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The Great Hall was silent other than the chanting of the young woman, her hands raised toward the stone ceiling.  Her chanting ebbed and flowed with the pulse of the magic that came from the three ley lines that all three of her companions could feel.

The woman began to glow with a blue aura and a burst of blood red energy leaped from her upraised hands to feather against the unyielding stone.  The column of magic pulsed in time with the woman's chant, building with each stanza until she reached the end of her casting, and all the occupants in the room were blinded by the final pulse.

"Bloody hell!" the largest of the observers breathed as he stared at the ceiling, which now displayed the sunlit sky of the summer day, complete with the clouds scudding across the ceiling.

"Bloody hell is right," the other man said staring upward in amazement.  "I thought you were going to make windows to let light in, not... that."

"That's our Rowena," the plump woman said admiringly.  "Even her windows stand out above all others."

"Oh dear," the caster said, covering her mouth with her left hand.  "I certainly didn't intend to do that."

"Congratulations!" a new voice broke in, "You've invented magical glass Clara, you must be proud."

The two men were instantly on guard, wands drawn, offensive spells on their lips, only to find themselves and Helga  frozen in place.

"Endora?" Rowena asked.  "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to invite you to my wedding Clara, that's what Sisters do, you know," a redheaded woman emerged from the shadows.

"And I'm here to help," a fopish man said as he joined her.

"Arthur, do be quiet," Endora instructed.  "Maurice is finally making an honest woman of me Clara, and I'd like you to stand up with me."

"But only because I don't have the legs for the dress," Arthur snarked.

"Of course I'll be at your wedding, and I'd be proud to stand up with you, but could you please release my friends?"

"Oh of course, how selfish of me," Endora said in a condescending tone.  She turned to examine the frozen people.  "So these are your charity cases?  Which one is your friend Gershom?"

"Godric," Rowena said, going to stand next to her frozen lover.  "Godric Gryffindor.  Release them Endora?  Please?"

"Of course," the redhead said with a small gesture and a smile.

Godric, Salazar and Helga crowded around Rowena.  "Are you alright Rowena?" Helga asked.

"Why are they calling you Rowena?" Arthur asked.

The woman blushed.  "I've never cared for the name Clara.  When I left to find my adventure, I took on a new name, Rowena Ravenclaw."  She seemed to steel herself.  "Endora, Arthur, these are my friends, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor.  Everyone, this is Endora my younger sister, and Arthur our brother."

"I always get introduced last," Arthur quipped.  "That's because I'm the youngest and prettiest."

"Such power," Salazar said as if mesmerized.  "How is it possible for them to be so powerful?"

"Good," Godric breathed.  "I was wondering if I was imagining it."

"I need to speak with my sister," Rowena said.  "Will you excuse us?"

Taking her sister by the arm, the woman led Endora into the seemingly endless hallways of the castle.

"Such a quaint little place you've built here Clara," Endora said breaking the silence between them.  "What are you and Gilbert intend to do here with your other friends?"

"This is going to be a school, if we ever get it finished," Rowena said.  "And his name is Godric."

"A school?"

"To teach young magicals to use their powers." she explained.  "To prevent them from becoming dangers to themselves and others."

"Clara, you know you're only building up their hopes.  The so called magicals you get for this school will be the stunted weaklings you've taken to surrounding yourself with."

"Endora," Rowena said with a sigh, "you know I've never been the most powerful witch.  Half the time I ruin the things I try to enchant.  The ceiling in the Great Hall, the 'Magical Glass' that amused you so much is one of my happier accidents.  You should see what I did to Godric's hat."

"You have problems because you don't pay attention to what you are doing Clara," Endora said quietly, "you are as powerful as anyone else in the family."

"Thank you for that little sister," Rowena said with a blush, "but we both know the truth.  At home I was the pathetic almost a witch with erratic powers.  Here I'm an amazing witch who can do more than almost anyone, and I stand out for being powerful instead of for being weak."

Endora nodded.  "So does Gladwin know what he's getting into?  Does he know how old you are?"

"Godric and I have discussed it, yes.  He has a refreshingly different attitude about our situation.  He once told me that everyone lives the same amount of time.  You are born, and then you die, hopefully well.  In between those events, are a series of 'nows'. Each person gets a different number of 'nows' but they can only use one at a time."

Endora blinked.  "That is an uncommonly wise thing to say.  Perhaps this Gervase will turn out to be good enough for you."

"The question I have is am I good enough for him," Rowena took her sister's hand.  "When is your wedding, I'll be there."

---oooOOOooo---

She was too late.  The very ground underneath her feet was scorched and smoking.  How much power had those two wonderful, infuriating, and confusing men expended trying to defend the school?  Why hadn't they waited for her?

To her left, Rowena heard Helga gasp in horror.  She had found Salazar... or what was left of him.  Horribly burned, from the way the man's body was positioned it was clear that he had spent his last breath fighting.  A dozen paces further on lay her beloved Godric, the stub of his wand in his left hand and the oddly undamaged sword that had come to bear his name in his right.

