HP: Night of the Wolf

uly 1952

"Dad, my letter is here," Rosa's voice called through the door. "Come on, can we go?"

"We will go after lunch," Harry replied with a chuckle at the girl's excitement.

"Can I come in then?"

Harry shook his head.

"You know why you're not allowed in here."

Harry didn't need to see her to know that his daughter's bottom lip was sticking out comically.

The basement was off limits to Rosa after Harry had caught her the previous year with Minerva's wand, attempting to remove the hair on Jack's head.

Harry had been quite irritated, and Minerva had been furious.

As such, the rambunctious girl was no longer allowed in the basement.

"DAD!" Rosa groaned.

Sighing, Harry replaced the book he had been reading and opened the door.

"Alright, let's get the others ready."

Rosa beamed; the girl never having outgrown her resemblance to the few photos of Lily Potter Harry possessed.

"Are you really coming?" she asked sceptically.

"I wouldn't miss you getting your wand," Harry assured the girl.

"You don't usually come anywhere with us."

Harry deflated at the truth of the words.

Being in public had never gotten easier for him.

No matter how much time had passed, he was still gawped at, or intruded upon by people wanting photos or an autograph for his exploits on the continent.

He had thought that his fame would have died down, but when he realised it wouldn't, he seldom appeared in public.

Harry had never liked the attention, and that hadn't changed over the years. He simply wanted to live a normal life, but he wouldn't be granted that.

"You know why I don't like going out," he replied.

"Because everyone loves you for killing Grindelwald," Rosa said matter-of-factly.

"If only it was that simple," Harry muttered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they entered the kitchen.

Minerva was feeding Jasmine, their youngest daughter whilst Jack, Iris, and Dahlia had Kora run ragged.

"That's enough out of you lot," Harry chastised lightly.

Iris and Dahlia had come along two years after Jack, and the twin girls were proving to be quite the handful.

As with his only son, the younger girls had inherited the same colouring as Harry and Minerva, dark hair, and green eyes, leaving Rosa as the only redhead amongst them.

Having decided to take a break from anymore children after the twins were born, Jasmine was nearing two years old now, and would be the last.

Harry and Minerva had hoped for another a boy, but they were no less delighted with another daughter.

Poor Jack, however, had been beside himself at being given another sister.

They outnumbered him by four to one, and because they adored him so, he was barely given any respite.

The boy bemoaned the attention he got from his sisters, but he took it in his stride, humouring their whims and enduring the torment.

"Rosa!" Harry warned as he spotted the head of the cobra she had obtained peering out of her sleeve.

His daughter gave him a sheepish grin

It was during a trip to India a few years prior the girl had wandered off and happened to find a nest.

Harry had not discovered the hatchling until a few weeks after they had returned home.

Rosa hadn't understood why what she had done was so wrong, but she had formed a strong bond with the serpent, and Harry couldn't bring himself to separate the two.

He had his own companion, and so did Rosa and Jack who had also inherited the parseltongue abilities of his father and sister.

He'd befriended a green pit viper that was about as welcoming as Arcturus was to those he disliked.

The snake was a surly creature, but thankfully, Jack kept him in his room and away from the others.

Thus far, there was no sign that the younger girls had the same proclivity towards the reptiles, but only time would tell.

"Is Aunt Rosie coming?" Rosa asked.

Harry's prediction that the woman and his daughter would be close had proven to be correct.

Barely a day passed that Rosalina didn't visit the house to visit the children, but the bond she and Rosa shared was quite special.

It was as sweet as it was daunting, though Harry certainly wasn't upset that Rosa had such strong women in her life to look up to.

"Are you really going to make me go, dad?" Jack questioned.

Harry nodded.

"If I have to suffer it, so do you," he returned with a smirk. "We're in this together, you and me, remember?"

Jack nodded solemnly.

It was the pact that he and Harry had made when Jasmine had been born.

The two of them were outnumbered and had promised to be there for each other. It was quite silly really, but something Jack took quite seriously.

"Alright, Rosa, we're almost done," Minerva huffed amusedly at their impatient daughter who was bouncing in her chair, eliciting irritated hisses from her companion. "Get your shoes on."

