The right path

Thirty one

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were a strange couple, even for wizarding standards. For one, the fact that they got together by the end of their second year at Hogwarts and never fell apart, was strange. They were kids by then, even if they wanted to deny it at the time.

Fleamont was Gryffindor's biggest nerd. He was always inventing potions, blowing up cauldrons, or reading lots of theory books. When he wasn't trading chocolate frog cards or playing gobstones, that is. On the other hand, Euphemia was Gryffindor's star beater, and quidditch expert. You could always tell when she was in the room, as she was loud, energetic and passionate about the things she was doing.

Nobody really knew how they ended up hitting it off, seeing as they were clearly polar opposites. But that was because no one ever thought about the things they had in common. It was clear as day if you just payed attention to details. They just complemented each other in many levels, it was obvious they were meant for each other.

By the end of their seventh year they were already engaged, surprising absolutely no one by that point. Everyone expected them to have their firstborn by the next year, as most of the couples that would wed after Hogwarts. However, they never did have a child.

That was decidedly the strangest thing that a couple could do in the wizarding world. After all, children were a blessing, given that the magical population was decreasing, slowly but surely. And it was tradition to have kids early in life, that way you could teach them everything they had to know at your prime, with all the energy a young parent possess.

But Fleamont and Euphemia didn't want a child that soon. They wanted to explore and travel for a while, obtain strange herbs in remote places, ride their brooms at the break of dawn in the most amazing sceneries, and simply enjoy their time alone. Later, when they settled down, they would have a child, they said.

Time passed, and a couple of years ago, after a while of traveling around the magical world, they had finally returned to Great Britain. It was not exactly planned, since it happened after an incident involving an obese Diricawl and Fleamont picking herbs. It had forced them back to civilization in a hurry, since they needed medical attention, but in the end they had opted to stay. It was a logical decision, as far as they could see, since Fleamont was just about to introduce his major invention to date, the Sleakazy potion, to the market, and they needed to be able to manage their growing business without complaints.

That's how they ended up back in the Potter cottage, in Preston. It was homey, small, and all they thought they needed. They were only two young weds, they didn't exactly wanted to live in an old fancy mannor just yet. And so, they settled. They spent a year adjusting legal paperwork here and there, and establishing their potions brand among successful circles. Euphemia got a job at the daily prophet, as a quidditch conossieur, and a part time job at the local market, in an ingredient shop, so she could spread word of their newly founded brand. By that point, they felt they were finally ready. Ready to have a child of their own.

The only problem was they couldn't.  It was not infertility, not really. Healers said that probably they would be able to carry a child, just not in the near future. The problem was, the older they were, the slimer the chances to get pregnant got, even more so if the problem at hand turned out to be permanent.

Apparently, that little insignificant altercation with the Diricawl, combined with some of the toxic fumes of some of the experimental potions had rendered Fleamont incapable of maturing his reproductive cells to the maximum. Or that was the healer's theory at least. Maybe it was just plain infertility. After all, it was not uncommon among purebloods these days.

They never lost hope, though. They wanted to have a kid running around the small house one day, to keep them company on those lonely Yules and bring youth back to their lives. So, they did what they had to do. Fleamont stopped brewing without a bubblehead charm applied upon himself, took great care in his diet, and Euphemia researched incessantly to guarantee that when the time came, she would be as prepared as ever to carry a child.

Life had been good. They had just recently found out that their efforts were indeed paying off, and if they kept it up, they would be able to produce a child in, most likely, 15 years, give or take. It was not soon, of course, but by that time, they wouldn't be as old. They would only be 38 by then, and even when it was not ideal, it was not unheard of.

However, if they could expand their family earlier than that, they wouldn't be opposed to it. After all, they had the space, money, time, and loving nature needed to, hypothetically speaking, take in a young Potter that was lost to the world.

Well, maybe the situation was not so hypothetical. Euphemia, having had heard the rumors at the ministry the very same day Harry was foud, hurried back home to tell Fleamont everything.  They were very excited, as they had previously thought they were the last Potters, as the other lines had died down. The fact that Harry was found meant that they had family out there, and not only that, but Harry had a family in them too.

Naturally, they had rushed back to the Ministry the minute Euphemia had finished her tale. They needed to meet the boy, make sure he knew he could count on them, and that he was not alone. But, as cruel as this world was, Harry had already left for Hogwarts by the time they arrived. And even worse, his sudden appearance and lack of records had forced the auror department to open an investigation line regarding his background.

As such, the Potters were forbidden from contacting Harry. They hadn't understood, at first, why sending letters was a bad thing, when that boy probably felt scared and alone. But the aurors were not heartless, they needed to restrict their contact just because it interfered with their investigation. The Potters could not contact Harry directly, but they had allowed them to get in contact with Headmaster Dippet to get reports on the comings and goings of the young boy.

So that's what they did. Month after month, owl after owl, a whole school year passed. And the couple was very much in awe of this mysterious Harry Potter. He was kind, intelligent, and would probably contribute with the explosions going around in Fleamont's lab, given that he was just as inventive. They had heard that he was a quite talented seeker too, and was currently part of the Slytherin quidditch team. All in all, the Potters were pretty impatient to get to know the young lad.

Unfortunately for them, the case was still open by the time Harry had to leave for summer. They were quite devastated when the aurors told them yet again to not interact with Harry. They had pressed, insisted, and begged for them to change their mind, but the ministry never budged. When the case was closed, they would be the first to be notified, but until then, Harry had to go to the orphanage.

They found some solace in the fact that Harry was not alone there, though. Apparently, Harry's friend (according to the Headmaster at least, he said they were always seen together) Tom Riddle was also at the muggle orphanage Harry was taken to. It was a blessing, in their eyes, because even when they couldn't be there, someone was. It was enough for now. But they would soon take them both out of there. A bloody muggle war was going on, for Merlin's sake.

As of now, Fleamont was down in his laboratory, brewing a batch of pimentonic potion he had to send to St. Mungo's later today. Euphemia had gone to Diagon Alley, to get some new parchment and quills, and maybe go up to the editorials of the Daily Prophet  looking for a new exclusive to write about.

It was almost lunch time when the chimney erupted in a burst of green flames, revealing Euphemia Potter covered in soot, frantically descending the stairs that led to Fleamont's lab. Something had clearly happened,  as one big grin was directed to her husband, a letter tightly gripped in her hand.

"Monty, it's time! They finally closed the case, they are letting us meet Harry."

And just like that, the plans they had for the day had changed. They had been waiting almost a whole year for this letter to come. It was time to go meet their family.

The batch of potion Fleamont was working on was now complete, soft steam raising from the cauldron.  Oh well, they could drop it at some point today. After all, now they had one more reason to go to London.