After most of a century together, Rowena wasn't sure if she could go on without him, but she knew she must.

Perhaps a fifteen yards away a man swayed as the regained his feet.  "Stand down Mother, and you too Aunt Rowena.  I have proven myself my father's master and that I was superior even to the great Godric Gryffindor.  I have no desire to slay mere women.

"Salazar, how dare you do this?" Helga demanded raising her wand to the youngest of her nineteen children.  "Your father, and Godric both dead at your hand.  Do you really think I will allow you to get away with this?"

"The Muggle Born must be ejected from the school, it is the only way the purity of my vision for the future can be maintained," Salazar the younger barked, batting away his mother's disarming spell.  "Father would have supported me if Godric and you two hadn't poisoned him against me."

Rowena looked up from her dead husband for the first time.  "You killed my husband," she said as her hair began to move as if wind blown.

"Of course I did Auntie Row," the man laughed as he dropped his own mother with a casual ease.  "He stood against me."

"You killed my husband," she repeated, the wand she had never needed falling from her nerveless fingers.  Static electricity began crackling around her head as her fury built.

"The great Godric Gryffindor fell before my power," the oblivious man crowed.  "As did the famous Salazar Slytherin and the Amazing Helga Hufflepuff.  In your haze of confusion, you were always the weakest of the four founders Auntie Row, stand down before I destroy you!"

"You," Rowena said again as she felt her magic rampage past her ability to control it and realized that she didn't care, "KILLED MY HUSBAND!"

The youngest child of Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin died never knowing what had happened to him as lightning suddenly flashed from the heavens and obliterated him utterly.

Rowena sank to her knees next to her beloved as the tears began to fall.  A hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"Clara?"

Rowena looked up into her sister's eyes.  She flowed to her feet and wrapped the redhead in an embrace.  "Endora?  How did you know?"

"We all felt your loss," the younger witch explained while returning the hug and gently stroking the other woman's hair.  "We all felt your pain.  It's time you came home."

"Home," Rowena repeated.  "But what of my children and grandchildren?"

"You can always visit them any time you want, no matter where they live, you know that Clara."

Rowena nodded, and then made a decision.  it was time to go home.  It was time to stop being Rowena.  She closed her eyes and cried for what she had lost.

After a few moments Clara opened her eyes.  "Thank you Endora.  You're right, it is time to go home."

---oooOOOooo---

When history spoke of the end of the Founders of Hogwarts, it became an accepted fact that Godrick Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin met each other in battle and the resulting carnage resulted in the deaths of Helga and Rowena.

What history didn't tell those who came after was just which Salazar Slytherin it was who slew the founders.  It has often been said that history is written by the winners.  There were no winners on that particular day.

---oooOOOooo---

As the red haired woman fell lifeless to the floor of the nursery, the Dark Lord turned his attention to the child who was somehow prophesied to be a threat.  The little one had pulled himself upright in his cot, his tiny hands gripping at the bars.  The boy's large green eyes were regarding him with a mixture of curiosity and fear.  Voldemort raised his wand.

And found himself pinned to the wall of the nursery.

"You dare?" an old woman appeared before him carrying a ridiculously large hand bag and wearing a fur stole and an absurd hat.  "After what your grandfather did, you dare attack the last of my family?

"Who are you?" Voldemort gasped out.

"You killed my grandson and his wife and threatened their son and you dare ask who I am?  I utterly destroyed your grandfather after he killed my husband and his own mother and father, and I will not stand for you to follow any further in his footsteps!"

"How are you doing this?" Voldemort demanded.  "Where is your wand?"

"Wand?" she whispered.  "Silly magician, I have no need of a wand! If you ever threaten my family again, this will seem a lover's kiss!"

She gestured and the Dark Lord's flesh exploded allowing his cloak to fall to the floor.  The energy feedback of the spell destroyed the entire upper floor of the cottage.

"Oh dear," Clara said, covering her mouth with her left hand as she moved to protect herself and the boy from the wild magic she had unleashed.  "I certainly didn't intend to do that."

After a few moments, the destruction had quieted down.  Clara lifted the crying boy from the remains of his cot.  "There, there," she cooed.  "No one is going to hurt you.  I'm your Gran Clara.  Oh dear," she wiped at the boy's eyes with a handkerchief that appeared in her hands.  "Whatever shall we do with you young Harry?  Your old Gran is far too crotchety to care for you herself.  We need to find you a mum, don't we?"

The old woman's face brightened.  "Of course, I know just the place for you!"

The pair disappeared without a sound.

---oooOOOooo---

"Headmaster," the huge man said, "I'm tellin' yer, he wasn't there.  I found James and poor Lily, and even You Know Who's cloak and wand, but Harry Potter wasn't there."

To suggest that this news caused Albus Dumbledore concerns would be something of an understatement.  The monitoring equipment he had calibrated to the boy showed that he was alive and happy, but nothing that would indicate where he might be.

He would find the boy.  He had to.

---oooOOOooo---

Samantha Stevens heard an odd noise coming from her hall closet and sighed.  That could only mean one thing.  She opened the door and smiled.  "Hello Aunt Clara."

