In the tumult of events that transpired at the Magical Creature Expo, the Daily Prophet recorded two serious injuries and the legal requirements for euthanasia of seven magical creatures.
According to the paper, the legal requirements stirred up an activist group who were highly opposed to the unfair treatment and imprisonment of magical creatures.
The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures specializing within the Beast Division was particularly under scrutiny. Moreso now than ever according to the apparent disregard for one rare Bowtruckle, a now endangered species, which had been caught in the crossfire of the ministries responding aurors.
The Bowtruckle in particular, stated within the paper as 'A harmless tree-dwelling creature that is difficult to find, and has great significance. The Bowtruckle species was once used commonly to find healthy trees or wooden material suitable for magic conduits. Now due to the Bowtruckle's recent endangerment in attempts to track alternate wood sources for conduits for dark arts, the species have nearly vanished in its natural habitat. This decrease is directly correlated to an increase in magical accidents through wand material experimentation. The greatest incident recorded was in Northern Amiens, France. This incident resulted in fourteen muggle and wizard deaths due to the magical explosion of an incorrect conductor-'
The paper continued on. On the second page numerous witnesses had described the chaos as well as their obvious bemoans over the life of the Bowtruckle. The page after that regarded the current attempt for habitat restoration and conservation for the species, and the bills being thrown at the Ministry in regards for the safety and wellbeing of magical creatures under a class one rating.
Harry read the paper quite thoroughly, he had nothing better to do since he had been forced to remain in bed as his ankle reduced in swelling and healed. There were a few words he didn't understand the meaning of, as well as a few descriptions of current bills and decisions made by ministry officials.
He read the paper very carefully, even rereading it once he had finished.
Not once did it mention the Amfivena.
(He never really expected that it would have.)
The house was whispering in quiet murmurs.
Harry awoke silently in his room as the white noise lulled him out of sleep. His room was dark, the windows didn't offer a hint of sunlight or reveal just how late it was.
He murmurs rose in pitch, distinguishing themselves in the incoherent noises of multiple voices.
Harry slid out of his bed quietly. He took a few steps- his ankle had already healed although hadn't been tested yet. He hobbled slightly to the door, turning and peering out into the dark hallway. The further he walked the less his ankle hindered his movements. Once reaching the main staircase, he was walking fluidly and quietly down the steps towards the showroom where the light and voices were.
Harry approached the door, now able to distinguish the voices of his parents as well as an older wheezing voice and someone much younger yet with a thickened accent.
Harry padded forward, gently he opened the door to peer inside. He was correct with his original guess, both parents were in attendance. Alongside them was an elder man Harry recognized only due to his interactions with Skylar, and a short scraggly red haired man who had an uncomfortable grimy aura.
"Harry!" Lily suddenly gushed, running one hand through her hair in a nervous tick as she shushed him towards the door, "Out you go, back to sleep! Your ankle isn't well and-"
"It already healed." Harry quietly offered, silencing her fretting and peering around once more.
"Listen to your mother, this is a conversation for adults." James offered gently yet sternly.
Harry turned, not meeting the eyes of the two strangers. He shifted, about to close the door before he spotted the unmistakable blue of Skylar's pajamas. The boy in question was sitting in a chair, looking rather sleepy suggesting he had been there a while.
'Oh,' Harry thought, not understanding why he suddenly felt such a strange feeling, 'It's a meeting for the important people. Not adults, I'm just not supposed to be here.'
Harry gave a small reluctant nod and trudged slowly out of the room. The door clicked quickly behind him, and the discussion started once again.
He couldn't find an excuse to lumber back into bed, despite the grating constant exhaustion. He walked with dragging feet and half opened eyes into the adjacent dining room. Climbing up onto a chair, he fiddled with one of the gilded Potter chalices that were always used for decoration. His thumbs traced the silver engravings and decorative marks. His fingers left small smudges against the precious metal- he'd likely have to polish it.
Tracing the marks and arches of the cup repeatedly provided him the necessary distraction to stay awake as the muffled voices continued endlessly. They began to meld in the back of his mind to an incessant chatter.
