Harry Potter: A Typical Man(SI OC)

The second year had started off with a mix of the usual nonsense and the annoying additions that made me want to bash my head into a wall—mainly one glittery-toothed, ego-infested disaster of a man named Gilderoy Lockhart. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been my favorite subject, but with this peacock in robes parading around like he'd defeated the Dark Lord with nothing but a wink and a hair flip, I couldn't even look forward to that anymore.

Even Daphne, the picture of calm and icy composure, had to actively stop herself from freezing Lockhart mid-monologue. I'd caught her fingers twitching during his dramatic re-enactment of "How I Vanquished the Wagga Wagga Werewolf." I had to gently touch her hand and whisper, "Not worth the detour to Azkaban." She had sighed and leaned closer. "I'm not aiming for Azkaban. Just a week in detention. Worth it."

But then came Halloween.

The scream. The petrified cat. The blood on the wall.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.

Classic Hogwarts. When in doubt, blame Harry Potter.

The school buzzed with panic and whispers, and honestly, I stayed out of it. Let the Golden Trio do what they do best—attract trouble like moths to a flame. I had bigger things to focus on: monitoring the slowly rising magical aura in the castle, checking Zærgrim's pulse against the atmosphere, and trying to sneak decent firewhisky into Snape's quarters for our Friday night rants.

Yeah, Snape. My best friend. Ironic, right?

The dungeon bat himself, master of scowls and sarcasm, was the only professor in this madhouse who wasn't an idiot or a manipulative hypocrite. He and I had bonded over a mutual hate for stupidity, love of whiskey, and high-speed death rides in muggle cars. Of course, no one else knew about our friendship—except Daphne and Diana. The rest of the castle still thought Snape only smiled when a Gryffindor cried.

So when the announcement came about the Dueling Club, I knew something was up the second I saw the smirk he tried to hide.

Lockhart, bless his delusional soul, stood at the front of the stage looking proud as a peacock. He flourished his wand and introduced the Dueling Club as if he'd founded it himself. He even dragged Snape on stage, clearly expecting him to play the role of a silent sidekick.

Bad idea.

When Snape "accidentally" disarmed Lockhart and sent him flying into the wall, I choked on my laugh. The entire hall burst out in laughter. I could see the gleam in Snape's eyes. And then he turned.

"To properly demonstrate a duel, I believe a student should step forward."

His eyes locked with mine. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Mr. Bonds."

Daphne turned to me, concern flickering in her icy blue eyes. "You're going to duel Professor Snape?"

I gave her a smirk. "Don't worry, love. He promised not to melt my face."

The hall fell silent as I walked to the stage. Lockhart was still brushing dust off his robes. I pulled out my wand—not that I needed it.

Snape and I bowed to each other, though his smirk said get ready. I tilted my head and smirked right back. Bring it.

"Expelliarmus!" he snapped.

I deflected with a casual flick. "Protego."

I countered with a fast-paced flurry of Stunning and Disarming charms, each spell colored with my own subtle flair. Snape's robes fluttered as he spun to avoid a silent Incarcerous, responding with a freezing charm I deflected just in time.

The students watched with wide eyes. Our duel wasn't a show—it was a dance of precision and respect, with magic flying fast but controlled. I had no intention of showing my full hand. A flick of my wand sent a faint blue spark that wasn't in any standard book. A whisper of Zærgrim's power. Enough to raise eyebrows, not enough to trigger alarms.

Snape grinned.

He launched a silent Protego Maxima and followed with a counter-curse that hit my shield just right. I let it push me back and allowed myself to stumble slightly, making it look like I was losing ground.

Then I lowered my wand.

"I yield," I said with a wink.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yielding so soon, Mr. Bonds?"

"Only because I promised my fiancée I wouldn't show off." I whispered.

Daphne blushed from the sidelines, and Snape, the smug bastard, gave me a knowing look.

Applause followed. Some polite. Some genuinely impressed. Some too stunned to clap.

Then came the main event—Draco and Harry. Predictable as always.

Draco conjured a snake.

Harry talked to it.

Hogwarts imploded.

People were already whispering about the Heir of Slytherin before the snake vanished. Now the rumors were in full swing.

I stayed silent. Let the castle spin its theories. Let the kids gossip.

All I knew was that something ancient had awakened in this castle. I could feel it.

Zærgrim pulsed faintly under my robes.

This wasn't over.

But tonight? I had won in my own way. I'd entertained a friend, kept my promise to Daphne, and reminded Lockhart that real magic can't be bottled in books filled with lies.

