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Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Note : This idea came about from a number of different factors. I love the show Downton Abbey, the Leviathan showed me just how much fun playing with time travel is, and I had some interesting ideas for a Peaky Blinders crossover and activities for the Great War as a result that fit in rather better in this work. All told, I plan to have some fun here and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. 

Chapter One - The New Crawley

It was a quiet, peaceful, night like any other on number four privet drive. The street lights were dulled, houses were dark with the occupants asleep, and everything was as it always was. But that status was not to last for long as in the hours following the departure of a white bearded wizard the normal silence found itself broken by the keening wails of an infant in clear distress. Little Harry Potter, less than a year old, had been placed on the doorstep of his relatives by Albus Dumbledore in the hope that a set of blood wards tying him to the family's home would protect him from suffering harm from those in the magical world that might wish him ill. The problem with that plan, one that someone who believed in the natural goodness of people could never have foreseen, was that it did nothing to protect him from those that were already within the ward line. In another world, in another life, Petunia would have gone out to bring the unfortunate boy inside where it was warm, if only to keep his cries from alerting the neighbors to any strangeness surrounding her family. But in this world the woman and her husband agreed that it was simply better to leave him be and let nature take its course. 

One look out the window and they knew who the baby was. They knew what he represented. And they wanted nothing to do with it. They were heavy sleepers, as many in the neighborhood knew, and it was no skin off their back to wait it out and act like they’d not heard anything until it was too late. It wasn’t as if they’d been the ones who placed him alone outside in the cold. If the boy was still alive in the morning then he would be their problem. Until then, it was nothing to do with them. They had their own child to care for and held no urge to interact with the strange and unnatural. 

Out in the cold Harry continued to wail and to rage at the fate that he had somehow been placed in. He couldn’t even speak, but something inside him knew that a cold pain was closing in and that his body should not be so stiff and rigid. It also knew that he should instead be warm and held close by the woman with the red hair that sang to him and cooed softly in his ear. She wasn’t here for some reason, and he was hurting. She always came when he was hurting. 

So it was that he reached for what his mind knew of her. He reached for warmth, for softness, for loving cooing. He called to it with every fiber of his being, and with that effort something happened. Something listened. With such a need for survival his magic responded at once, but it wasn’t alone. With such great desire his magical core’s stores found another wellspring of magical might hidden within the new mark on his head, and in an instant he unconsciously consumed it in full, adding the fuel to the growing fire of his need. And then it all released at once. If you blinked you would have missed it. One moment the boy who lived was crying alone in front of a house in Britain, and the next he was… somewhere else. Somewhen else.

Manchester - 1902

Matthew Crawley, fresh at home after at last finishing university and earning his official certifications as a solicitor, was just sitting down for a hearty English breakfast with his mother when a horrid wailing began to sound just outside of their front door. He folded his paper closed upon the table and asked across the distance to his mother, “Are you expecting anyone this morning?”

Isobel Crawley set her tea down and looked curiously to the door. “Now that you mention it, I’m not expecting anyone. How odd. Would you go and see what is going on?”

“Of course.” Matthew slid his chair back and wandered to the door before yanking it open to reveal, of all things, an infant. A strong breeze was blowing wind and rain across his rapidly paling face so it was no wonder the lad was screeching to high heaven. “Good Gracious!” The new lawyer quickly knelt down, pulled the child into his arms, checked to make sure there was nothing more in the basket, and hurriedly ran back inside. “Mother! We need warm towels!” 

Isobel, drawing on years of experience as a nurse, quickly took stock of the situation and rushed to do as asked. In short order they had the baby boy swaddled, heated by towels, and snoozing easily within the easy rocking motion of Matthew’s arms. The mother and son spent about twenty minutes performing every test they could think of on the child but he seemed remarkably well despite being left out in the cold and rain.

Finally they heated a pan of milk, cooled it to an easy warmth, and mixed it with some porridge. Matthew spoon fed it slowly to the child while he rested in the crook of his arm. In spite of herself, the older woman couldn’t help smirking at the clearly enraptured look on her son’s face as he saw to the comfort of their uninvited guest. Had it really been just two weeks ago that he’d been assuring her that he was perfectly fine holding off on marriage and children until his late thirties, at least, to ensure he best used his time to advance in his new law firm, yet here he was becoming absorbed by his natural paternal instincts at the drop of a hat. 

“Well, Matthew, does the little one have a name?”

The blonde examined his bundle more carefully before replying with, “Was there anything in his basket?”

“It looked empty to me. I assume the wind and rain absconded with any note he might have had on his person.” 

“Hm.” Matthew noticed a stitch of gold on the corner of the baby’s swaddling blanket. He raised one corner of the red item and took in the word woven into the fabric. “Harry… that must be his name. Do we have any extended family that might have passed away recently?”

“No…” Isobel considered the quandary further and quickly came to a conclusion. “It must have been one of our distant relative's children born out of wedlock. That, or perhaps the unwanted child of one of my or your father’s old patients.”

“Excuse me!” Matthew gasped. 

“It makes perfect sense, son. I’m a nurse so of course whoever the parent was would know that I can see him taken care of. I have contacts that can see him housed. I also would never turn away a child in need. If someone were to have a baby in less than honorable circumstances there are far worse places to leave it than with me.” She eyed the enraptured look on his face and chuckled easily with mirth. “Or perhaps, in this case, with you.” 

“Me?” The solicitor stared wide-eyed at his mother. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Come now, Matthew,” she gestured to his still rocking arms and the possessive way he was clutching the boy to his chest. “You’ve only had him for a few minutes and you won’t even let me hold him. Can you honestly tell me you feel nothing for the boy?” 

“We’ve only just met him, mother. It’s natural that I’d want to see him safe before handing him off to others.”

“Would you like me to take him to the orphanage then?” She raised a brow.

“No!” Matthew immediately clutched the infant closer to his chest, an act that had the little one whining as his spoon was pulled free. At once the solicitor dropped to a knee, retrieved it, and gave it back to the boy. “I mean… we’ve all heard about those facilities. Filthy places, underfunded, and totally unsuited for a boy of clear means such as this. They’d pawn him off to a workhouse at the first opportunity, more than likely.” He shuddered at the thought.

“Oh really?” Isobel retrieved her tea and took a sip to buy herself time to formulate her next words. It honestly didn’t bother her that it had grown cool, Early Grey was a delight no matter its form. “So what would you suggest?”

“Surely you could take him? You’ve raised one son already, and quite well I should hope.”

Isobel shook her head. “I could perhaps help with the raising, but I’m far too old to look after a youngster like that alone, dear boy. No, we must find another solution. One that I think is already on your mind. “

At her knowing look, Matthew blushed and looked away, an act that unfortunately put his eyes right back on the little one, pushing his heart deeper and deeper in line with his new charge. And as he stared into those verdant orbs the man knew that he was lost. All the same, the last vestiges of his self-restraint reared their ugly heads to voice all the reasons why what his mother was suggesting could not possibly work. “I can’t… be a father. I’m too young.”

“Your father was three years younger than you when you were born.”

“I’ve only just finished my degree. The firm has only just hired me.”

“I’m happy to look after the child while you are at work. You won’t be doing this alone, son.” 

“I’m… not ready.”

“We never are.” The nurse placed a hand on his knee to offer a bit of comfort. “But I know you, Matthew. I know you better than you know yourself. That means I know that if given the chance you’ll be the best father this boy could possibly ask for. It also means that I know you’ve already made your choice about what to do next, you’re just afraid to admit it. So let me ask you this: Do you really think that this child will be better off anywhere but with you? And having met him, do you think you would be better off letting him go?” 

“No.” The word came out with painful finality. Matthew had made his choice. Gently pulling the empty spoon away and setting it on the table, he raised the boy up to the level of his eyes. “I don’t think I would be. Hello, Harry Crawley. I’m Matthew, and I’m your papa.” 

Nine Years Later

“Is he home yet?” Matthew burst through the front door and found his mother and the cook scurrying through the halls of their home with arms loaded for bear. A thick ham, mashed potatoes, leafy greens, and above all else an absolutely massive apple pie with ten candles burning along the surface. All Harry’s favorite foods. 

Isobel waited for her son to follow them into the dining room where she set the items down before turning back to face him, wiping her hands on her apron as she did. “Not yet, but by my watch school should have let out ten minutes ago. If I know our boy he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes out.”

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief at not missing such an important event and quickly divested himself of his coat, tossed it on a nearby chair, and ran to a particular loose floorboard under one of their cupboards where he retrieved a thick package wrapped in several layers of paper.

Isobel blinked at the sight. “Must you always make his gifts so difficult to open?”

“It’s all part of the fun, mother.” Matthew folded the parcel under his arm and reentered the hall, facing the door. “The harder it is to get at the surprise, the more Harry loves it when he finally finds out what it is. I swear, that boy is going to be a detective someday. Which is why he’s definitely going to love this.” 

“What is it?” Isobel reached his side and settled her arm in his. 

“You’ll have to wait and see the same as him.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t find it. Christmas presents haven’t been safe since he learned to walk.”

“I changed its hiding place eight times over the course of the last week.” Matthew smirked. 

“And you thought you wouldn’t be a good father.” The nurse teased as outside there came the sound of the spokes of a bicycle turning and their gate being unlatched. “He’s here.” Small feet pattered up the steps, the door opened, and a small boy with spectacles and a jagged scar on his forehead came inside, nearly jumping out of his shoes at the twin shouts of “Happy birthday, Harry!” 

Matthew opened his arms and a second later he had a wildly laughing boy nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of a flying hug. He laughed in kind at the act and hugged him right back before setting his son back on his feet. “Let’s see you, then. Ten years old, and my god, you’re almost a man.” Harry giggled at the praise as his papa put one hand over his head, moved it back to his own, and back again. “And almost as tall as me to boot.”

“You’re on your knee, papa.” 

“And so I am.” Matthew stood back up and handed his boy the parcel. “This is for you.”

“Yay!” Harry immediately began rotating it in his hands to try and find the intricate patterns of folding to unveil the trick that would free his birthday present. Meanwhile his papa picked him up and sat him at a chair in front of the pie. 

“While you work on that, Harry, perhaps you should make a wish so your Gram and I can start dishing the plates?”

At once Harry blew out the candles and his grandma began dishing plates as he continued working the puzzle of his present. Matthew observed him quickly figuring out the various tricks with pride. He’d studied books on origami during his lunch hour for eight weeks to create that puzzle and his boy was already halfway through. Yes indeed, his lad was a marvel and his grades reflected that in kind. Many of his teachers had remarked that they wanted to issue him some extra work to see if he could perform at a higher grade level and Matthew was legitimately considering allowing it, if only to see how his son did for himself. 

His observations were due to be interrupted, however, and the solicitor’s attention was drawn away by the shrill ringing of the bell. “Now who could that be?” He stood up and said, “Keep at it, Harry.” His boy’s tongue was peeking out the edge of his lips, all his focus on the task before him, as he continued working at the package. “You’ll get it eventually.” 

Leaving the room with a smile still stuck on his lips he went to the front door, pulled it open, and found the postman waiting with a thick envelope in his hands. “Sorry to bother you, Mister Crawley, I know this aint time for my usual rounds, but this came in special postage and it seemed mighty important.”

“It’s alright, Geoffrey.” Matthew took the envelope, flipped it open, and asked, “How are the kids?”

“Great!” the postman’s face lit up. “Molly has been getting really good at her letters lately. Thank you so much for having Harry tutor her last weekend.” 

“It was my pleasure.” the blonde man would have said more, but a moment later the contents of his letter registered in his mind for the first time and he begged a hurried goodbye before returning to the dining room.
His mother must have understood the shell-shocked expression on his face, for she asked, “Whatever is it, Matthew?”

He held up the letter. “I’ve just received a missive from the Earl of Grantham.”

“That old chestnut?” Isobel inquired. “Whatever could he want with you?”

“He… wants to change our lives.” Forcing a measure of calm over himself once more so as not to startle his son, who he saw had made it through the last of the wrapping even faster than he’d anticipated and was now delightedly hugging a first edition copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles to his chest, Matthew knelt before him. “Harry, how would you like to take a ride to the country this weekend?”

“What for, papa?”

“It seems we have some extended family that want to meet us, and I’m sure they’re going to absolutely adore you.”