A door opened and clicked shut; the sound itself was very quiet but the harshness of its spontaneity made it ring clearly. Harry jerked his head up, looking as the short man ran one pudgy fist over his fading hairline. The man spotted Harry, and with a crooked unusual smile he waltzed over, trailing one hand over the crown moldings along the walls.
"Hiya," He greeted, yanking out the closest chair with one leg before plopping down on the edge, "You're the other kid, right?"
Harry blinked slowly, and nodded quietly.
"You should probably scamper off," the man rolled his eyes, "Don't wanna be around for that mess."
"What mess?" Harry asked, shifting to look at the other man fully.
"Well, looks like we got more clowns tryin' to out your folks," The man gave a cruelly twisted grin, "Looks like people are out for your family, mate."
Harry tilted his head curiously, "People are always out for us."
"Ah," The man crooned, leaning forward as if to tell a secret, "But this time, I got word that they're gonna getcha."
Harry sat back alarmed, that and also disgusted by this stranger's breath. Out to get them?
"Eh, don't worry kid, we're gon scramble you." The man eased, clapping his hands dramatically, "One of ya over here, one over there, and boom- you've vanished."
Vanished? Splitting up?
"We're leaving?" Harry asked quietly, hands clenching around the cup harder, "Where?'
The man shrugged, reaching out and plucking the cup from Harry's hands. Harry blinked, hands falling onto the table as if stunned.
"Eh, I dunno." The man shrugged, tossing the cup in his hand and inspecting it closely, "Your brother, he's heading off with your pops and that Dumble's bloke, off for training or someth'g ruddy like that."
"Oh," Harry sighed, blinking bluntly as his mind quickly collapsed to disconcertingly blank.
"Eh, I heard your head'n off to your cousin or someth'n. Your mum's got it covered, says nob'dy look there." The man grinned, teeth were discolored and his breath stank of something burning, "Look's like you're going on your own little trip."
Harry's hands started twitching and he curled them under the table and out of sight.
The man slapped Harry on the shoulder once, before jumping to his feet. "I'm Mundungus Fletcher, and I'm takin' this. Hope ya' don't mind." The man winked, brandishing the cup.
"But that's-"
The man popped and vanished.
'-mine.'
Harry's hands shook and trembled with something strong. His mind was blank, and he felt strangely void from the room.
He wasn't- he couldn't be sent away. That was, it was a ridiculous idea-
'Don't get excited over things that probably won't happen anyways.' he reasoned, eyelids sliding down halfway again, 'Why, why would they actually keep me?'
He tried to summon any sort of instance where he had been thought of or given special privilege over Skylar. He tried, yet he couldn't actually remember an instance. He felt as if he was swiping his hands through mist, attempting to find any sort of memory just out of reach.
(He knew, that there was no such memory. He knew it and yet he was desperate for any.)
'They'll send you away.' his mind whispered, and he finally let himself close his eyes against the searing ache, 'Even the man wanted the cup more than he wanted you.'
The cup- the cup.
"Why do people take everything away from me?" He whispered, voice cracking halfway through as his jaw convulsed. He locked his jaw, biting against tooth as his skull ached and his throat was filled with a quaffle. His chest was rising and falling at uneven flutters-
'I don't-' he glanced at the blurred outline of the door where the voices were discussing his dismissal.
Skylar wasn't being sent away.
A single sob tore itself from his mouth, and a tear fell onto the shiny floor.
'I'm sorry that- I'm sorry i'm not Skylar.'
He shoved the palms of his fists into his eyes and twisted. It hurt but it somehow gave some clarity to the situation.
He had tried, he had tried many times over and over to gain his parents attention. They were always too busy to listen to him or read to him like they used to.
They were always busy with Skylar.
("Bad people want to hurt Skylar so mum and dad have to help him, i'm sorry Harry maybe in a little bit.")
(It was always in a little bit.)
Harry hung his head and with small gulping breaths and shaking hands he made the slow journey up the stairs alone. He always had done everything alone, and he would feel weird if someone was to help him now.
Because in the end, he wasn't Skylar.
(And Skylar was the one who got good things.)