Rosa bolted from the room, followed by Jack who was shaking his head, and the twins who were just excited to go to Diagon Alley.

"How is she already old enough to go to Hogwarts?" Minerva asked.

Harry could only shrug.

The years had gone by too quickly for his liking, but it wasn't as though he hadn't been kept busy.

Between raising his children, his work with Russia and the ICW, and training aurors, he'd had little time for much else.

Not that he had anything to complain about.

He was still able to manage his investments and make new ones, meaning his wealth had only continued to grow.

"She will be fine," Harry assured his wife. "She will have you there."

"I know," Minerva sighed. "Are you still determined to not teach full time?"

The same question was asked of him every year by Minerva, Albus, and Rosalina.

Despite enjoying covering for Minerva the years she took off after having children, Harry was not ready to commit to the school, not yet at least.

"No," he answered simply.

Minerva merely nodded her understanding, not needing to pry any further.

"Albus is determined to have you, especially since Rosalina retired."

The man had been quite incessant, but Harry would not relent, not even to Rosalina who had been threatening to retire for years before she had done when she realised she wouldn't convince him to replace her permanently.

"Well, Albus can wait," Harry shrugged. "I have other things to deal with first."

Minerva's expression darkened.

Without needing to elaborate, she knew what Harry was referring to.

Riddle.

Harry had seen neither hide nor hair of the man, though the whispers of his exploits across the globe had reached him.

It was frustrating to say the least, especially when Harry investigated them only to find he had moved on again.

The more time that passed, the more adept Tom had become at avoiding him, though Harry had come close when the man had ventured into Albania some years prior.

It could only have been a matter of minutes he had missed him by, the magic he had cast in the forest still fresh in the air.

What Tom had been doing, Harry could only guess, but it mattered little when he had missed the opportunity to kill him.

Still, it was only a matter of time before he resurfaced, and Harry had not wavered in his preparations to be ready for him when he did.

As dangerous as Tom might become, as invincible as the man thought he was, he would never be ready for Harry who had dedicated himself to his training to the point of obsession.

He was pulled from his musings by his returning children.

"Are you okay, dad?" Rosa asked worriedly as she stepped in front of him.

Harry gave the girl a smile, and she relaxed considerably.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Are you ready?"

The question was redundant, but it served to distract the girl from his demeanour.

She nodded frantically, and headed towards the floo, followed by three of her siblings.

"Are you going to talk to her before the end of summer?" Minerva asked, placing a hand on Harry's forearm. "She should hear everything from you rather than the other students."

Harry released a deep breath as he shook his head.

"No, not until she is older," he sighed. "She will hear things, and I will answer any questions she asks, but I'm not ready to talk her through everything, and she isn't ready to hear it."

Minerva smiled and nodded her agreement.

"Are you scared she will think you are a reckless prat?"

Harry chuckled.

"No, I'm scared that she will one day see me for what I really am, and she will think differently of me."

"She knows you killed Grindelwald, Harry," Minerva pointed out.

"She does," Harry acknowledged, "but she doesn't know about the hundreds of others that came before him, or everything else I did for us to win. She's too young to understand all of that, Minerva. Let her keep her innocence a while longer, and not think of me as a monster."

Minerva sobered at his words.

Harry barely spoke of the war and all the things he'd done, not even with his wife, and when he did so, it was in these moments that she saw the weight of his actions he still carried.

"She would never think badly of you," she said soothingly.

Harry could only smile sadly at his wife.

His biggest fear was no longer facing Tom or coming into contact with the dementors.

It was that his children would one day learn the truth of the horrors of the war and all Harry had done to end it.

He dreaded that day and dreaded their reaction.

Already, Rosa and Jack both found it difficult to believe their seemingly affable father had killed Grindelwald, but they had not seen that ruthless side to him, that darkness he was capable of exacting on his enemies when needed.

It was still there, waiting to be called upon at a moments notice, and no matter how much time passed, it always would be.

Harry was not ready for his children to see that side to him, but he feared with Tom still out there, it was inevitable.

