The Gray's Secret: Scene 2 (Patreon)

The owl soared over the clear dawn air of the Scottish Highlands, passing over rolling hills and bare mountain tops. It flew out across the water of the North Sea and angled itself on the currents towards the collection of sparsely populated islands that made up the Orkneys.

It saw it’s target. And began to descend...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mister Andrew Roper felt like he was drowning in a world that was simultaneously strange and familiar, while also simultaneously being alien in every way.

“Sophie!” his wife chided their daughter. “Tuck your shirt in. And stop fiddling with your hair, you’ll mess it up.”

“Mum! It’s fine! Slytherin’s not going to be angry with my hair! And it was already messed up on the boat ride.”

“That’s Lord Slytherin,” his wife scolded. “You yourself told us how important manners are to these people.”

“But Slytherin’s cool with it. I’m friends with Hermione, and he’s like another parent to her!”

“Sophie, that’s not the point. We’ve been invited and Lord Slytherin has gone to a lot of trouble to make our journey very comfortable. The least we can do is show him the proper courtesy. You will be on your best behaviour or I will ask your head of house at Hogwarts to put you in detention, understand?”

“Yes, Mum,” Sophie said grumpily.

Mister Roper slowly shook his head to himself and stared out the carriage window.

He’d always known his daughter was an odd one. She never quite got on well with other children. But he’d never in a million years believed that the answer to that little mystery would be, “She’s a witch.” Now his little girl was off to a mysterious boarding school for most of the year, coming back with tales of magic and dragons and the powerful (and sometimes terrible) lords and ladies that ruled over Magical Britain.

It was enough to make any parent both proud and worried.

This was not helped when a drab-looking witch from the ‘Ministry of Magic’s’ ‘Department of Family Affairs’ had turned up with a warning to be wary of strange wizards approaching them with ‘offers of protection’. The ministry provided all the protection parents of muggleborns like them needed.

Andrew hadn’t even known he needed protection.

After the visit, they’d talked about it and decided that discretion would probably be the best course of action.

That was until Sophie herself had joined them on holiday break with a sales pitch for exactly why it was so critically important that they officially appoint a Magical Guardian for her that wasn’t Albus Dumbledore, because apparently, they didn’t even have full legal guardianship of their own child. Oh, and she had just the person in mind, obviously.

They’d told her not to worry about it, but Andrew had certainly been shaken.

Thus it was that when a letter had been delivered by a ruffled-looking tawny owl inviting him and his wife for tea at Lord Slytherin’s manor house on his private island in the Orkney’s, he’d been more than a little cautious.

If it had been up to him, he’d have just ignored it, but he’d reckoned without his wife’s heel-face-turn in matters regarding high society. Strange that. Emily had always said she had no truck with ‘the hoi paloi’ as she called them. “Royals are fine, so long as they leave us ordinary people alone,” she’d always said. Now someone calling himself a lord had turned up with a gold-leafed envelope and an invitation for tea and you’d think god himself had descended.

Or maybe she was simply a lot more worried about Sophie than she let on.

In any case, she’d been perhaps a little too impressed with the chauffeur-driven Bentley that picked them up from their semi-detached bungalow on the outskirts of Huddersfield. And even more so when they made a stop near a Scottish village that didn’t appear on any map and discovered that Lord Slytherin had also arranged for their daughter to join them for the day, having been given special dispensation to leave for the weekend by the Headmaster himself. His wife’s esteem of the mysterious lord had been taken to a whole new level, though, when they’d been met on the pier of John’O’Groats by a medium-sized luxury yacht he’d more normally expect to see cruising the Mediterranean. Even he’d nodded in appreciation at that.

Now they’d been dropped off on Gairsay Island—which somehow went from utterly deserted to a vibrant and lush biome the moment they stepped off the boat—and were making their way up the path to the large manor house on the top of the hill in a horse-drawn carriage as though they’d just walked through a time portal back to the Victorian age.

The click-clack of horses’ hooves and the rattle of the carriage mingled with the song of birds and the rustle of leaves as they arrived at the front of the large stately home.

“Now, remember what said, Sophie. Best behaviour.”

“Yes, Mum,” Sophie replied with a roll of her eyes.

They were met at the door by a strange short creature in a butler’s uniform who introduced himself as “Plato, Personal House Elf to Lord Slytherin, Please be coming this ways, Mister and Missus Roper and young mistress Roper.”

The ‘house elf’ then led them through a large ballroom space, up a grand-looking staircase, and out of a corridor that led to the lawn on the other side of the manor.

There, lounging around a tea set that looked like it could have come straight from the royal garden party, sat two men and a woman. Andrew suspected he knew immediately which one was Lord Slytherin. The one in the mask. Every cell in his body was screaming at him that this was someone to be respected.

“Ahh! The Roper Family,” said the masked wizard, standing up and ushering them over, “Come, come, sit down.”

Andrew had a momentary brain fart when his daughter curtsied before joining them last.

“And good day to you too, Miss Roper. I trust your studies are going well?”

“Very well, my lord.”

So much for informalities.

“And the club activities?”

“Those as well. Hermione is an excellent teacher.”

It was like watching a mask slide over his daughter’s face. Her very being had shifted to one of diffident respect.

“I’m glad to hear it.” The masked man turned his attention back to them. “My apologies, Mister and Mrs. Roper. I am Lord Slytherin. Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin. And these are two dear friends of mine, Daniel and Emma Granger, of House Granger. I believe Sophie has told you stories of the friendship she shares with their daughter.”

“Yes, of course!” Emily jumped in. “Hermione sounds like such an intelligent and strong girl.”

