Three Months Later - A Cold February Evening
The Parker household had settled into new rhythms over the winter months, the kind of comfortable domestic patterns that made it easy to forget how dramatically their family had expanded. Peter's science books now occupied an entire shelf in the living room, his clothes hung next to Harry's in the closet they now shared, and his distinctive laugh had become as much a part of the house's evening soundtrack as Harry's enthusiastic storytelling and Ben's off-key humming while he cooked dinner.
What had become impossible to ignore, however, were the increasingly frequent incidents that defied rational explanation.
It had started small—Peter's uncanny ability to catch things that should have fallen, his tendency to land on his feet no matter how awkward the tumble. But the breaking point had come three days ago, during what should have been a perfectly ordinary Tuesday afternoon.
Harry had been constructing what he called his "super tower"—a precarious arrangement of blocks that defied several laws of physics. Peter had been at the kitchen table working on homework while MJ sprawled on the floor reading. When the tower inevitably began to collapse, Peter had reached out one hand without even standing up.
The tower had stopped mid-fall. Completely. Every block frozen in perfect suspended animation six inches from the floor.
"Huh," MJ had said, looking up from her book. "That was weird."
"Weird but helpful," Harry had agreed. "Thank you, Peter."
Peter had stared at his hand like it belonged to someone else. "I don't think I... How did I do that?"
And that was when May had made the phone call.
---
Now, three days later, Ben paced the living room while May sat at the kitchen table, staring out at the February evening. The knock came at exactly eight o'clock—precise and punctual.
"I'll get it," Ben said, his voice carrying tension that hadn't been there since Harry's early days.
Ben opened the door to reveal Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, looking slightly travel-worn but exactly as they had nearly three years ago.
"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," May said, stepping aside. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Mrs. Parker, Mr. Parker," Dumbledore replied, his voice carrying that familiar gravitas that somehow made even the most extraordinary circumstances seem manageable. He removed his traveling cloak with careful deliberation. "Your message suggested some urgency regarding young Harry's development."
"Harry's fine," Ben said quickly. "Thriving, actually. But we have some concerns that go beyond just Harry."
McGonagall's sharp eyes immediately catalogued the domestic details—family photos, children's artwork on the refrigerator, the comfortable chaos that spoke of a house where children were genuinely loved.
"What kind of developments?" she asked, settling into the offered chair with professional alertness.
May exchanged a look with Ben, then took a steadying breath. "Before we get into the current situation, there's something we need to address. Something we probably should have done before now." She paused, gathering courage. "Harry doesn't know. About his parents, about what happened, about what he is. As far as Harry knows, Ben and I are his biological parents."
Dumbledore's expression grew very still, his blue eyes sharpening with sudden focus. "He believes you to be his birth parents?"
"He was so young when he came to us," Ben explained, his voice slightly defensive. "Not even two years old. He adapted so well, so quickly. We told ourselves we'd explain when he was older, but then Peter came to live with us, and MJ became practically family, and Harry was so happy..."
"We kept putting it off," May admitted quietly. "Every time we tried to bring it up, he was doing so well. We didn't want to burden him."
"And now?" McGonagall asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
"Now we're wondering if waiting was a mistake," Ben said heavily. "Because things are happening that we can't explain, and not just with Harry."
He told them about Peter's increasingly frequent displays of impossible abilities. The perfect catches, the impossible landings, the incident with the falling blocks.
"Peter Parker," Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully. "The nephew you've been caring for since his parents died."
"That's right. And before you ask—no magical heritage that we know of. Richard and Mary were both scientists, completely normal."
"Should be and is are often quite different things when it comes to magical manifestation," McGonagall said dryly.
"So you think Peter might be...?" May let the question hang in the air.
"I think," Dumbledore said gently, "that we should speak with the children. All of them. There are questions that need answering, and some truths that can no longer be postponed."
"All of them?" Ben asked. "MJ too?"
"Mr. Parker," McGonagall interrupted with the certainty that came from decades of experience, "when magical children cluster together as naturally as these three seem to have done, it's rarely coincidence."
The implication hit both parents like a physical force.
"You think MJ might be magical too?" May whispered.
"I think we should gather all three children and see what we can learn," Dumbledore said with infinite patience. "But first, we need to address Harry's situation. He needs to understand who he really is."