(Break)

It was eleven years ago that her goddaughter had been born, and Rosalina couldn't believe that so much time had passed in what felt to be only a blink of an eye.

So much had happened, and though Rosa reminded her of her father, Rosalina was no less fond of the girl.

If anything, it only endeared her to her all the more.

Harry was a stubborn, frustrating, cheeky, and irritating man, just as he had been when he was a boy, but Rosalina wouldn't have him any differently.

Despite how much he frustrated her, she thought of him as she imagined any mother would a son.

"Can I help you?" a gentle voice interrupted her thoughts.

"The snowy owl, I'd like to take it."

The owner of the menagerie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Are you sure? She is quite the handful."

"Then she will be perfect for my goddaughter."

The man chuckled as he removed the cage from the shelf, the owl within flapping frantically, displeased by the disturbance.

"A gift then?" he asked.

"It's her eleventh birthday," Rosalina explained.

The man offered her a kind smile.

"So, she will be off to Hogwarts in September."

Rosalina nodded.

"I don't think even I was as excited as her," she snorted.

The man laughed as he headed towards the counter.

"I'm too old to remember my own excitement," he replied, "but the old place doesn't change. Every year I have an influx of students buying themselves a pet to be a companion whilst they're away from their parents."

"Oh, my goddaughter doesn't have that problem," Rosalina said dismissively. "Her mother is the deputy head," she added before handing the man a stack of coins and taking her leave from the shop.

With the summer only half over, the alley wasn't as busy as it would be in the coming weeks, something she had no doubt that Harry was happy about.

Still, that wouldn't stop those that were here from staring at him or wanting photos.

At first, Rosalina had found it rather amusing, but realising how much it bothered Harry to the point that he didn't like leaving his own home had changed her mind.

With a shake of her head, she headed towards Ollivander's, where she had arranged to meet those she thought of as her second family.

She spotted them entering the shop from a distance, and by the time she caught up and peered through the window, Rosa was bouncing excitedly on her toes at the prospect of getting her wand.

(Break)

It had been many years since Harry had last entered the widely regarded wand shop of Garrick Ollivander. He'd had no cause to since Gregorovitch had given him all the information he'd needed pertaining to his wand, which was working better for him now than it ever had.

Even the elder wand was eerily receptive to him when he deigned to put it to use.

In truth, the infamous wand was little more than a relic to him, a reminder of the battles he had fought to put an end to the war, and a symbol of his final victory against Grindelwald.

His own wand had been the one that had seen him through the trials and tribulations that life had put before him, and though the elder wand of the Peverells was indeed a powerful object, it held little appeal to him.

"Calm down, Mr Ollivander will be with you in a minute," Minerva huffed, attempting to settle Rosa.

"She's just excited," Rosalina broke in, holding up a cage containing an owl that closely resembled Harry's own companion.

Rosa squealed at the sight of the bird, startling it.

"Oh, he's so beautiful! Thank you, Aunt Rosie!"

The woman smiled at the girl fondly before the group were interrupted by a gasp.

"Baron Evans," Ollivander greeted him with a respectful bow. "It has been some time."

His tone was as mysterious as Harry remembered, his penetrating gaze always suggesting he knew much more than he let on.

"Mr Ollivander," Harry replied in kind.

The man's eyes shifted towards both of Harry's sleeves where he kept his wands, a look of curiosity flitting across them.

Harry too was curious to see what the man would say, and without prompting, he slid his most prized possession into his hand before offering it to the wandmaker.

Ollivander accepted it carefully and looked upon it in reverence.

"Ah, yes," he said in just above a whisper, closing his eyes. "What an extraordinary bond the two of you have formed. I must say, I have never seen anything like it. You have treated it well, and it you."

Without further comment, he returned the wand, and his gaze shifted once more to Harry's other sleeve.

With nothing more than a subtle shake of his head, Ollivander smirked before turning his attention to Rosa.

"Miss Evans," he greeted her. "Let us see if you take after your mother, your father, or neither."

Rosa merely nodded; a sense of nervousness having come over her.

"First, we take your measurements."

