgivable Three, he’d have retired from baseball. After he got back from the Army in ’63, I had to tell him. He might have learned about magic, but he never bothered to get a wand. Wilma was the first Floyd ever to take her OWLs and NEWTs, which are sort of like grade school and high school graduation exam for Wizards and Witches. She got all Os, which are the highest grades the way the Wizards write them. She took her OWLs right after I signed the Treaty for House Floyd in ’65, and she took her NEWTs in ’66.
“I know a fair bit about magic, and for what I don’t know myself, I know the people who do know, even Albus Dumbledore. What you’ve run into sounds like you’d picked up a Traveler’s Stone, which has also been called a Philosopher’s Moonstone. But those are pretty much just legends, not real life. Trying to create a real spell that would swap two people between two different dimensions probably isn’t Arithmantically impossible, but finding the variables, even if you found the base formula, isn’t something just any wizard could do. It’ll take me a day or two to fly out to the UK, meet with Dumbledore, and find out what he knows.
"And running to the UK actually isn’t a bother for me. I’m even looking into buying a house and car to keep near to London. On the magical side, our distilling is perfectly legal. While not many Brits or Europeans care for White Dog, they have been going nuts for our Easy Seven and Family Reserve. They’re so crazy for it that I boosted our distilling capacity twenty-fold starting back in ’65. It’s all the Family Reserve White Dog recipe now, and it all gets aged. I’m still making White Dog moonshine for sale here on the no-Maj side, but the aged whiskey is making me the serious money.
“And Rick, that’s why I was making so little money on the whiskey between ’65 and ’74. I was actually bleeding myself white with all the whiskey I cooked with your change-up on the Family Reserve recipe and putting it all up in the ricks, plus all the new and expanded ricks I had to set up to age it all. That’s also why I wasn’t making as much money on the weed as you thought I should be; I was moving the ‘extra’ profits on the weed, which was actually bringing in more than you thought it should, and filling in the gaping hole made by the whiskey. My personal side-hustle on moonshining rum, which was much bigger than even you thought, made up the rest until I started selling the Brit Wizards Easy Seven in ’74, when I could start putting money back into it. And while I’m not John, I was able to do well enough in the futures markets to make up enough of the rest to keep Rosie in the weeds. And you know the last thing that bitch wanted to make was good booze.“
After he finally quit laughing, Rick rejoined, “So that’s what you were doing with all the money! Not that I gave a care, since you were sticking it to the Queen. I padded the books just a little bit more in your favor with some of the ‘excess’ profits I was bringing in from the gambling and my weed sales, since the Queen couldn’t tell a pair of dice from birds of paradise, and Harley flunked every math class he took after grade school. I didn’t want to give her any more of an excuse to get out of the whiskey business.”
After the two men laughed a little more, Frank asked, “John, do Betty and you have your passports up-to-date? And you’ll need to get David a MaCUSA passport along with passports for any of the others you’ll need to bring along with you if Dumbledore needs to look at David in-person. While Dumbledore could certainly come out here, he would only do that if he had to see the house here. Since he’s also the Wizarding equivalent of the Speaker of the UK Parliament and UN Secretary-General, it’s much easier to meet with him at Hogwarts. He lives there full time, and if he isn’t actually running a meeting of their Parliament or UN General Assembly, you’ll find him most easily there, even in the summer.”
David added, “That’s how the Headmaster worked in my world too. By the way Uncle Frank, did they just finish up with a terrorist war on the magical side over there?”
Frank sobered up completely and replied, “Yeah. Some murderous terrorist malcontent who called himself ‘Lord Voldemort’ of all things, and even put up a half-assed Taboo Spell on his name was the lead troublemaker. The guy claimed to be a Parselmouth and a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but I doubt he was. The last of the Gaunts died off in the early ‘50s, but he got a life sentence to Azkaban Prison in ’43 for killing some wealthy no-Maj neighbors.
“Anyway, this ‘Voldemort’ fellow topped himself almost a year ago. He’d gone after a charms prodigy who placed a combination shield charm and booby-trap curse on her toddler son. Voldemort kills the husband, then the woman, and when he attempts to kill the toddler, the booby-trap vaporized him. The only things they found of him was scraps of his robes, his wand, and a light pink film on what walls and ceiling portions that weren’t blasted clean out of the woman’s house. The kid got a cut on his forehead, and was orphaned, but otherwise completely unharmed.
“Of course, most ordinary UK Wizards are pinheads, so they concluded that it was the fifteen month old kid and not the fully-grown new-Maj Witch and Charms Prodigy who solved their terrorist problem for them, so Dumbledore had to put the kid into hiding.”
David exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”
After waiting a moment in everyone’s stunned total silence, David explained, “It might have been Dumbledore who swapped me around. Dad, your double married Harry Potter’s Maternal Aunt. She got custody of Harry, and that Dumbledore put blood wards on the house to protect him. Harry Potter was the ‘curse anchor kid’ in my world, and I’m guessing that’s all the same here, too.