Clara entered the room, carrying a bundle of blankets and appearing to be a bit more distracted than usual.  "Oh, hello dear, I've come to ask a very large favor of you."

"What can I do to help you Aunt Clara?" Sam asked while leading the old woman to her sofa and conjuring a cup of tea for her guest.

"This is Harry," Clara said as she unwrapped the sleeping boy from the blankets and handing him to the blond woman.

"Harry?" Samantha cradled the toddler in her arms showing the efficiency of movement that only a mother could have.  "And who is Harry?"

"Harry is my Great Grandson.  His parents were just killed; he's the last of his family… the last of my children’s children." Clara explained.

"Aunt Clara, are you sure?  I mean you haven't had any children since the 1100s," Sam examined the boy.  He appeared to be about a year and a half old, more or less the same age as her Tabitha.

"Oh, there are quite a few 'greats' in that Great Grandson thing.  But as you know I married into the wand users and I've always kept track of my family.  Harry is the last... the very last of my children's children,” the old woman wiped at her eyes.  "I caught the murderer of his parents in the act of attacking the boy and punished him quite severely.  But I cannot care for him; can you imagine me with a child?"

In truth, Samantha could not.  "What are you asking?"

"I know you've got your hands full with Tabitha, but I was hoping that you could take Harry in, at least until I can make other arrangements."

"Aunt Clara..."

"I know Samantha, I know.  But I couldn't leave him with the wand users, feel his magic.  He's one of us, and just imagine the havoc he would cause among the mortals."

Samantha's eyes widened as she realized her aunt was right.  She could practically feel the magic roiling inside the boy… real magic and something else.

"If we leave him with the wand users, they will stunt his development, if not kill him outright.  Please Samantha?  You're the only one in the family with young children right now, otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

Samantha sighed.  How was she going to explain this to Darrin?

---oooOOOooo---

Albus Dumbledore was in a quandary.

Where was Harry Potter?

There was no evidence that anyone had left the Potter cottage via any form of magical transportation, and whatever had happened in the nursery had destroyed the cottage to the point that it had taken Hagrid's strength to gain access.

So surely the boy hadn't somehow walked away.

Where was he?  There were faint echoes of the boy's magic in the remnants of the cottage, Lily had been found in the wreckage of the nursery, as had Voldemort, so surely Harry had been there when his mother died.

So, where was he?

Dumbledore had been stretched thin over the last month, with the apparent destruction of the Potter family, dealing with the Sirius Black affair, and the attack on Longbottom Lodge.

It turned out that 'everyone knew' that Sirius Black had been the Potter's Secret Keeper, which was, of course, a patent lie.  No one could possibly 'know' such a thing, if Black had actually been the Secret Keeper, that bit of knowledge itself would be tied to the secret and buried deep within the man's body.

Since 'everyone knew', obviously he wasn't.  The Fidelius itself was badly fractured.  The remains of the cottage were clearly visible to anyone who looked, but the knowledge of to whom the cottage had belonged to and who had been living there was still hidden.  This showed that the Secret Keeper still lived. 

There were those among law enforcement who wanted to lock Black up in Azkaban and throw away the keys after witnesses reported him brawling with Peter Pettigrew in the middle of a London street in an event that left more than a dozen Muggles dead.  Barty Crouch in particular had been vocal in eschewing due process. 

At least he had been until the debacle at Longbottom Lodge.  Once the Potter's hiding place had been pierced, Frank and Alice Longbottom had bundled young Neville up and fled to family properties in Norway.  Frank's mother Augusta had refused, saying that she would never abandon her home.

That very night Longbottom Lodge was attacked by a band of desperate Death Eaters looking to either avenge or find their master.  Augusta Longbottom had been murdered, but not before the formidable witch had crippled Bellatrix Lestrange by burning her wand arm off and killed a masked Death Eater before the others took her down.

After it was revealed that the dead Death Eater was Barty Crouch Junior, Barty the elder lost his position in short order.

Normally Dumbledore would have recused himself from having any dealings with how Magical Law Enforcement did its job and would have allowed them to deal with Black as they saw fit.  But the obvious Child of Prophecy was missing.  If Black actually was innocent, then he could provide some much needed resources to be used to find the boy.

There were protests in the Wizengamot that a sufficiently disciplined mind could fight off the effects of Veritaserum, so the Unspeakables were called in.  Prior to his dosing with the Potion of Truth, Black was first given a heavy dose of a Muggle muscle relaxant to put him into a euphoric state.

Enough of the Fidelius remained that Black couldn't tell them the name of the Secret Keeper, but he could confirm that he himself was not the Keeper.  He could also tell the court that Remus Lupin also wasn’t the Secret Keeper.  Black was utterly unable to speak of Peter Pettigrew in any way.

That was evidence enough.  While Black was under the influence, Albus was able to finally confirm something else about Sirius Black.  Black most certainly was the one who put the easily traced monitoring charms on the mirrors in the Hufflepuff 7th year Girls showers and hid the receiving mirror in the Headmaster's office during the boys 6th year.