Rosa looked on bewildered as a measuring tape appeared seemingly from nowhere and began wrapping itself around her arm, then her leg, and finally rested between her eyes.

Jack laughed amusedly at her dumbfounded look, and even Harry struggled to maintain his composure.

"Hmm, let me see," Ollivander murmured to himself as he approached one of the many stacks of wands. "Perhaps, perhaps."

He placed several of them on the counter and beckoned Rosa forward, immediately pressing one into her hand before snatching it away just as quickly.

"No, certainly not," he muttered, a frown marring his features. "Try this. Hornbeam and dragon heartstring."

Rosa gave it a wave, and Harry had to intervene as a violent bolt of yellow magic erupted from the tip.

"No, not that either," Ollivander commented casually. "Aha, I don't see why it wouldn't fit."

After several more failed attempts, the wandmaker seemed to be baffled, but his excitement only grew with each wand the girl tried.

"Ahh, this could be it," he mused aloud as he handed Rosa yet another wand.

The girl accepted it cautiously, though her eyes lit up when it was in her hand.

With a wave, a shower of gold sparks sprayed from the end, and Ollivander clapped enthusiastically.

"Eleven inches, willow, and with a dragon heartstring core," he declared. "Quite unlike both of your parents."

Although Rosa was happy she had found her wand, she seemed to be disappointed that it wasn't like either Harry or Minerva's, and evidently thought they would feel the same.

"I thought it would be like yours," she said to the former.

Harry simply wrapped an arm around her.

"Your wand chose you for a reason, just as mine did when I was your age," he explained, eliciting a nod from Ollivander. "Look after it, and it will look after you."

"Wise words, Baron Evans. Your wand will not determine what kind of magic you will thrive in, but it will help you with whatever you choose to do. Your father knows the important of that better than any."

Harry nodded, though Rosa still seemed to be a little upset.

"I just thought…"

She broke off with a shake of her head.

"Though what?" Ollivander pressed.

"That because my magic is like my dad's, we would have a similar wand."

"Magic like your father's?" Ollivander asked curiously.

Harry's heart sunk as the corner of his daughter's lip quirked upwards, but he wasn't quick enough to prevent the cobra from suddenly emerging from her sleeve and startling the wandmaker.

Ollivander jumped backwards and clutched his chest whilst Rosa giggled.

Minerva chastised the girl, but Rosalina's laughter did not help matters.

"You have my apologies," Harry sighed as he handed the wandmaker his fee and led his family from the shop, only to groan as they bumped into quite the sizable crowd.

He had noticed the looks he'd received throughout the day of shopping and had hoped that maybe the wizarding public had learned to leave him alone.

That notion was now proving too good to be true, and he found himself once more being stared at in varying states of awe.

None in the crowd posed any threat to him or his family, but that didn't stop Harry feeling distinctly uncomfortable from the attention.

"Alright, you lot, time to clear off," Rosalina said irritably, shooing the people away as she drew her wand.

Most remembered her for her long stint at Hogwarts, and certainly weren't going to challenge the woman.

"Now, shall we get this one home and give her some cake?" she asked when the grumbling crowd had dispersed. "It won't be long until the others arrive."

Harry offered Rosalina a grateful smile before nodding and leading the group towards The Leakey Cauldron where they could floo home.

(Break)

Year after year, Lord Voldemort felt the pull to return to Britain. Despite his wanted status, the country was his home, and he had plans he wished to implement.

He had learned from the mistakes of Grindelwald and had no desire to meet the same fate as the man who had bitten off more than he could chew.

Perhaps one day his attention would turn to other countries, but not until Britain was firmly beneath his heel.

Still, Voldemort was no fool, and he knew he was not ready to return.

Throughout his travels, he had pondered how such a thing could be achieved, something that had taken little time to solve.

He needed people he could rely on to carry out his work whilst he remained in the shadows, and it had to appear as though they were doing so without his outside influence.

The purebloods would be his best base of support.

Already, during his earlier years of schooling he had laid the foundations amongst his peers, an unintended preparation, but one he could exploit.

He would use their own traditions against them.