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Chapter Two - Welcome To Downton

“Wow!” little Harry’s face was practically smooshed against the glass of their train car. “There’s so many cows!” 

Matthew chuckled over the edge of the paper he was reading to pass the time, and watched as his mother began explaining to the boy how this part of their country was primarily agrarian and that it wasn’t so strange to see large groups of animals wandering about between fields. He supposed it was true that his son had been a bit sheltered in Manchester and it really was his own fault for not taking him out on a holiday sooner. England was too small for this to be the first time the lad saw something as common as a simple farming beast. He’d add it to his list of things once he finally got established at his new firm and things at the estate settled into some form of normalcy.

Honestly it galled the solicitor to have the reigns of his life ripped free of his hands, but he had to admit that the last time that had happened he’d ended up with the greatest blessing of his life; a fact that his mother had reminded him of several times before boarding the train with a pointed look at the child. Her message was clear, and that was that bellyaching in front of Harry about their new circumstances and the ‘upper class snobs’ they were about to meet would be a horrible example to set for one still so young and impressionable. So he’d stomached his misgivings and instead focused on just how he would see things happen once they arrived. Oh yes, he would be firm, but not too unyielding. Harry needed to see him be willing to compromise. 

If he went into their situation all hot, bothered, and annoyed as his mother had no doubt suspected he would, then it would only provide his son the message that one could be brusk and full of themselves in someone else’s home. It was troublesome that it took him this long to come to that conclusion but there it was.

Seeing the final station coming up in the distance, Matthew folded his paper across his lap and patted the seat beside him. At once Harry bounded over and plopped down to listen to what he had to say. “Son, do you remember who we’re going to meet tonight?” 

The lad nodded. “Great Uncle Robert and Great Aunt Cora.” 

“Yes, and your great great cousins Mary, Edith, and Sybil. There is a possibility of the Dowager Countess as well. Now, do you remember your school’s Christmas jamberie?” Harry’s private boy’s school had a yearly open house and choir concert for the parents and families of the students, and it was the common practice for the children to show off their best dress and all the manners they’d learned while showing the family’s around. After all, one of the hallmarks of a good student was being a good gentleman as well. 

When Harry affirmed his remembrance Matthew explained, “You’ll need to use those self-same manners tonight. These people are very… fancy, and they’ll expect you to behave. I’ll be expecting you to behave as well. No running around or causing a ruckus, alright?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, papa.” 

“Oh, I know you will.” He squeezed his son’s shoulder lovingly and stood up to retrieve his valisse from the overhead rack. The man could feel the wheels slowing beneath him. It was time to meet the family.

A car met them outside the station and the trio was soon enough set up in Crawley House in the village. They had brought their cook and housekeeper with them from Manchester so the only new addition to their staff was a butler and valet named Mosely who quickly took charge of the wardrobes of both Matthew and Harry. The former would have normally had a few things to say about that… but he could appreciate the man helping Harry. Young boys were notorious for being difficult to dress and a seasoned hand was bound to save a boatload of time. 

Indeed, the balding man was setting out their outfits for the evening dinner within minutes of their arrival at the new home, freeing the family to enjoy a spot of tea. They were just dipping into their first sips when the maid came in and announced they had a visitor. The woman who followed behind her was perhaps one of the most beautiful Matthew had ever seen in his life. She was decked out in a firm riding dress that was paired with a black tophat sitting on coiled black curls. At the doorway the maid announced, “Lady Mary Grantham has come to visit.” 

The solicitor made to stand up to greet her but a tiny blur whizzed past him and a moment later he saw, to his astonishment and glee, his son bowing low to the new woman before taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. His delight came from the flabbergasted and slightly panicked look on the woman’s face. It was clear she had no idea how to handle a child and had not expected to find one here. Now that Matthew thought about it, the subject of his son hadn’t come up when the Earl of Grantham came to see him in London. Could the family honestly not know about him yet?

As his father was considering the state of things, Harry was trying like hell to remember all of the strict manners his teachers had drilled into him and the other boys at school. Releasing the woman’s hand he finally broke out his best smile and announced, “Hello, I’m Harry Crawley and it’s ever so nice to meet you. Did Edie say you were Lady Mary? That makes us cousins!” 

“C-Cousins?” Mary looked about ready to faint at the news paired with the ecstatic face of the boy in front of her. How could a child possibly be that cute!?!? She hated children, but this boy made some hidden instinct inside her want to bundle him into a giant bearhug. However, that would be utterly undignified. So, clearing her throat lightly, the heiress declared, “I am indeed Lady Mary Grantham, young man. I was not expecting to meet you, but I am glad to do so. Mostly I wanted the chance to meet the new family before dinner this evening.” So saying she looked back up at the adults and raised a single brow. 

Getting the message at once, Matthew at last finished rising from his chair and walked over to pull his boy away a few steps from their guest. “I’m Matthew, that is my mother Isobel, and you’ve already met my son, Harry.” He ruffled the child’s hair and smiled warmly as he melted into his side. 

“Son? Cousin Matthew, I was not aware that you were married.” Mary asked skeptically. She was sure this development would put a fly into the ointment of whatever nefarious plan her mother and grandmama were no doubt planning. 

“Oh, I’m not.” Seeing her confused look at that statement slowly turning into a frown of disapproval, he hastened to clarify, “He isn’t from a failed relationship if that is what you are thinking. No, Harry was left on my doorstep as an infant and I sort of… kept him. I couldn’t very well leave him in the cold, could I?” 

Mary seemed to consider that for a moment before shaking her head in the negative. “No, I suppose not. But is he your son in the legal sense or…” She trailed off leadingly.

Suddenly angry at the turn this conversation had taken, Matthew gruffly shot back, “If you mean, is Harry my legitimate heir, then the answer is yes. As far as the law is concerned he is my firstborn and will inherit anything I’m fortunate enough to leave him. I made sure of that when I adopted him.”

Mary flinched visibly at the turn of his tone, and then covered her shock with cool anger, as was her way. “Well, I think we’ve conversed more than enough until dinner. I’ll be sure to save a place beside me at the table for your little one.” And with that, she took her leave. 

“A bit stuffy, that one.” Isobel noted as Edie finally brought over a freshly warmed pot of  tea. 

“I liked her!” Harry countered. 

“You like everyone, you little scamp.” And because he was feeling sentimental the young lawyer ruffled his son’s hair some more before pushing him over toward Mosely. “But for now you should get bathed and take a nap so you’ll be perfectly awake for dinner tonight.”

“Aw, but I don’t want to take a nap!” 

“If you don’t then there will be no desert.” Matthew put on his most stern ‘dad’ face (that he may or may not have copied from memories of his own father) and smirked as the little one immediately scampered away in search of the room that had been set up for him. Turning to his mother he offered, “You know, I think after all this time I might finally be getting the hang of this parenting thing.”

Isobel merely smiled over the rim of her saucer. “Perhaps, my son. But always remember, I’ve been doing it longer. Perhaps you too should be going up for a nap, eh?” 

That Evening

As the view of Downton lit up with lanterns in the night came into view ahead of their carriage Matthew allowed himself a brief moment of awe. True, he saw the shanghaiing of his life’s trajectory as a great imposition, but even he could admit the idea of spending the rest of his days in a place so grand was… appealing. Beside him Harry was practically vibrating with excitement as his eyes locked onto a nearby building instead. 

“Papa, is that a stable? Do they have horses? Do we have horses!?!?!?” 

The solicitor held back a laugh at the boy’s eagerness and answered, “I’m sure the Granthams do have horses, Harry. They are nobility, and nobility are known for riding and hunting. The way things look they might be ours someday but I wouldn’t mention that tonight. It might make them unhappy.”

Looking far too serious for his young age, Harry nodded solemnly at those words. “I’d be sad too if someone was gonna take my horses away. I’ll be sure to give Mary a big hug so she knows we’re sorry.” 

“Proper grammar, dear.” Isobel lightly chided the youth. “I believe you meant to say, ‘going to take’ , didn’t you?” 

“Yes, Gram.” Harry blushed at being corrected, and not for the first time, and busied himself with making sure the white gloves Mr. Moseley had given him were snug and secure. It was such a grown up gesture that his papa and grandmother finally lost their composure and burst out laughing just as their horse-drawn cart wound to a stop before the front doors of the mansion. 

The trio descended the steps together and approached the front doors where a line of serving staff were waiting to welcome them with firm bows. Normally Matthew would have scoffed at the useless gesture of austereness but, ever mindful of the example he was setting for Harry, he simply folded his hands behind his back and led the way into the mansion proper, nodding to every server as he did along the way. 

Once inside, the small family was subjected to a person-by-person introduction of the Earl, his wife, his mother, and all of his daughters. “Well, this is quite the welcoming committee.” Flat stares met his statement and Mattew was forced to come to the conclusion that these people simply did not know good cheer and humor when they heard it. 

Seeking to ease the awkwardness they all now found themselves in, the Earl made to gesture them all into the dining room… only to suddenly take note of the rather small head of black hair standing just behind his new heir’s legs. “Excuse me, Matthew, but just who is this that you’ve brought with you?”

The blonde man blinked at the question and turned to look at Mary, who only winked mischievously back at him. So, she’d wanted to surprise the others as she had been surprised. That girl just kept getting more interesting. Gently pulling his nervous child out from the cover of the long tail of his coat so everyone could see him in full, he proudly explained, “This is my son. Harry Crawley.” 

“H-Hello, everyone.” The boy squeaked, more than a bit frightened by how pale everyone seemed to be getting at his presence. So, as he always did when uncomfortable, the little one fell back on his tried and true method of dealing with conflict. Kill them with kindness and hugs! In a blink he had crossed twelve feet of richly carpeted flooring and he was glomping himself to the skirts of the gray haired Dowager woman that seemed the most out of sorts. “I’m so happy to meet all of you! I always wanted more family!” 

The Dowager flailed for a moment before regaining her balance and looking frantically around for anyone to intercede on her behalf. When no one did, (and was Robert actually  chuckling?!?!?!?) she looked down at the little one clinging to her skirts and gently patted his head as if he were a dog. That seemed to do the trick as the child at last pulled away, beamed up at her, and scurried back to his apparent father’s side. The Dowager blinked. She couldn’t believe it but for a moment while she’d been patting his head that little boy had appeared to be just as darling as her granddaughters. Preposterous. “L-Let us perhaps proceed with the dinner?” The stately woman managed to get out, pointedly not noticing the smirks of the girls as she led the way into the dining room proper. 

Along the way Matthew repeated his explanation for Harry’s existence that he’d already given to Mary and the group all moved to sit on the finely upholstered chairs while the servants started to circle them with platters of fine food. 

Throughout the meal they all maintained a common enough vein of conversation. Light backgrounds, what was the village like, how were they settling in, what was Harry’s favorite subject in school? When the family heard he loved to read Robert was only too happy to let him know about the family library along with the fact that he had open access to it whenever he should like. The boy’s smile at that bit of information practically lit up the room, and though his existence was a shocking surprise, none of the family present could deny the warmth they felt within at the sight of it. 

Across the table, Cora was taking in the sight of the new family with a mixture of both despair and delight. Despair because with an heir of his own Matthew was less likely to look twice at any of her daughters, but delight because that same little boy reminded her so much of all the dreams she’d once had of the boys she’d wanted to provide Robert in the early years of their marriage. She loved Mary, Edith, and Sybil, she truly did, but a part of her heart had always stayed with the boy that had never been. It helped that Harry was so exuberant and delightfully lovable. Even the normally straight-faced Thomas was sporting a true grin as he bent lower than normal to allow the little one to serve himself from the tray like he was one of the grown-ups. The child was proving to be quite the balm to the rocky shoals of their two families, and whenever the conversation stalled or grew too awkward he would chirp in with questions about life on the estate and what it was like to go hunting on horses. He was especially interested in the horses. 

Sensing an opportunity to perhaps put her girls into the new heir’s life another way, Cora offered, “You know, Mary is our most experienced rider in the family. Would you perhaps like to take a lesson with her later this week, Harry?” 

“Boy, would I!” 

The Lady of Downton smirked at her daughter’s flabbergasted expression. Yes, she’d seen the look on the girl’s face when Harry was introduced and this was certainly a delightful form of payback for her dirty little trick of withholding that information. “Are you taking lessons in the village or perhaps boarding back in Manchester?”

