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🕑 Added 2025-10-28 00:12:18 +0000 UTCEchoes of Home and Destiny
After a rather fun day with Sirius, the boys returned home full of excitement. The moment they crossed the door, the first thing they saw was their Aunt Mor, lying on the sofa and resting in complete tranquility. Nearby, their mother appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. When she saw them enter, her face lit up with joy; she placed the tray on a small table and opened her arms wide.
“Mom!” they both shouted in unison, running toward her to hug her. Sally bent down slightly to receive them, wrapping them in a warm embrace.
“One would think you’d been apart for years, the way you act,” commented Sirius with a slightly jealous grin. They never greeted him that enthusiastically when he appeared, but if their mother was gone for just a few hours, they reacted as though she’d been missing for an eternity. He quickly realized how useless that comparison was—after all, she was their mother.
Harry and Percy ignored him instantly, completely focused on her, as if Sirius had ceased to exist.
“Won’t anyone say hello to me?” asked Mor from the sofa, her expression mischievous.
“Hi, Aunt Mor!” they both replied, hurrying over to give her a hug too.
However, as Percy hugged her, he frowned. “Aunt Mor, why do you smell like… like a dragon threw up on you?” he asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
Harry stepped back quickly; he had noticed the smell too, but he wasn’t dumb enough to say it out loud.
“Are you calling me stinky?” Mor exclaimed, pretending to be offended as she grabbed Percy’s cheeks and pulled them with a hint of irritation.
“Ish true!” he managed to mumble through squished lips, trying to hold her wrists but failing miserably. In the end, he surrendered to her grip.
Mor let out a huff and released him. “There’s nothing I can do; this awful smell won’t go away anytime soon,” she muttered, still annoyed.
While Percy glared at her in mild protest, Harry turned toward his mother.
“Mom, we went to the zoo today! Percy can talk to sea creatures, and I can talk to snakes. But Padfoot said we can’t tell anyone or we’ll be bloody bastards,” Harry said matter-of-factly.
Two pairs of eyes immediately turned to Sirius—Sally’s and Mor’s, both sharp and accusing. Sirius froze, feeling as if his godson had just sent him straight to the guillotine. Barely a minute had passed since they’d returned home.
“Hey, hey! I didn’t say that!” Sirius protested quickly, raising his hands in defense. “I said it’s better not to tell people you can talk to those things, or you’d get into trouble! And that the people who used that ability in ancient times were the bastards—that’s what I said!”
Both women seemed to accept the explanation, though Mor gave him a teasing smirk before speaking.
“You’re talking about Parseltongue, aren’t you? What nonsense. Many people could speak it in the past. That language allowed wizards to use natural magic far more powerful than what exists today. Of course, some fools who had the gift caused fear, and that’s why those born later started hiding their ability.”
Percy, fascinated, raised his hand eagerly. “And me? Can I speak magical languages too?”
Mor smiled, amused. “Yes, yours is very powerful as well. Both languages share the same principle and strength.”
Percy’s eyes sparkled. He puffed out his chest proudly and looked at his brother with a triumphant grin. “Harry, I can talk to more animals than you—as long as they’re sea creatures. That means I should be the older brother.”
“So what?” Harry countered, raising an eyebrow. “We live on land, not in the water. If we ever get lost in a forest, I can ask a snake for directions. What would you do?”
“But if we’re at the beach, I can ask for directions there!” Percy argued immediately, trying to find a way to turn things around.
“For what? To reach the bottom of the ocean? No thanks,” Harry replied with a smirk of victory.
“Tsk… damn it, you’re right, it’s useless,” Percy grumbled in defeat.
Mor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If any sea god had heard Percy say that, they’d probably have caused an earthquake out of sheer outrage. She decided to say nothing—better to let him figure it out on his own in time.
“Did Grandpa, Dad, or Mom know how to speak Parseltongue?” Percy asked, glancing toward the portrait of their grandparents.
“Hmm… as far as I remember, I don’t think so,” replied Euphemia after a brief pause. “We barely got to know your mother when she was still a student. And as your aunt said, many who had that gift preferred to hide it rather than be labeled as evil.”
Her tone was gentle, yet clear—it wasn’t the gift that made someone evil, but the fear of others that had twisted its meaning.
“Then I can’t tell anyone… I don’t want to be evil,” Harry said seriously.
“Wait!” Percy interjected suddenly, returning to his earlier line of thought. “Mermaids and mermen are sea creatures too! That means I can talk to them!” he said, eyes gleaming with excitement.
Everyone burst into laughter at his declaration.
“Well, it’s getting late. I’d better be going,” said Sirius, glancing out the window at the darkening sky.