---
Twenty minutes later, all three children sat on the living room couch with alert attention. Peter, now six and a half, sat in the middle with his characteristic combination of curiosity and caution. Harry, almost four, was curled against Peter's side with instinctive trust. MJ, also six, sat cross-legged at the end of the couch, her green eyes bright with interest.
"Boys," Ben began, settling into the chair across from them while May perched on the arm beside him, "and MJ, we need to talk about some important things."
Harry looked up immediately. "Are we in trouble? Because if this is about Peter teaching me to climb the really high part of the oak tree, I want you to know that I asked him to do it and he said no like five times before I finally convinced him."
"We're not in trouble," Peter said quickly, though uncertainty colored his voice. "But this feels like the kind of conversation adults have when they need to explain something really big and complicated."
"Very perceptive, Peter," Dumbledore said gently, leaning forward. "This is indeed about something quite large and complicated, though I hope not too frightening."
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said with careful politeness, "are you here because of the thing with Peter and the blocks? Because that was pretty weird, but I don't think Peter did it on purpose. And anyway, it was helpful, so maybe weird isn't always bad."
Peter flushed, his hands fidgeting. "I still don't understand how that happened. I just... I wanted the blocks not to make a mess, and then they didn't."
"That's exactly what we're here to discuss," McGonagall said, her voice warmer than usual. "But first, Harry, there are things about your own family that you need to understand."
Harry tilted his head with interest, clearly expecting some previously unknown detail about Ben and May.
"What about my family?"
Ben and May exchanged one final look, and May nodded slightly.
"Harry," Ben said gently, "do you remember asking why you had different colored eyes than Mom and me? Different hair color?"
"Yeah, but lots of kids don't look exactly like their parents," Harry said matter-of-factly. "MJ has red hair and her mom has brown hair. Peter has brown eyes and his dad had blue eyes. Genetics is complicated."
"That's true," May said softly. "But Harry, the reason you don't look like us is because we're not your biological parents."
Harry stared at her, his four-year-old mind working to process this information.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice smaller than usual.
"We mean you were born to different parents," Ben said gently. "A mother and father who loved you very much, but who died when you were very young. And because they loved you so much, they made sure you would come to live with people who would love and take care of you."
"So you chose me?" Harry asked, and there was something hopeful in his voice that made May's eyes fill with tears.
"We absolutely chose you," May said firmly. "The moment we met you, we knew you belonged with us. But Harry, your first parents—your biological parents—were very special people. Their names were Lily and James Potter."
"Potter?" Harry repeated, testing the unfamiliar name. "So my real name is Harry Potter?"
"Your real name is whatever you want it to be," Ben said quickly. "You're Harry Parker because that's who you are, that's the family you belong to. But you were born Harry Potter, and that's part of who you are too."
Peter, who had been listening with growing amazement, suddenly spoke up. "Wait, Uncle Ben. When you say Harry's parents died... how did they die?"
Dumbledore leaned forward, his voice taking on the gentle tone he used for difficult concepts. "Peter, Harry's parents died protecting him from a very dangerous man. A wizard who wanted to hurt people who disagreed with him. They sacrificed their lives to keep Harry safe."
"A wizard?" MJ interrupted, her scientific mind immediately focusing on the most improbable element. "Like, an actual wizard? With magic and spells and stuff?"
"Like an actual wizard," McGonagall confirmed. "Because Lily and James Potter were magical people. Wizards. And Harry—" She looked directly at the four-year-old. "Harry, you're a wizard too."
Absolute silence fell over the living room as three children processed this information.
MJ was the first to speak, her voice filled with scientific skepticism and obvious fascination. "Magic is real? Like, actually real? Not just stories and movies?"
"Magic is quite real," Dumbledore said with a slight smile. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"YES!" all three children said simultaneously.
With a gentle flick of his wand, Dumbledore caused the living room lights to dim and brighten in a pattern that spelled out "HELLO CHILDREN" in soft, glowing letters that hung in the air before fading.
Harry stared at the display with wide eyes, then looked down at his hands with sudden understanding. "Is that why weird things happen around me sometimes? Like when I got really upset about my goldfish dying and all the plants in the house suddenly bloomed? Or when I was really angry at Tommy Chen for being mean to Peter and his bike chain kept falling off?"
Ben and May exchanged startled looks. They hadn't connected those incidents to Harry specifically.
"Yes, Harry," McGonagall said gently. "Those were examples of accidental magic. All young wizards experience it when their emotions are particularly strong."