“He’ll be transferring here.” Matthew answered for him. “With all the tumult of moving and our new… station, I thought it might be a good idea to keep him close for a while.”

“Excellent,” Cora chuckled merrily, “I happen to know the schoolmaster ends his classes early on Wednesdays so he can grade the assignments from earlier in the week. I’ll send the car to the school for you and then Mary can give you the basics of horsemanship along the grounds.” She raised a cool eye to her clearly affronted eldest. “And I expect the lesson will be quite thorough. Young man, we’ll make a fine horseman of you yet.”

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Note : Some people have already noted the similar timeline to Peaky Blinders… It is ‘interesting’ isn’t it?

Chapter Three - Can I Hold Your Hand? 

Mary found herself unsure of how her current circumstance was shaping up. She’d been all set to huff up a storm at being saddled with training a tiny person in how to ride the majestic beasts she cared for in her stables, yet when Harry had arrived for their lesson looking so dapper in pressed corduroy pants and a white buttoned-up shirt she couldn’t help but smile at how exultant and exuberant he seemed to be for the simple fact of being in her mere presence. 

The boy listened with rapt attention as she explained all the intricacies of how to mount a horse, steer it, and maintain manners of safety and dignified poise while in the saddle. He even held no issues with feeding the animals fruit out of his hand to aid in bonding with them. Honestly, Mary couldn’t help the completely un-ladylike giggle that escaped her lips at the rapturous smile on his face as the boy’s horse chewed an apple from his fingers. Harry was just so… darling. 

“Well, Harry, are you ready to try taking her out for a ride?” 

All at once the child’s rapture escaped his face and he began gently wringing his hands in front of him. “N-N-Now? C-Can’t we just walk them around a bit first?” 

The noble lady took in the child’s changed demeanor and suddenly understood. Lowering herself to kneel in front of him, she took his trembling hands in her own. “Harry, are you scared of riding old Chester, here?” 

“O-Of course not, Cousin Mary.” Harry defended himself, his cheeks turning red at the insinuation. He didn’t pull his hands away though. “I’m a man, and men never get scared.” 

Mary chuckled behind the veil of her free hand and then reached up to fondly ruffle his hair. “That isn’t my experience, Harry, and I’m willing to bet I’ve met more men than you. But you know what, it’s alright to be a little wary of riding. I was scared my first time in the saddle as well.” 

“R-Really?” He looked up at her with so much hope that her heart literally began to become sore from exposure to the cuteness. 

“Really really. Is it the height that worries you so?” The child’s gulp was answer enough, and Mary more than understood. Most people didn’t think about just how tall a horse truly was until they were standing right next to it. For a child, especially, the idea of actually riding one must seem like trying to mount a giant. “Let me try something. Stay here.” 

The elder Crawley walked over to a neighboring stall where her normal mount, Buttercup, was waiting. It was a short matter for her well-practiced hands to have the animal saddled, and then she walked her over to rest next to Chester. “Let me help you.” Making sure her body displayed her calm so her student could see how ‘okay’ everything was, she helped Harry up into his saddle, then swung up sidesaddle into her own. “Just stay next to me as we ride and watch what I do. If we do the same thing then nothing can go wrong, right?” 

“R-Right, but…” He trailed off shyly. 

Mary, deeply curious, turned Buttercup around so she was facing him once more. “Yes, Harry?”

“Can I… can I hold your hand?” 

Mary mentally squeed as she physically forced her face to remain strict, and her heart to slow… while still gently reaching her gloved fingers out for him to take. “There now, is that better?” 

“Boy, is it!” 

The two slowly cantered out into the field to continue their lesson in the sun. 

Two Hours Later

Mary was all smiles as she entered the doors of Downton… until she saw her mother and grandmother seated at a table in the main hall with matching saucers of tea and twin cheshire grins on their faces. 

Schooling her features once more, the younger woman strutted over to the table, slid into the free seat, and grasped the tea cup Anna presented to her. As always, her personal maid was always present when she was needed. “You two seem very pleased with yourselves. Whatever is on your minds?” 

Typical for the elder woman, the Dowager Countess spoke before her hostess. “You and young Harry seemed quite… tender. Could it be you’ve found your mothering instincts?” 

Mary huffed and took a quick sip of her Earl Grey. “Hardly. Don’t be ridiculous, grandmother. I was merely seeing to the riding lesson that mother assigned for me.” 

At that, Cora did speak. “And that lesson required holding his hand during the entire outing?”

“He… He said it made him feel safe.” Mary said at last. 

Cora chuckled lightly with mirth and offered, “If you were looking for a way to get closer to the father, entrancing the son is rather genius. The boy already sees you as an authority figure.”

“I have no interest in Matthew at all.” Mary sniffed. “I merely find young Harry to be… agreeable company. And teaching him to ride has certainly helped me spot some flaws in my own technique, so really the whole practice is a boon for my benefit rather than his.”

Violet Crawley nodded stoically at those words. “Yes, I too have found the young one to be of… unique temperament.” Internally she was thinking about how nice the little one’s hug had been at their dinner.

Mary added, “Besides, the issue of Matthew might not be such a heavy handed matter soon enough.” 

That got the Dowager’s attention, right quick. “Truly? And how do you figure that?” 

“Well,” Mary reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled free the letter she’d received from the post office earlier that day. “If papa is set on allowing our new cousin to steal my inheritance then my only recourse is to marry into another one. It just so happens that I’ve been keeping a correspondence with the heir of a certain title, and he has expressed an interest in hunting our famed grounds.”

The former heiress unfolded the letter and slid it over to her grandmother for inspection. “Evelyn Napier, the heir to the Viscountship of Branksome, is touring the area and it is well known that he has a love for the hunt. I couldn’t possibly let him pass by without enjoying the experience our lands have to offer in that regard.” 

Cora gently set her cup down. “Well, if anyone knows how to entice a young suitor with a letter it is you, darling. But is he aware that you shall no longer inherit the estate? I believe more than one of your choices in the past have neglected to receive your missives any longer for just that reason.” 

“Well, mother, it is common knowledge by this point amongst those who matter. Father has not made it a secret with his friends in the peerage that he plans to favor Cousin Matthew’s claim, so a full disclosure is far from necessary any longer. However, I believe the prestige of the Crawley name being tied into his bloodline might be just enough to secure the match if I entice him in just the right way. After all, should Cousin Matthew not have any children…” 

“I thought he said he’d arranged for Harry to inherit after him?” Cora noted with open confusion coloring her voice.

The Dowager Countess’s gloves tightened on the head of her cane as her granddaughter's unvoiced argument started to come together in her political mind. “He may think that is the case, and in an average city or county where normal law holds sway he might even be right. However, matters involving estates and titles such as ours are something else entirely. Though I’m sure young Matthew is a very good lawyer, he surely lacks experience with the intricacies of peerage law. He may not like it, but blood will win out eventually. It always does; even if it takes a few generations to sort itself out. And in this, Mary might be right. Her children, if brought to the parliament in a formal application, might just eke out a more favorable outcome than an adopted son. Our family name still holds weight with the nobility in the end and nobody with position and property would likely want to think about a possibility of losing out on their own inheritances in the future because of some poorly written document giving priority to an outside bloodline.” 

“It seems an awful lot to risk on chance.” Cora muttered. “I still think you should move your focus to Matthew. It is by far the safest and most secure option.” 

“If all else fails, then that is always a fallback avenue, mother.” Mary stated primly as she took another sip of her rapidly cooling tea. “But I will not so easily fall into the trap papa has forced me into. If there is a way out of it first then I must do everything in my power to find it.” 

Any further conversation on the subject was halted as the door opened once more and the patter of young feet came careening in their direction. It wasn’t long before the trio of women spotted Harry’s dark head of hair as he rounded the corner and finally spotted them. “Cousin Mary!” He cheered and scampered over to the table just as Anne, reliable as always, swept a chair behind him for the lad to sit on. “I did everything you said. The horses are stabled, they have food in their troughs, and I brushed all of their manes out really well.” 

“I’m sure you did.” Mary offered a slow smile and gestured to her maid to pour him a cup of tea. “I had assumed that you would go home afterwards.” 

“Papa is still at work and Grandmother is touring the hospital.” The boy answered simply, taking a sip and smiling so wide at the taste that it made even the reserved Anna blush. “I like Mr. Moseley, but I’d rather spend time with you.” 

“Touring the hospital?” The Dutchess gasped, and almost stood up to rush over and show that upstart nursing woman what was what… but stopped when she saw just how happy the child was to simply be sitting with them. For some crazed reason, she had the intuitional feeling that leaving then would make him sad, and she just couldn’t stand the thought. All the same, she couldn’t stop herself from sniping, “Does she intend to try and run the place, then? The nerve.” 

Harry took another sip, cringing a bit as he accidentally nipped his tongue on the hot liquid. “I don’t think so. Grandmother never said anything about wanting to run anything. I think she just wants to help. She likes taking care of people, you know? Sitting at home would just make her sad.” His smile slipped a little as he finished with, “I wouldn’t want her to be sad. Would you, Great Aunt?” 

Violet let loose with a good-natured, and completely dignified, huff and sipped her tea to stall for time (the usual method of nobility when they needed a moment to collect themselves). The lad had artfully ruined any argument she might have, and he hadn’t even been trying. Oh the great Wit she could nurture in him if given the time. “I suppose that I wouldn’t either. Life is too short for depression.” 

Deciding a change of subject was in order, Cora reclaimed the child’s attention by saying, “It is a good thing you’re working on your horsemanship so soon, Harry. We are currently planning a bit of a hunting event soon and riding is a key part of the practice. Would you like to come along? Perhaps you could ride with Mary.” 

“Yay!” 

“Mother!” Mary exclaimed with shock. She’d been planning on using that time to woo a new suitor, but she at once took note of the downcast look her exclamation had brought to Harry’s face and immediately deflated her former ire. The sheer dejection the boy was radiating was simply heartbreaking. At once she took his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Harry. That was just a shock response, and it was completely unbecoming of me. I would of course love to have you ride with me on the hunt. A good gentleman partner is hard to find after all.”

Cora, already making plans in her mind for how she would arrange to let Matthew see her daughter being so besotted with his son, noted, “I’ll arrange for a proper hunting outfit to be fitted in your size, Harry. When the hunt comes around you’ll be made up even better than our visitors.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t want to do that.” Harry shook his head vehemently. “It would be rude to your guests. They’re coming for fun, right? Wouldn’t they want to look the best?” 

“Right.” Cora allowed. “But you looking dapper will do nothing to diminish them. As a bonus, I rather think you and your father would make the dashing pair if we made a matching outfit for him too. It’ll be a few weeks yet before our guests arrive so there’s plenty of time for Mr. Moseley to take both of your measurements.” 

And after the child left to return to his home that was exactly what she set about making sure happened. The middling-years butler was only too thrilled to have a chance to cater to his young charge’s wardrobe further, and adding the elder master’s into the mix was a dream come true. Even though Matthew would later beg off the hunt in favor of a pressing business meeting in the city, when the event itself finally arrived a few weeks later, Moseley ensured that his young master was looking just as posh and professional as anyone else present could attest to be. 

So it was that the morning of the hunt Harry exited the cart in front of Downton wearing a smart tweed riding suit with a noble red outer jacket resting over his shoulders. He was also wearing an extra padded riding helmet, at his grandmother’s insistence, but he took that off at once when he saw the gaggle of people were already gathered on the lawn beside nervously stepping horses and none of them were wearing their own safety gear yet. 

He was already feeling a bit out of place and didn’t want to appear any more so. That feeling quickly went away, however, when he finally found Cousin Mary standing at the edge of the group beside a pair of waiting mares. Harry ran over at once and saw that she was maintaining that fake stern look she was always doing. Well, he knew how to handle that. 

One moment Mary was searching the crowd for the first glimpse of her intended target for marriage, and the next she found herself nearly bowled to the ground by a flying hug-tackle courtesy of her newest cousin. “Oof.” She tottered on her boot heels for a second before regaining her balance, and couldn’t help laughing as she recognized the insanity of what had just happened. Such an undignified action in front of noble guests… it was so ‘out’ of the ordinary as to border on hilarious. 