If there was anything the purebloods feared, it was change, and the threat of such happening from the majority who significantly outnumbered them would spur many into action.

The muggleborns and half-bloods would be used equally to create a conflict that Voldemort could exploit.

He nodded to himself satisfactorily before packing away the quill and parchment he had been taking notes with.

As much as he missed home, his life had been something of an adventure.

Lord Voldemort had seen the world and had studied the many incredible magics he had discovered on the way.

When he did return to Britain, it would be as the most powerful wizard known to man, and as an invincible Dark Lord that even the likes of Harry Evans couldn't hope to defeat.

Lord Voldemort knew the man was looking for him, and Evans had come close a few times during his earlier years on the run, but he hadn't seen Evans for over four years now.

The man simply could not catch up with him.

The thought brought a smirk to the Dark Lord's face, and he removed the diadem he had liberated from the forest in Albania.

Three years it had taken him to find it, and even then, he had almost been caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the aforementioned thorn in his side.

Of course, he had escaped, but Voldemort could not fathom how the damned tiara was supposed to work.

He could feel the old magic radiating from it, but it was not receptive to his manipulations.

Was his mind and magic beyond the capabilities of the diadem?

It was a distinct possibility.

Even without the dozen or so rituals he had undergone, he had been a powerful and brilliant wizard.

Perhaps he would simply turn it into his second horcrux?

Lord Voldemort would wait before doing so.

He intended to make several more, but only items of significant value were good enough.

What self-respecting man would resort to something common to house a part of their soul?

Perish the thought.

For now, however, until the Dark Lord was ready to make his triumphant return, he would continue with his travels, continue learning, and continue on his journey to be nothing short of the most powerful wizard to have ever lived.

It wasn't as though he had much work left to do, after all.

(Break)

"Here, this arrived from Nicholas and Perenelle this morning," Harry explained as he handed another gift to Rosa.

"Are they not coming?" the girl asked disappointedly.

Harry shook his head.

"They're somewhere in the amazon rain forest," Harry chuckled.

The Flamels had decided to travel and had been doing so for the past few years. They stopped by a couple of times a year to share their adventures with everyone before they set off once more.

"Oh," Rosa murmured as she opened the box, yelping in surprise as it exploded, revealing Nicolas and Perenelle when the smoke cleared.

"Uncle Nick!" Rosa exclaimed, jumping to her feet, and wrapping her arms around the pair.

"You stupid prat!" Harry scolded; his wand drawn. "I almost cursed you."

Nicholas chuckled amusedly.

"Allow me my fun, Harry."

Harry pursed his lips before Perenelle pulled him into an embrace.

"You should know him well enough by now," she pointed out.

"You didn't really think we would miss your birthday, did you?"

Rosa shook her head, still refusing to let go of the alchemist.

"Here's your real present," the man sighed, enlarging a box he pulled from his pocket before handing it to the girl.

"What is it?" Rosa asked as she opened it.

"It's a shrunken head," Nicholas informed her delightedly.

Rosa grimaced as she removed it.

"A shrunken head?" Harry groaned. "Nick, you can't…"

"Quiet boy," Nicholas interrupted.

He was perhaps the only man who could speak to Harry as he pleased without provoking his ire.

"If you allow me to explain, I'm sure you'll be pleased she has it."

"Oh, I have to hear this," Minerva muttered, her lips set in a tight line.

"It is cursed," Nicholas shrugged. "It will only activate if someone is foolish enough to attempt to steal anything from your trunk."

"What kind of curse?"

Nicholas shrugged once more.

"The chieftain that gifted it assured me it isn't lethal or will cause any permanent damage, but it will make any would-be thief think twice about doing so again."

Harry released a deep breath.

"You could have gotten her a book or some sweets."

"Where's the fun in that?" Nicholas asked with a smirk.

Harry could only shake his head.

"Well, we are pleased to see you, even if you have no idea what a suitable gift is. Why don't you just give her a cursed dagger whilst you're at it?"

"Do you need one?" Nicholas asked Rosa.