"Cool," Harry said with typical four-year-old adaptability. "So I'm magic. That explains a lot, actually."
Peter, meanwhile, was staring at his own hands with growing recognition. "Professor McGonagall, when you say all young wizards do accidental magic... does that mean...?"
"Yes, Peter," she said kindly. "The abilities you've been demonstrating—the enhanced reflexes, the ability to influence objects without touching them—those are magical in nature. You're a wizard too."
Peter blinked several times, his analytical mind clearly running through recent incidents and finding new explanations. "But that's impossible. My parents weren't magical. They were scientists. They studied genetics and completely normal, non-magical things."
"Magic doesn't always follow bloodlines predictably," Dumbledore explained patiently. "Sometimes it appears in families with no magical history, sometimes it manifests in response to trauma or great need."
"Like after my parents died?" Peter asked quietly.
"Quite possibly. Extreme emotional stress can sometimes activate latent magical abilities."
MJ, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly raised her hand as if in school. "Professor McGonagall, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, dear."
"Lately I've been having really weird dreams. Dreams where I know things before they happen, or where I see things that haven't happened yet but then they do. And sometimes, when I'm really concentrating on something I'm reading, I can understand languages I don't actually know. Is that... could that be...?"
McGonagall's eyebrows rose with obvious interest. "That could very well be early manifestations of magical ability, yes. Prescient dreams and intuitive understanding of languages are both documented magical gifts."
"So all three of us are magic?" Harry asked, looking around at his friends with obvious delight. "That's the best thing ever! We're like... like a magical superhero team!"
"We're like the X-Men," Peter said with growing excitement, his scientific fascination overtaking initial shock. "Except with magic instead of mutations. This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me."
"Does this mean we get to go to magic school?" MJ asked hopefully. "Because regular school is fine and everything, but magic school sounds way more interesting."
"When you turn eleven," Dumbledore said with a smile, "you'll receive letters inviting you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The same school your parents attended, Harry."
"Wait," Peter said, his mathematical mind immediately calculating. "MJ and I are six, and Harry's four. That means MJ and I would go to magic school two years before Harry does."
A moment of silence fell as all three children processed this implication.
"NO," Harry said firmly, crossing his arms with determined authority. "Absolutely not. We stick together. That's the rule. We don't do anything important without each other."
"Harry, that's not how it works," MJ said gently, though she looked troubled by the prospect. "Schools have age requirements. You can't just decide to skip ahead because you want to."
"Why not?" Harry demanded, his green eyes flashing with stubborn determination. "If I'm magic, why can't I use magic to be older? Or why can't Peter and MJ use magic to be younger? There has to be a way to fix this."
"Harry," Peter said patiently, "magic doesn't work like that. You can't just change how old you are."
"How do you know?" Harry challenged. "You just found out about magic five minutes ago. Maybe age-changing is totally normal in the magic world."
"Actually," Dumbledore interjected with gentle amusement, "there are ways to manipulate time, but they're extraordinarily dangerous and heavily regulated by the Ministry of Magic. And age cannot be permanently altered by magical means."
Harry's face fell with genuine disappointment. "So Peter and MJ have to go to magic school without me?"
"For two years, yes," McGonagall said kindly. "But they would return for holidays, and you would join them when you turn eleven."
"That's not the same," Harry said, his voice getting smaller. "Two years is forever when you're four. I'll be completely different by the time I'm six, and they'll be different too, and we won't fit together the same way anymore."
The adult insight of this statement from such a young child left the room momentarily speechless.
"Harry," MJ said seriously, scooting closer to him on the couch, "listen to me very carefully. Peter and I aren't going anywhere without you that we don't absolutely have to. And even when we have to, we're still going to be best friends. We're still going to be family. Some things don't change just because you get older."
"Promise?" Harry asked, his voice very small.
"Promise," Peter said firmly. "Besides, think about it this way—MJ and I can go to magic school first and figure out all the best parts, and all the things to avoid, and by the time you get there, we'll be like your personal tour guides."
"And we'll write you letters every single day," MJ added. "With pictures and everything. You'll probably know more about Hogwarts than most kids who actually go there."
Harry considered this, his four-year-old mind working through the implications. "Every day? Even when nothing interesting happens?"
"Especially when nothing interesting happens," Peter grinned. "I'll write you letters about what I had for breakfast and whether the stairs moved in any particularly exciting ways."
