ACT III — CHAPTER II
Tʜɪɴɢs Lᴇꜰᴛ Uɴsᴘᴏᴋᴇɴ

⊱ ────── 𖥔 ✶ 𖥔 ────── ⊰

Everyday for the rest of the summer, Quinn would walk with Mary to the Leaky Cauldron and spend her days wandering around Diagon Alley with Harry and occasionally Phoebe, if the cat was feeling up to it.

They would eat breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where they liked to people watch: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava.

After breakfast Quinn and Harry would go out into the backyard, one of them would take out their wand and tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

They would explore shops and eat under brightly colored umbrellas outside cafés, where their fellow diners weres showing one another their purchases ( "It's a lunascope, old boy — no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban.").

They would sit outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and work on their summer essays, with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself. He knew a great deal about medieval witch burnings, and also gave Quinn and Harry free sundaes every half an hour.

Quinn quite enjoyed her time spent with Harry. Mostly because she knew he was safe. With a famed Death Eater on the loose, she was very glad to be at his side every second of the day compared to going over a week without hearing from him because of his aunt and uncle.

She was very surprised to find out just how rich Harry was. Of course, she knew the Potters were an old pureblood family, but when she went with him to Gringotts to collect money from his vault, her jaw dropped at the sheer amount of coins inside.

Despite his massive amounts of wealth, Harry was good at restraining himself from buying unnecessary things, like a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones and a moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball. However, Quinn could tell he really wanted them by the way his eyes lingered on the items as they walked through the shops.

About a week after Quinn started to come to see Harry, they decided to stop by Quality Quidditch Supplies. While Quinn didn't care much for Quidditch, she felt it was only right to go with him after she had dragged Harry to Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary, considering Potions was his least favorite subject.

When they arrived, there was a large crowd in front of the shop, making it near impossible to get into. Quinn and Harry somehow managed to edge their way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until they glimpsed a newly constructed podium, on which was mounted a broom.

"Just come out — prototype —" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" a young boy squeaked as he swung off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's Just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd, "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Quinn and Harry moved, and they were able to read the sign next to the broom:

T H E F I R E B O L T
This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a stream-lined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint percision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request.

"150 miles an hour in ten seconds," Quinn muttered as she looked up at Harry, "Kevin's going to lose it when he sees this."

Kevin Entwhistle, one of Quinn's closest friends, was the biggest Quidditch enthusiast she knew. It was all he ever talked about, and Quinn did her best to entertain him, knowing that Justin and Morag, the other half of the Train Gang, didn't care for the sport at all.

"He probably will," Harry agreed, "but there's no way he could ever afford it. Price on request means that it's bound to be a ridiculously high one."

"Do you think you could you afford it?" she asked, genuinely curious as images of his mountains of coins in his vault.

Harry shrugged, "Maybe, but I haven't lost a match yet on my Nimbus Two Thousand. Better not to risk it."

However, they returned almost every day after that, just so Harry could look at the Firebolt. Quinn teasingly smiled at him every time they did.

During their long sunny days, Quinn and Harry gathered the rest of their school supplies. They went back to the Apothecary to replenish their store of potions ingredients, and they visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, as they had both grown a bit over the summer. Most important of all, they bought their school books for their two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

After searching Flourish and Blotts for almost ten minutes, they went to the store manager so he could help them find The Monster Book of Monsters, which seemed to be nowhere.

"Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry answered.

The store manager sighed, "Alright, come with me."

Quinn and Harry followed him to a room in the back of the store, that the manager had to unlock with a key he kept at his side. As he opened the door, it became very apparent to Quinn as to why these books were kept in a backroom.

There was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively. Quinn was suddenly very glad that she had left Phoebe at home.

"Stay back," the manager warned. He put on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

Quinn and Harry watched with their jaws practically on the floor as the manager retrieved two of the monstrous books from the cage, hitting the others back with his stick and occasionally crying out, "Stop it! Stay back!"

When he handed them the books, he told them, "Keep it locked. When you need to open it, just stroke the spine, and it should be fine."

"Thank you," Quinn said warily, eyeing the man's torn apart sleeves and the teeth marks that now covered his arms. She held the book carefully, with her arms almost fully extended, but the book seemed to sleeping now.