So it was that she soon found herself mounted on her mare beside her cousin with a distinctly un-ladylike case of the giggles while Harry held her hand like a lifeline. It was to that visage that Evelyn Napier himself came upon while cantering up to offer a greeting. It was clear the nobleman didn’t really know how to take a woman existing in her feelings, so Mary forced herself to calm down and curtsy on the saddle-top.

“Apologies for my outburst, Mr. Napier. My cousin had just informed me of a delightful joke and I couldn’t resist a laugh.”

“Cousin?” the man turned his rather bony face to the youth at his potential intended’s side. “Ah, so this must be that new Crawley I’ve been hearing about. A bit younger than I imagined.” 

Mary sighed and quickly explained, “No, that would be his father. When my mother heard about our riding lessons she insisted that he should come along to experience a true English Hunt for the first time. You don’t mind him coming with us, do you?” 

“Oh, not at all. I brought my own guest after all so this is only fair, I suppose.” Evelyn smiled warmly at the youth and cantered over to shake his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Harry.” 

“You too, sir.” The youth responded in kind. 

“Well I certainly can’t wait to show you the ropes.” The nobleman continued. “My elder brother taught me everything I know about hunting, and I’m happy to pass it on to someone else. Kemal certainly doesn’t care to learn.” 

Mary remembered her mother mentioning the foreign ambassador that would apparently be joining her target for the day’s excursions. “And where is this Mr. Pamuk?” 

“Still getting dressed.” Napier answered. “Honestly, I find him to be a bit of a dandy. Very particular about his clothing. The man won’t even let my valet dress him.” 

“That’s not very nice.” Harry spoke up for the first time in their conversation. “That’s the valet’s job right? It’s like he’s saying the man isn’t good enough at his tasks to do them properly.” He’d learned of this mindset by asking Mr. Moseley what he liked most about his job. The valet had insisted that he felt intense pride every time his master was seen out in public perfectly dressed and presentable. It was a show to everyone around that the man of standing had men of good quality at his side to help him get ready for the day.

“Quit right. An exceptional understanding, young man. However, Kemal is simply too stubborn and, dare I say, foreign, to understand that. His people don’t think as ours do, so I suppose he can’t be expected to know any better.” 

“Oh the horror.” Mary remarked dryly. “Though I suppose we shall have to keep a weather eye on him to ensure a random throw of the horse doesn’t endanger world peace.” 

Napier waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about the man. For all my griping he does know his way around a horse. I expect we shall be just fine. In fact, look, here he comes.” 

Mary didn’t know what she’d expected of a foreign diplomat, but it certainly wasn’t a beautiful man with liquid black hair and skin tanned to an olive hue. She was so engrossed by his appearance, in fact, that she only noticed something was wrong when she felt her cousin’s hand begin to tremble within her own. Looking down at his abnormally serious features, she asked “Harry? Is something wrong?” 

Surprisingly it was Napier that answered for him. “Ah, I expect he just had what we men call ‘ a sudden judgment ’. Basically when you see a person for the first time and just get a ‘feeling’ about him. I had much the same reaction when I first met Kemal.” 

By then the man had seen they weren’t waiting on him, and had instead turned his mount to address the Earl, providing their little trio with enough room to continue speaking in private. “You don’t like him, Evelyn?” Mary gasped. “Is that sort of opinion even allowed for his national host?” 

“Probably not, but it’s there. Honestly, Mary, I want you to watch out for Kemal while we’re out today. I wouldn’t have mentioned it before, but given present company,” he looked pointedly at Harry, “I think it’s important to know who you’re out with. There have been… rumors about his behavior since coming to this country. Rumors of the unsavory sort.”

“Unsavory? How so?” 

Napier shot a pointed look to the innocent visage of her cousin and quickly abbreviated the situation with, “Rumors involving his treatment of… women. As his host, I haven’t seen him personally do anything unforgivable, but there are stories from past hosts that paint a bad picture, and it is rather crass to admit, but the way he speaks about the fairer sex in private is, well, ‘foreign’ is putting it lightly. Just be careful.” 

For his part, Kemal Pamut had been intent on making a move on the attractive rider on the green the moment he saw her. However, his host was currently cantering around at her side, along with a small child. Hardly the proper situation to ply his charms. Well, he decided that staying in the home would offer him plenty of chances in the near future. After all, he wanted her, and he was very used to getting the things that he wanted….

That Evening

The troupe of weary riders returned from the hunt in remarkable spirits and tired bodies. They’d been out all afternoon with the dogs baying, the horses running, and bugle sounds filling the air. Evelyn had been as good as his word in showing Harry how to properly ride with the hunt, and by the end their group had managed to snag a pair of quality red deer and the participants were leaving their mounts with the grooms with nothing but fond words on their lips as they bade goodbye to their hosts and started off back to the town. 

The exceptions being Evelyn and Kemal who had already set off toward Downton to wash up and change for dinner. Mary had expected Harry to be shuttled off back to his home, and was thus rightly surprised when she found her mother of all people coming over to show him up the steps to Downton. “Mama, what are you doing?” 

Cora blinked back at her daughter and asked, “Did I not tell you? Drat, I knew I was forgetting something. Isobel sent a runner up while you were all out asking if we wouldn’t mind hosting young Harry for the night since he was already going to be up here anyway. Apparently she has been diverted to the hospital to help the doctor with one of our tenants and doesn’t want him to be lonely since Cousin Matthew is staying over in the city.” 

“Oh.” Mary supposed that made sense enough. “Well he’s welcome to have the seat next to me at dinner.” 

“Yay!” Harry cheered at the very thought. And so it was, after seeing the outburst and becoming rather amused by it, Thomas the footman was waved over by the mistress of the house to see to him. Though they were only walking through the halls for five minutes before the duo were waylaid by the lads' questions about everything he saw. 

Now, Thomas had never thought himself someone to care a bit for children, but the lad was just so earnest, and he had all the same questions that a boy of lessor means would likely possess, along with normal excited reactions that he’d never seen on the faces of the nobility in all of his years. And the boy spoke to him as… as if he were another human, and not a part of the furniture. 

This continued on for a while until they reached the floor where the lad would be rooming along with the other residents of the home, wherein Harry asked a question that floored the Footman all the more, for it was one specifically about him. “You know so much about Downton, Mr. Thomas. How long have you been here?” 

The service worker cleared his throat, unused to being directly addressed by the peerage outside of his usual guide duties, and answered, “Several years, Sir. In fact, I believe my father brought me to be apprenticed here when I was about your age.” 

“Wow!” Harry’s eyes were nearly sparkling at that bit of news. “Then you must be the longest serving footman here!” 

Thomas grinned. “Indeed I am. Certainly I’ve been here longer than that stumbling oaf Mr. Bates.” He bit his tongue at once, the familiarity of the conversation had caused him to say too much! But far from being outraged or offended, the boy merely looked curious. 

“Mr. Bates? Uncle Robert’s valet? But that makes no sense. Mr. Moseley has been teaching me how the servers all rank-”

“He has?” Thomas blinked at such an outlandish lesson for one such as Harry to employ. It was startling enough to have him interrupting the child’s flow of speech; something Mr. Carson would no doubt have had him scrubbing floors for for a month should he ever learn. 

Though, as was proving oddly common, Harry again took no offense for a slight that would have sent any other noble person to steaming. 

“Yes, he has. I was curious about what you all do here so I asked him what all your clothes mean and how you go about your business. By the way, it seems ever so difficult an occupation, so thank you for doing it. This place runs so well because of your work!” 

“T-Thank you, young sir.” 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Thomas! But back to what you were saying; if Mr. Bates just got here, then how come you weren’t made the valet? You have seniority.” 

Thomas shrugged, utterly at a loss for how to actually handle a situation like this with his usual good grace and separation. “Mr. Bates apparently served with Lord Grantham in the war, and he desired a hand he knew to manage him going forward. I served in the interim until Bates arrived, but afterward… I was relegated back to being a footman.”

“But that’s not right!” Harry waved his hands ecstatically over his head, so great was his childish (and rather adorable) outrage. “You put in the work! You earned it!” 

“It is what it is, young master.” Thomas attempted to calm the youth, but his efforts met with no success, as the boy simply continued with a statement that floored him more than any other. 

“You know what, I’m going to ask Uncle Robert if you can be my valet.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest and stomped his foot with finality. Something he’d seen his father do more than once when giving a lecture (often to him about sneaking cookies from the kitchen, but Grandmama knew and never said anything so surely it was fine). 

“Y-You what? But you have Mosely.” 

“No, my father has Mosely. I like him, and he helps me, but it isn’t fair to make him look after two people at once. You should be a valet, and I need one, so why shouldn’t you be mine? Unless… do you not want to be my valet?” 

“I-I would be honored, sir.” 

“Then that’s that.” Harry’s smile lit up bright enough that Thomas would have sworn to any that asked that his teeth were literally glowing, and he held out a hand to shake. When the Footman did so, Harry asked, “Well, Valet Thomas, would you please help me get ready for dinner?” 

And that’s just what he did. Experiencing a rush of prideful energy, Thomas had the lad ready in record time and looking as posh as it was possible for him to appear. If this was to be the first presentation of his new master while in the boy’s service, then he would ensure that the fruits of his work were perfectly apparent for all to see. The hardest part had been Harry’s wild, and impossible, hair, but a more-than-likely-healthy dose of product had seen the problem handled rather nicely. 

Of course when he went back down to the kitchen to help with serving the meal Carson tried to read him the riot act for being gone, but when he provided a written note from Harry the crotchety old man sulkily backed down. For once, things looked like they were finally going his way… 

Meanwhile

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Harry.” Robert had listened to the child’s plea to take Thomas the footman into his service, and honestly it solved a number of problems for him. Carson had been telling him for years that the senior service employee was getting more and more annoyed at his lack of advancement and, yes, he could have solved it by making him his man when the position opened, but… Bates had been available, and his war buddy was just someone he felt more comfortable with. Was it unfair? Yes. But that was life. 

“I’ll talk to Carson after the meal and arrange to have his things sent over to your home in the morning. He can start looking after you now though if you’d like.” 

“I would. Cousin Mary says he’s very good at his job and I like him. He seems nice.” 

“If you say so, young man.” With his problem now taken care of, Robert was certainly not going to bring up any of the rumors of the man having a bracing personality. “But did you have fun today on the hunt?” 

“Boy, did I! I’ve never ridden that fast before!” 

Robert chuckled easily at the exuberance on the youth’s face and fondly ruffled his hair before letting him get back to his meal in peace. It was just as Cora had told him. Having the boy at Downton… was almost like they’d imagined having a son of their own around to be like. It was downright delightful. 

The rest of the meal went by with relative peace, the final course being venison from the beasts they’d managed to bag during their festivities. Afterward Harry had begged to stick around for cigars with the adults, but Robert had gotten the evil eye from his wife and immediately told the lad that he was still a tad bit too young for such things, and that he should instead get up to bed. An order made more sure when Harry began to yawn with ever increasing frequency. The Earl nodded toward Thomas to take him up to his room; a chance for the new valet to begin his duties a bit early. 

That Night

Kemal Pamut grunted with annoyance as he bumped into yet another wall. His plan had been, originally, to attempt to blackmail a server into showing him the backroom passages to the living quarters of Downton, but no chance had presented itself at any point when he was alone with one to gain leverage. Indeed, his assigned Footman had been a young ginger lad that had been so nervously proper as to clearly be completely unreliable for any secret task he might have hinted at. 

So, for lack of better options, he’d exited his room in the pitch blackness of night on his own to attempt a hand at navigating his way to the target of his desire. Mary Crawley. A scrumptious example of a dignified English Lady, and the perfect quarry to end his European Tour taming. However, he couldn’t risk lighting a candle and being seen, so he kept running into every conceivable obstacle in sight. It was as if the universe itself were attempting to get in his way. 

All the same, after an hour of stumbling about his bare feet finally made contact with the rich texture of finely made carpet and the walls smoothed into the ornate feel of well artisaned framing. At last he’d reached the living quarters. He and the other guests had been three floors lower so it had been a veritable bitch getting here, but no doubt his conquest would make it all worth it in the end. Of course there was the chance the girl would refuse him, but such an outcome had never occurred yet; and even if she did, what was her recourse? Raise her voice and scream at him to leave? It would be a scandal. The heiress of Grantham found alone in her room with a visiting male? The rumors would destroy any possibility of a real marriage match in the future. Yes, he’d get his own in the end, of that there could really be no doubt. 

