Magic? || Years 1-5

Visiting Noel: Year 4

"Do you think we could go down and visit my dad? I think he'd like to meet you," Amisty asked as they stepped out of the Three Broomsticks.

"I'd love to!" Hermione beamed, tightening her scarf around her neck as she peered across the village. "He lives by the cabins, right?"

"Yeah, Cabin Seventeen," Amisty nodded, looking over at where she assumed Harry was. "You up for it?"

"Sure, as long as his house is warm," Harry replied quietly.

So she lead the way through the villages and toward the cabins, counting down the copper numbers on the passing houses. Once again, the faint notes of the piano reached her ears, and her dad's house came into view.

The statue was still there, still and stone but incredibly realistic, and the candles were lit, spilling golden light across the wooden planks of the porch. She climbed up the steps, the wood creaking under her feet, and knocked on the worn door. Hermione and Harry were close behind her, looking around curiously.

"Dad, it's me!" She called, knowing her voice would carry through the slightly open windows.

"Coming!" He called back, the music of the piano pausing and following by the shuffling of feet.

The door swung open, and they were greeted by a very happy, very clean looking Noel. His hair wasn't a mess, his clothes were clean, and he looked well rested with an easy smile on his face and bright brown eyes.

"Hi, Amisty," He grinned down at her, and then looked over his shoulder. "Are these your friends?"

"Well, two of them," She nodded, hoping Harry would think she was only referring to Ron and not a certain Slytherin.

Hermione certainly knew, judging by the little smile she was sporting.

"Come in, come in," He stepped to the side, and the hurried inside, grateful to be out of the cold.

Now that she wasn't visiting there as if she were a stranger, and her emotions were far from angry and sad, she was able to take a better look around at the place her dad called home.

A fire roared in the hearth, flooding the cabin with warmth and light, and a couch and chair were sitting across from it, both made from well-worn leather. Photographs and paintings lined the walls, all moving and charmed. Wizarding pictures.

There were two doors off the to right, probably a bathroom and bedroom, and the kitchen was warm and inviting. A kettle was sitting on top of the stove, and wooden cabinets were overhead, presumably holding cups and bowls and plates, with the drawers underneath holding silverware.

"Would you like some tea?" Dad asked, clearly delighted at having visitors.

"No thank you, Mr. River," Hermione declined politely for all of them. "We just had Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."

"Ah, forgive me, but I forgot to ask your names," He grinned sheepishly, pulling up seats to the kitchen table and gesturing for them to sit.

"Oh, sorry, Dad," Amisty smiled faintly, before pointing at her friends. "That's Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Harry seemed to be bracing himself, but whatever he was waiting for didn't come.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you two over Amisty's letters," He beamed.

He was right. Over the summer Amisty had sent constant streams of information about what life was like at Hogwarts to make up for the time she wasn't able to talk to him.

In return, he answered all her questions about him, Echo, Haven, and anything else she was confused about.

It was rather helpful when it came to her summer assignments. Harry seemed relieved.