For that, Black would pay.  But later in a humorous manner of Albus' choosing.  For now, they needed to find Harry Potter.

Black was marshaling what resources he could, which were currently limited, but with the recent death of his younger brother Regulus, Black was being reinstated as his father's heir, and soon there would be more.

But Albus wasn't sure they had the time.  The Headmaster was certain that Voldemort was far from dead, Harry Potter would be needed, probably sooner rather than later.  The boy had to be found.  It was with this in mind that Albus approached the International Confederation of Wizards to put forth an international search order for the boy.

Magical Britain needed Harry Potter to be found.

---oooOOOooo---

"Alright Tabitha, settle down," Darrin Stevens said as the family sat at the kitchen table for breakfast.

"Daddy," his pretty five year old whined, bouncing in her seat, "We're going to school!"

"Well, we're going to register you sweet-heart," Samantha explained from where she was feeding Adam.  "School doesn't actually start for another two weeks."

"Well, I think we all know Tabitha is excited about starting school, what about you Harry?"

Harry looked up from his bowl of cereal.  "I can't wait to go Dad.  Jason says that it's mostly fun, but the work is hard sometimes."

Harry had been with them for six months when he started calling Darrin 'Dad'.  That, more than anything else, had crystallized the affection that Darrin felt for the boy who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

"Good, we'll set aside some time each night to help you both with the hard stuff," Darrin said reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair.  "Now, both of you, what is the first rule?"

"No magic in front of anyone, ever." the pair chorused.

"Good," he nodded.  "Registration is at 9 Sam?"

"Yes.  We're going to be there early to avoid the rush," his wife responded.

Darrin lifted his cup of coffee and slurped noisily amusing his two elder children to no end and earning himself a glare from his wife.  "I wish I could go along, but I've got a train to catch.  Work, work, work."

"Oh, yes," Samantha said after she received her good bye kiss.  "Off to the salt mines with you!"

"Now then," she continued after Darrin had left the room, "I need to get Adam cleaned up from his breakfast.  Do you two think you can stay presentable until I'm finished?"

"Yes Mom." the pair said in unison. 

Samantha's lips twitched into a small smile.  She was positive that they practiced doing that.

---oooOOOooo---

Corina Jefferson had never really thought that being an agent for the US Department of Magic would end up being such a boring job.  For some reason the young woman, who had been third in her class at Salem, had thought that she might be out, wand in hand, defending her nation from magical threats.

That belief had lasted until the second hour of her first day on the job, when she had been disabused of that idea.  Fighting Darks and Invaders was the purview of Investigators who worked for the Magic division of the FBI and for special combat units assigned to each of the armed forces. 

No, excitement was for someone else.  Her job was to keep the bureaucracy running.  Every day she would wade through reams of paper and research sometimes isolating an obscure fact that aided in some unknown function, but most days it seemed that her efforts were pointless.

She arrived at her desk and turned on the new computer she had been given to assist in her research, then she left for the break room to get a cup of coffee while the damned machine finished starting up.  Once she returned to her desk after a nice chat with some coworkers she logged into her account on the network and started her reprogrammed searches.

It wasn't until the machine beeped at her, startling Corina to the point where she almost spilled her coffee that she realized she had gotten her very first hit from the machine.  It had identified a designated name in a listing from somewhere.

Corina fought against her excitement.  It was probably a false positive; they usually were...  but maybe...

Harry James Stevens had enrolled at Abigail Adams Elementary in Westport Conneticutt as a new Kindergartener...  Stevens?

Corina searched her records.  No one named 'Stevens' was on any of the search lists.  She dug deeper in the computer's report.  Birth Name Potter...  That rang a bell somewhere in the back of her mind.  Harry James Potter.

Yes, a positive hit.  Possible kidnap victim.  Immediate Verification Investigation authorized.  Expedited Reporting to the International was required.  Albus Dumbledore himself was to be immediately notified when Harry James Potter was found.

Corina blinked.  Albus Dumbledore?  This one was big.  She quickly generated her report and personally walked it up two floors to her supervisor whose eyes bugged out when he read it.  The man thanked her for her diligence, and rolled the report up, placing it in one of the carriers for the Lamson tubes and sent Corina's report off to be dealt with.

Corina returned to her desk feeling a bit more pleased with her lot in life.  Her job might not be adventurous, but she might have just saved a kidnap victim.

---oooOOOooo---

Jason Thomas Kincaid sat back in his Government Dodge, waiting for his partner to return and tried his best to look inconspicuous.  Not an easy task for someone who was six foot six inches tall and weighed in at 280 pounds. 

Kincaid had been recruited as an Agent by the Magical Division of the FBI when he had been attending Cal Tech after finishing first in his class at the Seattle Academy of Magic.  The training at Quantico had been the most challenging of his life, and he had loved it.