But the question now became, just where was the girl’s room located? Hm… A little more questing around revealed a large pair of double doors that no doubt led to the master bedroom where the Earl and his wife resided, and on the wall branching off next to it were a series of single doors that spaced off along an incredibly long wall back to the hall. The most likely outcome he could imagine was that these were the family member’s rooms, and what better place for the eldest to be housed than in the room closest to her parents?

With a smile of confident triumph working its way onto his face, Kemal turned the handle on the door in question, pushed it in, and flicked on the nearest light switch. “Do not scream, my little dove, I desire only-” 

“Ah!!!!!!!!!!!” 

The Next Morning

Evelyn Napier could be seen haranguing his still shell-shocked guest all the way back to town as his horse chased the foreigner’s buggy fast enough to kick up dust. The scandal the bastard had raised at the end of a perfectly good hunt was horrendous, and threatened to derail the peace talks! As the nobleman promised himself yet again to write as many apology letters to the unfortunate boy as it took to make things right, and to provide anything else he may ask for in the future (for his honor would demand nothing less), he screamed for perhaps the tenth time at Pamut: “No matter where you come from, Kemal, creeping into a child’s room in the middle of the night is a crime! I don’t care for the consequences against my political career, I am having you deported!!!!!!” 

Meanwhile

Harry was still shivering with fright as Lady Cora held him bundled in blankets and rocked him on the couch of their library. The noblewoman could commiserate with his current state, knowing full well the fright he must have undergone. She and Robert had elected to have the boy swap rooms with Mary to keep him close in case he needed anything in the middle of night. How could they have known that that villainous monster would come calling on him when no one was aware? 

But the child had reacted at once; screaming in fright at the intrusion and ringing the bell beside his bed for all he was worth once he realized what was happening. Robert himself had utilized the training learned from his time in the military and tackled the deviant from behind before throwing him out of Downton onto the lawn and demanding Napier take custody of him until the morning when they would vacate the property with all of their belongings post haste. Neither was welcome to return in the future. The foreigner for what he had clearly been attempting to do, and the nobleman for having the gall to bring such a man into their lives in the first place. 

“Easy, Harry.” Cora soothed into his ear. “Easy, now. It’s alright. The bad man is gone.” 

“A-Are you sure?” 

“Yes I am. There’s nothing to be scared of any longer. I’m here and I’ll protect you.”

From behind them both, an aged voice spoke up. “We all will.” As the duo turned they noted the worried visages of Isobel and Violet rushing in (as fast as their ages would allow) to fill the cushions around them and to offer what support they could as well. It wasn’t long after that that Mary, Edith, and Sybil came after to join the group cuddle as well. 

And all the while that she offered her comfort, Mary’s mind was filled with one simple realization. What happened the night before was meant to happen to her. Had she not switched rooms with Harry then the ruin of her reputation would have been assured. Her cousin had saved it along with her virtue, and somewhere within her cold exterior shell the last vestiges of resistance to the love she felt for the child dispelled. He was family. He was her family. And she would do everything in her power to make sure he was happy going forward. 

And finally, surrounded by the new family he’d made, Harry at last began to feel safe.

Meanwhile Robert was taking the car into town with the intent of boarding the next possible train to the city. He did not look forward to explaining what had happened to Cousin Matthew but he would much rather it come from him than the gossip rags. Though he was very sure about one thing going forward; if the lawyer had been protective of his son before, he was bound to be incredibly more so going forward.

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties herein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Chapter Four - Intentions 

“And… there we are.” Thomas smiled as he smoothed the collar of young Master Harry’s dinner jacket. “The gentleman is ready for dinner.” It had been about four months since the footman had been elevated to the position of personal valet to the Heir’s child, and it had been four months of delight. The servingman had never considered himself a kid person, but Harry was just so eager, positive, and he didn’t act bratty or childish at all. He appreciated everything others did for him; case in point, the way he was admiring his reflection in the mirror. 

“Apologies for not being able to smooth your hair, sir.” Thomas finished as he flapped the coat brush along the boy’s shoulders to remove any last minute loose fibers. “I’ve never encountered a mop that wouldn’t stick to any product.” And indeed, whatever trick he’d worked on the lad’s mop the first night of his new role, he had never been able to replicate. It was almost as if the hair had learned from the experience and adapted; as crazy as that sounded. 

Harry laughed, a sound as pure as music, and turned back to face the man fully. “Yeah, my Gram has complained about that more than once. Thank you so much, Mr. Thomas. My jacket has never looked better!” 

Thomas smiled at the exuberance on display. “All I did was alter a few seams, young sir. It’s nothing anyone else couldn’t have done if given time with your clothing. But we should hurry along,” he checked his pocketwatch and nodded for good measure, “we’ll have you there just fashionably early enough to impress.” 

The lordling and valet exited the boy’s room at the same time Mosely was exiting the master bedroom with Matthew. The Heir of Grantham gave an approving nod to the dapper appearance of his son, thanked Thomas for his efforts, and as soon as Isobel joined them in the parlor they exited out to the waiting carriage and began the ride up to Downton for their, by now normal, practice of family dinners. It was, by far, a practice that had regrettably needed to grow more accepted after what had almost happened to Harry those months past. 

The trauma of such a near-assault, and the fact that he’d inadvertently saved Mary from being its recipient, had made Harry the darling of every woman in that house. Robert had practically adopted the boy himself, and Violet had taken to giving him lessons in etiquette over tea. 

Of course, Matthew had needed to be present for a great deal of those interactions, and along the way he’d definitely taken note of the almost… mothering presence that Mary had taken with his son. The distance she placed between herself and everyone else was downright absent anytime that the youth was by her side. Many were the afternoons that she and Harry had spent riding horses together through the property fields. 

Once they made it to the house and were seated for their meal Matthew was only marginally surprised to find the heiress of Grantham seated at his son’s left hand as he was on his right. If the lawyer didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was some sort of match-making effort on the part of the other family members. 

While the genteel folk were seated and began chatting around served plates, Mr. Carson couldn’t help but angle his own path over toward the line of waiting valets that rested against the far wall. A line that now included Mosely, Thomas, and Mr. Bates, all ready to move at the slightest motion from their masters. 

“Thomas,” Carson drew himself up in front of the youth and folded his serving towel over his arm officiously. “You look… calm.” And indeed, that was quite the odd state for the former footman to be in, as far as he was concerned. In all the years he had known young Thomas, the lad had been opinionated, pushy, and possessed of an over-inflated idea of his own self image. Now though… he looked the very image of a proper service worker. Even the lapels of his coat were in perfect order. “It seems the life of a valet suits you.” 

Thomas offered his trademark smirk and replied, “Just living up to my potential, Mr. Carson. Master Harry thought I had it in me to rise to this position, so I’m just showing everyone here how right he was.” 

“Indeed.” Carson kept his tone level as he addressed them all, “Mr. 's Mosely, Bates, and Thomas, dinner for the servers is being held during after-dinner cigars. Should the desire avail you, feel free to come below and join us. I can say, at least for my own part, that your conversational presences have indeed been missed.” 

Meanwhile the family was setting into their first course and the topic of the events of the week came to fruition. After the brief info on the tenants had been covered by the Earl, and the hospital had been referenced by Isobel, Matthew raised a glass and announced, “I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate my son for earning a perfect score on his maths final this semester. Officially, the grades don’t come out until next week, but his instructor was so impressed by his formula work that he paid a call to my office to let me know about it personally.” 

“Here here!” Everyone cheered the blushing youth with full glasses and sipped to his continued excellence before the conversation continued.

Cora asked with open curiosity, “I didn’t know you were so well trained with maths, Harry.” 

The youth shrugged softly and continued to blush as he answered, “It… it was just like solving mysteries in my Sherlock Holmes books. I looked at the questions and asked myself what was missing. What were the clues and hints within the problem on the page? After I did that, the rest was easy.”  

Duly impressed with what he’d just heard, Robert dabbed the side of his mouth with a napkin and asked, “What is to be done about this grand achievement, Cousin Matthew? Surely the lad deserves a prize for such outstanding work?” 

The lawyer agreed heartily. “I was thinking about taking him to the town fair tomorrow and letting him choose whatever contests he wants to try his hand at.” 

Mary smiled warmly at the way the youth beside her seemed to start vibrating with glee at the prospect. Even more so when he asked her if she would come with him. “Of course, Harry. I would be delighted.” 

“Yay!” The boy looked back to his father and said, “And maybe papa can win you a prize while we’re there too, cousin Mary.” 

Mary blinked, having in the moment not considered the fact that ‘ of course ’ the child’s father was going to be there. Something about being near Harry just made her lose sight of things. “Yes, well, I suppose that is always a possibility.” 

Meanwhile, Robert and Cora shared a wink at the current development before turning back to their meal. Once more, they wondered if Harry might be just the thing their family needed to carry on the legacy of Downton after all. 

The Next Afternoon 

“Harry! Stay in my line of sight, okay.” Matthew laughed to his scampering child as the youth moved from one booth to the next. They’d been in town for just a few minutes by that point and already he knew that Harry was going to be sleeping well that night after all of this. Beside him, he also noticed an uncharacteristic smile crossing Mary’s face. Of course, she saw him looking, and an instant later it disappeared. 

“Cousin Matthew, do I have something on my face?” 

“No, Mary. I was just thinking of how rarely I see you smile. I’m glad my son can bring that side of you out into the open. It is a rather pleasant sight after all.” 

Mary looked away, but continued walking beside the man as she replied, “Yes, well, there hasn’t really been much else for me to smile about in the last several months. Harry is the only dot of sunshine in my otherwise bleak window.” 

The lawyer frowned. “Yes… look, I’m not sure if I’ve said it in so many words yet, but I ‘am’ sorry that our shared great matter has led to this turnout. It was never my intention to push you out of your inheritance, just as it was never my intention to have a son. These things just… happened.” He slowly reached out to take her hand and offer it a supporting squeeze. “But in the case of the latter, it became the greatest surprise and joy of my life, and for the former, I promise to try and make it at least manageable for you.” 

Mary didn’t say anything to that at first, but her nonverbals spoke volumes as she didn’t pull her hand away, their linked fingers continuing to rock between them as they walked. It was a sight that Harry couldn’t help being thrilled at seeing in his brief instances at looking back to make sure the grown-ups were still following him. 

Eventually, however, the heiress commented, “I almost wish you were being cruel about this, Matthew. It would be easier to hate you than to recognize that a good man is taking over the life that should have been mine.” Her eyes panned to the beautifully happy face of Harry, stopped ahead and observing a ball throwing game. “But no one who raised a boy like that could be anything but good.” 

“Is it truly so horrible for you?” Matthew asked with open concern. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Mary sighed as they came closer to Harry’s position. “It’s horrible, but I don’t suppose it's the end of the world. I grew up knowing that Downton would be my home, unless papa sired a male, of course. It’s a place I love more than any other, so not having that security any longer hurts. However, I’ve also lived my life getting ready to marry a man of means and live off their wealth and enhance their standing with my rank. That last, at least, has not changed its value, even if the dowry is no longer as gratuitous as it once was. I’ll likely have to find a wealthy man of lower standing and offer a marriage to raise his position. Business will remain, even if former plans are destroyed.” 

“That sounds rather… depressing. Is there no room for love in that setup?” 

“Love? Cousin Matthew, I had no idea you were such a romantic. Of course, as a woman, I would desire the love of my partner; however, as a noblewoman , I am realistic enough to understand that it is not exactly necessary for a strong marriage to proceed. What matters is the family, and the continuation of our name and bloodline. Everything else is secondary. It is the lot in life that all nobles come to accept with time. Whether we enjoy it, care for it, or even like it, is immaterial.” 

Matthew took those words in and said, “I guess I’m not as used to this life as I thought I was.” Though he couldn’t deny that his regard for the woman at his side was growing every second he spent with her. He’d been expecting drama, hysterics, or even revilement toward his person, the current great matter, or even fate. However, Mary had instead chosen to face the future with a stiff chin and the iron will to make the best of whatever was coming her way. It was inspiring. 

All the same, he was sorry for the down look their conversation seemed to have brought to his partner’s face. “I am sorry, cousin Mary. I have made you upset.” 