"I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them ..." the manager went on, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, "Well ... is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," Harry said, looking down his booklist, "We need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" the manager asked, taking off his gloves and leading them out of the room, locking the door behind him.

He took them slightly closer to the front of the store where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

"Here you are," the manager said, climbing back down a set of steps with two thick, black-bound books, "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods — palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails —"

"Thank you," Quinn said again, taking one of the books from him. When she noticed that Harry had not taken his book, she glanced over at him. He was looking down at another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," the manager told him lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at, "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death."

But Harry just kept staring at the book. Quinn bit her lip as her eyes flitted between him and the manager, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, the manager just shoved Unfogging the Future into Harry's hands, "Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you," Quinn told him, a tight smile on her face.

When they left the store a few minutes later, their books held under their arms, Quinn stopped Harry, guiding him into a small alley so they were out of the way of the crowd.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, "The way you spaced out in there was really weird."

"No, it's just — the night I left the Dursley's, before I got on the Knight Bus, I saw this — this black dog. It was huge, Quinn, the size of a bear, and it had these gleaming eyes," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "The same dog was on the cover of that Death Omens book."

Quinn nodded, processing his words, "So you think you saw a death omen?"

"Yes — no, it can't have been one," he said, immediately shutting himself down, "I was panicking when I saw it. It was probably just a regular black dog. It probably doesn't mean anything."

But the worried look on his face said otherwise. Quinn looked up at him, unsure of what to do to help him.

"My mum says that fortune telling should be taken with a grain of salt," she settled on, thinking back to when she had asked for help picking courses in the spring, "Divination is pretty much all fortune telling, so you're probably right. It probably isn't serious."

Harry nodded, running his free hand through his hair. Quinn sighed, and then they continued to make their way through Diagon Alley, back to the Leaky Cauldron where they would wait for Mary.

⊰ ⋅ ⊱

As the days slipped by, Quinn began to wonder when they would run into Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. She and Harry met Kevin and his little sister, Polly, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he had dragged her to ogle the Firebolt.

The pair also ran into the Neville Longbottom outside Flourishand Blotts. They didn't stop to chat for long; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother.

On the last day of the holidays, Quinn met Harry at the Leaky Cauldron just before nine in the morning. They came to the conclusion that both Ron and Hermione were still on their holiday, with Ron being in Egypt and Hermione camping, and they would have to meet up with them the next day on the train.

They spent the morning wandering, of course with Harry dragging Quinn to look at the Firebolt again. By midday, they were deciding where they wanted to go for lunch, when someone yelling their names caused them to turn.

"Harry! Quinn!"

They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor — Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very tan, both waving frantically at him.

"Finally!" Ron said, grinning at Quinn and Harry as they sat down, "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left with Quinn, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and —"

"We got all our school stuff last week," Harry explained, "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad," Ron said simply, "How'd you know, Quinn?"

"My mum," Quinn told him, "Do you also know about his aunt?"

"You mean you really blew her up?" Hermione asked in a very serious voice.

"I didn't mean to," Harry said, while Ron roared with laughter, "I just — lost control."

"It's not funny, Ron," Hermione said sharply.

"It's a bit funny," Quinn confessed, smiling widely, "You should have seen the look on Mary's face when she told my mum. She thought Harry had killed her!"

"He could have!" Hermione argued, "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," Harry admitted, "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested —" He looked at Ron, "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" Ron shrugged, still chuckling, "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

Quinn didn't say anything. She was surprised Ron didn't know it was because of Sirius Black, like Emmeline had said. However, if Ron hadn't been told, it was probably for a reason.

"Do you think you could convince your mothers to let you stay here tonight, too, Quinn?" Ron went on, looking at her expectantly.

She immediately shook her head, "No way. Mary's been really freaked out since Sirius Black escaped. But I might be able to convince them to let me stay for dinner."

"I hope they do!" Hermione said, beaming as she grabbed onto one of Quinn's hands, "Mum and Dad just dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"So, have you got all your new books and stuff?" Harry asked.

