he has your eyes… · Y/n story by @blackcat5

The Portkey deposited them at the edge of Diagon Alley with a jarring yank, and Orion stumbled forward, catching himself on Lucille's coat.

Orion Rosier

peering up at the cobblestone street Mum, why are all the buildings crooked?

Lucille Rosier

smoothing down his charmed hair, heart hammering They're not crooked, love. They're just old. Older than anything you've seen in New York.

Seven years. Seven years she'd been gone, and still the familiar scent of the old apothecary and freshly baked pumpkin pasties hit her like a Bludger to the chest. Theodore's hand settled on her lower back, a quiet anchor.

Theodore Nott

low, near her ear You're doing fine. Deep breaths.

Orion Rosier

tugging at her sleeve Mum, that man over there has a monkey on his shoulder. Can I go see?

Lucille Rosier

a strangled laugh That's not a monkey, Orion. That's a—she trails off as the man turns, and her blood runs cold

The man with the monkey was not the problem. The problem was the tall, pale figure emerging from Flourish and Blotts, a copy of Advanced Potion-Making tucked under his arm.