Mary, however, was quick to reassure him. “Oh, cousin Matthew, you have not made me angry at all. It’s only my life that sometimes does it. I won’t deny that I feel somewhat confined on occasion. There is a belief in my heart that I am capable of more in this world than just looking nice, attending the Season, and participating in charity events. I know that these things matter, but the thoughts remain. However, I’ve no idea of what to do with them. It’s hard to think that you might be wasting a gift that god gave you, and sometimes the thought makes me say things I shouldn’t; and I know that I end up hurting those around me as a result. My sisters are good enough sports for it, and Sybil is very generous in her forgiveness, but you… I regret if I’ve ever made you feel less for my moroseness.” 

Matthew offered the woman a look of reassurance. “Far from it. Mary, I find myself more and more surprised by the depths held within you. Far from feeling lessor, I find myself more the seasoned diver who keeps discovering new things in the ocean’s depths. It makes me look forward to whatever new things might come my way each day.” 

The heiress wanted to reply to that statement, but by then they’d reached Harry’s side and the lawyer happily handed the game-runner a coin so that a set of three balls could be placed in front of his son on the counter. “How does this work?” 

Mary chuckled and knelt beside Harry. “I played this one last year. Alright, Harry, there’s three balls and three stacks of bottles of differing sizes. If you hit all three you get a choice of the stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling. Ready to give it a go?” 

“Yeah!” 

Mary wasn’t sure what she expected of the next few seconds. Probably a few weak throws, and maybe one of the small stacks being knocked over, leading to her having to give the boy a hug to cheer him up. However, when he rapidly picked up each ball one after the other and knocked them all down in less than four seconds, she found herself looking at a smirking Matthew with shock. 

The lawyer saw his companion’s expression and explained, “Harry is surprisingly good at cricket.” 

Meanwhile, Harry was pointing to a particular stuffed animal and hopping in place as the amused host picked it up and handed it to him. Once he had it in his arms he immediately turned around and presented it to Mary. “Here you are, cousin! I won it for you!” 

Mary blinked. “Me?” 

“Yeah. I saw how sad you looked earlier and I wanted to make you happy again. And what’s happier than a gorilla?” 

Mary idly took the stuffed animal and found that she remarkably did feel a little better. Though she supposed it might also have come from Harry’s eager smile. She smiled softly back at him and ruffled his hair fondly. “Thank you, Harry. What would I do without you?” 

“Look to my papa.” The boy said with the certainty that only a child could offer. “He always makes me happy when I’m sad. He could probably do it for you too.” 

Mary gave a side-eye to Mathew, who was clearly doing his best not to burst out laughing at their little scene. “Yes, well, your father might be something of an acquired taste. And besides,” she pulled Harry to her side and started walking back into the fair proper, “I don’t need anyone else to make me feel better when I have you.”

Meanwhile

“Well, Cora, what did I tell you?” Robert asked as he and his wife followed at a safe distance after their heir and daughter through the fair. 

“You were right.” Cora admitted from his side. “They look like a beautiful little family already. But how are we to make it happen? Mary won’t be pushed by us, and Matthew won’t be manipulated either. Are youths today always so stubborn?” 

The Earl grinned smugly as he watched his daughter hug little Harry to her side. “I don’t think we’ll need to do much pushing or manipulating as long as Harry is around. That little boy is doing more to pull them together than any plan we could concoct. We just need to find more opportunities for them all to spend time together and the bonds will form on their own.” 

“Hm.” Cora considered that thought for a moment. “I believe we just heard Matthew say that Harry is good at Cricket. Perhaps we might procure some tickets to a professional game for him?” 

Picking up on the idea his wife was laying down, the Earl added, “And it would of course likely be starting during the day, when Matthew would be committed to being at work.” 

Mary finished with, “And of course Mary would volunteer to take the boy for him.” 

Robert nodded. “And Matthew, being the caring father that he is, would of course head to the field as soon as he could, probably just in time to see the end of the match and ride the train back with the both of them. My dear, your mind is a wonder.” 

“I try, Robert. Though I might have gotten a few ideas and tips from your mother. She is quite the ingenious matchmaker when she wants to be.” 

“It is one of her saving virtues, my dear. Now, let us enjoy the fair. I think perhaps it is my turn to win a beautiful woman a stuffed prize.” 

Four Weeks Later

“So, are you starting to notice the same pattern that I am?” Mary smirked over the short distance of her shared train car at Matthew as their mode of transportation trundled along back toward Downton. She and Harry had just spent a very enjoyable afternoon at a cricket field outside London and, as with the other instances, Matthew had arrived just in time to see the end of the game and ride back home with them. It had happened enough times now that it was becoming impossible to ignore the Grantham’s machinations. 

“Yes, I think I am.” Matthew couldn’t take his eyes away from the way Harry’s sleeping head was propped on Mary’s lap with her fingers combing easily through his wild locks. It was one of the most beautiful and domestic things he’d ever seen. “Your parents are arranging time for us to spend together. Are you upset by the gesture?” 

Mary thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head in the negative. “Surprisingly… no. I find myself rather enjoying this time together. Matthew, I came into our acquaintanceship expecting to hate you. However, you have exceeded my expectations and regard at every opportunity. Honestly, it would be incredibly frustrating if you weren’t also so charming.” She smiled softly down at her younger charge. “And seeing Harry settle into this new life because of you has done a great deal to ease my ire. He deserves the better things, doesn’t he?” 

“I think so.” Matthew nodded. “But I’ve also been thinking of ways to ensure your happiness as well.” 

Mary blinked. “My… happiness?” 

“Mary, my son loves you. I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at you. It’s as if he thinks the skies would fall if you only gave the word. It used to only be me he looked at that way. If my new inheritance were to rob you of hearth and home he’d be heartbroken… and so would I.” 

“Matthew, I do not warrant such words of kindness.” 

“Yes, you do. In fact, I believe you deserve so much more. And I intend to try and give it to you.” 

“What are you-” 

“Please, let me say this, Mary. It is hard enough to do so now and if you put me off then I fear I shall not be able to again.” He waited a moment, and when the woman held her tongue, he said, “I have been… speaking often with your father and Cousin Violet over the last weeks. We began by trying to find some loophole in the entail, but when none presented itself we began looking instead for some other solution for you; and it was, ironically enough, Harry that came up with the best answer in the end.” 

“Harry?” 

“Yes.” Matthew smiled fondly down at his pride and joy. “I was tucking him in last week and he said something in his fatigue that I’m not even sure he would remember now if asked about it.” 

“And what was that?” 

“He said that he loved spending time with you.” Clearing his throat, the lawyer finished with, “And that it felt like what he always thought having a mother was like.” Seizing on the woman’s stunned silence once more he said, “Harry opened my eyes in only a few words to what I had been feeling since first meeting you, but had been thus far unable to acknowledge. You are a formidable woman, and yet one of deep heart and character. You live for Downton, and you clearly have found a place in your heart for my boy. And yet, more than that, you challenge me. In all of our conversations I have left having realized new ways of thinking, and seen new avenues of life and consequence. I believe that you make me a better person for the effort.” 

“Matthew, what are you saying?” 

Taking a deep, final, breath, the lawyer answered, “I’m saying that I would like to take you for a walk upon the grounds at Downton tomorrow, Mary.” 

“Truly?” 

“And the next evening, I would like to sit beside you at dinner.” 

“But that would mean-” 

“Mary, I am now stating my intention to court you. I won’t deprive you of your home because, god willing, I intend to provide for you a new one. And it will be one that we shall all share together.” 

“Matthew-” 

“Please, don’t say anything now. Just think it over. And if tomorrow I arrive for my walk and you’re not there, I’ll have my answer.” 

The Next Afternoon

Matthew was a bundle of nervous energy as he paced in front of the tree on the end of the drive to Downton. It had already been twenty minutes, and he was starting to worry that nothing was going to come of his effort after all… which was of course when he saw the resplendent form of Mary just leaving the door to the enormous home to set off in his direction. 

He at once ceased his movements and tried to stand as still and noble as possible until the woman at last reached his position, holding out a hand for him to gently take and bring to his lips. “I worried that you wouldn’t come.” 

Mary visibly steeled herself and answered, “For a while I wasn’t sure I would either.” 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Harry.” The woman smiled up at him. “The thought of seeing him everyday. Of him calling me mama.” She took his hands in her own, and added, “And I’ll admit, the thought of seeing you just as much… was not offputting either. So, are you ready to begin this walk?” 

Meanwhile

Robert and Cora watched the pair set off on the trail from the higher view of the window in their room. Each congratulating each other for a job well done. At last, their machinations had born fruit.

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer : I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties herein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Note : Going to be moving things forward a bit faster here. Harry’s time at Hogwarts is not central to Downton, so it will be less touched upon. I will focus instead on the effect his new education has on the family… and the global events to come. 

Note : Going to be making a few timeline changes here for the sake of things to come. In this universe WWI started a year later and went on a year longer. 

Chapter Five - A Wizard Is A Perfectly Acceptable Profession For A Nobleman

Several Months Later

“Is everything ready?” Matthew asked as he hurriedly entered the front doors to Downton. All around the serving staff were bustling to put the finishing touches on the space, and the nobles had already gathered at the other end of the welcoming hall to greet him. 

Violet sniffed daintily and spoke for them, “Everything is indeed set. Mrs. Patmore assures us that the pie is perfect, and Robert has hidden the gifts in the appropriate places. But is all of this effort truly necessary?” 

“Oh, you have no idea.” Matthew grinned as he hurried over to Mary and took her hand gently in his own to bring it to his lips. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Harry has the makings of a great detective in him. At the very least, a skilled investigator. He enjoys the chase, and it’s why I insisted you all hide your gifts off the property until today. Were they in a single place he could get to before now, well, there would be no surprises. He’d find them in a matter of minutes with how often he explores these halls.” 

They all shared a hearty laugh at that before hearing the turning of the door handles once more. All turned to the entrance, ready to greet the birthday boy, only to find their enthusiasm dimmed as, instead of Harry, Iosbel came shuffling in. 

The nurse looked around at all the expectant faces and guessed, “Harry hasn’t arrived yet?” 

“Not yet, mother.” Matthew confirmed, quickly gesturing to the space beside him. Once she got there he asked, “Did you bring it?” 

Isobel smiled softly and slid an envelope into his hand. “I’m glad I lived to see this day; and Harry is going to be ecstatic.” 

“I hope so, mother.” The blonde man took a deep breath and then shared a knowing look with Mary. Though anything else was put on hold as all heard the jingling of the door handles once more. 

This time, when the portal opened, it actually was Harry home from the library, and everyone gathered nearly startled him out of his shoes with an ecstatic shout of, “Happy Birthday, Harry!” 

The child was stunned for all of three seconds before running over and hugging each of the gathered family one after the other. Even Violet allowed herself a moment to enjoy the embrace before shooing the boy over to the next in line and regaining her regal air. It amused them all that Mary’s hug lasted the longest, and only once the boy was through with Isobel at the end of the line did Matthew clear his throat to regain his son’s attention. 

“Alright, Harry.” The lawyer knelt in front of his boy and playfully moved his hand back and forth between their heads, checking for height comparisons, as was tradition. He smiled warmly at the laugh his actions caused and finally got down to it. “Now, we’ve hidden your presents in key locations throughout the library, dining room, meeting room, and study. Each present has a clue to the next one. But before you get down to your investigation, Mary and I have something to announce, and we wanted you to be the first to know about it.” 

Matthew didn’t need to look back to know that Violet, Edith, and Sybil were looking on with clear confusion, and that Robert and Cora were smirking with satisfaction. By that point he knew them all well enough to predict it all. Slowly pulling up the envelope that his mother had provided him earlier, he made sure his child’s eyes were locked onto his hands as he flipped it open and let the ring within fall into his hand. Turning on his knee to face an uncharacteristically blushing Mary, he held the item out to her. 

“Mary Crawley, this ring, humble though it may be, has been given in promise to every woman who married into my family for the last two hundred years. Will you accept it in the spirit it is given, and honor me more than could be put into words by agreeing to become my wife?”

The heiress took a moment to watch the expression of pure glee rise on her favorite child’s face, and daintily reached out to take the ring and slip it on her finger before replying, “It would be the greatest pleasure of my life to say yes.” 

