The Order of the Phoenix meeting had concluded.
Adrian had officially joined Dumbledore's camp, whether he'd fully intended to or not.
However, much to his relief and satisfaction, his peaceful summer life could still continue largely uninterrupted—Dumbledore hadn't assigned him any specific tasks or missions yet, or do any of the dangerous field work others were undertaking.
Just as he was about to leave Grimmauld Place that evening, already mentally planning his return journey and thinking about what awaited him at the shop, Dumbledore had quietly called out to Adrian and discreetly handed him a small two-way mirror.
"What is this...?"
Adrian examined the seemingly ordinary two-way mirror in his hand with careful scrutiny, turning it over to inspect both sides, somewhat puzzled by the unexpected gift.
"Please take good care of it, Adrian," Dumbledore instructed softly, his voice dropping so their conversation wouldn't carry to others still saying their goodbyes nearby.
His expression was serious, almost grave. "There may be important matters requiring immediate contact in the future, situations where every second counts. You know—owl post is always somewhat slow and not entirely secure these days."
"Oh, all right," Adrian agreed after a moment's consideration.
Though Dumbledore's behavior seemed a bit strange and slightly paranoid, though Adrian couldn't immediately think of what emergency would require such instant communication, he accepted the two-way mirror anyway and slipped it carefully into his robe pocket.
It posed no particular harm to him, after all, and might prove useful.
Better to have it and not need it than the reverse.
In the blink of an eye, a full month had passed since that Order meeting.
Time had reached mid-August, the heart of summer when the heat was most oppressive and the days stretched longest. There was now only half a month remaining until Hogwarts would reopen its doors for another school year, until students would flood back through Platform 9¾ with their trunks and owls and excitement.
That day, in Adrian's shop in Little Whinging.
"Incendio!"
Accompanied by a clear, confident incantation, bright orange-red flames burst forth from the tip of Harry's wand.
The flames immediately began continuously condensing and reshaping, gradually sketching out the distinct outline of a giant figure in the air before them.
In a few moments, a giant humanoid figure made completely of living fire stood impressively in the center of the shop's main room.
Strangely, the twirling flames didn't emit the slightest sensation of heat beyond their own form.
The intense high temperature that should have been radiating out, that should have made the room unbearably hot, was perfectly contained within the giant through force of will and control—even the nearest parchment scroll lying on a nearby shelf hadn't curled or scorched in the slightest despite the closeness to what should have been searing heat.
Seeing the formation and stability of his creation, looking satisfied with his work, Harry snapped his fingers. The giant made of fire, then silently dissipated into nothing, as if they'd never been there at all.
"It seems there's no problem now with your magical control or channeling," Adrian said, having watched the entire demonstration with attention.
He carefully examined Harry's right arm, the regenerated one he'd just used to cast the complex spell, checking for any signs of strain or tremor or weakness. His fingers probed gently along the forearm, checking muscle tension.
Finding nothing concerning, he nodded with approval and satisfaction.
"It's recovered extremely well, better than I'd honestly expected at this stage. The spell execution was very smooth with no hesitation or shakiness in the casting, perfect temperature control throughout. You can use magic freely from now on without restriction or concern about reinjury."
Upon hearing this long-awaited announcement, Harry immediately moved his wrist experimentally with relief and excitement. He flexed his fingers, rotated his arm, made a few wand movements.
Everything felt natural, responsive, and just right.
A broad, genuine smile appeared on his face.
"Thank you, Professor."
Not being able to cast spells freely, being limited and restricted and constantly worried about his magical capabilities, had been absolute torture for him over these past weeks.
Now, finally, he could let loose again! He could duel, could practice advanced magic without fear of damaging his new arm!
"Of course, there's one important matter we should discuss," Adrian said, his tone shifting to something more serious as he raised one finger.
He paused, then amended his warning. "Don't use any mag— well, actually, you should have developed your own judgment by now about when magic is appropriate... Just be careful. That godfather of yours has already caused quite a bit of trouble this summer."
Harry immediately grimaced and scratched the back of his head with his left hand in an embarrassed gesture, his smile began fading into something sheepish.
Speaking of which, he also felt Sirius's recent behavior had been rather foolish and reckless, showing terrible judgment that had nearly caused serious problems.
