Adventure of the Little Ones: Finding a New Henchman – Pt. 1
"Muahahaha! Harry, you're lost, brother. You can't do anything, just surrender."
Percy stood proudly atop an improvised mound in the garden, holding his wooden sword high and pointing it at his brother. He wore a leather warrior's outfit, marked with red paint streaks that simulated wounds, and on his face shone the exaggerated grin of a villain.
In front of him, Harry, dressed in his wizard costume, was kneeling on the ground. His expression was a mixture of defeat and betrayal, as if this duel against his own brother were real. He gripped his wooden staff tightly, refusing to give in.
"Not yet," he said firmly as he pushed himself back to his feet, filled with courage. His gaze reflected pride, honor, and determination.
"I'll defeat you and take you back to Mom," he added, staring at Percy with solemn seriousness.
For a brief moment, Percy's mocking smile faltered, showing a flicker of doubt. But almost instantly he recovered his role, straightening his posture and raising the sword again with fierce determination.
"You'll have to take me over my dead body."
"Eh?" Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. "I don't think that's how it goes," he muttered, glancing toward Mor, who was calmly sunbathing nearby, wearing a wide hat and showing not the slightest interest in their scene.
Lia, on the other hand, waved her hands energetically, shooting little bursts of light that exploded in the air like fireworks. She was in charge of the special effects in the strange role-playing game the boys had decided to recreate after being inspired by a book they bought in Diagon Alley. A floating muggle camera circled around them, enchanted by Mor to record everything and later show Sally a small movie of her children.
"Eh, I'm sure that's what it said," Percy insisted, lowering his sword and moving with Harry to the open book lying on the grass, rereading the scene they were acting out.
In truth, the game was easy to understand: the children were excited about their new costumes. Percy had claimed the adventurer's outfit, while Harry kept the wizard's robes. Both wanted to show off to their mother. The previous night, during movie night, they had chosen a fantasy film. That was when Harry got the idea to make their own version, film it, and surprise Sally with it.
So, the moment she left on her mission that morning, the two boys dressed up with enthusiasm and began to set up an improvised stage in the backyard, with help from Lia and their Aunt Mor.
Mor, though slightly annoyed at having had to leave unexpectedly the night before and only returning at dawn, agreed to help while resting in the sun. Maybe she hadn't been able to take them on her usual hunt, but children always found ways to entertain themselves.
"Ah… so that's not how it went," said Harry after skimming through the text. "It says the henchman is the one who's supposed to say that."
"Then we need another person," Percy remarked, immediately looking at Lia.
"No, no, no! Lia is in charge of the special effects," the elf replied quickly, shaking her head firmly.
"It's 'special effects,'" Harry corrected with a cheeky little laugh, covering his mouth.
"Lia cannot appear on stage with the young masters," she insisted, holding her ground.
"Well… she's right," Percy admitted, folding his arms with a solemn expression. "Then let's find ourselves a henchman."
"But where are we supposed to find one?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity.
"We just have to ask someone and that's it," Percy answered casually. Raising his sword, he shouted: "Onward!" and bolted toward the house.
Harry rushed after him, worried about the kind of trouble Percy could cause if left alone. Lia, hesitant but bound to her duty, followed as well. She remembered Mor's instructions clearly: not to wake her unless someone was crying or hurt. Since neither boy fit that condition, she decided to watch over them without disturbing her mistress.
Once inside the house, Percy clambered up onto a chair to reach the jar of Floo powder on the fireplace mantle. Harry stood by, uncertain whether to stop him or not.
"What are you two troublemakers plotting now?" came a sudden voice. Fleamont, their grandfather, was watching with interest from his portrait. Behind him, Euphemia lay peacefully, apparently enjoying a nap. Even guardians, after all, needed rest.
"Grandpa, we want to find a henchman. But I don't understand where Percy thinks we're going to get one," Harry explained honestly.
"A henchman, eh?" Fleamont stroked his beard with a mischievous smile.