Matthew let loose a breath he had not known he was holding and immediately rose to kiss her cheek. He’d been sure she’d say yes after all the discussions they’d had on the subject, but there was always that one percent chance of failure that refused to leave his mind. That worrying was all over now.

Harry stood vibrating in place for five whole seconds to try and give the adults time to celebrate, and then lost the battle with his patience as he rushed forward and threw his arms around their waists. 

There was a great deal of applause from the sisters, back clapping from Robert, and delighted coos from Isobel and Violet, before anyone managed to say anything else. But eventually Harry was able to get in, “Does this mean that… that I can….” 

Well guessing his intent, Mary smiled and combed the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Yes, Harry. I’m going to be your mama now, and I would love it if you were to call me that.” 

“Mama.” Harry smiled, and Mary developed a dopey grin as she took his hand and began leading him toward the library. 

“Yes, Harry. I’m your mama. So let mama help you on your quest to find your gifts.” 

Matthew watched the two set off and only looked away when he felt his mother take his hand. 

“Those two look beautiful together.” Isobel declared.

The lawyer nodded. “Yes. They do. In fact-” He was cut off by a sudden rapping on the window to his right. Everyone still gathered looked toward the sound and took a collective breath of confusion. 

Edith blinked and asked, “Is that an… owl?” 

Sybil nodded. “Yes… and is that an envelope in its beak?” 

Cora covered her mouth with her hand as she also asked, “And does it seem to be looking rather intently at Matthew?” 

To all of their surprise, Violet merely huffed at the inaction of her fellows and quickly shuffled over to the window, popped it open, retrieved the envelope, and politely asked the owl to wait before closing it a second later. The regal matriarch took a look at the writing on the missive and let out a short harumph. “Of course that’s what it would be.” And seeing that she had everyone’s attention, the elder noble asked, “Why are you all so out of sorts?” 

Robert cleared his throat and asked, “Mama, you seem… unruffled by this strangeness?” 

Violet blinked. “Well surely I’m not the only one who’s witnessed a letter arriving from Hogwarts.” She watched universal confusion continue to reign from her audience and sighed. “Well, perhaps I am. If you must know, my sister received a letter just like this when she was eleven.” She waved the item in the air for emphasis. “It’s an invitation to attend a very prestigious school in Northern Scotland. Hogwarts School for Witchcraft And Wizardry.” 

“Witchraft?” Cora gasped. 

“Wizardry?” Robert gaped. 

“Indeed.” Violet sniffed. “And I’ll have you know that learning to become a wizard is a perfectly acceptable profession for a nobleman. Harry is incredibly lucky.” 

At that, Matthew finally broke free of his own momentary shock. “Cousin Violet, you cannot be serious. Magic isn’t real.”

“I’ll thank you not to call me a liar again, Matthew.” Violet turned her chin up at the lad and shuffled back into the room proper to find a chair to sit in. “As I said, my sister received a letter just like this. She left to attend the school and when she came back… oh, the wonderful things she showed us. Oh yes, magic is indeed real, and it is a beautiful thing. What’s more, in old families like ours, it’s an incredible honor to have a magical in the bloodline. They’ve been known to serve directly at the Crown’s pleasure.” 

“I’ve never heard about any of this.” Robert could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he’d never known his mother to lie or exaggerate. “Is that what your sister did?” 

“Yes indeed. She finished her education with top marks and became a personal aid to the Crown. She served as a liaison between our government and the magical ministries.”

Robert’s eyes grew wide as odd things from his past suddenly began to make sense. “So that’s why Auntie always had that strange stick on her person? I thought it was something like a maestro’s wand to direct her servant staff.”

Violet smirked at the memory. “Well, to be fair, she used it for that too. However, its primary purpose was as a magical focus. Apparently spellwork requires a great deal of dexterity.” 

Now it was Cora’s turn to find a seat; and after settling into it and taking a calming breath she asked, “What does this mean for Harry?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” Violet asked, confusion coloring her tone as if she couldn’t comprehend the query. “Of course Harry will have to accept the invitation. Hogwarts would not have sent this letter if he were not magical, and to reject the opportunity would be to waste a beautiful and incredibly useful gift. What’s more, the wizarding noble families will offer little Harry even more chances at a beneficial match in the future.” 

Matthew coughed for a moment in shock before muttering, “I think we’re still far from worrying about that. Harry is still only a child after all. However, this does seem to be a remarkable chance for him. Does it say when the term starts?” 

Violet examined the letter for a moment and answered, “It’s the same as the regular term here. September first.” 

“Good.” Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. “Then we have a month yet to get used to the idea.” 

“And we’ll get to spend a bit more time with the lad before he’s bundled off.” Robert added. 

“That too.” The lawyer agreed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It’s too good a chance to refuse, but I’ll admit it stings a bit. I always knew Harry would go away for school eventually, but I always figured it wouldn’t be until he was old enough for law school.” 

Violet raised an amused brow. “Oh? Expecting little Harry to follow in your footsteps, Matthew?” 

“Actually, I rather figured he’d want to become a detective or a private investigator. But I wouldn’t be disappointed if the Bar catches his eye instead. All are worthy occupations.” 

Isobel had been listening intently to everything, but waited until she saw Harry scamper out of the library into the study with an amused Mary in tow. Then she said, “All of that aside, I believe this topic can wait until after Harry’s birthday is completed. To my eye, at this moment we have an excitable little investigator on the hunt who deserves an audience.” 

One Month Later

Matthew walked into the dining room of Downton for breakfast and smiled as he saw Mary already there rifling frantically through the morning’s post. He meandered over, kissed her cheek, and settled into the seat beside her. In a bid to have Harry as their ringbearer before he set off for school, they’d decided to have a small service at the local chapel rather than a larger affair at the cathedral, and it had been a marvelous ceremony for all of them. And so it was that it had been a married couple that waved ‘their’ child off to school at King’s Cross Station. 

“Good morning, wife.” It still felt incredible to be able to call her that. “Anything from Harry?” 

Mary didn’t even look up as she continued rifling through the multitude of letters. “Good morning, husband. And I’m not sure. Give me one moment…. Yes!” She held up one item proudly, quickly cut into it with a letter opener, and began reading through the two pages of writing. “Oh, dear, he sounds so excited. Listen to this: he was sorted into Hufflepuff House. Apparently it's the dormitory associated with fellowship, loyalty, hard work, and patience.” 

“All aspects he embodies perfectly.” Matthew agreed as he moved to the serving table to fix up a plate for his morning meal. 

Mary sighed wistfully before continuing, “And he made a friend on the train. Some boy sorted into Gryffindor House named Charlus Potter. He says they have most of their classes together.”

“He always did make friends quickly.” The lawyer took a seat opposite his wife so he could look at her as he ate. “What else does he have to say?” 

“Well, he says something called ‘transfiguration’ is his favorite class so far, but he thinks that he’s going to have trouble with potions. Also that he misses us all dearly and hopes we’ll write to him every day.” 

Matthew finished his latest mouthful of toast and eggs and nodded to the window where a regal black owl was currently resting on its perch. “Then it’s a good thing we picked up Doyle there at Diagon Alley while acquiring Harry’s school supplies. He’s a hardy bird, and I’m sure he’ll make the trips with no problem.” 

“Yes, but…” Mary bit her lip with worry. “He’s all alone up there. Maybe we should prepare a care package for him? We could have Mrs. Patmore make a pie, and Mr. Bates could arrange some books that he’ll like, and-” 

“Mary!” Matthew interrupted his bride by reaching over the table to take her hand. “He’s not alone. Thomas went with him.” And hadn’t that been a surprise. After receiving Harry’s letter, Robert and he had written back to the school asking for more particulars and had been wrote back with a rather extensive missive full of all sorts of information about Hogwarts and its policies. One thing that had stood out was that students of means were more than welcome to bring personal servants with them. Apparently the practice was intended for something called a ‘house elf’, but further correspondence with the helpful headmaster had revealed that muggle servants and valets were also allowed, though they were asked to remain in the dormitories and common rooms during class hours. 

When informed of this information, Thomas had immediately volunteered to accompany his young master. It seemed that having at last achieved the rank that he desired for so long in the household, the valet was not going to be relegated back to a simple footman if he could help it. And the travel didn’t seem to bother him as much as the alternative. 

Continuing on, the blonde man said, “And we can send him normal gifts as we will, but a massive care package would just be seen as, well, odd. Going overboard would make him stand out and it might just embarrass him.” 

Mary looked away at that. “You might be right. Oh, Matthew, I just miss him so much.” 

“So do I. But don’t worry so much. We’ll keep writing to him and he’ll be home for Christmas. I know it’s hard, but try to think about it like a regular boarding school. A lot of kids and parents go through this just as we do. If they can get through it, so can we.” 

Mary nodded and settled one hand on her chest. “I know I’m being unreasonable, but my heart. Matthew, I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone. I never considered motherhood, or what it would mean for me, but now… Oh god, I miss my little boy.” 

“So do I.” Matthew agreed. “But part of being a parent is learning when to know that they need to do some things for themselves. Right now Harry is finding his place in a whole new world, and maybe it will go a bit easier for him if he has a chance to immerse himself in it a bit before he gets bombarded by all of us.” 

“It’s hard.” 

“I know. But our little boy is doing something incredible right now, Mary. He’s learning to wield powers beyond our comprehension, and I just know that someday he’ll use them to change the world.” 

Two Years Later 

“Well, Harry, you're thirteen now, so I thought it was time for something new.” Matthew declared as he crested the rise on his horse with his son quickly following behind him. It had been an eventful couple of years to bring them to this point. Harry had made a name for himself at Hogwarts as a rising star in the field of transfiguration (and he’d indeed never quite gotten the hang of potions) and Matthew had taken over much of the management of Downton from Robert. The Earl had judged it necessary enough, declaring that since he and Mary had married it wouldn’t be long until he decided to retire to the country estate. What was more, the lawyer had even impressed the Partners at his law firm to the point that they were talking about elevating him to join their ranks soon. All told, it had been a time of great change and adjustment for the family, and with the way the world was changing it wouldn’t only be them soon enough. Even Sybil had decided to alter her own circumstances and had left six months back to attend a nursing school program. 

That morning saw the advent of Harry’s thirteenth birthday and, instead of the usual scavenger hunt and party, Matthew had urged the lad to join him for a ride in the countryside. So it was that they’d quickly saddled up the horses and set off just as the sun was beginning to rise over the hills. They’d kept on for about half an hour and had ended up on a rise overlooking the whole of Downton’s lands. 

Harry heard his father’s words and rode to a stop beside him. “I’m glad you did, papa.” The young wizard said as he took in the sight. “I’ve never witnessed Downton from this angle before. It’s beautiful.” 

“Yes, it is.” Matthew spoke with surety, love, and… sadness. It was that last that immediately had his son snapping his head around to take in his face rather than the view, and the great amount of seriousness that filled it. 

“Papa? What’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering right away, Matthew hoisted himself up and dropped down from the saddle. He retrieved something from his saddlebag and took a seat on the grass, patting the ground at his side for his son to join him. He waited for the lad to do so, and only once he was settled there and clearly listening did he say, “As I said, you’re thirteen now, and that means you’re the same age I was when my father sat me down and started to talk to me like a man, rather than a child. You’ve reached an important moment, son. The moment the real world sets in. And I wanted to talk to you here because… because it might be the last chance we have for a very long time.” 

Harry was starting to get worried. “What-” 

“I’m talking to you like a man, son. And a man has to know the truth of things. The world is about to get very dark and very dangerous. Cousin Robert has many friends in the War Office, and they’ve been having frantic meetings for the last several weeks. They worry…” Matthew took a deep breath and just came out with it. “They worry that hostilities on the world stage are about to erupt. That England is soon to be at war.” 

“War?” 

“Yes, son. War. No one knows what might start it, but enough people are worried to make the end result real. A war for the freedom and safety of our people. There has not been a draft yet, but I’m sure the time won’t be far in coming. Harry, I love you, I love our family, and I love our country. I can’t stand by while any of them are threatened.”

“But Papa, you’re responsibility to Downton-” 

“A man’s responsibility is to protect his family and his nation.” Matthew stated with all the conviction of his heart. He took another deep breath and let it out. “To protect both I have decided to enlist. I’ll be leaving for training shortly after you depart for Hogwarts. As a nobleman, and with Robert’s connections, I will be attending officer’s school and leading several brave men from the town. I… wouldn’t lie when speaking man to man, son. There’s a very real possibility that once this all starts I won’t be coming back.” 