He still remembered vividly when summer vacation had just started, and Sirius had gone to the Dursleys' house to visit him and check on his living conditions.
Somehow, Sirius had managed to provoke Vernon into actually pulling out a shotgun.
Harry could hear Vernon's furious roar even from his bedroom upstairs where he'd been doing summer homework—"Get out of my house right now, you damned lunatic and convicted murderer! I'll blow your head off! I don't care what kind of freak you are!"
Of course, before an experienced and powerful wizard like Sirius Black, a Muggle with a shotgun had absolutely no chance to actually fire the weapon or cause any real harm.
By the time Harry had rushed downstairs frantically, alarmed by the shouting and fearing someone might actually get hurt, he saw that the gun barrel had already been twisted and melted into a completely limp, useless bow shape.
Vernon stood there holding the ruined weapon with an expression of absolute shock and impotent fury.
Unfortunately, Sirius had used his own wand quite openly without any concealment, right there in broad daylight in a Muggle home, ultimately drawing an official investigation from the Ministry of Magic's Improper Use of Magic Office.
They'd received an owl within hours. Then another. Then Aurors had shown up to interview everyone.
The whole affair had been quite unpleasant and stressful for everyone involved, lots of paperwork and lectures.
It had only been finally settled and dismissed after Dumbledore personally intervened with the Ministry, pulled strings, and vouched for the defensive necessity of the magic used.
For the Dursleys, it had been a complete disaster.
However, this did seem exactly like something Sirius would do, it was entirely in his character.
"He even found the whole thing amusing afterward," Harry muttered softly. "Said seeing Vernon standing there holding that limp, bow-shaped gun barrel with that expression of complete shock on his face was worth laughing about for an entire year. He actually laughed himself sick describing it to Remus later."
From this incident and others like it, Harry could clearly glimpse his godfather's character—impulsive beyond reason, rebellious to his core, with utter disdain for rules and social conventions and anything resembling restraint or proper behavior.
Sirius did what he wanted, when he wanted, consequences be damned.
'Well... perhaps Sirius should learn more from Professor Westeros,' Harry thought silently with an internal sigh.
After practicing various spells and techniques for a while longer, pushing his newly recovered arm through increasingly complex castings until he was breathing hard from exertion, Harry finally collapsed back onto the comfortable sofa in the corner of the shop's main hall.
This piece of furniture had become his favorite spot over the summer—this was the place where he felt most at peace, most at home.
Though somewhat physically tired from the intensive practice session, practicing magic had become his daily activity, as regular and necessary as eating.
As long as he could perceive his own tangible progress, as long as he could feel himself getting stronger and more skilled, he would continue to persist in these rigorous training sessions.
He suddenly thought of the Dursleys again with a sinking feeling in his stomach, his contentment was vanishing. He couldn't use magic so freely at the Dursleys' house, couldn't practice, couldn't even take his wand out of his trunk most of the time.
If possible, he really didn't want to go back there at all...
Adrian seemed to see through his thoughts, and reminded him gently, "You should go back soon, Harry. You know exactly why. The blood protection magic on you requires regular renewal through physical presence there."
Harry's face immediately fell as he let out a long, exaggerated sigh of despair.
"Oh—please, Professor, not even one more day here? Just one single day! Please! The Dursleys all went to attend Aunt Marge's birthday party in Hampshire. They won't be home tonight at all—they're staying at a hotel there. Even Dudley won't be there, and you know he's the worst."
His green eyes were full of desperate pleading, the expression was almost funnily exaggerated, exactly like someone Adrian didn't particularly want to remember—someone who'd been equally skilled at using that kind of manipulative look to move people and get his way.
"Oh well, I suppose one night doesn't matter then," Adrian shrugged with feigned reluctance, secretly amused. "Though perhaps you need to actually tidy up your room on the second floor."
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
Harry nearly jumped up enthusiastically from the sofa in his excitement, his face was lighting up with genuine joy. He looked like he'd just won the Quidditch Cup.
To him, genuinely and without any exaggeration, Adrian's place felt more like his real home than the Dursleys' house ever had. More than four Privet Drive with its cupboard under the stairs and locked windows and bars on the door.
This was where he felt welcome, wanted, safe.
Just then, interrupting the comfortable moment, green flames suddenly erupted in the fireplace across the room with a roar and rush of heat. A thin, somewhat ragged figure stepped out of the swirling emerald fire, bringing with it a considerable bout of gray ash that scattered across the hearth rug.