"Yes. I was going to ask Master Einjard," Percy declared, already holding the jar of powder.
"Ha! That old goblin would whack you both with his staff and throw you out of the bank the second you asked something like that," the old man chuckled. "If you want someone your age, try the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley or Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. Plenty of students should be out of Hogwarts today."
"Hogwarts is the school we'll be going to?" Harry asked, his eyes wide with interest.
"Of course. Every member of the Potter family has studied at Hogwarts at some point. Even your parents met there," Fleamont replied with a hint of nostalgia. Then his tone turned more serious. "But remember: if you ever go, don't leave the villages. Those towns are protected by strong barriers. Beyond them, you could be in real danger."
Though it seemed like he was addressing Harry and Percy, his words were aimed especially at Lia, who stood in the corner, looking at the boys with growing anxiety.
To Fleamont, however, it wasn't such a big deal. In his youth, children roamed freely everywhere in search of adventures. What harm could it do? After all, his own son had been a slippery escape artist at that age. Of course, once Sally, Mor, and Euphemia found out, the old man would certainly face consequences.
"Then let's go see the castle!" Percy shouted excitedly.
This time, Harry, usually the voice of reason, was just as swept away by the excitement and followed him straight to the fireplace.
"Eh… what was the place called again?" Percy asked, holding the powder in his hand.
"Hogsmeade. Say it clearly, or you could end up somewhere completely different," Fleamont warned from the portrait, his tone stern.
Percy nodded decisively. "Hogsmeade!"
He threw the powder into the fire, and in a flash of green flames, both he and Harry vanished. At the same time, Lia snapped her fingers, activating the spell that bound her to them to watch over their safety.
Without anyone realizing, Mor's enchanted camera was also pulled into the Floo magic, ready to continue recording their improvised, dangerous little adventure.
"Have a fun journey, little adventurers," Fleamont murmured with a sly grin.
…
"Wow!" Percy and Harry exclaimed at once, stumbling slightly as they stepped out of a small green flame that flickered atop a carved wooden post. It wasn't like the traditional fireplace they knew. This looked more like a magical torch, resting above a shallow ash tray—practical and oddly charming at the same time.
"Harry, look!" said Percy, pointing into the distance. Through the thickness of the trees, the towers of the castle could be distinguished. Imposing, gigantic, with ancient walls that seemed to hold thousands of years of history. Just the sight of it sent shivers down their spines: this was the place where, in the near future, they would study magic.
"Why have we never come here before?" asked Percy, his eyes shining with excitement as he turned his head to take in everything around him. The village was brimming with life: wizards and witches strolled along the cobbled streets, robes of every color swaying as they moved between shops. Each store seemed to have its own unique charm, with displays offering quills that wrote by themselves, bubbling cauldrons, and showcases full of brightly colored sweets.
Unlike Diagon Alley, filled with general shops, Hogsmeade felt designed especially for students. The atmosphere was younger, more cheerful and mischievous. The boys couldn't stop smiling as they saw so many young people wearing similar robes, only distinguished by the colors of the crests sewn onto their chests.
"Are they Hogwarts students?" Harry asked, fascinated.
"Let's explore," Percy replied, unstoppable in his enthusiasm.
The two of them ran as if they owned the place, zigzagging through the crowd, stopping to marvel at animated signs, self-writing quills, and owls hooting from stacked cages.
Soon they arrived at a sweet shop. The smell of candy caught them like a spell, freezing them in place. It was impossible to resist. They pushed the door open and, their eyes glowing, threw themselves at the shelves: chocolate frogs, every-flavored beans, sugar quills, cookies that popped with sparks. Within minutes, they emerged with their arms full of bags, laughing as if they had found treasure. Luckily, Lia appeared just in time to discreetly pay behind them.
"We have to bring Mom and Aunt Mor with us next time," Harry said, popping a sweet into his mouth. "Though… maybe Mom didn't want us to come because she doesn't want us to get cavities," he added, cheeks puffed adorably.