"No, she does not," Minerva said firmly before Rosa could answer. "Here, this is from Arcturus and Melania," she added, indicating another box.

"There's nothing cursed in there, is there, Black?" Harry asked.

The smirk that tugged at the man's lips would have unsettled most, but Harry knew him too well to be baited by it.

"Maybe next year," Arcturus returned.

Harry shot the man a glare, though his eyes were alight with amusement.

"Wow!" Rosa gushed as she removed a silver ring with a mounted emerald as the centrepiece.

"That is quite a special ring," Arcturus explained. "I have already set it up as a portkey so that it will bring you to my home if you ever need to escape anywhere in an emergency. Your father can also add this place, and anywhere else he thinks will be useful."

"You can add ours to it," Charlus declared, offering the girl a smile.

"Other than that, it is just a very beautiful ring that has been in my family for generations," Arcturus continued.

"Then shouldn't it stay in your family?" Rosa asked.

"You are family," Arcturus replied gruffly. "Now, open your other presents."

Charlus chuckled to himself.

Whenever anything sentimental was discussed by his brother-in-law, he would immediately change the subject.

His words weren't lost on Rosa, however, who hugged the man and his wife before accepting her next gift.

"That one is from us," Charlus declared, indicating between himself and Dorea.

They had gifted the girl a weeklong training camp with the Holyhead Harpies that she would attend before beginning Hogwarts.

Rosa was quite the Quidditch fanatic, just like Minerva, though they favoured different teams which often resulted in some amusing arguments between the two.

"Thank you," Rosa said excitedly. "And it is with the best team," she added smugly to her mother who narrowed her eyes good-naturedly.

"Ours is next," Reg announced.

He and Nancy had chosen to settle in England, both working as aurors and raising their two children, Axel, and Clara.

Reg had little to do with his family, though he remained on reasonable terms with his parents.

His older brother on the other hand was a different matter entirely.

Titus had never gotten over his jealousy of Reg choosing his own bride, and the two had quite the fall out shortly after Axel had been born.

It resulted in Titus being thoroughly embarrassed in a violent altercation when he attempted to attack his younger sibling.

The two hadn't spoken since.

"I love them!" Rosa squealed as she unwrapped the dragonhide boots.

Reg and Nancy smiled as the girl hugged them as she had the others.

"I think ours is the last one," Gilbert announced.

The man had never left Romania other than to visit the others he had fought with. He and Sorina had another two daughters along with Iulia who had opted to go to Durmstrang a couple of years prior.

"It is made out of basilisk fangs," Gilbert explained. "I've been collecting them for years and thought I'd give them to someone who would appreciate them."

Harry had employed Derek to run the farm in Romania when he struggled to find a job elsewhere.

His criminal record had followed him, and none had been willing to take a chance on him, despite his decorated service during the war.

It was with reluctance Gilbert had accepted, but since he had taken over, Harry knew it was in hands he could trust with his life.

What he had given Rosa was a beautifully crafted writing set with quills of varying sizes.

"You made this?" Rosa asked.

Gilbert nodded, flushing slightly.

"It's wonderful," Rosa said sincerely. "Thanks Uncle Gil."

The man waved her off as his cheeks reddened further.

"Shall we cut the cake?" Minerva asked.

Rosa bounced excitedly on her toes.

"Is it treacle?" she asked.

"Yes," Minerva huffed as Harry shot her a victorious grin.

The girl was like her father in many ways, down to the love of treacle the man had.

"It's time like this that makes me want to forget about my career and have children of our own," Dorea murmured as she and Charlus followed the others towards the kitchen.

"Our time will come when you're ready," the man replied.

Dorea smiled at how understanding he had been.

For years, she had been pondering retiring as a healer, but she simply couldn't.

She loved her job, and though she wanted to be a mother, she knew when she did so, there would be no going back to St Mungo's.

Dorea would give as much to being a mother as she had to the hospital.

It had to be all or nothing for her, and Charlus had supported her every step of the way.

They were both still young, after all, so they were in no rush.

Still, with every passing year, the prospect of retirement became less filled with trepidation, and Dorea knew that soon enough, it would be her and Charlus's turn to have a baby of their own.