And when Daphne pulled me into the hallway later and kissed me with a smile that melted every chill in the room, I knew I'd done something right.

Let the Chamber stay open.

Let secrets unravel.

I'd be ready.

Time skip,

Christmas at Greengrass Manor was everything you'd expect from one of the old Sacred Twenty-Eight families. Regal, composed, and far too quiet for my liking—until I showed up.

Lady Greengrass had invited me when we first met at King's Cross Station earlier this year when I was taking the train back for my second year at Hogwarts with Daphne. That was also when I gave Astoria a stabilizing potion I'd crafted—something to ease the pain of her curse until I could come up with a permanent cure.

After seeing the effects of the potion, Lady Greengrass didn't just thank me—she formally invited me to spend Christmas with their family. I'd promised to come, and more importantly, I'd promised to finish what I started.

Astoria's curse.

The illness that had haunted the youngest Greengrass daughter since birth.

I'd brought with me something… rare. Unheard of in this world.

But before any of that—before I even thought about revealing the fruit—I had to ensure silence.

We sat in the drawing room, fire crackling in the hearth. Daphne sat beside me, her hand warm in mine. Lord Greengrass looked curious but cautious. Lady Greengrass kept her expression calm, though I could see the questions burning in her eyes.

"I need both of you to swear an oath," I began, voice steady. "This can't leave this room. Not to friends. Not to family. Not even to your ancestors' portraits."

Lord Greengrass arched an eyebrow. "That serious, is it?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And if you can't, then I walk away right now."

Daphne looked up at her parents. "You trust me. Trust him."

Without another word, they both raised their wands and took the vow of secrecy. The magic pulsed in the air, binding and silent.

Then I pulled out my phone.

Lady Greengrass stared at it. "That's…?"

"A Muggle device," I said, smirking. "But that's not why I'm calling."

I hit Snape's contact.

He answered in two rings. "Yes?"

"Time to meet the in-laws."

"You mean your in-laws," he replied dryly. "I'll be there in five."

And five minutes later, a tall, brooding figure in a black trench coat walked through the magical security wards like they weren't even there. Severus Snape—greasy dungeon bat and terror of Hogwarts—strode into Greengrass Manor as casually as if he'd been there for tea a dozen times.

But this wasn't the Snape they remembered.

No, this man wore stylish muggle clothes. Slim black jeans, a dark button-up shirt, and an obsidian black leather jacket with gloves to match. His normally greasy hair was tied back, dyed a sandy blond, and styled with an effortless flair. He looked like a damn runaway model.

Lord Greengrass stood so fast he nearly knocked over his chair.

"You… you're Severus Snape."

"In the flesh," he said, shaking off a bit of snow. "Pleasure."

"Pleasure?" Lady Greengrass echoed, baffled. "You're smiling."

Snape looked at me. "I told you this was a mistake."

"You're doing fine," I muttered.

Snape shot me a glare. "You owe me whisky."

Lord Greengrass narrowed his eyes, staring Snape down like a rival in a duel. "He's more handsome than I remember," he muttered under his breath, then quickly added, "Still rather average, though."

Daphne giggled. "Father, please."

We gathered in the smaller study, where the fire was warmer and the walls less intimidating.

"This is what I brought you here for," I said. "These."

I conjured a small golden table and placed three fruits on it.

Lord Greengrass blinked. "They look… unnatural."

"They are," I said. "They're called Devil Fruits. Only six of them exist. I've eaten one. Snape's eaten one. So has Daphne."

I gestured at the three fruits I'd brought for display.

"The Pika Pika no Mi—Light-Light Fruit. That's mine. I can move at the speed of light, turn into photons, create lasers. It's raw velocity and brilliance incarnate."

Snape conjured a flame. "Mine is the Mera Mera no Mi—Flame-Flame Fruit. Fire is an extension of me now. It dances at my will."

Daphne held up a shimmering palm. "Hei Hei no Mi—Ice-Ice Fruit. I can control and generate ice. I could turn this manor into a glacier if I wanted."

Lady Greengrass looked like she might faint.

"You're telling me these… things… grant powers like that?"

"Yes. Powers beyond any magic known to this world. But there's a catch."

"Of course," Lord Greengrass muttered.

"You lose the ability to swim."

Lady Greengrass frowned. "What?"

"You become a hammer," Snape added. "You drop into water, and you sink. Instantly."

"And you want to give this to my daughter?"

