As Douglas Holmes stepped away from the grand bronze doors of Gringotts, he caught sight of a familiar figure lingering not far from the entrance to Knockturn Alley.
No—make that two.
One was unmistakably Rubeus Hagrid, the towering Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. During Douglas's own school days, Hagrid had been a steadfast friend—his massive frame impossible to overlook.
The other was none other than Harry Potter.
Douglas paused, intending to greet them when they drew closer. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see the pair emerging from Knockturn Alley. If memory served, Harry had simply mispronounced his Floo Powder destination.
As for Hagrid—well, Douglas couldn't help but grin. Hagrid might not be a dark wizard, but the "little darlings" he kept were anything but safe. Sometimes, only the strangest shops offered the creatures and oddities he fancied.
He watched as the two approached, Hagrid grumbling about something, Harry's face streaked with soot and a touch of embarrassment.
Just as they reached the steps, and Douglas was about to call out, a young witch darted down the white marble stairs of Gringotts—making a beeline straight for them.
Douglas's eyes narrowed with interest.
"So this must be Hermione Granger," he mused.
In the bustle of the crowd, Hagrid's booming voice rang clear.
"Yeh won't have t' look much longer—wait, are you… Douglas?"
Douglas saw Hagrid's wandering gaze suddenly snap to him. Smiling, he stepped forward.
"Hagrid! It's been ages. I spotted you earlier—was waiting for you to come closer before I said hello. Ha, I half-expected your diet to suffer after I left, but you look as hearty as ever! And these two?"
He gestured toward Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who were both eyeing him with curiosity.
Hagrid beamed, shoving them gently forward. "This is Harry—Harry Potter—and Hermione Granger. Both of 'em second-year Gryffindors. Good kids, the both of 'em!"
Douglas nodded warmly. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger—pleasure to meet you. I'm Douglas Holmes."
Hermione, ever polite, offered a quick, "Hello, Mr. Holmes!"
Harry, meanwhile, was a little stunned. It was the first time an adult wizard had heard his name and not batted an eye. He studied Douglas with open curiosity, momentarily forgetting to return the greeting. The name "Holmes" tickled something at the back of his mind—hadn't he heard it before?
Hagrid, meanwhile, was already launching into introductions. "Harry, Hermione, don' go underestimatin' Douglas. He's one o' the rare students who had his own private kitchen space at Hogwarts. The braised pork, sweet-and-sour Black Lake fish, white-cut chicken you're always raving about? All his recipes. And Harry, that orchard you were made to tend as punishment last year? Douglas started that as well. Most importantly, he's—"
Before Hagrid could finish, a breathless voice called out from behind.
"Harry! We hoped you'd only missed one fireplace—Molly's in a right state, she'll be here any second!"
All eyes turned as Arthur Weasley hurried over, chest heaving. Harry's cheeks flushed with guilt.
Douglas turned and greeted him with a grin. "Mr. Weasley! It's been far too long!"
Arthur blinked, then quickly composed himself. "Merlin's beard—it's Douglas! What brings you here? I mean, we haven't heard a word from you in ages! When did you get back to Britain? Bill and Charlie both wrote that you'd visited them… Last Christmas, Bill said you were off in South America. How was it? Molly was so disappointed she couldn't send your gift—she thought you'd be abroad again this year, so she made you a birthday present but never mailed it!"
Arthur's words tumbled out like a rapid-fire spell, giving Douglas no chance to answer before they were swept into a hearty hug.
Before Douglas could catch his breath, two mischievous voices chimed in.
"Oh, so it's Doug—"
"—las!"
Arthur shot a stern look at the twins. "Enough, you two! I told you, Douglas never swindled your money…"
Douglas suddenly remembered why the twins were always a bit salty around him. He strode over and ruffled their hair with a laugh.
"Haha! So you two still remember, eh? Don't worry, Mr. Weasley—they definitely learned their lesson that time. And by the way, I still can't tell whether it was George or Fred at the wheel that night, but whoever it was—impressive flying!"
George and Fred blushed—a rare sight—then exchanged a glance as if a light had gone on.
"How'd you know?"
"I mean, about the driving!"
Douglas grinned. He honestly couldn't tell the two apart, but he'd mastered enough magic around names to get a sense of who was who if he focused. "Let's just say, one night in early August, I happened to see a car flying across the moon…"
Turning back to Arthur, he added, "By the way, Mr. Weasley, your handiwork is truly something—but I do have a few suggestions…"
Arthur's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes, yes! I've been dying to ask your opinion—after all, it was your idea in the first place!"
The children exchanged uneasy glances. They'd never expected someone to spot them that late at night.
Ron sidled up to Percy, whispering, "Percy, do you know this Mr. Holmes? What's the deal between him and Fred and George?"
Before Percy could answer, George and Fred leapt in, splitting them up with matching grins.
Just then, a plump woman arrived, tugging a small girl behind her—both breathless.
"Oh, Harry—heavens, darling, where have you been? How did you—"
Recognizing her, Douglas instinctively stepped back. He still remembered Mrs. Weasley's formidable warmth—especially after she'd heard about his parents' fate.
Mrs. Weasley, spotting the soot on Harry's face, whipped out a massive clothes brush from her bag and began dusting him off. Arthur, noticing Harry's broken glasses, quickly removed them and tapped them with his wand.
Reparo!
The glasses were instantly as good as new.
As she fussed over Harry, Mrs. Weasley asked, "Oh, dear, where on earth have you been?"
Hagrid answered, face grim. "Knockturn Alley!"
"Brilliant!" George and Fred exclaimed in unison.
Ron, not to be left out, added enviously, "The grown-ups never let us go there!"
None of the kids noticed that Mrs. Weasley had frozen, her face turning ashen.
Douglas's expression grew serious as he addressed them. "I sincerely hope none of you ever set foot there."
Then he offered Mrs. Weasley a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, ma'am—Hagrid got Harry out in time."
Mrs. Weasley turned, confusion giving way to shock as she recognized him. "You're right… Wait—are you… Douglas? When did you return to Britain? Why haven't you come to The Burrow?"
Douglas smiled and nodded. "I've been back for about six months—just busy with Muggle affairs."
As the adults chatted, Ron suddenly slapped his forehead. "Oh! I remember now—Douglas's mutton stew!"
Harry and Hermione leaned in, whispering, "You all know this gentleman? And when he said he saw the flying car that night—do you think he'll tell the Ministry?"
Percy shook his head. "No way. Mr. Holmes isn't just Bill's friend—he's close with our whole family. Besides, Dad only modified that car because of his suggestion."
At that moment, Hagrid spoke up. "I've got to run—loads to do today. Oh, Douglas, when you're back at Hogwarts, come find me by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I still haven't planted those seeds you sent me."
Douglas caught the look in Hagrid's eye and realized he was eager to avoid questions about his errand in Knockturn Alley—especially with so many people around.
He glanced at Percy, who was lingering at the back of the group. My, how the boy had grown—so much more reserved now.
Hermione, ever the scholar, raised her hand as if in class. "Excuse me, but isn't it usually against the rules for outside wizards to enter Hogwarts without permission?"
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