Now, twenty years later and the senior field agent in the state, he still loved his job, and more importantly this case could quite possibly the one of the more important of his career.  He shared the FBI's institutional hatred for kidnapping and kidnappers.  If this kid actually was the Harry Potter that Dumbledore was looking for, Kincaid would take deep satisfaction in making sure that those responsible to stealing the boy paid a very heavy price.

The woman with the boy seemed at very least oblivious to the surveillance she was under.  He checked his notes on her. 

Samantha Stevens.  Housewife.  Those were rare these days.  Thirty Two according to her driver’s license, though those were sometimes fudged a bit.  Probably not this time, she was a handsome woman.  No tickets, no record of working outside of neighborhood charities.  They hadn't found any record of her attending college... or high school for that matter Kincaid suddenly realized.  That was odd.

Darrin Stevens, her husband.  Thirty three.  Account Executive at McMann and Tate Advertising.  Had been there since he graduated from New York City College with a bachelors in Communications.  Played golf.  No evidence that the family was living beyond its means, no out of character vacations, a comfortable but not too expensive home.  The two older children attended public school. 

The family consisted of the parents and three children.  Young Harry and two of their own.  Tabitha, five years old, and Adam, 16 months.  He had verified the hospital records for both of the Stevens children’s births.

Harry James Stevens, born Potter.  Adopted by the Stevens family according to state records on January 23rd 1982.  The paperwork filed with the state was impeccable.  Each page appeared to be brand new, and oddly filled out by hand in an odd calligraphy style rather than typed.

The newness of the paperwork had raised some red flags for Kincaid until he remembered that the file cabinet he had retrieved it from hadn't been touched in quite a while if the layer of dust was any reference.  Maybe it was the quality of the paper...

The boy's parents were listed as deceased, which they were if he was the Harry Potter they were looking for, and evidently Samantha Stevens was a distant cousin to the boy.

The passenger door opened and Leslie Lewis slid into the car.

"Well?" Kincaid asked.

"The boy's magical alright.  Amazingly so.  He pegged the meter of scope." she said while she pulled out her own notes and began making notations.  "Weird readings though."

"You have to be careful on the lower settings Rookie.  If you break that damned thing the Supply weenies will have it taken out of your pay."

"It was on the adult settings.  I always start high and shift lower.   He indexed higher than I do." she huffed.

"At five?" Kincaid asked incredulously, sure that she had somehow fouled up the reading.  From a manila envelope on the seat between them he pulled a wizarding photo of a couple at their wedding.  "Well, he looks like James Potter to me.  You were closer, what do you think?"

"He has Potter's hair," Lewis agreed.  "But up close you can see that under the baby fat, he has Lily Potter's eyes and cheek bones."

"Did you get a reading off the woman?"

"Yeah," Lewis nodded.  "Complete flat line.  No detection of anything at all.  I've never seen anyone with so little magic."

"Well, I'm satisfied." Kincaid said as he watched Samantha Stevens leaving the park, crossing the street while pushing the stroller containing her youngest with a happy five year old on either side.  "The boy is Harry Potter.   Time to call the boss for instructions."

---oooOOOooo---

Samantha opened the door to find a man and a woman, both dressed in suits on her doorstep.  She offered them her best smile.  "Can I help you?"

"Samantha Stevens?" The taller of the two asked.

"Yes," she answered wondering just what was going on, but she maintained the smile.

"This is Special Agent Lewis, and I'm Special Agent Kincaid," he said offering her his ID.  "We're from the FBI.  We would like to speak with you and your husband."

Samantha regarded the offered ID.  "I had no idea that the FBI even had a magical division.  Would you like to come in?"

The agents exchanged a look.  Their IDs were charmed so that only a magic user could see what department within the FBI they worked for... but this woman had tested out as being a magically null.  That was very... odd.    They followed the young woman into her home and took the offered seats in the home's living room.

"Darrin?" the blond called.  "Could you come in here please?"

Darrin Stevens entered the room, wiping his hands on a dish cloth.  "Who was at the door Sam?" he asked before spotting their visitors.

"A pair of special agents from the FBI," Samantha said.  "If they weren't magical, I would be asking what you and Larry have been up to.  So," she asked after Darrin was seated.  "What can we do for the FBI?"

"We're here about Harry Potter," Kincaid answered.

Tabitha led Harry who was carrying Adam into the living room from the kitchen.  "Adam finished his carrots," Harry called as he entered.  Upon spotting the visitors the children smiled and made their way quietly to a small table set up for them in the corner of the room.

"Harry Stevens," Samantha corrected.  "My husband and I adopted Harry through the Witches Council three years ago."

Kincaid paled.  "The Witches Council?" he asked weakly.

"Yes.  What could you possibly want with Harry?  He's only five."

"Mrs. Stevens," Lewis said once she noticed that her partner was suddenly speechless, though not really understanding why.  "Harry Potter has been reported missing from England since the night his parents were murdered." 

Two small heads came up immediately as those words left the agent's mouth.  She never noticed the sudden attention she was getting from the children and continued on.  "He is suspected to be a victim of kidnapping.  Our instructions are to take the boy into protective custody until the investigation is concluded."