"Stairs that move?" Harry perked up with immediate interest. "The magic school has moving stairs?"
"Apparently," MJ said, looking at McGonagall for confirmation.
"Among other architectural features that would be considered... unusual... in the non-magical world," McGonagall confirmed with the ghost of a smile.
"Okay," Harry said decisively. "I can wait two years for moving stairs. But only if you promise to tell me about every single magic thing you learn, and you have to teach me whatever you can when you come home for holidays."
"Deal," Peter said immediately.
"Absolutely deal," MJ agreed.
Ben, who had been watching this negotiation with mixture of wonder and concern, finally spoke up. "Professors, this is all fascinating, but I have to ask—is it safe? Having three magical children living so close together, going to the same school? Especially given Harry's... history."
"Actually," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "I believe it may be the safest possible situation. The three of them seem to have formed a natural protective bond, and their combined magical potential creates a kind of... reinforcing stability."
"Like a magical support system," May said, understanding immediately.
"Precisely. And given Harry's unique circumstances, having friends who understand and share his magical nature could prove invaluable."
Harry, who had been listening to this adult conversation with focused attention, suddenly asked the question that had been building throughout the evening.
"Uncle Ben, Aunt May," he said seriously, looking between his parents with earnest green eyes, "does finding out about my birth parents and the magic stuff change anything about us being family? Because you're still my mom and dad, right? Even if I wasn't born to you?"
The simple honesty of the question hit both Ben and May like a physical force.
"Harry James Parker," May said firmly, using his full name in the way that meant she was about to say something very important, "you are our son in every way that matters. You always have been, and you always will be. Learning about Lily and James Potter doesn't change that—it just means you have more people who loved you, not fewer people who love you now."
"Exactly," Ben added, his voice thick with emotion. "You're our boy, Harry. That's never going to change."
Harry nodded solemnly, then brightened with typical resilience. "Good. Because I like being a Parker. And I like having Peter as my brother and MJ as my... what are you exactly, MJ? You're not my sister, but you're more than just a friend."
"I'm your chosen family," MJ said seriously. "That's what my mom calls it when people aren't related by blood but they love each other like family anyway."
"I like that," Harry said with satisfaction. "Chosen family. And now we're all magical, which makes us even more of a team than we were before."
"The most magical team in Queens," Peter agreed with a grin.
"The most magical team anywhere," MJ corrected. "We're going to be amazing at magic school. Well, Peter and I are going to be amazing first, and then Harry's going to be amazing when he catches up."
"I'm going to be the most amazing," Harry declared with four-year-old confidence. "Because I'll have two extra years to think about how to be amazing while you guys are learning the basics."
Dumbledore smiled, watching the easy camaraderie between the three children with obvious satisfaction. "Indeed. I have the distinct impression that Hogwarts won't know what hit it when you three arrive."
As the evening wound down and arrangements were made for future meetings, the Parker house felt both exactly the same and completely different. The same family routines continued, the same bedtime stories were told, but now there was magic woven through it all.
Later, after Dumbledore and McGonagall had departed, Ben found May in the kitchen washing tea cups.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I'm thinking," May said slowly, "that we've just learned our children are going to attend a magical boarding school in Scotland, fight dark wizards, and probably have adventures that will turn my hair gray by the time they're fifteen."
Ben chuckled softly. "Probably."
"And I'm thinking that somehow, despite how impossible and terrifying that sounds, I'm not actually worried about it."
"No?"
"No. Because they have each other. Harry and Peter and MJ—they're a team. They take care of each other, they bring out the best in each other, and they face everything together." She leaned back against his chest. "I think they're going to be just fine."
From upstairs came the sound of whispered conversation as three children who had just learned they were magical settled into sleep, making plans and sharing dreams and promises to always stick together.
And in the kitchen of a house in Queens, two parents who had started the day with perfectly ordinary children went to bed as guardians of three young wizards who would someday change the world—though none of them knew that yet.
For now, it was enough to know that they were family, they were magical, and they were home.
—
Later That Night - The Boys' Shared Bedroom
The bedroom that had once been just Peter's was now a comfortable study in organized chaos. Two beds flanked the window, with Peter's neat scientific posters sharing wall space with Harry's more eclectic collection of drawings, photos, and what appeared to be a hand-drawn map of their neighborhood with detailed notations about the best climbing trees. MJ had claimed the reading nook in the corner as her own during the frequent sleepovers that had become routine, and her current book lay open on the cushions.