Remus patted the dust off his shabby, patched traveling robes, his face had his usual gentle, tired smile despite the late hour.
"Apologies for the mess," He said automatically.
Next came Nymphadora Tonks, who stumbled awkwardly as she emerged from the flames, her foot was catching on the edge of the fireplace, and nearly fell flat on her face in a spread of limbs.
She was caught just in time by Lupin's quick reflexes and steady hands, preventing an embarrassing crash.
"Thanks, Remus," She muttered, blushing as pink spread across her cheeks to match her hair. "We should have the right place, yes? This is Adrian's shop?"
She straightened her bubblegum-pink hair with self-conscious pats, pushing it back from her face, then began curiously surveying her surroundings with wide eyes that took in every detail.
"Wow, this place is really nice!"
Remus also looked around the familiar shop with a more nostalgic gaze, his eyes were lingering on particular shelves and corners he clearly remembered.
"Still the same as before, mostly," He said with some genuine feeling and a small smile of fond remembrance.
Adrian raised an eyebrow slightly, looking at the two "uninvited guests" with a mixture of mild surprise and curiosity about what could have brought them here unannounced at this hour.
"Remus, Nym—" He caught himself just in time, remembering she hated being called that, "—well, Tonks, while I'm genuinely happy to see you both, I must ask... what brings you here?"
As he spoke, making conversation while simultaneously taking precautions, he pointed his wand at his fireplace with a specific gesture.
The Floo Network connection was immediately severed with a pulse of magic.
Their unannounced arrival made him suddenly realize something important that he should have considered before—keeping the Floo Network constantly active and accessible carried certain significant dangers, security vulnerabilities he'd been foolish to ignore.
Anyone who knew the address could potentially arrive uninvited, including enemies.
That needed to be remedied immediately.
Hearing Adrian's question about their presence, Remus smiled helplessly and somewhat apologetically, gesturing toward his companion.
"Actually, it was entirely Tonks's idea to come see this place."
Tonks scratched her pink hair sheepishly, making it stand up in odd spikes, and said with vigorous enthusiasm,
"Hope we're not disturbing you or interrupting anything important! I was just far too curious after hearing so many stories—Professor Westeros, I heard from Remus during our patrol shifts that you have an entire courtyard absolutely full of rare magical plants... Oh!"
She suddenly noticed Harry sitting on the sofa, and her eyes widened with recognition.
"Harry, you're here too! Hello again! We should have properly met at the Order meeting but everything was so chaotic. Wotcher!"
She waved enthusiastically, nearly knocking over a nearby lamp in the process.
"Good evening, Remus, Tonks," Harry said politely, standing up properly from the sofa to greet the two visitors with a slight nod.
Adrian nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the situation, then waved his wand lightly with practiced ease.
Two armchairs immediately slid smoothly from their positions in the corner to the center of the living room, aligning themselves perfectly for conversation. "Please sit, both of you. Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like some tea? Or perhaps coffee? I have both."
"Tea would be wonderful, thank you," Remus said gratefully, settling into one of the offered chairs with a slight sigh of relief.
His gaze inadvertently swept over the numerous shelves on the walls around the room, examining the various plants and specimens displayed there, and a trace of nostalgia flashed in his tired eyes—those familiar magical plants were still displayed in the exact same locations he remembered.
It reminded him of his days working here in the past, those months before Hogwarts when he'd had nowhere else to go and Adrian had offered him a job without judgment.
At this moment, Tonks had already begun looking around even more eagerly, her natural curiosity was overcoming any sense of propriety. She examined books on shelves, peered at odd instruments, studied preserved specimens in jars.
Soon, her sharp gaze lingered longer with intensity on an ordinary-looking wooden door in the far corner of the room.
Adrian was somewhat surprised by her perception.
Tonks's observational skills and magical sensitivity were truly quite sharp for someone so young and seemingly scatterbrained.
That modest door was precisely the enchanted portal leading to Adrian's private greenhouse.
Incidentally, this particular door had been very carefully enchanted by Adrian with specialized and quite sophisticated protective magic months ago.
If anyone not specifically permitted by Adrian attempted to open it, if they tried the handle or used an Alohomora, they would only see a completely bare brick wall behind it.
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