I nodded. "The Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Phoenix. She will gain healing powers. Regeneration. Immortality, if used properly. Her curse will vanish."

There was silence.

And then Lord Greengrass asked quietly, "Can you prove it works?"

I turned to Snape. "Want to melt something?"

Snape grinned. "Gladly."

He raised his hand and shot a small jet of flame across the room, igniting a bundle of kindling. Daphne casually froze the flame.

"That… is impossible," Lady Greengrass whispered.

I turned to them. "She'll be okay. But I have to monitor her when she eats it. It's not permanent until she adapts. We give her the fruit. She transforms. The curse is gone."

"Why not tell us this before?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Because people kill for these fruits. I'm trusting you with something I don't even trust the Ministry with."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. Do it."

Snape poured himself a drink. "Now let's hope she doesn't throw it up. They taste horrendous."

I also made it clear that these weren't the same cursed Devil Fruits whispered about in legends.

"Normally, these fruits come with a heavy price," I added, looking Lord Greengrass in the eye. "The eater becomes helpless in water. But these? They're older. Rarer. Upgraded. They don't carry that curse. No sea weakness. No magic instability. Just raw, pure power."

Snape nodded. "I've tested it myself. Bathed, swam, even dueled near the lake. These aren't like anything else. They're perfect versions. Evolved."

Lady Greengrass sat back, eyes wide. "I beg your pardon but again How many of these… exist?"

"Only six," I answered. "And three of them are here in this room."

"And the one for Astoria?"

"The Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Phoenix," I said, holding up the beautifully feathered blue fruit. "She'll become a human phoenix. She'll heal herself naturally. But there's risk—if she panics, her flames could burn the house down. That's why I called Snape and brought Daphne. If something goes wrong, our elements can stabilize her."

Lord and Lady Greengrass exchanged glances.

Then, for the first time since I walked into their manor, Lady Greengrass stood up and extended her hand.

"Thank you, Jon. For everything."

"Don't thank me yet," I said. "We're only just beginning."

The drawing room had transformed into something between a sacred altar and a medical ward. Soft candlelight cast flickering shadows across the walls as Daphne gently helped Astoria sit on the couch. She looked small—far too small for the burden she carried.

Her breathing was shallow, and her skin was pale beneath the firelight. But her eyes—those wide, intelligent eyes—were watching everything. She knew something was happening. And it scared her.

Snape moved through the room with clinical precision, transfiguring chairs into a curved barricade and silencing the walls. Daphne sat beside her sister, holding her hand. Lady and Lord Greengrass stood stiff near the fireplace, anxiety carefully masked under their composed expressions.

I stepped forward, holding the fruit in my hands. The Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Phoenix. It shimmered like a living jewel—feathers of blue and gold wrapping its body in spiraling grooves, pulsing with ancient, sleeping power.

Astoria stared at it. "That… that's not a potion."

I crouched beside her, letting her see it clearly. "You're right. It's not a potion. It's something very special. And it's going to help you, Astoria. I promise."

"Will it hurt?" she asked quietly.

I hesitated only a second. "Maybe a little. But not for long. And I'll be right here with you. So will Daphne. And Professor Snape."

Snape gave her a rare, almost soft nod. "You're braver than most grown wizards I've met, Miss Greengrass."

Lord Greengrass cleared his throat. "Are we ready, then?"

"Almost."

I turned to them. "I'll need your help controlling the magic that might erupt. She's going to burn hot. Very hot. But don't attack her—focus on redirecting the energy. Daphne, you'll chill the room. Severus, contain the flame. I'll stabilize her from the center."

Lady Greengrass stepped forward and knelt before her youngest daughter. She tucked a strand of Astoria's hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.

"You're our little star, Tori. You always have been."

And then, with a trembling hand, Astoria reached out and took the fruit.

The first bite made her gag.

"Ugh!" she sputtered. "It tastes like rotten broccoli and dragon dung!"

Snape winced. "They really are vile."

But she swallowed. And then, everything changed.

Her eyes widened. Her skin shimmered.

Then she screamed.

Blue flames erupted around her like a living inferno, bursting out in wild spirals. Lady Greengrass screamed and stepped back, nearly tripping. Lord Greengrass drew his wand on instinct.

"Don't attack her!" I shouted.

Daphne's hands moved instantly. A wall of ice swept around the flames, chilling the air and creating a shimmering mist. Snape summoned a protective ward that held the fire in a circle around Astoria, while I knelt behind her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

"It's okay! Astoria—it's okay! You're not burning! You are the fire now!"