All three children lay in the darkness, supposedly settling down for sleep, but the whispered conversation that had been going on for the past hour showed no signs of winding down.
"Okay, but seriously," MJ whispered from her makeshift bed on the air mattress between the two beds, "are we just going to pretend this is normal? Like, 'Oh hey, turns out we're all magical, pass the juice box'?"
"What else are we supposed to do?" Peter whispered back, his voice carrying that practical tone that had developed since his parents died. "Freak out? Panic? Decide we don't want to be magical?"
"I don't think you get to decide not to be magical," Harry said thoughtfully from his bed near the window, where he could see the stars. "I think it's like... like having brown eyes or being tall. It's just what you are."
"But this is so much bigger than eye color," MJ insisted, rolling over to face both boys in the dim light filtering through the curtains. "This changes everything. We're not just regular kids from Queens anymore. We're wizards. Like, actual wizards who are going to learn spells and fly on broomsticks and probably fight dragons."
"Do you think there are actually dragons?" Peter asked with immediate scientific interest, his fear temporarily overridden by curiosity.
"Professor McGonagall mentioned something about dragon pox when she was here before," Harry said helpfully. "So probably yes."
"Dragon pox," Peter repeated wonderingly. "That suggests dragons are common enough to have diseases named after them. Which means they're probably documented, studied, maybe even domesticated for certain purposes..."
"Peter," MJ interrupted gently, "you're doing the thing where you get excited about the research possibilities and forget to be amazed by the actual magic."
"Sorry. It's just... this explains so much." Peter's voice grew more animated despite his attempt to whisper. "All those times I knew I was going to fall and then somehow didn't. All those times I caught things that should have been impossible to catch. I thought maybe I was just getting really good at sports, but it was magic the whole time."
"What's it feel like?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity. "The magic stuff when it happens?"
Peter was quiet for a moment, considering. "It's like... you know that feeling when you're about to sneeze, and your whole body gets ready for it? It's sort of like that, but instead of sneezing, something impossible happens. Like the world shifts just a little bit to make room for what I need."
"That's a really good description," MJ said approvingly. "For me, the dreams are like watching a movie that hasn't been made yet. Everything's really clear while it's happening, but when I wake up, it's hard to remember the details until whatever I dreamed actually starts happening."
"And the language thing?" Peter asked.
"That's weird too. It's like... you know how sometimes you hear a song in a language you don't speak, but somehow you understand what it means anyway? It's like that, but with words on a page."
Harry listened to both his friends describe their magical experiences, his four-year-old mind working to process everything. "I think my magic is different," he said slowly.
"Different how?" MJ asked gently.
"Well, Peter's magic helps him do things better—catch better, land better, not get hurt. And MJ's magic helps her know things—what's going to happen, what things mean. But my magic just... happens. Like, I get really mad or really scared or really happy, and then weird stuff occurs around me."
"That makes sense," Peter said thoughtfully. "You're younger, so maybe your magic is less... focused? Like, maybe as you get older, you'll learn to control it better."
"Do you think they'll teach us how to control it at magic school?" Harry asked hopefully.
"That's probably the whole point of magic school," MJ said reasonably. "I mean, you can't just let a bunch of kids run around doing accidental magic forever. Eventually someone would notice."
"People haven't noticed already?" Peter asked.
"Think about it," MJ said with the logical tone she used when she was working through a problem. "How many times have we had weird things happen around us, and the adults just found ways to explain it normally? Like when Harry got upset about his goldfish and all the plants bloomed, Aunt May said it must have been the new fertilizer she'd been using."
"And when I caught that glass that fell off the counter from like six feet away, Uncle Ben said I had really good reflexes," Peter added.
"Adults are really good at not seeing things they don't expect to see," Harry observed with startling insight for someone his age.
"Yeah, but now Uncle Ben and Aunt May know," MJ pointed out. "Everything's different now."
They lay in contemplative silence for a few minutes, each processing the magnitude of this change.
"Are you guys scared?" Harry asked quietly.
"A little," Peter admitted. "Not about the magic part—that's actually kind of amazing. But about going away to school. I've never been away from Uncle Ben and Aunt May for more than a few days."
"And I've never been away from my parents for more than a week," MJ added. "Magic boarding school sounds incredible, but it also sounds really far away from everything familiar."
