Wanda looked at the book she knew very well, a slight fear creeping through her body.
If that book was here… did it mean this world was connected to her previous one?
Luckily, Liz said something that eased her worries.
She had noticed Wanda's frightened gaze fixed on the red book, and spoke:
"This book was taken from a witch a long time ago, while she was investigating some sort of portal. She didn't know where it led, but it had letters and words no witch or wizard in this world could understand. That's why it was auctioned off years ago, and an old master bought it… though he just left it there," Liz explained.
Wanda looked at her, then turned back to the book, her mind on that portal magic.
It sounded like the kind Pandora had given her in exchange for teaching her telekinesis.
She had said that her grandmother had created it long ago, but they'd never managed to use it properlyso it ended up just gathering dust.
Maybe… one of those experiments connected to a parallel world before Wanda herself destroyed the Darkhold across several realities.
After that, Liz wanted to show them the workshops, so the three of them turned around.
As they walked away, the Darkhold behind them caught fire with red flamesburning nothing else around it.
Wanda didn't want to be tempted again.
She had already destroyed it herself.
This world cannot be put in danger… not while Harry lives in it.
When they arrived at the workshops, they saw multiple blueprints pinned to the walls, as well as enchanted tools clearly meant for crafting and recording.
"Actually, the Potter family specializes more in potions. They just try to follow alchemy since it ties into potions… and to keep the Peverell legacy alive. It's not just about the invisibility cloak," Liz explained with conviction.
"Maybe I can build a better robot here to fight Hermione," Harry said with a cheerful smile.
Wanda smiled softly at how simple her son's plan wasand how little he currently understood the value of this place.
After touring the entire mansion, Harry was a bit worn out.
After all, he'd had an adventure just to find it, and then explored every single roomwhich were far too many for him to keep track of.
He was getting a little sleepy.
When they passed through the potion and alchemy workshop section, Wanda finally understood why the mansion was kept hidden.
Just a handful of the recipes there could incite greed and war: the Philosopher's Stone, the Elixir of Immortality, the Drop of Resurrection… all carried dangerous names.
"You must be tired. Feel free to choose any room you'd like. This is your home now," Fleamont said warmly.
"No, it's okay. We'll come back tomorrow, maybe," Wanda replied gently.
"Ah, I see. Well, that's fine. We'll wait to talk more then," Euphemia said calmly.
"See that book beside the fireplace?" said Fleamont.
"Write your name and Harry's in it, along with the names of anyone else you'd like to allow. With that, you'll be able to use the Floo Network to enter any time," he added.
Wanda looked at the book with interest and wrote their names inside.
"See you later. Please come back soon," Euphemia said, a bit saddened to see them go so soon.
"Sure," Harry murmured, barely keeping his eyes open in Wanda's arms.
Harry was six years old and a little heavy… but only for a normal person.
Wanda was anything but normal.
So she stepped into the fireplace, which flared with green flames, and they vanished.
Just then, Gris appeared with the invisibility cloak.
"Sir, I brought the cloak," said Gris, looking around for Harrybut he was already gone.
"He went home," said Fleamont, turning his gaze to the cloak with a solemn expression.
"Who had it?" he asked.
"That Mr. Dumbledore. It was at Hogwarts. The elves there tried to throw me out and stop me from taking it, so it took me a bit longer than usual after defeating them all," said Gris proudly.
"Dumbledore? That man again," Fleamont muttered, frowning.
"What is it, dear?" asked Euphemia.
"When we found out James and Lily were dead, but Harry survived, I thought they used the cloak to hide. But if that were the case, the cloak would've never gone far from Harry. Which means they never used it. Or rather… they didn't have it when they needed it," Fleamont said seriously.
"We both know this cloak can hide two adults and a baby from any wizard. So… why did Dumbledore have it, and not them, to protect themselves?" he asked.
Euphemia frowned as well.
"Sir," said Gris, staring at the cloak intently.
"It seems to have a tracking spell on it," he added quickly.
"Destroy it," Fleamont ordered.
Gris snapped his fingers, and every enchantment on the cloak vanished.
"Copy the tracking spell and put it on a flying insect," Fleamont added.
Gris made a regretful face at the word "insect."
"Yes, sir," he replied anyway, and vanished with a snap.
"This is getting more suspicious by the minute," Fleamont muttered.