"Excuse me?" Samantha asked in the coldest tone either agent had ever heard.  "You think you're going to take our son from us?"

"Mrs. Stevens, please, don't make this any harder than it has to be, " the other agent continued, ignoring her partner while drawing her wand.  "There is a charge of kidnapping here.  Of course we are going to take him. How could we do anything else?"

"Kids," Darrin said.  "Upstairs now."

Tabitha looked like she was going to argue.  "Now." Darrin repeated in a tone of voice that would brook no argument.  Harry reached out and put his hand on his younger brother and the pair vanished without a sound.  Tabitha looked angry at being dismissed.

"Nobody is taking Harry from us!" she said before she vanished as well.

Leslie Lewis goggled at the now empty table.  "Silent Apparation?  By children?  But that's..."

"Lewis..." Kincaid hissed, finally regaining his voice, “shut up!"

A puff of billowing smoke appeared behind Samantha, Lewis tried to raise her wand and was utterly shocked when she found she couldn't move.

"Samantha?  Is there something wrong?" Endora asked as she materialized.  "I felt your anger all the way in Paris."

"These FBI agents are of the impression that they are going to take Harry away from us, Mother," Samantha said, while attempting to rein in her anger.  Her mother's presence seemed to calm her.

"Oh?" Endora smiled.  "Do you have plans for the bodies afterwards?  Dr. Bombay is always on the lookout for potions ingredients."

"There won't be any bodies, Mother."  She levitated the two agents to a standing position with a nose twitch.  "Unless, of course, they are foolish enough to ever come back.  Do I make myself clear?"

Kincaid nodded violently while Lewis struggled against the paralysis that held her frozen in place.

"Let me be clear, Harry was not kidnapped.  He is family.  From my side of the family in fact.  You know who we are, don't you Agent Kincaid?"

Again Kincaid nodded violently.  "The Elder Sect." he whispered.

"Very good.  Make sure you tell your supervisors, so that they don't do something foolish like send someone else to annoy me.  Tell them that Harry Stevens is with his family, with people who share his blood.  There may be people more closely related, but those people aren't capable of teaching him to deal with the magic he had access to without doing major damage.  We have always had a policy of leaving you Wand Users to your own lives.  Don’t make the mistake of interfering in ours."

Again her nose twitched and the two FBI agents disappeared.

---oooOOOooo---

Kincaid and Lewis found themselves back in their car parked at the curb in front of the Stevens home.

"What the hell just happened?" Lewis breathed.

"The blond is part of the Elder Sect, and so is the Redhead she called mother," Kincaid said as he tried to stop his hands from shaking by gripping the steering wheel firmly.

"The Elder Sect?  What the hell is that?" Lewis asked, still teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"The first Magic users.  Their ability to use magic is as far beyond ours as ours is beyond Muggles.  They don't use wands or incantations or much of anything beyond a gesture of some kind.  The Stevens woman twitched her nose, that must be her signature gesture," he swallowed, and then fished the keys from his jacket pocket and started the car.  "We've got to get to Headquarters and report this.

---oooOOOooo---

"Endora, I don't believe I'm saying this," Darrin said with a smile, "but I'm so happy to see you, I could have kissed you."

"Oh really?" Endora asked, a single sculpted eyebrow rising toward her hairline.  "Please Durwood, do fight the urge."

"Oh, don't worry, that particular urge passed as soon as you calmed Sam down to the point where she wasn't going to murder those FBI agents in front of me," the mortal man rose from his chair.  "Someone is going to have to explain this 'Wand User' stuff to me, but for now I'm going upstairs to make sure the kids are ok.  Thank you again Endora."

The older witch waited until her daughter's husband had vanished up the stairs.  "Are you alright Samantha?" she cocked her head to the side.  "I don't believe I've ever felt you become quite that angry."

"No one ever tried to take one of my children before," Samantha said quietly.  "Darrin was joking with you, but he was more right than he knew, I have never been closer to doing someone physical harm."

"That is motherhood," Endora pointed out.  "Harry's birth mother died to protect him, and she didn't have a significant fraction of your power.  The Wand Users aren't capable of taking Harry away from you, none of them are.  If his attacker ever comes back from whatever Clara did to him, I strongly suspect that he would regret a second attempt."

Samantha blushed at her mother's compliment.

---oooOOOooo---

"Are they going to take Harry away?"

"Tabitha," Darrin said as he pulled his daughter up onto his lap.  "Harry isn't going anywhere."

"But you'll get into trouble Dad!" Harry said plaintively.  "I should go so that everyone else will be ok."

"We won't get into trouble Harry; no one has done anything wrong."  Darrin tried to think of a way of explaining so that the children could understand.  The major problem was that he didn't really understand exactly what was going on himself.  "We're a family, all five of us.  We always will be."

"Promise?" Harry asked.

"Promise." Darrin assured him.

---oooOOOooo---

Jason Kincaid sat nervously outside the Director's office.  His supervisor had listened to the story that Kincaid and Lewis had told, and then kicked the report upstairs.  The next thing the Agent knew he was told to report to the district office in New York City, and upon their arrival at the apparation point in the Federal Building, he and Lewis were immediately directed to continue on to Washington to speak the the Director of Magical Investigations.