Percy, chewing, began to observe the passing students carefully. They were all older, most of them teenagers. He frowned.
"Harry… maybe we won't find a henchman here. They're all bigger than us," he finally said, folding his arms.
"Then let's keep using the Floo Network," Harry proposed without hesitation.
Percy nodded firmly, and together they walked back to the green flame.
"Do you know the name of another magical village?" Percy asked, thoughtful.
Harry fell silent, realizing he didn't. They had only just heard the name Hogsmeade thanks to their grandfather. They had never thought to ask about other places.
"What about the ones from stories?" Percy suggested seriously.
"But… those are just stories," Harry replied, shaking his head.
With a sly grin, Percy countered: "Well, we could always go to the Alley. There were kids there… or we could make Master Einjard our henchman."
Harry's eyes widened in alarm, and he shook his head vigorously. He knew exactly what would happen if Percy tried that: a legendary beating.
"Ah…" Harry suddenly remembered. "When Aunt Morgana became our godmother, she said she was the Queen of Avalon. So… Avalon must be a magical village."
"Avalon, huh? That sounds good!" Percy scooped a handful of powder from his pocket and grabbed Harry's hand firmly. "Avalon," he pronounced, tossing the powder into the flames.
The fire swallowed them in a green whirlwind. This time, the trip was different: more chaotic, as if their bodies were being dragged at full speed through a tunnel that twisted and crashed endlessly. Both felt dizzy, nauseous, and pressured in their stomachs.
When they finally emerged, they tumbled to the ground covered in dust. The fireplace they had come from was cracked, split in two, as if it had endured centuries of abandonment.
"Uuugh… that was pretty crazy," Percy muttered, rubbing his head.
Harry was still sprawled on the ground, his eyes spinning like after a rollercoaster ride.
Percy was the first to get up and looked around. They were in the middle of ruins. No complete walls, just crumbling columns and scattered stones. The air smelled of salt and dampness, and after taking a few steps, he discovered the view of the open sea stretching out on the horizon.
"Eh?" he said in surprise.
Harry got up unsteadily, equally confused.
"Maybe you said it wrong," he suggested, the sea breeze ruffling his hair.
They walked deeper into the ruins, noticing burnt wooden beams and fallen bricks, as if a village had once stood there long ago. It was a desolate place: dry grass, moss-covered stones, and not a single tree on the entire island.
"There doesn't seem to be anyone here," Harry whispered. The whistling of the wind between the stones made the silence even more unsettling.
"And it all looks so old…" Percy added, giving a beam a kick. It disintegrated into dust at the slightest touch. "Nobody could live here."
Both turned to head back to the broken fireplace.
But when they did, they froze.
A figure stood before them, as if it had appeared from nowhere.
It was a young man, leaning casually on a sword with a black sheath, resting under his elbow, one leg crossed over the other as if he were using it as a cane. He wore a mixture of leather armor and metal pieces: shoulder guards, knee plates, gloves, and boots that gleamed faintly in the grayish light. His black hair, long and messy, fell down to his eyes, partially veiling a pair of gray irises that shifted between disdain and mockery.
The air around him felt heavy, as though he carried a cold aura that made the boys shiver.
"Well, well…" the stranger said with a crooked smile. "Looks like someone got lost again and ended up in this cursed place. And what a surprise… two little wizards."
His gaze drifted over Harry's robes and then rested on Percy. "Oh no, wait… looks like it's actually a little wizard and a little knight," he corrected with a mocking tone.
Suddenly, his eyes fixed on the necklaces they wore around their necks. For an instant, his expression changed, moving from mockery to genuine interest, and then to a cold, deadly stare.
"Hmm… you…" he muttered, his voice now low and sharp. "Whose children are you?"
The shift in his tone was enough to send a chill racing down Percy and Harry's spines. Fear, faint but undeniable, gripped their chests.