“Won’t you stay for dinner?” Sally asked kindly.
“No, I’m fine. That grumpy guy at home probably cooked something already… though I should check it for poison,” Sirius joked with a grin. Then he knelt down to the boys’ level and ruffled their hair. “See you next time, boys. Keep an eye on your mail; something interesting should be arriving soon.”
He left those words hanging in the air, his tone carrying a hint of mystery that instantly caught the brothers’ attention.
After saying their goodbyes, the boys thanked him for such a fun day.
Later, the family gathered for dinner. Between laughter and stories, the children shared their little adventure, while Sally talked about her work with the knights. She had spent the day brewing fire-resistant potions because, according to reports, a dragon had wandered into a forest near a non-magical village, and the wizards had been slow to respond.
As for Mor, she vaguely explained the reason behind her awful smell: she had run into an old, repulsive witch she’d known long ago, and they’d had a “minor disagreement.” She didn’t elaborate on what had ended up destroyed during that “discussion.”
And so, the day came to an end with everyone chatting peacefully about their experiences—surrounded by laughter, cookies, and the comforting warmth of home—before finally heading off to bed.
…
“Ahh… my baby grew up so well.”
Harry heard that voice the moment he opened his eyes. He immediately realized he was no longer in his room. All around him stretched a vast expanse of golden dunes beneath a sky that seemed to hover between dawn and dream. A cool breeze blew gently, brushing against his face. Looking down, he noticed he was barefoot; the sand was warm and soft, slipping between his toes as he moved them curiously.
“I was right to leave him with her. She’s done a good job,” the same voice said again. It sounded both near and far at once, as if it came from everywhere and nowhere.
“Hello?” he called, turning around in search of the source. He recognized that tone instantly—it was the same maternal voice that often visited him in his dreams, so full of warmth that it felt like an embrace just to hear it.
“This year will be the beginning, but also the change of everything. Not only for you, but for your brother… and for the world.”
The words floated in the air, soft yet firm, as if carried by the wind itself.
“Very few people know what awaits you, but I hope you can face it all. Keep growing as beautifully as you have. It won’t be long before we can meet, my dear. Before you learn about your roots.”
As the voice spoke, the ground trembled slightly. The desert dust began to rise, swirling until it formed a faint silhouette. It was a feminine figure; her face was hidden by the light, but her movements were calm and graceful. She reached out, her hand brushing through Harry’s hair in a gesture so gentle, so real, that he held his breath.
“Your mother would be proud of what you’ve become.”
And with those final words, the dream dissolved.
Harry sat up with a start, breathing quickly. He reached for his glasses, and once he put them on, he saw that he was back in his room. The familiar dimness of early morning filled the space; only the faint whisper of the wind against the window broke the silence. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to shake off the strange feeling that the dream had been far too real.
Then he turned toward the other bed. They no longer slept in bunk beds; now there were two single ones, side by side. Percy was still fast asleep, half-facedown, hair messy, a thin line of drool marking his pillow.
Harry grabbed one of his pillows and threw it mercilessly at his brother’s face.
“Huagh!” Percy yelped, jerking awake, eyes wide in sleepy confusion.
“It’s time to wake up,” said Harry, pointing at the clock on the nightstand.
“We’re on vacation, I can still sleep,” Percy grumbled, burying his head under the blankets.
“Did you finish the homework Professor Gema gave us for the holidays?” Harry asked calmly. “Remember she said she might stop by to check if you did it.”
“Ughhh!” Percy groaned, flailing dramatically under the sheets. “Professor Gema is the devil,” he said with solemn seriousness, his hair sticking up in every direction. Then, frowning, he added, “Wasn’t she supposed to be one of the knights who works with Mom?”
“I guess she has free time to teach too,” Harry replied, shrugging. He didn’t seem worried. Deep down, he knew Gema was far more patient with them than any other teacher—most likely because she was his mother’s coworker… and almost certainly his Aunt Mor’s as well.
Percy knew that too, but decided he needed to act fast.
“We could ask Aunt Mor to charm her into forgetting about our homework,” he suggested with a mischievous grin.
“I’ll tell Cousin Dred you want to use his mother to get out of doing homework,” Harry replied tiredly, already walking toward the door.
“Then we just have to ask Mom to bake some buns for him,” Percy countered instantly, already forming another plan. His mind was running at full speed, weaving a chain of ideas so chaotic—and so hopelessly flawed—that it would probably cause more trouble than simply doing the homework himself.
Harry glanced back at him, fighting a smile. It was obvious that, one way or another, Percy’s scheme would end in disaster. And yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy these little family mornings; even the complaints, the shouts, and the mischiefs felt like part of the warm harmony that filled their home.
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Nicolae
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