This couldn't possibly be good.

Leslie Lewis was in the middle of convincing herself that nothing had happened and that everything she had experienced at the Stevens home was some sort of hallucination.  Kincaid tried not to think about what might happen if the Director also took on that view. 

Why didn't more people know their history?  And why didn't they have a way of detecting the Elder Sect to prevent the two societies from coming into contact?

Eli Estes, the Director of Magical Investigations appeared at his door.  "Inside," he said with a nod to his two agents before disappearing back into his office.

Like most offices in the Magical Investigations Department, Estes' was much larger inside than out.  By the time the two agents entered the office, Estes was back at his desk.  "Close the door and sit down," he instructed while looking over a familiar looking folder.

After Kincaid and Lewis sat down Estes looked up from their report.  "I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around the idea of a member of the Elder Sect living in the suburbs of Westport Connecticut and raising a family, with the Brit's missing Magical Savior as an adopted son no less."

"I know sir," Kincaid agreed, "but the woman scanned as a magical Null, but was still capable of seeing that our IDs were shrouded in magic.  She paralyzed Lewis with a gesture and then levitated both of us before forcing something like apparation on us to send us away."

"With no wand?" Estes asked.

Before the senior agent could answer, both his and Lewis' chairs were shoved away from each other as a larger more opulent chair suddenly appeared in the space they had just cleared.  Sitting in this new chair was the red haired woman from the Steven's home.

"Of course there was no wand," she said dismissively.  "My daughter quite clearly identified herself as a member of the Elder Sect."

Estes sat back in his chair in shock that this woman had somehow pierced all of the protective wards designed to keep unwanted visitors out.  The briefing he had gotten on the Elder Sect had been superficial at best, so he decided to carry on as best he could.

"We apologize for the intrusion into your daughter's home, but we are investigating a reported kidnapping.  I am Eli Estes, the Director of Magical Investigations for the FBI, and you are?"

"I am Endora of the Elder Sect, and there was no kidnapping," the woman said in the manner of someone unused to being questioned.  "Young Harry's birth parents were killed by a minor magician seeking immortality, and this 'Voldemort' was punished for his presumption by my sister, Clara who is the boy's Grandmother.  Clara then brought the boy to my daughter, her niece and Harry's cousin, to care for him.  Samantha and her mortal husband adopted the boy and are raising him as their own."

"I see," Estes said, while not really believing any of this was happening.  "Grandmother you said?  The British say that all of his grandparents are dead."

"I may have left out a few greats in calling Clara his grandmother.  A thousand years’ worth or so," Endora said with a small smile.

The three Wand Users in the room blinked at the admission of such a lifespan.

"We will of course inform the International of your family's desire to be left alone," Estes said warily.  "However the Brits have a history of ignoring the rest of the world, and they have a fair amount of political capital tied up in finding the Potter boy."

"The British were the source of the last conflict between our two societies," Endora sighed.  "Hopefully that doesn't happen again."

---oooOOOooo---

"Dumbledore!"

Albus looked up from the briefing papers he was reviewing prior to the meeting he was chairing for the International Confederation of Wizards to find the Yank Secretary of Magic striding toward him with a look of fury on the man's face.  While angry voices were far from unusual at these meetings, it was fairly unusual to have anyone direct their anger at the Supreme Mugwump.

"What the hell are you playing at Dumbledore?"

"I'm sure I don't know to what you are referring Donald," Albus said pleasantly.

"Your international warrant for Harry Potter," the American said slapping a file folder in front of the Supreme Mugwump.  "We found him.  You might have mentioned that he was with members of the Elder Sect."

"What?"

"The. Elder. Fucking. Sect!" Donald Murphy said, emphasizing each word so as to make his point.  "When the Potter boy showed up on in our searches when he enrolled in school, we sent a pair of agents to investigate.  We found your boy, absurdly powerful for a five year old just as you said he would be.  Then my agents approached the family with your kidnapping charge."

"Which wasn't taken well?"
 

Murphy gave the Chief Mugwump a disbelieving look.  "The Agent in charge has been in the field for twenty years Dumbledore, and has seen things that would probably curl even your hair.  He came from the meeting with that family terrified at the power they casually throw around.  They made one thing crystal clear, they want no contact with us and Harry Potter is not to be approached."  Murphy reached out and tapped the file folder he had place in front of Dumbledore earlier.  "All the information we have on the boy is right here.  I'm informing all of my counterparts’ world wide of the situation.  Don't ask for any more help on this topic unless you really want to be laughed at."

Murphy stepped back from the table and fixed Dumbledore with an appraising look.  "When you ignore this family's demand that we leave them alone, and we both know that you will, please, for the sake of international cooperation, try and get them to kill you in a manner that doesn't leave a body that I will have to investigate.  I'd really appreciate that."

Dumbledore sat and watched Murphy stride away before he opened the file folder.  Now that Potter had been found, what was he going to do about it?