“She is that,” Dan replied with a chuckle. “Hermione speaks highly of your Sophie here as well.”

Pleasantries passed quickly enough but it wasn’t long before the masked wizard drew the discussion to where Andrew knew it would be going. Sophie’s guardianship.

Lord Slytherin’s sales pitch, was, not surprisingly, a lot better than the one Sophie had given them over the break. And not only that, but backed up by not only the testimony of the Grangers, who were muggleborn parents themselves, but also a lot of books from his library and the mind-blowingly incredible magical artifact which the man called a ‘pensieve’, Andrew also believed the masked wizard’s word over the ministry’s.

He was too much of a cynic to have ever truly believed that all was happy-ever-after in magical fantasy land, but he still couldn’t help feeling annoyed at having been treated like a child by every wizard up until now.

“Why though?” he asked, after they’d been discussing how the wizarding world worked for hours. “Why take on Sophie’s guardianship? What’s in it for you?”

“Andrew!” Emily hissed, sounding scandalised.

“No, it’s a valid question,” said both Lord Slytherin and Sophie at the same time.

The two looked at each other.

“Five points to Ravenclaw,” Slytherin said after a moment of silence while Sophie went red.

He turned his attention to him. “Andrew.” It was the first time he’d used his first name. “Until you are actually under my protection I cannot share all the details with you,” he said, putting an emphasis on the word ‘all’. This isn’t a matter of trust, but a matter of security. The Department of Family Affairs has a number of licensed legilimens under their employ.”

“Legili-what now?”

Another explanation later had Andrew feeling distinctly sick.

“But that’s terrible!” Emily said loudly. “And they did this to you, as well?” This question was directed at Emma.

Emma smirked. “They tried. But we were vassals of Lord Slytherin by that time and the busybodies instead got a one-way trip to the local duck pond. Or near enough, anyway.”

Andrew let out a sigh. “I think we’ve heard enough. Dear, I believe we should accept the gentleman’s offer, on the proviso that we get to see the contract before we sign it.”

His wife bit her lip and nodded.

The solemn mood between them was broken a moment later when Sophie punched the air and cheered.

The tension snapped.

“Wonderful,” Lord Slytherin said in his deep voice, standing up. “Then allow me to be the first to formally welcome you to the family.”

By that point it was starting to get dark. The sun was setting, staining the sky a beautiful orange. Apparently they’d be staying the night. Guest rooms had already been set up for them. At some point, Emma had grabbed Emily and Emily had grabbed Sophie and the girls had retreated off to god only knew where to do god only knew what, leaving him alone with Dan and Lord Slytherin.

“We’re already working to bring as many muggleborn families into the fold before anyone realises what’s going on and starts to throw a fit,” Slytherin said with a glass of magical whiskey in his hand – whiskey that apparently caused you to breathe a gout of actual fire when you took a sip. This somehow made his mask look even more imposing.

“My hope is that by the start of the next school year we’ll have all the current muggleborn families at Hogwarts under our umbrella. Well, those who we feel would be good fits, at least.”

“Why by the start of next school year?” Andrew asked.

Slytherin and Dan both took another sip and another gout of flame issued forth. Only one though. Dan apparently choose a non-magical whiskey. He preferred it, he said.

“We were aiming for Christmas,” Slytherin said by way of answer, but we had to move the timetable up because of other timetables which also needed to be moved up.

“Is this one of those things you can’t tell me about?”

Slytherin gave him a finger gun pointed right at him. “Exactly.”

“Secrets are power in the Wizarding World,” Dan said with a wry smile. “The only wizards you’ll meet with no worthwhile secrets are those with no worthwhile power.”

Andrew nodded. He was starting to get a feel for how this world worked. It really was like he’d landed in a James Bond novel, except instead of guns and cars, it was wands and broomsticks.

At that moment, Plato the butler elf popped into being next to them. He had a letter on a silver platter on one open hand and a very ruffled-looking owl on the other closed fist. “Master Slytherin, Sir. Plato was hoping that you would now take parchment. Plato is knowing you said nothing that wasn’t urgent until it was urgent, but Plato is thinking this might now be being urgent.”

Slytherin plucked the letter off the platter. “How long has this been waiting for my attention?”

“Since morning, Master Slytherin, Sir.”

The masked lord sliced open the envelope with a flick of a finger. He read it. He looked thoughtful.

Or at least that was the impression Andrew got. How exactly a mask could give the impression of anything other than the expression it wore was utterly baffling.

Then Slytherin pulled out a quill and parchment, seemingly from nowhere, and quickly scribbled a letter of his own.

He handed it to the owl along with several of the strange coins Andrew recognized as the Wizarding World’s currency.

“Thank you, little lady,” Slytherin said, as though the owl could understand. And a little bit extra for the wait. I hope it wasn’t too boring.”

“Oh, no, Master Slytherin Sir,” said Plato. “Master’s owl Macavity intercepted girl owl on the way in and has been keeping her busy all afternoon.”

There was a fascinated silence.

“I’m sure you both went hunting,” Slytherin finally said. “Here you go.”

The extremely ruffled-looking bird hooted and flew off.

Well, that had been a thing.

After another moment, Dan turned to the man to whom Andrew might soon swear vassalage, as crazy as that sounded. He really wasn’t sure about this whole business, but it did appear to be their best option. And Sophia was clearly happy about it.

“Trouble, my lord?” Dan asked.

“No.” Lord Slytherin looked back from where the owl was flying off, his ominous form silhouetted by the newly rising moon. “Only for other people.”

First Scene | Previous Scene | Next Scene