(Break)

It never failed to surprise Albus how quickly the summer holidays passed. He was kept busy during the months that the castle was bereft of students, and even more so when they were there.

It meant that the years went by quickly for him, and though he had been the headmaster for several now, he still felt as unprepared for the role as he had the day he had been appointed.

Still, there was no more satisfying feeling than looking upon the sea of faces in the Great Hall on the first day of term, and the nervous expressions of the first years as they entered.

"When I call your name, you will step forward and the sorting hat will be placed upon your head," Minerva explained. "When your house has been announced, you will join your peers. Christopher Abercrombie."

Albus watched with interest as each student was sorted, some names being familiar to him as sons and daughters of prominent families, but it was when a particular one was called that he leaned forward intently.

"Rosa Evans."

The Great Hall filled with whispers as the redhead approached the stool, all knowing who her parents were, one of them being a permanent professor, and the other as enigmatic and as famous as ever.

The hat took some time deliberating over the girl, and Albus wondered what was taking so long before the decision was made.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it announced emphatically.

The students garbed in robes trimmed with maroon exploded in a round of applause, and Albus joined them.

Rosa, however, looked at the hat confusedly before joining her house.

Minerva was evidently pleased by the choice of the hat, as was Albus, but something told him the girl herself was not entirely convinced.

Maybe he would discuss it with Armando, well, his portrait at least.

It had come as quite the shock when the painting of the man had suddenly come to life, though it was not quite the Armando Albus remembered.

In many ways, it was like talking to his old friend, though the portrait lacked his charisma, his warmth, and even most of his memories.

Armando didn't remember his death, though he was acutely aware of the state of the world before he had died.

It was odd conversing with him and was closer to speaking to an essence rather than the man himself.

Nonetheless, Albus was pleased to have him back in some form and sought advice quite often from the portrait.

"Would you like me to return the carriages to the station, Professor?"

Albus smiled at the enormous man he had taken on as the new gamekeeper.

Rubeus's father had died during his seventh year, and with nowhere else to go, Albus had invited him to stay on.

His talent with creatures was undeniable, and his knowledge of the forest was second to none.

One day, he would undoubtedly be the care of magical creatures professor, but for the time being, Hagrid was simply pleased to do the job he had been given.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Albus replied warmly.

The man beamed through his beard before taking his leave from the hall.

For such a large man, Rubeus took very little else from his birth mother.

He was a sensitive person, kind, and considerate to all, and Albus had found a place in his heart for the gentle half-giant.

(Break)

The Gryffindor common room was just as her mother described it. There were plush chairs spread throughout, a roaring fireplace, and the walls were adorned with banners depicting the lion of her house, something that had been in question during the time Rosa wore the sorting hat.

"You could be great in Slytherin, you do possess his talent, after all."

"Then why don't you put me there?"

The house of the serpents is no place for you, young Evans. Despite your undeniable talent, you are more bold than cunning."

Rosa hadn't cared what house she was going in to.

Her parents had both been Gryffindors, but neither had tried to influence her in following in their footsteps.

"Your dormitory is at the top of the stairs," the prefect announced. "If you need anything, you just need to ask."

The girl was friendly enough, though Rosa suspected she wouldn't need her assistance.

She already felt as though she knew the castle like her own home.

"Watch out, here comes Evans," a voice rang out from the portrait hole.

A group of boys in the corner hurriedly hid whatever they had been looking at near the fireplace and plastered a look of innocence across their faces as Rosa's mother entered the room, her expression as stern as whenever she was going to tell someone off.

Her gaze swept over the group of boys before coming to rest on the first years.

"I'm sure Miss Chandler has already given you the ins and outs of the house, but if you do have any further questions, my office is open."

With a final look around the room and a subtle smile towards Rosa, she left, and many breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bloody hell is she really your mother, Evans?" an older boy asked.

Rosa nodded.

"Rather you than me."

"What's wrong with my mother?" Rosa questioned, her temper rising.

"Nothing really," the boy placated, "but you don't want to get on the wrong side of her. She's scary."