She was crying, her body shaking violently as glowing wings of flame burst from her back. The room filled with the phoenix's song—a heart-wrenching sound, ancient and pure, like hope woven in melody.

"She's… she's transforming!" Daphne whispered.

The blue fire suddenly surged upward in a column that touched the ceiling, and when it dimmed—there she was.

Astoria floated three feet above the ground, suspended in a cocoon of golden fire. Her skin radiated warmth. Her eyes glowed bright sapphire, and blue feathers trailed behind her like stardust.

And then she landed.

Whole. Healed.

The flames vanished.

She gasped once—then breathed, deep and steady. Color returned to her cheeks. The curse marks on her arms were gone. Her body—light. Her aura—pure.

Lady Greengrass dropped to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. Lord Greengrass turned to the wall and ran a hand through his hair, unable to speak.

Snape muttered, "Bloody hell…"

Daphne clutched her sister and sobbed into her shoulder.

I stood there, dazed. This was why I came here. Why I risked using these fruits. Why I brought Severus and Daphne. Why I made them swear secrecy.

Astoria was no longer cursed.

She was reborn.

Later that night, after things calmed down, and Astoria had fallen asleep curled beside Daphne, the four adults returned to the drawing room. Snape poured drinks.

"She's stable now," he said. "Still radiating flame, but she'll learn to suppress it. She's… strong."

Lord Greengrass was still staring at the fire. "I watched my daughter become a mythical creature tonight. A living phoenix."

Lady Greengrass smiled tearfully. "And she's alive. That's all that matters."

"You've changed her future," she said to me. "You've given her something we never could."

"I just gave her the fruit," I replied. "She did the rest."

Snape grunted. "We'll need to teach her how to use it. Daphne can help her. Ice and flame. Perfect training partners."

Daphne nodded. "We'll take care of her. I promise."

Lord Greengrass turned to Snape and said dryly, "I'm still having trouble believing you walked into my home looking like a damn model."

Snape smirked. "Would you prefer the greasy bat persona? I keep it for special occasions."

Lady Greengrass laughed. "Severus, it suits you."

Snape raised his glass. "To the Phoenix."

We all toasted.

And for the first time in a very long time… I felt peace.

------

As the fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting warm golden hues across the elegant sitting room of the Greengrass Manor, the mood was one of calm after a storm. The miracle of Astoria's transformation still lingered like an echo in the walls—electric, weighty, almost sacred. The family had only just begun to process the unbelievable truth: their youngest daughter was now a mythical phoenix, reborn from pain into possibility.

Jon leaned back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other, swirling the last amber drops in his whiskey glass with a boyish smirk tugging at his lips.

"So, Severus," Jon said with a teasing edge in his voice, "have you proposed to Diana yet, or are you still working on your dramatic speech for the perfect candlelight moment?"

Snape gave him a slow, withering look over the rim of his own glass, but the glint in his eyes betrayed nothing but amusement.

At that moment, Lord Greengrass—mid-sip of his after-dinner brandy—choked with a spluttering cough. "P-Propose?" he rasped.

Delphina Greengrass's eyes widened in tandem with her husband's as she turned sharply to look at Snape. "You—you have a girlfriend?"

"Wait, what?" Cedric echoed, staring at Snape as if he had just declared he was a part-time Veela. "You? Dating? A real woman?"

Daphne burst into full-on hysterical laughter. "Oh, Mum, Dad—you should've seen your faces! I told you he's not just Hogwarts' greasiest mystery man anymore. He's basically Hogwarts' James Bond in leather and sarcasm!"

Snape, with perfect timing, raised his left hand.

A silver band gleamed under the golden chandelier light.

There was a brief silence so thick it could've been sliced with a knife.

"I'm engaged," Snape announced coolly. "The ceremony's in the summer. You're all invited, of course."

Cedric Greengrass's mouth hung open. He blinked. Twice.

"…Snape is marrying a woman," he muttered. "A living one. By choice."

"Is it an enchantment?" Delphina asked, half-serious. "Did he slip her a love potion or cast a charm on himself? That hair—he used to look like he bathed in cauldron oil."

"I'm sitting right here," Snape said flatly.

Jon was laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "Sev, my guy, I don't think I've ever seen Cedric this rattled. You've broken his entire worldview."

