Chapter 12: Is It Too Late to Cast a Memory Charm?
As the group made their way out, Arthur Weasley tugged Mr. Granger along with him, while Mrs. Granger followed close behind.
As they walked, the twins drifted toward Percy and began chattering at once.
"He's incredible."
"No one's ever dared invite our whole family to dinner like this."
"Should we still say trick or treat—"
"Shut up!" Percy snapped.
Then, after a beat, he corrected himself stiffly.
"I mean, it isn't Halloween."
He glared at them both.
"And if either of you causes trouble at Boss's house, I will never forgive you."
Fred and George exchanged a look, both grinning wickedly.
"Brilliant. Percy's stopped saying he'll tell Mum."
"No—he's calling that swindler Boss. Dear Merlin, good Percy's gone bad."
Percy gave a cold snort.
"Swindler? Say one more word and I'll tell Ron and Harry exactly what happened to the two of you."
That was enough.
The twins lunged at once and clapped their hands over Percy's mouth—
only to break apart immediately when Mrs. Weasley's roar tore through the air.
The moment they stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, Lucius Malfoy, who had been watching from a distance, darkened visibly.
His hand tightened around his cane.
Beside him, Draco said disdainfully,
"Father, I saw correctly, didn't I? The famous Harry Potter really is associating with the poor Weasley family."
Hidden inside Lucius's sleeve, one hand was gripping a diary so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.
His voice was icy.
"A disgrace to pure-blood wizarding society."
"To mix so freely with Muggle-born wizards…"
With Lucius's experience, it was easy enough for him to tell that three of the people in that group were dressed in a completely different style from anyone in the wizarding world.
His other hand closed around Draco's shoulder.
"Come."
And without another word, the two of them turned and left.
When Douglas appeared at the Leaky Cauldron with an entire flock of Weasleys in tow, old Tom wisely chose not to offer him a Butterbeer.
He was absolutely certain that if he did, Douglas would somehow turn it into drinks for every adult present.
The moment they stepped back out into the Muggle street, the ordinary sounds of London rushed over them at once.
Traffic.
Voices.
The dull hum of the city.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked around at the familiar streets and instantly seemed to relax.
Then they glanced back.
In their eyes, the pub they had just exited had vanished completely.
For all their amazement at the wonders of magic, the sight brought another feeling as well.
A quieter one.
The unsettling realization that one day their daughter might disappear from the ordinary world just as suddenly and completely as that hidden inn.
So when Arthur began chatting enthusiastically with Mr. Granger and practically dragged him along, the Grangers did not resist in the slightest.
They did not even bother with polite refusals.
From the conversation, they had already gathered something important:
This Muggle-born professor had lived in the Muggle world ever since graduating from Hogwarts.
And unlike some wizards, he clearly felt no discomfort around Muggles.
As Arthur put it, Douglas was one of the rare few who could shift between wizard and Muggle life as naturally as breathing.
That was exactly the sort of person the Grangers had been hoping to meet.
At the very least, he represented a real, concrete connection to the magical world.
Douglas, meanwhile, glanced quietly into Ginny's cauldron.
It was indeed full of brand-new schoolbooks.
No shabby old diary hidden among them.
At once, he felt much better.
Doing a good deed did wonders for the nerves.
As for whether interfering now might alter the future—or throw the familiar plot into complete chaos—
Douglas Holmes could only say: so be it.
Everything had already changed the moment he first stepped into Hogwarts.
And besides, nothing he had gained there over seven years had come from foreknowledge.
He had earned it himself.
Douglas was not Dumbledore.
He did not possess the Headmaster's ability to calmly observe events unfold from above.
All Douglas could do was help his friends where he could.
Especially when they were in trouble.
And besides, of all the families in the wizarding world, the Weasleys were the ones he knew best.
As for where the diary might end up now—
That was not his problem.
All he had to do was keep pace with Dumbledore's grand design and wave the flag enthusiastically.
In spirit, Douglas was already chanting:
I carry Dumbledore's banner. Who dares oppose him? His enemies are everywhere. I am his younger brother, and also his standard-bearer.
In short, Douglas firmly believed that as long as the diary reached Hogwarts at all, Dumbledore would deal with it eventually.
And if not—
Well.
Douglas had prepared more than one backup plan.
Douglas cleared his throat and addressed the group.
"My house isn't far from London. About forty minutes by car."