Rosa laughed heartily.

"My mother is the sweetest woman you will ever meet, but she can be scary," she agreed.

"What's she like away from the castle?" another asked curiously.

Rosa shrugged.

"She's just my mum. She looks after me, my brother, and three sisters."

The other students looked as though they couldn't imagine their head of house living what they would consider to be a normal life.

"Is your dad really Harry Evans?" a first-year boy questioned. "The one who killed Grindelwald?"

Rosa nodded.

"He is."

The younger students whispered excitedly.

"He sometimes teaches here when Professor Evans takes time off," an older student explained. "He's a nice enough bloke. Quiet, and not someone to get on the wrong side of."

"You'd be stupid to get on the wrong side of someone who killed a dragon," another commented, "and led the entire ICW army during the war."

"He killed Grindelwald," another reiterated.

"And he was The Serpent."

"The Serpent?"

"You've never heard of him? He was a famous Hit-Wizard before he joined the army. It took him less than a year to be put in charge."

Rosa's head was spinning by the amount of information she was hearing, things she didn't know about her father, and things she couldn't be certain were true.

"A dragon?" she sputtered.

"How can you not know about the dragon?" the older boy huffed. "He's your dad."

"He doesn't talk about the war," Rosa defended. "I know he killed Grindelwald; I've seen all of his medals."

"That's all you know?"

Rosa nodded, feeling foolish that she seemingly didn't know her own father at all.

"Bollocks," the boy cursed, looking guilty. "Maybe you should speak to your mother about it. She'll know better than any of us."

Should she speak to her mother?

Making her mind up after only a moment of pondering it, Rosa left the common room and headed towards her mother's office.

"I thought you might come," the woman greeted her warmly as she gestured for Rosa to take a seat. "What stories have you heard so far?"

Rosa shrugged as she sat.

"Is the dragon thing true?"

Her mother released a deep breath as she nodded.

"I'm sorry that you've been sheltered from it all," she sighed. "Yes, your father killed a dragon."

"How?" Rosa asked, dumbfounded by the revelation.

Her mother offered her a sad smile as she opened the top drawer of her desk and retrieved a folder.

She looked at it almost sadly for a moment before placing it in front of Rosa.

"These are all the headlines from those years pertaining to your father and his deeds," her mother explained somewhat disapprovingly. "He's a good man, Rosa, and did everything he could to keep his friends and everyone home safe."

Rosa frowned as she opened the folder.

There were dozens of articles that her mother had collected and kept.

Reading through them proved to be more fantastical than most of the tales her father had read to her and her siblings whilst she was growing up.

"Did this really happen?" Rosa asked, looking up at her mother.

The woman was crying, something the girl had never seen before.

"They did," she confirmed. "They were difficult years for your father, and even now, he doesn't speak about them. He wakes up in the night sometimes when he dreams of all the things he saw and did."

"Poor dad," Rosa said sadly as she looked upon the figure standing over a dead dragon in the photo. "He really is a hero, isn't he?"

Her mother nodded.

"To most people, he is," she replied proudly, "but more than anything, he is mine. Your father, even when I first met him, was and still is the most wonderful person I know. Don't let what you read there change what you think of him."

"It just makes him more special," Rosa declared. "I had no idea."

"And now you do," her mother sighed. "Come on, off to bed with you. If you want to speak about it more tomorrow, or any other day, I'll be here."

"Thanks mum," Rosa returned as she stood and headed towards the door, pausing before she reached it. "You've never told me how you and dad met. How did it happen?"

Her mother blushed deeply.

"That is something you will have to wait until you are older to hear," she said firmly.

"I bet it's disgusting," Rosa grumbled. "You and dad are always kissing when you think we aren't looking."

As her mother opened her mouth to chastise her, Rosa fled from the room, a tactic she had learned from an early age.

She giggled to herself all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, though her thoughts inevitably shifted to everything she had learned.

Her father was a powerful, and famous wizard, she had always known that, but only now did she realise just how special he really was.

It made her miss the man terribly, and she would even tolerate having another sibling if it meant she could spend a year with him at Hogwarts.