Cedric ran a hand through his hair. "First my daughter tells me she's marrying a muggle-born who can summon lightning from his eyes, then you show up wearing a fitted muggle coat, looking like you just stepped out of a fashion shoot—and now you're engaged?! What's next? Dumbledore moonlighting as a jazz singer?"

"I'd pay to see that," Jon muttered.

Daphne snorted and added, "Dad's just upset Severus looks more handsome than him now. Midlife crisis, anyone?"

"Oh, shut it, Daphne," Cedric muttered, though he was chuckling despite himself.

Delphina turned to Snape, eyes still twinkling with disbelief. "You… you proposed? How did you even do it? A love letter written in runes? Summon a Patronus and make it kneel with a ring?"

Snape, at that, smirked. "No. Just a question. And she said yes."

Jon clapped a hand on his friend's back. "And I expect to be your wingman, mate. I've got my tux ready."

Snape sipped his drink. "Only if I get to be yours."

Daphne smiled, slipping her hand into Jon's. "Deal."

As the grandfather clock chimed the hour, Snape stood, slipping into his obsidian black muggle coat, the sharp cut hugging his frame. "I should be going. Diana doesn't like waiting up too late."

Cedric narrowed his eyes. "You've changed, Snape."

"Have I?" Snape replied. "Or perhaps you're just finally seeing all of me."

"You've got charm now. Style. Swagger, even. I don't like it."

Jon gave Snape a salute as they walked toward the door. "I told you—he's been hiding this for years."

"Daphne," Snape called over his shoulder, "your fiancé is a bad influence."

"You two are both disasters in tailored coats," she called back.

Outside, the night was crisp, and the stars looked down on Greengrass Manor as two friends walked together to the gates. Laughter trailed behind them, mingling with the scent of cigar smoke and winter magic.

Inside, Delphina Greengrass blinked at her husband and murmured, "I think the world just tilted on its axis."

Cedric sighed. "If Severus Snape is getting married, I need to hit the gym again."

And somewhere upstairs, Astoria's new phoenix feathers shimmered in the moonlight, humming with the quiet promise of a life just beginning.

--------

The sun had barely risen the next day when Greengrass Manor erupted into chaos. It all started with a commotion—actually two. One involved a blue-feathered, flaming phoenix girl, and the other a thunder-charged red-tailed hawk, now more than just an ordinary bird. Astoria and Vajra had become partners in mythological mischief.

"ASTORIA SELENE GREENGRASS!" Delphina's voice rang through the manor like a warhorn.

"I told you," Daphne muttered to her fiancé, pinching the bridge of her nose while watching her younger sister shoot through the air like a comet of holy fire and mischief. Vajra screeched beside her, wings crackling with electricity, the sky booming with each flap.

Jon, calmly sipping a glass of vintage firewhiskey on the balcony with Cedric Greengrass, nodded appreciatively. "You know," he said, "I did warn you this might happen."

"You gave my daughter wings!" Cedric groaned, slumping back into his chair. "And not just wings! Literal phoenix-level combustion! There's fire in my vineyards now! Sparks on the roof! Vajra shorted out the entire east wing's wards!"

"And that's why I gave her the Phoenix fruit," Jon said, unbothered. "I considered other options. The Magma fruit? The Thunder fruit? Do you really want your daughter walking around with the power of a volcano or turning into an actual thunderstorm?"

Daphne, arms folded and tapping her foot, huffed. "Honestly, Father, this is the least destructive route. Be grateful."

Suddenly, a loud explosion from the west garden cut off any response. A fiery blue streak zipped across the sky, followed by thunderbolt swirls left in Vajra's wake. Astoria's laughter echoed like fireworks.

"Oh no," Daphne muttered.

Delphina stormed out, wand raised, her silk robe billowing like a duelist on a battlefield. "ASTORIA, LAND. NOW."

From above, Astoria peeked her head out from behind a pillar of flame, grinning mischievously. "Mum! Did you see that spiral dive?! Vajra and I are making art up here!"

"You are making my headache worse," Delphina snapped. "If you burn my rose garden, I'll ground you until you're thirty."

Daphne had enough. With a flick of her hand, an arctic gust swept through. A blizzard surged upward, encasing the flying duo in a glittering dome of frost. Vajra screeched indignantly.

"You," Daphne barked, "down. Now. You're both grounded."

"Why's it always me?" Astoria sighed, slowly descending like a guilty ember falling from the sky.

Jon and Cedric watched the whole scene like it was a sold-out Quidditch World Cup match.

"Should we help?" Cedric asked dryly.