"At least we'll have each other," Harry said firmly. "Well, Peter and MJ will have each other, and then I'll join them later."
"Harry," Peter said seriously, "you know we're not going to forget about you just because we're at school for a few months at a time, right?"
"I know," Harry said, though his voice was small. "It's just... two years is a really long time when you're four. What if by the time I get to magic school, you guys are all grown up and sophisticated and you don't want to hang out with me anymore?"
"Harry James Parker," MJ said with the firm authority of someone making a solemn vow, "listen to me very carefully. I don't care if Peter and I become the most powerful wizards who ever lived, and I don't care if we learn to turn people into toads or ride dragons or whatever amazing magic stuff there is. We will never, ever be too grown up or too sophisticated to want to hang out with you."
"Promise?" Harry whispered.
"I promise," MJ said firmly. "Peter, tell him."
"Harry, you're my little brother," Peter said with quiet intensity. "Not just my cousin, not just my friend—my actual brother. And brothers stick together forever, no matter what happens. Magic school, growing up, becoming adults, having families of our own someday—through all of it, we stick together."
"Plus," MJ added with a grin that was audible in her voice, "we're going to need you. Peter's going to get so excited about all the academic stuff that someone's going to have to remind him to have fun, and I'm going to want to know everything about everything, so I'll need someone to help me find all the secret passages and hidden rooms."
"You think there are secret passages?" Harry perked up immediately.
"Harry, it's a magical castle that's a thousand years old," Peter said with scientific certainty. "There are definitely secret passages. Probably dozens of them."
"And I bet most of the students never find them because they're too busy with their regular classes and homework," MJ added. "But we'll have an advantage."
"What kind of advantage?"
"We're a team," she said simply. "We think differently from each other, we're good at different things, and we share information. That's how you solve puzzles that other people can't solve."
Harry was quiet for a moment, processing this. "So even though I'll be the youngest and I won't know as much magic as you guys when I first get there, I might still be useful for figuring out castle mysteries?"
"Harry," Peter said gently, "you're always useful. You see things the rest of us miss, you ask questions we don't think to ask, and you're brave in ways that make the rest of us braver too."
"Really?"
"Really. Remember when Tommy Chen was being mean to that new kid at school, and MJ and I were just going to ignore it because we didn't want to get in trouble? You marched right over there and told Tommy that being mean to people smaller than you makes you a bully, and bullies are the worst kind of people."
"And then Tommy stopped being mean," MJ added. "Because even though you're three years younger than him, you weren't afraid of him, and that made Peter and me not afraid of him either."
"I don't like bullies," Harry said matter-of-factly. "They're not fair."
"See? That's exactly what I mean," Peter said warmly. "You have really good instincts about right and wrong, and you're not afraid to do something about it when you see something that's not fair."
"Those are going to be really important qualities for a wizard," MJ agreed. "Especially since we'll probably run into bullies at magic school too."
"Are there wizard bullies?" Harry asked with interest rather than concern.
"There are bullies everywhere," Peter said with the wisdom of someone who had encountered them in regular school. "But I bet wizard bullies are more complicated to deal with."
"How so?"
"Well, think about it. Regular bullies can push you around or steal your lunch money or call you names. Wizard bullies can probably do all that plus magic stuff."
"What kind of magic stuff?"
"I don't know," Peter admitted. "Maybe they can make your books disappear, or turn your hair weird colors, or make you trip over things that aren't there."
"That does sound more complicated," Harry agreed thoughtfully. "But we'll have magic too. So it'll be even."
"Plus, we'll have each other," MJ said firmly. "And I bet there are rules at magic school about using magic to hurt people."
"There better be," Harry said with four-year-old authority. "Otherwise it wouldn't be fair."
Another comfortable silence fell as they each contemplated the future that had suddenly opened up before them.
"Guys," MJ said quietly, "can I tell you something that might sound weird?"
"Weirder than finding out we're all wizards?" Peter asked with gentle humor.
"Fair point. Okay, so... I'm actually kind of relieved."
"Relieved about what?"
"About finding out I'm magical. Because lately I've been having all these dreams and understanding things I shouldn't understand, and I was starting to worry that maybe something was wrong with me. Like, maybe I was getting sick, or maybe my brain was broken."
"Your brain definitely isn't broken," Harry said with absolute certainty. "You have the smartest brain of anyone I know."