"Look at this," Ron said, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it, "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books —" He pointed at a large bag under his chair, "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"When we told the manager we needed two, it looked as if we told him his dog had died," Quinn said, her eyes widening when she looked at the chair next to Hermione, "'Mione, why do you have a mountain over there?"

There was not one, but three bulging bags in the chair next to her. Hermione looked down at them, "Oh, these? Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I? Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" Ron questioned, rolling his eyes at Quinn and Harry, "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," Hermione said earnestly.

"Quinn lives like a Muggle, and you don't see her taking the class," Ron argued.

"My mum said it would be a waste of my time," Quinn said, pursing her lips, "Sorry, Hermione."

"I would be more worried about her having time to eat or sleep rather than wasting her time," Harry remarked while Ron chuckled. Hermione ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse, "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book?" Ron suggested innocently.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione said composedly, "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol —"

"I haven't," Ron said, "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers —" He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket, "And I want to get him checked over —" he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them, "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking quite thin, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"The Magical Menagerie is right over there. That's where I got Phoebe," Quinn said.

"You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl," Harry added.

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

Quinn hadn't remembered the place being so crowded. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Quinn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise.

Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch, "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," the witch said, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better look.

Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," the witch began, picking up Scabbers, "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," Ron said, "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" the witch asked, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er —"

Quinn had never head of rats having powers, but if they really did, Scabbers would be the least likely rat to have one. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she stated.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," Ron explained defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," the witch said, "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron only muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," the witch told him, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," Ron sighed, "How much — OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" the witch cried, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Quinn and Harry quickly followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?"

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," Harry said.

"Where's Hermione?"

"I think she's still getting an owl," Quinn said, looking over at the store they had left.

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" Ron asked, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Hermione said, glowing.

Quinn loved cats, truly, but gorgeous was not the first word that came to mind when she looked at that cat. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" Ron protested.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" Hermione cooed.

"And what about Scabbers?" Ron shouted, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," Hermione said, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand, "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"I wonder why," Ron muttered sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry, Quinn!" he greeted, smiling as he looked up, "How are you both?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry replied.

"I'm doing well, Mr. Weasley," Quinn said, "And how are you?"

"I'm doing just fine, thank you," he told her, as she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with all their shopping.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Quinn caught sight of Sirius Black's infamous mugshot staring up at her.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," Mr. Weasley said, looking extremely grave, "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far. I'm sure your mother is having a tough go of it, Quinn."

"Most definitely. She comes home super late every night, and then is gone before I wake up," Quinn told him.

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" Ron asked, "It'd be good to get some more money —"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Mr. Weasley chided, who on closer inspection looked very strained, "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

Quinn tried not to shudder just at the mention of dementors. She had never seen one, thank Merlin, but from what Emmeline had told her, they were terrifying.

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life during their previous year at Hogwarts. She went very red and muttered "hello" as she walked past him to meet with Quinn, hugging her hello.

Quinn watched as Percy held out his hand solemnly to Harry as though they had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," Harry said, obviously trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" Percy asked pompously, shaking hands.

"He's been like this all summer," Ginny muttered to Quinn through giggles, "Well, at least since he found out he was going to be Head Boy."

"Harry!" Fred said, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply, "Simply splendid to see you, old boy —"

"Marvelous," George said, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand inturn. He turned to the Fenwick girl, letting go of Harry's hand to grab hers as he kneeled down in front of her, "Quinn! Always a pleasure."

"Oh, Quinn!" Fred greeted, taking her other hand, so both of the twins were shaking her hands at once, "It truly is wonderful to see you again — Mr. Head Boy, you haven't said hello to Quinn yet!"

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Mum!" Fred exclaimed as though he'd only just spotted her, seizing her hand too, "How really corking to see you —"

"I said, that's enough," Mrs. Weasley snapped, depositing her shopping in an empty chair, "Hello, Quinn, hello, Harry I suppose you've heard our exciting news?"

She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest.

"Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered to them under his breath as George got to his feet.

"I don't doubt that," Mrs. Weasley said, frowning suddenly, "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" George questioned, looking revolted at the very idea, "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," Percy said loftily, "I'm going up to change for dinner ..."