Jon took another sip of his whiskey. "Absolutely not."

"Smart man."

Daphne and Delphina converged on the phoenix girl and her thunderbird accomplice, scolding, threatening, lecturing about propriety and control, and promising magical tutoring.

"I told you," Daphne hissed, "you don't just fly around like a literal supernova without checking the house wards!"

"But we were careful this time!" Astoria whined.

Vajra squawked indignantly.

"Oh, don't you dare play innocent, featherball," Daphne snapped.

"She's got you both trained already," Jon muttered to Cedric.

The older Greengrass sighed, raising his glass to Jon in a toast. "To mythological chaos."

"May it never be boring."

As the Greengrass women kept scolding the two mythic creatures, Jon and Cedric leaned back further into their chairs.

"Do you think I still have time to retire to the mountains?" Cedric asked.

Jon grinned. "Only if I can come with you."

From above, Astoria shouted, "Jon! Can we try the garden race again tomorrow? I promise I'll only set half of it on fire!"

Jon deadpanned, "Only if you let me build the obstacle course."

Daphne turned to him slowly. "You are not helping."

Jon just winked."ASTORIA SELENE GREENGRASS!" Delphina's voice rang through the manor like a warhorn.

"I told you," Daphne muttered to her fiancé, pinching the bridge of her nose while watching her younger sister shoot through the air like a comet of holy fire and mischief. Vajra screeched beside her, his wings crackling with electrical energy, the sky booming with each flap.

Jon, calmly sipping a glass of vintage firewhiskey beside Cedric Greengrass on the balcony, nodded appreciatively. "You know," he said, "I did warn you this might happen."

"You gave my daughter wings!" Cedric groaned, slumping back in his chair. "And not just wings! Literal phoenix-level combustion! There's fire in my vineyards now! There are sparks on the roof! Vajra shorted out the entire east wing's wards!"

"And that's why I gave her the Phoenix fruit," Jon said, completely unbothered. "I considered the other options. The Magma fruit? The Thunder fruit? Do you really want your daughter walking around with the power of a volcano or becoming an actual thunderstorm?"

Daphne, arms folded and tapping her foot, huffed. "Honestly, Father, this is the least destructive route. Be grateful."

Just then, a loud explosion from the west garden cut off any response. A fiery blue blur streaked across the sky followed by thunderbolt swirls left in Vajra's wake. Astoria's laughter echoed like fireworks.

"Oh no," Daphne muttered.

Delphina stormed out with her wand raised, her silken robe billowing like a duelist on a battlefield. "ASTORIA, LAND. NOW."

From above, Astoria peeked her head around a pillar of flame with a mischievous grin. "Mum! Did you see that spiral dive?! Vajra and I are making art up here!"

"You are making my headache worse," Delphina snapped. "If you burn my rose garden, I will ground you until you are thirty."

Daphne had had enough. With a simple flick of her hand, an arctic gust swept up. A blizzard surged skyward and encased the flying duo in a glittering dome of frost. Vajra screeched indignantly.

"You," Daphne barked, "down. Now. You're both grounded."

"Why's it always me?" Astoria sighed, slowly descending like a guilty ember falling from the sky.

Jon and Cedric were watching the entire performance like it was a sold-out Quidditch World Cup match.

"Should we help?" Cedric asked dryly.

Jon took another sip of his whiskey. "Absolutely not."

"Smart man."

Daphne and Delphina converged on the phoenix girl and her thunderbird accomplice like a storm. There were scoldings, threats, lectures about propriety and control, and promises of magical tutoring.

"I told you," Daphne hissed, "you don't just fly around like a literal supernova without checking the house wards!"

"But we were careful this time!" Astoria whined.

Vajra squawked indignantly.

"Oh, don't you dare play innocent, featherball," Daphne snapped at the hawk.

"She's got you both trained already," Jon muttered to Cedric.

The older Greengrass man sighed and raised his glass to Jon in salute. "To mythical chaos."

"May it never be boring."

As the Greengrass women continued scolding the two newly mythic beings, Jon and Cedric leaned further back into their chairs.

"Do you think I still have time to retire to the mountains?" Cedric asked.

Jon grinned. "Only if I can come with you."

From the sky, Astoria shouted, "Jon! Can we try the garden race again tomorrow? I promise I'll only set half of it on fire!"

Jon raised his voice, deadpan. "Only if you let me build the obstacle course."

Daphne turned to him slowly. "You are not helping."

Jon just winked.