Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery Year 5

Epilogue

"THIS," said Roland Jackson as his Land Rover inched ahead in the London rush hour traffic, "is what witches and wizards who use the floo network will never get to experience."

"Yeah, riiiiight," whined Dani. "Not boring. At all."

"You should learn to drive when you turn 18."

"Forget muggle coming of age. Rowan will be 17 in December. She'll get to take apparition classes and I'LL have to wait another year."

"Rowan had to wait a year to go to Hogwarts and you didn't."

"Being able to apparate is cooler."

Mr. Jackson changed the subject. "Did Gryffindor win the house cup?"

"Only by what, 70 points?"

The car moved forward a bit, then screeched to a halt yet again. "How's school been?"

"OK, I guess. I think the group's fighting after, you know, the vault, though."

"Teenagers fight all the time, don't they? You'll figure something out. Hey, at least you aren't expelled yet."

Dani thought about whether this was a good idea or not before speaking again. "About that..."

"Hm?" The light turned green, and Mr. Jackson was now freely steering down the road again.

"We found Alex."

Here, Mr. Jackson swerved onto another lane without flashing a light (I can't drive yet, OK?), earning him some angry honks behind him, and pulled over next to the street. He turned to his daughter. "You WHAT?!"

Beat.

"...He's on the run again. He's trying to track down Rakepick-you know, our old DADA professor."

"I know who Rakepick is, she's been all over the Daily Prophet lately, but... Alex?"

"He said that he's been on the road for a few years and he'll be fine."

Mr. Jackson paused. This was his son, after all.

"Maybe I was right to put more faith in my kids."

"You raised them well."

Awkward silence.

"I don't plan on telling Mum."

"I know you don't. Just... If you see him again, tell him I said hi, OK?"

"Will do."

"Thanks. I'm counting on you. Now..."
************************************
The roads were a lot less busy in Godric's Hollow.

Catherine Jackson went outside as soon as she heard the roaring of a car. She was used to this most evenings when her husband drove home, but today was different, for obvious reasons.

The engine sputtered and died down, and Mr. Jackson and Dani exited the car. Mrs. Jackson ran down and gave Dani a tight hug. "I missed you so much, darling. How's school been? Do you need any help with your luggage?"

"Fine, and no."

"As I expected. I'm making dinner, you guys can come in and do what you want."

Unlike the lopsided, derelict Burrow, the Jacksons' house looked exactly how you'd imagine a house to look like in the UK in 1989.

Except for the large, light brown owl swooping around the house, leaving a trail of feathers where it went. This is the family owl, Idiot Sandwich.

Dani hauled her trunk upstairs to her room, and the owl followed her. Dani had been thinking about writing to someone, someone who wasn't involved in the Rakepick conflict quite yet, someone who might just have advice.

"I'll have a job for you, Sandwich," Dani told the owl, who perked up. Sandwich might be rather disruptive but he could be trusted more than Errol.

Dani grabbed some parchment and a quill off her desk, unscrewed a bottle of ink, and began to write.

Dear Angelica...