*Gordillo y Garza household*Yucatan, Mexico*July thirty-one*
"NGH" Harry yawned, stretching his arms and clicking his tongue once his yawn finished.
It was so good waking up without anyone forcing him.
His two weeks at the Gordillo's had been fun, with them either playing, talking, going uot to the park or to the movies, but waking up at eight because of Albino Alex was not really a good way to expend the day, even if it was entertaining watching her run around and trip.
But nature also forced him to wake up, with a bladder almost bursting and a dry mouth, Harry walked to the bathroom, tuning up the water to scalding hot, just how he liked it.
Juan had been an awesome guy, once you pushed past the creepy glasses flashing and the weird creations, some of which actually tasted great despite their appearance, and was the one who had taught him most of the tricks to win in the 64, it took away none of the frustration when he lost though.
Mara was also a good company, when she wasn't sleeping, her blunt personality and sloth-like enthusiasm were funny in a strange way, but she spent so much time sleeping, at least a quarter hour, every hour.
He had learnt to despise Miztli's sisters, the twins, well, not really despise, more like he cared nothing about them, and would not notice if they suddenly left his life, not life itself, just his.
He had only seen Miztli's older brothers once or twice, not nearly enough time to get a read on their personalities, nor enough to care about them either.
Mr. Gordillo was fun to be around, when he was around he was the one that made the jokes with no discretion, but he was holding back whenever Harry, Alex and Mara were around.
He would understand after he went through puberty, according to the man.
Miss Garza, Cati, as he constantly had to reminding himself she wanted to be called by him, was the closest thing to a mother he had ever had, as he did not remember his birth mother, and he had grown close to her in just the two weeks he had been in her house, because it was hers, by law and because she had control over it, and he would probably start calling her aunt, if the name did not carry bad memories, just as he would call mister Gordillo uncle if not for the memories.
That made him remember, he was twelve today, he couldn't really be called English anymore, he had spent exactly half his life in Mexico, the only thing that tied him there was blood, and a bank account if Flamel was to be believed.
He would have to go back one day, transfer his fortune to the Mexican magical bank, or maybe the mundane one, so it was at hand if he ever needed money, not that he planned to be sedentary, he would work for his living.
But it would be nice, having money of his own, not having to come up with ways to make money without having to brain storm for hours.
That and he did not want to go to the twins, creative as they were, for ideas for a business, they would probably make some pretty impossible ideas, or immoral, or both.
He would have to start searching for presents for them; their birthday was week before school.
Letting the last of the soap fall from his body, Harry shut the water and stepped out of the shower drying himself off and putting on his clothing for the day, a pair of dark jeans and a dark-green V-neck.
Once dressed, Harry walked down the stairs, blinking in confusion when he saw everyone in the house sitting at the table, where a mango roll cake was sitting.
Seems Miztli and Lucy had told them it was his birthday, great friends, especially because they got his favorite cake.
"Surprise!" everyone shouted once they realized he was already down, they then started singing the happy birthday song, while Harry just stood there, wondering what to do.
Alex, impatient as she was, stood up from the table and started dragging Harry forwards, where the candles of the cake were already lit, flickering because of the fan overhead.
"Make a wish," Lucy said once he was seated in front to the cake.
'If this is possible' he thought with his eyes closed, 'please don't make me return until after I've done my service*' he blew out the candles and picked up the knife to start cutting and serving.
Once everyone was served and seated, Harry went to take a bite out of his piece, only to be shoved into it by Miztli, who smiled and patted his shoulder when he looked up, his face full of dressing.
Friend he may be, Miztli knew that Harry would take revenge.
He would enjoy the day while it lasted though.
*August thirteenth*Santa Maria de Fatima orphanage*Quintana Roo*
Harry lay down on his bed at the orphanage, finally finishing with his unpacking after spending four weeks at the Gordillo's, probably the best month he'd have for the rest of the year, and turned to his familiars, both of whom were curled up by his side.
Kaan was growing really fast, by the time Christmas came he would probably be two meters long and thick enough that anyone would notice him, hiding under Harry's clothing or not, he would only keep from being noticed if he hid under the cloak Harry used during school time.
Itzmin was no longer a pup, if anything he could be compared to bulldog with how big he was, easily passing his shin and reaching his knee, it would not be long until the grey wolf would be too big for normal dog cages for travel.
He would probably go to Professor Gutierrez for a collar that could be used to hide both of them under an invisibility field, so it would be easier to hide them when needed.
The two could not really hide under his bed at the orphanage any more.
Maybe he would ask at the trunk shop of the magical tianguis if there was a way to make them a habitat inside a trunk, he was sure that Itzmin would appreciate it when they had to come back at Santa Maria.
Kaan was a magical animal, he was sure that his father would teach him how to bend the air around him so he could camouflage himself.
He would also have to increase the time he spent in the library, without his friends noticing, in search of the ritual that would allow him to talk with the death.
He knew it was foolish, wanting to meddle with the afterlife, but he had to meet his parents, consciously meet them, instead of just the vague memories-dreams he had about them.
But the picto-runes professor, probably the only one aside from the headmaster who knew how to perform effective and efficient rituals instead of the common ones everyone knew, was not forthcoming with information about it, having told him that she would not reveal anything to him unless he accepted that everything could go wrong when dealing with the god of death, instead of the possible good outcomes if he was to talk with the goddess of suicide and sacrifice about it.
But harry was nothing if not stubborn, he would learn how to contact them eventually, and he would fight a deity if he had to, if only to finally get closure.
*Somewhere in northern England*Longbottom manor*
Neville Longbottom was not having a good summer.
It had started well enough, with constant contact with his friends and visits from Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones, both of whom had a parent or aunt, in Susan's case, that was close to his own grandmother, the Regent Longbottom.
He didn't mind company, but he would be happier if Ron or Hermione could come to visit him, Susan and Hannah were gossips, and while he and Hannah connected because of their shared love for herbology, it was hard to look past the gossip.
Then, sometime during the fourth week of summer, all communication he had with Ron and Hermione had stopped, but he knew that no one was intercepting mail to the manor, because his grandmother still got the weekly statements from Gringotts and they received the Daily Prophet, but not card from neither Ron nor Hermione showed up.
They had stopped writing, or so it seemed.
Two days ago a little house elf, he was not sure who he served, only that it was from a dark house considering how bad it looked, had come to his room while he was tending to a difficult plant, a present from his grandmother for his birthday, and told him that Hogwarts was going to be deadly the upcoming year, and letting it slip that he, the elf, had been intercepting the letters from Ron and Hermione.
After threatening the elf with a petal from the plant he was tending to, the petals were venomous if not handled with utmost care and treated, the elf had gotten him in trouble with his grandmother, who had been having a tea party with Amelia Bones and Catherine Abbot, by using a variation of the hovering charm in the kettle with the tea and throwing it on the ground.
Neville had been trying to stop it, so when the adults saw him 'passing by' they assumed that he had thrown the kettle at them, so he had been grounded for two weeks.
At least he had resumed contact with Ron and Hermione, it made the punishment more bearable.
Don't you, my fellow writters, hate it when you have an idea but can't put it down in words, yeah, well that happened here, I took me three whole days to figure out how to write it, the longest I've spent in a chapter of this story, but it was easy once I got how to put down.