“In my world, Dumbledore was dead-certain that Voldemort was certainly not dead, and this Dumbledore might be thinking the same thing. But I don’t see how he would think that I could help. I’m a magically powerful kid from a magically powerful family who doesn’t have any blood relationship to Harry Potter here, and who doesn’t even live in the UK. Petunia Evans might not even be married. But whether she’s married or not, what can I do?”
Frank suggested, “You can start by not over-reacting. This might be Dumbledore here who made the switch. Or it could be a Voldemort supporter from your world who made the switch. Or, it could be something that has nothing to do with Harry Potter or Voldemort at all.
“In the mean time, get things situated with the rest of your family here, while I talk to Dumbledore and find out what’s going on. Are you musical, David?”
Saria answered for him, “He’s very musical, Uncle Frank. Why?”
Frank replied, “Since he’s here, he can fill in for the ‘other him’ with Michael’s band. Perhaps he can even write another song or two, and you can get that CBS executive to get the contract done and record an album.”
David suggested, “If we make it ‘big’ here, Uncle Frank, Dad and Uncle Rick will need you to help them protect our concert merchandise sales from outside chiselers, counterfeiters and such. You don’t get the big share of the concert gate until you have a reputation for filling the big venues. On your first album or few you barely get enough money to quench your thirst, and if you’re insanely lucky you are able to keep or quickly reclaim control of your own catalog. And even a big payday shrinks quickly with a band as big as ours.
“The merchandise is the only thing you can count on, and even that requires you to make it big in the first place. We got twenty percent of our first album, and we were damned lucky. It’s also gone platinum, and all of our original material has gone up the charts and stayed there. We filled Wembly and the Barbican, plus we got the BBC to broadcast the Barbican show. Our label was crying all the way to the bank, and it was our t-shirts and stuff we sold out of the parking lot that really paid off.
“If Dad, Uncle Rick, and you can get us paid for it, we’ll get you the hits. And we need to know what Dumbledore’s up to whether he had anything to do with the other David and me getting swapped around or not. If this stuff is as tricky as you’ve said, we’ll probably need his help to undo it anyway.”
Frank offered, “That should work for now, if John and Rick agree?”
John replied, “It will be a start. I’ll need to tell the Captain, his wife, and Holly DeVos since Chris is definitely magical, and both Joseph Senior and Teri Stock as well. This is especially true if there is any chance of our needing to send any of our kids to Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny. Where are those schools, anyway?”
Frank supplied, “Ilvermorny is located in Massachusetts, and Hogwarts is in Scotland. Both are normally boarding schools. House Floyd can train its own members, but retainers are a grey area. I don’t know about ‘hedge academies’ in the United States, but they do have a few in the UK, and some of them are at least as good as Hogwarts while also being day schools so the students go home each night and on the weekends. I’ll make sure I get all the way up-to-date on that stuff as well, especially if David, or if all of us need to help the Potter boy for whatever reason.
“I’ll get things going. I’ll call you next Monday or Tuesday at the latest to let you know what I find out. You can get MaCUSA Passports at the Monadnock Building in Chicago. David will have to advise them that he is in possession of a Wand under House Floyd, and that he is also in possession of a Sakura wand under House Floyd. MaCUSA regulates sakura and fruit cherry wands tighter than most other countries, and for damned good reason. The wand holster he’s using is regulated in the UK, but not in MaCUSA, so that should be fine.
“You should also have my lawyer’s business card. He’s not only a US no-Maj lawyer, he’s a MaCUSA lawyer, too. When you call him, tell him it’s about ‘green passport services.’ MaCUSA passports are green, where US Passports are normally blue. He should be able to answer any legal questions you have.
“For Betty or anyone else you might need to take to the UK that doesn’t have any magic, they need to get their US Passports, and get those stamped by MaCUSA. ‘Officially,’ MaCUSA does issue passports directly to no-Maj citizens with a legitimate continuing need-to-know about the Wizarding World and who are bound by the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. In reality, the MaCUSA no-Maj passports routinely malfunction, so you always get a US passport and get it stamped. Once you get it, you keep it with you at all times, to make sure some ‘flat-foot’ doesn’t Obliviate you while you’re out shopping, and some ill-behaved six year old witch has an accidental magic spell while throwing a temper-tantrum. While a MaCUSA Wizards' Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test Certificate, or MaC-W.O.M.B.A.T. Card is better than a passport at home, that also requires a test, and the test takes someone newly exposed to the Wizarding World a month or so of serious study to learn enough to pass it.”
Frank and William stood, and they shook hands and such around the room before John showed them out. They left behind a house of four adults and sixteen youth and children to try to finish putting the pieces back together after an unexpected and unrequested boy-swap.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Reflections.