And the Missing Child
“Which name is next on the list Albus?”
“Ah!” Dumbledore exclaimed. “Mr. Potter at last. I believe I shall take charge of this visit, Minerva dear.”
“Before you go, has the Department of Mysteries made any developments into the Late Bloom Phenomenon?”
“Alas, they have passed no word, but worry not, should I learn of any development, you shall know.”
—O—
“Petunia, have you a moment?”
“Dumbledore!” Petunia hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“I must see Mr. Potter.”
“The boy never got one of those cursed letters, so I don’t see how he’s any of your world’s business. That aside, the boy’s not here.”
“Pardon?” Dumbledore asked, paling slightly.
“The boy’s not here. He’s rarely in the house.”
“Where would he be?”
“Typically his workshop, but he’ll be on his way to America now.”
“Why would he be going to America?” Dumbledore nearly yelled.
“A cultural exchange set up by the library apparently. Some lady came by to have me sign off on it.”
“And which library is the exchange with?”
“The Metropolitan Library. That’s New York, isn’t it? Regardless, the exchange is two years long, so by the time it’s over we’ll have washed our hands of the boy. Good day.”
—O—
“That was rather fast Albus.” McGonagall commented as Dumbledore walked back through the floo. “Should I send a faculty member to escort Mr. Potter?”
“We have an issue, Minerva.” Dumbledore sighed. “Mr. Potter is not in Britain.”
“Pardon? You mean to tell me that, on top of being three years past his intended admittance, he has disappeared?”
“I have a rough location. Per Petunia, and her memories, Mr. Potter has been selected for a ‘cultural exchange’ with the New York Metropolitan Public Library, a fact she was enlightened to by an as-yet unnamed redheaded woman of slender frame and average height, who seemed to be using magic with no wand.”
“There is more, I presume?”
“The Little Whinging Library has no such employee, and organized no such exchange. Petunia mentioned that Mr. Potter preferred to spend his time at a workshop he had established. After discerning its location, I came upon an empty, abandoned warehouse, with some of the most potent traces of magic I have ever encountered.”
“Oh dear.”
—O—
“Soo…” Harry said, spinning in the chair at his newly installed desk in the Annex’s main room. “We thought about housing problems?”
“What on-“ Jenkins began, turning around to look at Harry. “Would you stop with the spinning? Now, what on earth do you mean?”
“I mean, unless the Library has bedrooms, I don’t have anywhere to live.” Harry replied, pulling out his still-functioning phone. “Zeke’s out, his fridge is dire. Cassie has part of her fridge girlfriend-friendly, and Jake has, like, something he doesn’t like about me.”
“Well, Mr. Carsen and Col. Baird have the couples room for the Tether holders, the Custodian room is, of course, occupied. I believe Ms. Noone may be amenable to a teenaged housemate.”
As Jenkins was doing whatever it was that would summon one of the mysterious Guardians he hadn’t met yet, Harry was busy messaging Ezekiel.
Harry: So, what kind of case needs all three of you to figure it out?
Carmen Sandiego: Some kind of truth curse artifact. Stone thinks it might be a Native artifact or something. Held in this fancy private collector’s personal
museum.
Harry: Lame. Anyway, apparently I get to meet Nicole sooner than I thought. Jenkins is getting her here to talk about me living with her.
Carmen Sandiego: Oh yeah, forgot you don’t have a place to stay here. Good luck.
Harry: Same to you Carmen.
Looking up at the whirring noise that Harry had quickly learned was the noise the Backdoor made when it was working, Harry saw the elusive Ms. Noone. Absolutely covered in plant matter.
“Huitzilopochtli’s Spear, now recovered.” She said, slapping the artifact onto the table. “Which means I get to meet the latest Librarian. Nicole Noone, the Library’s Guardian, at your service.”
“Harry Potter, electrical engineer and technoturge at yours!” Harry replied. “And, uh, you look like you’ve been through it.”
“Oh goodness, is he another Ezekiel?”
“It seems that way, unfortunately. Now, Mr. Potter over here is, as you will have deduced, British, and thus has no lodgings now that he no longer resides in England.”
“And I take it circumstances have occurred such that I am the person of choice to house him?” Nicole asked, receiving a nod. “Before I agree to anything, I have questions, and rules. How self-sufficient are you?”
“Uh, I can cook for myself, do my own laundry, spot repair appliances, wash dishes, ya know all that stuff.”
“Good, I wouldn’t have the time to teach you how to be self-sufficient. You called yourself an electrical engineer. There will be no experimentation in my apartment should I house you.”
“I’ve got my workshop set up here, so we’re chill.”
“If you happen to be active at night, do be quiet. I have a strict routine which I will not tolerate interruptions of unless absolutely necessary. And last of the pertinent points, do not bring potential dalliances to the building.”
“Those are all pretty fair.”
“Very good. Now, come along.”
“Uh, what are we doing?” Harry asked, hurrying after Nicole.
“Assessing your combat capability. Librarians have to be able to handle their own, should they not have a Guardian with them, or in the case they become separated during a case.” Nicole replied, opening the door in front of them to what seemed to be some type of gym. “When I say the relevant word, the mannequin in front of you will activate. Your goal will be to defeat it. Is that clear?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Now, begin.”
Almost immediately, the mannequin began moving, prowling around slightly as though assessing Harry for any possible weaknesses. And then, all of a sudden, it rushed forward, seemingly aiming for a right hook. As Harry twisted out of the way, he felt the impact of a fist on his left, knocking some of the breath out of him. Using his forearm, Harry pushed the follow-up haymaker to the side, dodging the punch it had been a feint for, and hooked his foot around the mannequin’s, yanking to the side, pulling it to the floor. Straddling the mannequin, Harry sent palm strike after palm strike at the head until it was disabled.
“Not awful, but certainly not excellent.” Nicole commented. “You elected to use palm strikes, instead of closed fist strikes. Why?”
“Got into a brawl with some guys when I was recovering a cursed notebook, broke my knuckles from a bad punch. They were fine the next day though, weirdly enough.”
“You remained on the defense until you were certain you could begin offense. That may have worked before, but you will quickly learn that many of the opponents you will encounter will outlast that tactic.”
“Well then, when do the lessons begin?”
“As soon as Eve has returned from dealing with DOSA. They’ve forgotten their place in the pecking order.” Nicole replied. “Now, come along if you wish to see where you will be living.”