He paused.
"So we'll need to take taxis."
Then he added carefully,
"And since some of you may not be especially familiar with Muggle transport…"
He glanced meaningfully at Arthur.
"…we should split up."
Arthur's eyes lit up immediately.
"Are we going to a bus station first? Honestly, I've wanted to see a proper Muggle bus station for years—"
He got no further.
Molly's eyes had already sharpened into something lethal.
"Arthur."
She said it in a tone that allowed no argument.
"You will follow Douglas's arrangements and not act on your own."
Then she turned sharply.
"And whichever one of you is pointing right now—stop it."
Compared with the usual noise surrounding the Weasleys, Mr. Granger looked distinctly hesitant.
"Professor Holmes," he said, a little awkwardly, "would it be possible for my wife, Hermione, and I to come as well?"
He cleared his throat.
"We drove here, so we can take some people with us."
Douglas looked genuinely surprised.
"Of course you can. I meant that invitation for both of you as well."
He smiled reassuringly.
"There's no need to be nervous. I'll be Miss Granger's teacher soon enough."
Then he turned back to the rest of them.
"All right. Here's how we'll do it."
He pointed as he spoke.
"Mr. Weasley and George can go with Mr. Granger in the car."
"Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Ron can take a taxi."
"Harry and Percy will come with me."
That was enough.
The twins let out two pained howls at once.
"George—!"
"Oh no, Fred—!"
"We can't be separated!"
The scene was so dramatic that the only thing missing was Douglas himself holding a bowl and dividing them by force.
He had arranged it that way deliberately.
If each twin stayed close to a different parent, at least someone might be able to keep them under control.
Otherwise, there was no telling what they might get up to along the way.
Hermione looked from her parents to Douglas and quickly said,
"Professor, you haven't given us your address yet. How are my parents supposed to drive there?"
Douglas smacked his forehead.
He had very nearly forgotten, thanks entirely to the twins' theatrics.
He gave Hermione an approving look.
"Quite right. I live at 18 Rose Road, Surrey."
"I'll find the taxis, and you can follow—"
Then he stopped.
Every one of the children was staring at him strangely.
Then looking at Harry.
Then back at Douglas.
Harry's face lit up.
"Professor—Professor, I live at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
He sounded almost excited.
"That's only a couple of streets away from Rose Road."
This time it was Douglas who was caught off guard.
He had never imagined Harry Potter lived that close.
He genuinely could not remember where Harry's home was in the Muggle world. The only number that came easily to mind was another address entirely.
But he did know Privet Drive.
And if memory served, that unpleasant distant cousin of his—the one who had once called him a disaster and a monster—had lived there too.
The exact details had long since blurred.
Still, when Douglas saw the eager look in Harry's eyes, he remembered that Harry was only twelve.
No matter what else he carried, he was still just a child.
Douglas patted him lightly on the shoulder.
"That close, is it?"
"Then if I'm home in future, you're welcome to visit."
Mr. Granger, hearing that, immediately added,
"Professor Holmes, we live in the outskirts of London, not far from Surrey ourselves."
He smiled a little anxiously.
"If you don't mind, could Hermione come visit too, sometime?"
Before Douglas could respond, the Weasley boys all began chiming in at once that they wanted to visit as well.
Douglas stared at them.
"If Miss Granger would like to visit, of course."
Then he looked at the others.
"But the Burrow is nowhere near here. Why exactly are you lot joining in?"
He exhaled.
"All right. Enough. Let's find the cars and get moving."
Internally, Douglas already felt a headache coming on.
Could none of them hear that he had merely been being polite?
Why had everyone suddenly taken it so seriously?
For one desperate moment, he genuinely wondered whether he ought to cast a Memory Charm on the entire group and make them all forget the conversation.
Taxis were found quickly enough.
Douglas gave the drivers directions, negotiated the fares, and got everyone loaded into the appropriate vehicles.
Not long afterward, they arrived outside his house.
Douglas paid the drivers himself.
As everyone climbed out, their reactions varied wildly.
The twins immediately flung themselves into each other's arms and began loudly declaring how desperately they had missed one another during their unbearable separation—
only to be interrupted with ruthless efficiency by Mrs. Weasley.
Harry got out and looked around carefully.
Then he leaned toward Ron and Hermione and whispered,
"I've been here before. Before I went to Hogwarts."
He hesitated.
"And I was…"
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