"I told James not to get involved in that stupid war. It was nothing more than a chess match between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The only ones who never got hurt… the only ones who kept falling were their followers and soldiers," Fleamont added with simmering anger.
"And now their son has to be raised by someone else… instead of his own father."
"It's okay. Harry is being raised properly. And that girl, Wanda, she seems like a loving mother," said Euphemia.
"I know. I can't deny thatnot when Harry is so happy and such a good boy. But still… because of a foolish war, he lost his parents. If he hadn't been lucky, he could've ended up in any house, mistreated and unloved," Fleamont said with frustration.
"It's okay… that didn't happen, and it never will," said Euphemia, though her heart ached just imagining it.
Unfortunately, both of them had died of dragon pox long before Harry was born.
They hadn't even truly lived to see their son's wedding.
…
Wanda and Harry returned the next day, as Harry was excited to continue hearing the story of the mansion. Because of that, Wanda asked for time off from work to go with him.
Hermione joined them at Harry's insistence, and when she heard there was a legendary library, she agreed without hesitation.
Wanda had already written Hermione's name in the book, knowing she'd come eventually, so she passed through the Floo Network without any issues.
"Well, who is this beautiful young lady?" said Euphemia, looking at Hermione standing beside Harry.
"This is Hermione. She's Mom's student and my best friend," said Harry with a smile.
"Oh, I see. Then welcome, Hermione," said Euphemia kindly.
"Thank you," replied Hermione respectfully.
"Come on, Hermione! I'll show you the library," said Harry before running off with her.
As Wanda was about to follow them, Euphemia stopped her.
"Wait, Wanda. We'd like to ask you a few questions," she said in a soft voice.
"Of course," replied Wanda calmly.
...
"Are you telling the truth?" asked Fleamont, his eyes locked on Wanda with a serious expression.
"Yes," said Wanda with equal seriousness.
"That bastard!" shouted Fleamont, slamming a small table in the portrait. If he could, he would've leapt out of the painting to personally confront the fools who made his grandson suffer.
They were basically asking her about Harry's life. They believed Wanda had raised him from the beginning, but Wanda explained everything in detaileven that she wasn't from this world. That, at first, Harry meant nothing to her… that she didn't even care.
The Potters were stunned. But upon learning how Wanda had found and saved Harry from his cruel relatives, all their attention and fury shifted to that, ignoring everything else.
"Thank you so much," said Euphemia seriously as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"It's okay. Lily saved me. And Harry did too," said Wanda with a warm smile.
"It doesn't matter whether you have Lily Evans's blood in your veins or not. From this moment on, you are part of the Potter family, as Harry's mother. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," declared Fleamont with pride and conviction.
"Of course," replied Wanda with a sincere smile.
After that, Harry came back with Hermione, carrying several books, and started asking his grandparents about his parents. The portraits, full of patience, began sharing silly stories about James from his childhood.
"That brat was a disaster since he was little. He was a troublemaker," said Fleamont, earning a smack on the shoulder from his wife.
"What? Even if I'm his father, I have to admit it: he was a troublemaker," he repeated, his pride thinly disguised as reproach.
Euphemia shook her head, but she couldn't deny it. Maybe being an only child, they spoiled him too much. He was arrogant and vain. Even they had trouble correcting him back then.
"Good thing he was a kind boy. Otherwise, I would've disinherited him. That's one of the reasons he took so long to learn about this mansion. But honestly, I regret not telling him from the start. Thankfully, he met your mother. She grounded him well and made him into a good person," Fleamont said with a nostalgic smile.
"She was lovely. Though a bit competitive and very serious about her studies and work," said Euphemia, smiling at the memories.
"James was lucky to meet someone like her," commented Fleamont.
"Absolutely," added Euphemia, still smiling.
"By the way, there's something that's still bothering me," Fleamont said, frowning.
"Oh? What is it?" asked Harry, curious.
"Where the hell did that rascal Sirius go? We didn't hear he died, so we always assumed that if James had a son, Sirius would've been the first to ask to be his godfatherand the one to take care of him," said Fleamont, clearly irritated.
"I've wondered the same. It's strange that Sirius isn't around to care for Harry after James passed. Even if Dumbledore didn't want Harry involved with the magical world, Sirius wouldn't have listened. He would've stayed glued to him, never letting him out of his sight," said Euphemia with concern.
"Who's Sirius?" asked Harry, confused.
"You don't know who he is?" asked Euphemia and Fleamont at the same time, visibly shocked.