Unveiling the Secret
A few nights later, the trio found themselves in a dingy bar, the kind that only the locals knew about. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of spilled beer, but the music was live and the atmosphere electric. Mickey and Ian had invited Harry out, insisting that he needed to experience the real Chicago. As they talked and laughed over drinks, the conversation drifted to more personal matters.
Mickey leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Harry, we've got a secret," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Ian shot him a warning look, but it was too late. The words were out, and there was no putting them back. Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.
"We're Squibs," Ian said, his voice low and serious. "Descendants of a line that got written out of the history books. But something's changed since you've been here. We can feel it. Our magic is waking up."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "That's... incredible," he managed to say, his mind racing with questions. "How is that possible?"
Mickey shrugged. "It's a long story, but let's just say the magical world has its fair share of secrets." He took a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "But you, Harry Potter, you're the real deal, aren't you?"
Ian's hand tightened around his glass. "Yeah, we know who you are. The Boy Who Lived. Saved the wizarding world and all that jazz."
"It's not like that," Harry protested, but the words felt hollow even to his own ears.
Mickey leaned closer, his breath warm against Harry's cheek. "Don't lie to me, Harry," he said, his voice a mix of tease and challenge. "We've seen the way you look at us, the way you watch. You're not just here for the pizza and the skyscrapers."
Ian's gaze was less playful, more intense. "You've got to help us," he said, his eyes searching Harry's. "We're lost, man. We're feeling things, doing things that we can't explain."
The revelation hung in the air, as thick and intoxicating as the smoke around them. Harry's thoughts raced. The idea of a forgotten line of Squibs discovering their powers was not unheard of, but the timing was eerily coincidental. He took a slow sip of his butterbeer, trying to process this new twist in his quest. "What exactly have you been experiencing?" he asked, his voice measured and calm.
Mickey leaned in closer, his eyes alight with excitement. "It's like... I can feel things before they happen, you know? Like I've got some kind of sixth sense." He paused, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "And Ian here, he's been pulling off some pretty sick party tricks."
Ian's cheeks flushed, but his eyes remained focused on Harry. "It's more than just tricks," he said, his voice earnest. "I can make things move without touching them. And it's getting stronger."
The revelation sent a jolt through Harry. The artifact he sought was not just a distant prize; it was now intertwined with the lives of these two Muggle-borns who had stumbled into his world. "I might be able to help," he said cautiously. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone. The less people know about this, the better."
Mickey's grin widened. "Our lips are sealed," he said, miming zipping his mouth shut. Ian nodded solemnly, the gravity of the situation settling over him like a cloak.
The next few days were a whirlwind of lessons and experiments. Harry found himself drawn into the Gallagher's world, teaching them the basics of spells and incantations. It was strange, yet exhilarating, to see the wonder in their eyes as they discovered their newfound abilities. Mickey's premonitions grew stronger, allowing him to anticipate events with uncanny precision. Ian, on the other hand, had a knack for transfiguration, his movements as deft as a seasoned wizard's.
As they practiced, the bond between them grew, the shared secrets weaving them closer together. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards them, a feeling that grew stronger with each passing day. Their laughter and enthusiasm helped to ease the heaviness that had settled in his heart, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he belonged somewhere.