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Quinn and Harry, "But Mum spotted us."

⊰ ⋅ ⊱

It didn't take much to convince Mary to let Quinn stay for dinner.

"Oh, alright," she had sighed when she went to pick Quinn up, "Your mum's working late and I don't feel like cooking anyways."

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Weasleys, Quinn, Harry, Hermione, and Mary ate their way through five delicious courses.

However, Mary was visibly uncomfortable. Quinn could tell by how she answered Mr. Weasley questions about Muggle life very curtly, and how she never glanced past Quinn down the table. Quinn bit her lip, feeling bad about making Mary stay. She knew how she got in magical places, especially when Emmeline wasn't there.

"How're we getting to Kings Cross tomorrow, Dad?" Fred asked as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," Mr. Weasley said.

Everyone looked up at him, even Mary.

"Why?" Percy asked curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," George answered seriously, "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them —"

"— for Humongous Bighead!" Fred laughed.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," Mr. Weasley told him, "— and as I work there, they're doing me a favor —"

His voice was casual, but Quinn saw that Mr. Weasley's ears had gone red, just like Ron's did whenever he was under pressure.

"Good thing, too," Mrs. Weasley said briskly, "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground. It must be nice to only have one load of luggage to worry about."

"It does help with some of the stress," Mary smiled, rubbing Quinn's shoulder, "Although, she's never fully packed, always scrambling around the morning of looking for her slippers or something else."

Quinn's face heated up in in embarrassment as she stared down at the table. Harry teasingly nudged her with his elbow. She swatted him away.

Mary's comment made Mrs. Weasley narrow her eyes as she looked down the table, "You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," Percy said, in along-suffering voice, "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner, Quinn and Mary left the Leaky Cauldron, but not before saying goodbye.

"We'll catch up with you tomorrow, alright?" Ron said, giving her a side hug.

"You are sitting with us, right?" Harry asked, "Not your 'Train Gang'?"

"No, we're sitting with each other at the end of the year," Quinn said, hugging him quickly.

"One of us will wait for you if we beat you there," Hermione said, lightly grabbing her forearms, "Just wait for us on the platform, alright?"

"I will."

As they left the inn, Quinn didn't notice Harry's lingering stare as they walked out the door. But Mary did.

"Did you enjoy your last few weeks of holiday?" she asked as they walked down the street.

"I did," Quinn said as she hung on Mary's arm, "Harry and I have only ever really spent time together in school, so it was nice to be in a new environment."

Mary nodded, looking down at Quinn. Sometimes she wondered how she ended up here, living a quiet life with a daughter. She was so grateful for Quinn, to get the chance to her mother, but then she would think of the price, of whose lives it cost for it to happen. In those moments, Mary would hold Quinn closer.

"I'm sorry I made you stay," Quinn said suddenly, "I know you don't like being in magical places."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Mary told her, smoothing Quinn's hair, "I told you I didn't want to make dinner, remember?"

"I saw how tense you were," Quinn stated, looking up at her.

Mary sighed, "If I didn't want to stay, I wouldn't have. There's no need for you to worry."

"If you say so."

They spent the rest of the walk discussing what Quinn was excited for for next term and what her friends had written her about over the summer. One day, Mary would tell her why it was so hard for her to be in the wizarding world, that every corner she turned reminded her of the friends she lost, and that Harry Potter was the perfect embodiment of Lily and James.

But for now, they would walk in silence, and Mary would hold the daughter she never should have gotten close to her.

⊱ ────── 𖥔 ✶ 𖥔 ────── ⊰

WRITTEN: december 2024
WORDS: 5,118

AUTHOR'S NOTE! new chapter 😌 i'm feeling super motivated to write this fic right now which i am thrilled about because i love this fic so much as i've said a million times it's my pride and joy

some mary pov! we love her in this house. the family tree i came up with for this fic is crazy i kind of pride myself with it lol. also this chapter is called things left unspoken because harry stopped talking about the death omens and the things mary will tell quinn one day

i'm debating about whether or not i want to use andrew garfield and ben barnes as the remus and sirius face claims, i'm not sure. decisions decisions lol

i hope you had a merry christmas if you celebrate :) happy holidays!!