---oooOOOooo---

Harry concentrated on keeping the ball suspended in the air in front of his eyes.

"That's very good Harry," Samantha said a smile curling her lips.  "I believe you've broken your old record."

"Thanks Mom," he said, breaking her heart just a little bit.  Harry had returned from his first week in Kindergarten and announced that only babies call their mother's 'Mommy'.  "But why are we doing this?  You and Auntie Endora don't do this kind of stuff."

"You need to learn to walk before you can run Harry," Samantha answered.  "Ok, now that you can keep your ball floating, I want you to try and get it to stay there without you having to focus on it.  Look at the magic and see if you can figure out how you can do that."

Harry looked past the physical world as he had been taught to be able to see the magic holding the ball.  There had to be some way of getting the ball to hang in the air without his needing to stay focused on it.  As he usually did when trying to do things with magic, he visualized normal items and used their images in his mind to make his magic do what he wanted it to do.  In this case he imagined a push pin like they used at school to attach papers to the corkboard.

The boy's concentration was rewarded with an ethereal push pin that hung in the air before his eyes.  His astral aspect took hold of the nap of the magic holding the very real ball suspended in midair in the real world and with concentration he used the pin to anchor the ball.

Satisfied with his performance, Harry pulled his senses back into the here and now, and found that Tabitha had also managed to suspend her doll in midair.  She gave him a happy grin and waggled her eyebrows at him.

"Very good both of you," Samantha enthused.

"That was easy," Tabitha said with satisfaction.

"After I figured out what I was doing wrong," Harry agreed.  "It really was.

"Now for something a little different.  Tabitha, I want you to lower Harry's ball to the floor.  Harry, you do the same with Tabitha's doll."

Harry nodded, and pushed his senses to interact with the magic.  His astral aspect reached for the doll and his hand passed right through it.  He tried again with similar results.  Nothing he could think of could affect the doll in any way.

What was going on?

Harry returned his attention to the here and now, and found Tabitha to be as confused as he was.

"I couldn't touch Harry's ball!" Tabitha said.

"And Harry couldn't touch your doll, could you Harry?"

"No, what did we do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong Harry, nor did you Tabitha.  When you locked your toys into a magical state, you isolated them from magic," Samantha said.  "Whenever we do magic, we put a little bit of ourselves into the act, no matter if it's something as simple as levitating a ball or as complex as changing one thing into another.  Once one of you do something, no other Witch or Warlock can change what you've done.  Only Harry can unlink his ball from that spot, and only Tabitha can lower her doll."

"Wow!" Tabitha said, while Harry nodded in agreement.

Suddenly there was a burst of flame and a beautiful gold and red bird appeared in the Steven's family room.

Samantha's eyebrows lifted in surprise.  "Well, hello there, we don't often get visits from a phoenix.  I'm Samantha, this is Harry and Tabitha.  Are you looking for anyone in particular?"

The phoenix trilled a song that took the children's breath away.  Samantha laughed, and reached out to stroke the phoenix's neck.  "Well, that's good to know.  You found the right house then.  You've brought the message you mentioned?"

The firebird lifted its left wing and ducked its head underneath, pulling a roll of parchment from... somewhere before turning to present it to the young witch.

"Thank you," Samantha said before unrolling the scroll and beginning to read as the children crowded around the immortal firebird to stroke its feathers and ask it questions about its life.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mrs. Stevens,

I do hope that the appearance of my Phoenix Companion Fawkes did not come as too much of a shock.  He is a mischievous old bird, with a biting sense of humor.  That said he jumped at the opportunity to be the one to visit you, as young Harry's birth mother was one of his favorite students during her time with us.

It has come to my attention that the young man who was born Harry Potter has been adopted into your family, and that you have had an unfortunate confrontation with the American authorities over my request that they be on the lookout for him.  It was never my intention to alarm anyone, it was simply to locate young Harry and ensure that he was in fact safe and cared for.

The circumstances surrounding the death of his birth parents did bring a certain level of anxiety to that concern as you might well guess.

With your permission, I would like to secure an interview with you to discuss Harry's inheritance and his future in his birth parent's society.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore,

Headmaster

Samantha's brow furrowed.  Did she want Harry to have anything to do with the Wand Users and their form of magic?  She knew that Harry had that kind of magic within him, alongside his true magic.

Still, would it be right to deny the boy she loved as if he was of her body his heritage?  Truly, he was of both worlds, but what would that bring?

"Did you know that the man Dumbledore thinks that you are his companion?" She asked the firebird.  "Or that he thinks you're male?"

The Phoenix offered the avian equivalent of a shrug with an expression that asked 'What can you do?'

"You can return to Dumbledore and let him know I'm considering his request."

The bird nodded and trilled another song.

A smile quirked at the corners of Samantha's mouth.  "That's true.  Good journey to you."

The Phoenix disappeared in a flash of flame.

"Now then you two," Samantha said to her children, "that's enough goofing off with the visitor, back to work."

---oooOOOooo---

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