"But it was scary, not knowing why weird things were happening. And now I know it's not because I'm sick or broken—it's because I'm magical. That's so much better."
"I know exactly what you mean," Peter said softly. "All those times I did impossible things, I kept trying to convince myself it was just luck, or that I was getting really good at sports. But deep down, I knew something was different about me, and I didn't know if it was good different or bad different."
"And now you know it's good different," Harry said with satisfaction.
"Yeah. Now I know it's definitely good different."
"What about you, Harry?" MJ asked. "How do you feel about finding out you're adopted and magical and the son of famous wizards who died saving you?"
Harry was quiet for so long that Peter and MJ began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. When he finally spoke, his voice was thoughtful and surprisingly mature.
"I feel sad about Lily and James Potter," he said carefully. "I'm sad they died, and I'm sad I never got to know them. But I'm not sad about how my life turned out. Uncle Ben and Aunt May are the best parents I could have asked for, and Peter's the best brother, and you're the best friend who's basically family."
He paused, working through his feelings with four-year-old honesty.
"I guess I feel like... like I got to be loved by more people, not fewer people. Like, Lily and James Potter loved me enough to die protecting me, and Uncle Ben and Aunt May love me enough to make me their real son even though I'm not the baby they lost, and you guys love me enough to be my family even though we're not related at all."
"That's beautiful, Harry," MJ whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"And the magic part is just... exciting. Like finding out I have a special talent I didn't know about. Like if someone told you that you were really good at painting, but you'd never tried painting before, so now you get to find out just how good you are."
"You're going to be amazing at magic," Peter said with complete confidence. "Both of you are."
"All three of us," MJ corrected. "We're going to be amazing together."
"The magical Parker-Watson team," Harry said with sleepy satisfaction.
"Is that what we're calling ourselves?" Peter asked with amusement.
"I like it," MJ said. "It has a nice ring to it."
"The magical Parker-Watson team," Peter repeated thoughtfully. "Yeah, I like it too."
They settled into a more comfortable quiet, the initial excitement and anxiety of their revelations beginning to give way to exhaustion. But just as they were all beginning to drift toward sleep, Harry spoke up one more time.
"Hey, guys?"
"Yeah?" Peter and MJ replied in unison.
"Do you think our parents know? I mean, do you think Uncle Ben and Aunt May and MJ's parents knew we were magical before tonight?"
"I don't think so," MJ said thoughtfully. "I think if they knew, they would have told us earlier. Especially after some of the really obvious stuff."
"But they handled it pretty well for people who were completely surprised," Peter observed.
"That's because they're good parents," Harry said simply. "Good parents love their kids no matter what, even if their kids turn out to be magical wizards who are going to go to boarding school in Scotland and probably have adventures that give their parents heart attacks."
"You think we're going to give them heart attacks?" MJ asked with concern.
"Not on purpose," Harry said reasonably. "But think about it. We're going to a school where the stairs move and they teach you how to turn things into other things and there are probably dangerous magical creatures and definitely other kids who might not be as nice as we are."
"When you put it like that, it does sound kind of terrifying from a parent perspective," Peter admitted.
"But they're going to let us go anyway," MJ said with quiet certainty. "Because they trust us, and because they want us to learn about our magic and be the best wizards we can be."
"And because they know we'll take care of each other," Harry added.
"Always," Peter agreed softly.
"Always," MJ echoed.
"Always," Harry whispered.
And finally, as the winter night settled more deeply around the Parker house, three newly-discovered young wizards drifted off to sleep, dreaming of moving staircases and secret passages, of spells yet to be learned and friends yet to be made, secure in the knowledge that whatever adventures lay ahead, they would face them together.
In the morning, they would wake up as magical children in a world full of new possibilities. But tonight, they were simply Peter, Harry, and MJ—best friends and chosen family, bound together by love and loyalty and the absolute certainty that some things were more powerful than magic.
Some things like the promise to stick together, always and forever, no matter what.
Outside their window, the first snow of the winter began to fall, and if the snowflakes seemed to spiral in particularly beautiful patterns around the Parker house, if they seemed to dance with just a little more grace than ordinary snow... well, that was probably just the winter wind.
Or maybe it was three young wizards dreaming magical dreams, their unconscious powers reaching out to touch the world with wonder.
In a house in Queens where magic had taken root alongside love and laughter, anything was possible.
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