Harry almost started to cry at those words, but one thing stopped him. Man to man. His father was trusting him to act as an adult should, and an adult wouldn’t cry when told something that upset him. Not even when the man that had always been invincible in his mind was telling him to his face that he was only too mortal. So he manfully reined in his emotions and said, “Are you sure there will be a war?” 

“As sure as I can be.” The lawyer confirmed. “There’s the reports from Robert's friends, but also… it feels like conflict is coming. The air is heavy with its dark promise.” He reached over and took his son’s shoulder in a firm grip. “When I’m gone, you’ll still have school. And it will give my heart peace to know that you’re safe there. But when you come back here for holidays my peace will be greater for knowing that Mary and the others will be protected by your magic. I’m trusting you to look after them all for me.” 

“I… I’ll do everything I can for them, papa. You can trust me.” 

“I know I can, son.” The blonde smiled softly at the pride of his life and slowly pulled his hand back to retrieve the item he’d grabbed from his saddlebags. “Which is why I also know you’re old enough for your first taste of the good stuff.” 

Harry blinked at the ornate bottle in his father’s hands. “What is that?” 

“Your birthday present. This, Harry, was your grandfather’s favorite scotch. When I turned thirteen he sat me down just like this and poured me a dram. He said that the first step into manhood was learning to enjoy a man’s drink.” Matthew popped the cork, took a small sip, and then passed it over to his son. He only laughed a little bit as the lad gagged at the action of trying to copy him. “First rule of enjoying a dram, Harry, is that you don’t just knock it back. No, you take a small sip, hold it in your mouth for a moment to let the taste set in, and only then swallow.” He took another sip to show the method and then passed it back. This time, rather than a laugh, he found himself smiling with pride as the boy did it the right way. He also noticed the blush that was coming to his cheeks.

“That’s enough now, Harry.” He took the bottle back and ruffled his hair fondly. “Too much more and you’ll be slouched in the saddle and your mama will have my hide. Second rule of enjoying a dram, always drink in moderation. It is right to drink for pleasure, and sloppy to drink for oblivion. It’s called a dram because it’s the perfect amount.” 

The two sat in silence for a while after that, just staring at the sun rising ahead of them ever higher into the sky. “Papa?” 

“Yes, Harry.” 

“Thanks. For this… for everything.” His mind kept replaying over and over his father’s words… that he might not make it back. “I know I’m not the perfect son. I’ve always tried my best but-” He was cut off as his father pulled him into his side and wrapped his arms around him. 

“Harry, never doubt yourself like that again. You’ve been the best son a father could ever ask for, and you make me more and more proud of you every. Single. Day. I didn’t know…” Matthew swallowed thickly and continued, “I didn’t know the hole that existed in my heart until you arrived and filled it.”

Harry clutched desperately to his father and asked, “You’ll write to me?” 

“As often as I can find the time to put pen to paper. Though I do hope Doyle will make it through the carnage.” 

Harry muttered, “That bird is even smarter than me. He’ll make it.” He looked up and added, “And you will too. I know you will.” 

“Harry, you need to understand that I might not-” 

“I know that. But I believe you will make it. And I’ll make sure it happens if I have to.” 

“Harry-” 

“I mean, if it gets bad enough then surely the magicals will get called to service too, so I could-” 

“Harry!” Matthew stared down at his son’s eyes. “I’m going to make this very clear. No matter how bad things might get… you are to go nowhere near this war.” He cupped the lad’s cheek and explained, “You… are good. You are everything good and bright in this world; and it would kill me worse than any bullet if you were to become tainted by this struggle. I need to know you’re here. I need to know you’re safe. And I need to know that your mother is being watched over. Can you do these things for me?” 

“I… I can.” 

“Good.” Matthew leaned down and kissed his son’s head. “I love you, Harry.” 

“I love you too, papa. And I’ll pray for you.”

“Pray for every soul on the front, son. And I’ll pray that you never need to see it for yourself.”  

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties herein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Note : Moving things along rather quickly here. And that is for good reason. One, I plan on covering a good deal of things with flashbacks and letters. Two, I don’t think I have the talent to write an entire novel’s worth of material for the events of a World War. Three, there are other properties set within this same general time frame that I am eager to get to. 

Note : Anyone skeptical about Matthew’s reaction to what is coming… I’d remind you of the fact that after the war he had the means to financially save Downton but refused to use it as a merit of pride. His pride almost proved the end of Downton up until the end where events finally managed to change his mind. Matthew is a man of deep pride, conviction, and above all else, stubbornness. Often to his own detriment. And his son is much the same way. 

Chapter Six - Convictions

Two Years Later

“Harry! Harry stop!” Charlus Potter snatched his friend’s shoulders and pulled him off the unfortunate Ravenclaw that had just been having his face punched in. The Gryffindor even found himself dodging a wild blow as his friend reacted on instinct to the interception. 

Though to his merit, Harry immediately realised what he’d just done and finally managed to settle down. Then he took a look at the crowd that had gathered to watch his row and gestured contemptuously at the downed student. “Someone get him to the medical wing. He’s a prat, and I don’t want his blood sullying the grounds.” 

He waited to see the work done before stomping back into the castle proper with Charlus hot on his heels. 

“Hey, Harry.” The Gryffindor called as he made it level with him once more. “What was it this time?” 

“Eh?” 

“The thing that got Rodney a punch to the face? And then the next eight to the body? What was it?” 

“You know what it was, Charlus.” 

“Harry… they don’t know any better.” 

“Yes they do.” Harry snarled. “They just don’t care. You need to stop defending them, Charlus. Standing by while that kind of drivel is spouted and doing nothing about it is the same thing as agreeing with it.” 

The other boy grabbed his friend’s shoulder and pulled him to a stop. “So what do you plan to do, huh? Beat the shit out of every student that laughs at muggles and their antics? You’d be at it all day, most every day, and the only thing you’d manage is to get yourself expelled.” 

Whatever the fifth year thought would follow, it wasn’t his best friend stepping into his personal space, stopping almost nose to nose, and snarling, “I’ll ‘ beat the shit ’ out of anyone that laughs about how millions of muggles killing each other makes ‘less work for them in the future’ ! Don’t you get it? Our countrymen, our allies, my father, are all risking their lives to protect the bastards within these walls from the horrors of our enemies, and our fellow students find it hilarious!” Fire blazed behind his eyes as he added. “You might be alright with just standing by and letting it stand, but I’m not!” 

“Harry, you’re being unreasonable.” 

“No, you are being a bystander.” Harry snapped back. “All of Magical Britain seems to be ‘proud’ of that. Standing apart from a war that affects us all and turning your noses up at our country’s need. The lack of turnout for the Crown’s Recruiter last week was evidence enough of that.” 

Charlus looked away, shame beginning to color his neck red. “It’s not ‘our’ war, Harry. If muggles are insisting on killing each other in such insane numbers then why should we magicals throw our necks into the fray? Something has to survive of our country.”

“And if our side loses because no one here did their part? What then?” 

“Someone always has to lose.” Charlus’ voice was low enough to be mistaken for a whisper as he finished with, “I don’t want the people I care about to be hit by mortar shells or gassed in trenches just so some muggle royal or politician can keep lording themselves over their muggle subjects. Let their people handle their own battles. Our people are worth more than that.”  

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He took a shaking step back and muttered. “Cowards. I’m… surrounded by cowards…” 

Charlus watched his friend stumble away and tried to call after him, to say something, anything. To apologize. To explain that he didn’t understand why he’d just said the things he had, but that he was afraid all the time since this war had started, and he didn’t know how not to be. But he never got the chance. Not that day, the day after, or even the following month. When next the wizard nobleman tried to track his friend down, all he discovered was an empty bed. 

Five Months Later

It was an excited bunch in the halls of Downton for the first time in quite a while. For the first time since the start of the war in fact. And why was that? Because for the first time since the start of hostilities the whole family was going to be together again for the weekend. Sybil and Matthew had gotten enough leave to come back for a few days and Harry was officially set to return for his Christmas break from Hogwarts. 

All told, it was with rather high spirits that the servants continued bustling around the estate to put everything into proper shape to receive their guests. So it was that Mary, who was having a lovely breakfast with her husband and the rest of the family, found herself rather surprised when a clearly nervous Thomas broke protocol by entering the dining room and stating that a messenger had arrived for her in the foyer. 

So she said her goodbye pleasantries, took her leave out to the hall, and found herself proved right as the valet led her down a side hallway and then came to a stop. “M-Mrs. Crawley, I… I am not supposed to be telling you this-” 

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t.” Mary offered at once, only to see the way the man’s face twinged at those words. “Unless your conscience is compelling it of you.” 

“It… it is, my lady.” Thomas rallied himself and explained, “Master Harry is going to be presenting himself for dinner and… I worry for the reaction that he is to receive.” 

“Reaction? Thomas, you are not making any sense.” 

“No, I expect I’m not.” Thomas took a deep breath and explained, “However, I am still sworn to some level of secrecy in this matter. Master Harry was very clear that I was to speak no word of his activities until it was too late to turn back. Even now, I worry that I am exceeding the bounds of my allowance in this moment. But please trust that I would not be saying anything at all now if it weren’t of the direst importance.” 

“Very well then. Now what is it?” 

“Lady Mary, Harry has done something that may seem impulsive in the moment, but that he insists to be something he could not have turned away from if he’d tried. It’s something that your husband is likely to not be thrilled by. Rather, I believe he will be furious. Yet in the end… I asked you here to implore you not to abandon him once all is known. He is going to need your support soon, more than ever.” 

Mary gasped, “What on earth could ever make me abandon my son?”

“You will learn soon enough, my lady. I only knew that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself were I not to make this entreaty. Your son has been very good to me. Better than I could have hoped. And he’s even arranged for me to join the medical corps while he…” 

Mary was starting to get a sick feeling in her stomach. “While he what, Thomas?” 

“I cannot say, Lady Mary. Please, do not ask it of me again.” 

“Very well.” 

“My thanks. But please, madam, try to understand when Harry arrives this evening. He’s only doing what his conscience and convictions say that he must. You raised a true nobleman in body, mind, and spirit. No matter what happens, I believe he will make you proud.” Thomas’s head shot to the side as the sound of moving footsteps was heard. A moment later the two saw a pair of maids continuing on their way to whatever next task awaited them. “I have already said too much.” He finished. “With your permission, I will return to the young master.” 

“Of course. Please be well, Thomas.” Mary watched the man hurry off, her mind already working a mile a minute to understand what Harry could have undertaken that would require setting affairs in order for Thomas to have a new job. Specifically one in the ‘medical corps’. The conclusions she was coming to were enough to set her heart to racing with worry. Surely it was not possible. Surely Harry would not be able to do something so brash without her or Matthew’s permission. And surely her son wouldn’t…. Oh who was she kidding? Her son was more than capable of all of it. Young genius that he was. She just hoped like hell that she was wrong. 

That Night 

Mary was a bundle of nerves as she sat at the table with Matthew after her parents and grandmother had already been seated. Her sisters were being led in next and after them would be Harry. No one had seen him yet, as he’d been sequestered in his rooms all day citing weariness from his travels, but after speaking to Thomas she had just the worst feeling building within her chest. A feeling that was proven justified seconds later as Harry was led into the room by a startled Mr. Carson… in the full dress uniform of a military officer. 

You could have heard a pin drop for all of five seconds before Matthew, fresh from the front in his own uniform, burst to his feet. “Explain this now!” He exclaimed. 

To his credit, Harry didn’t flinch at the tone. Rather, he moved to stand behind his own seat, snapped his heels together, and gave his superior officer a firm salute. He then watched as his father ground his teeth before formally returning it, before throwing his hand aside as if it disgusted him. Then the younger man said, “Papa, I’ve something to tell you.” 

Matthew’s knuckles cracked as he ground them into the wood of the table. “I’d say so, young man. And I hope it’s to be that you’ve found an old costume and mistaken the Christmas holiday for All Hallows Eve. Because otherwise it looks like you’ve gone behind my back and completely disregarded my ‘explicit’ instructions for you!” 

Harry remained unmoved, instead holding his position of attention as he replied, “I’m merely following the words of a man I admire more than any other. A man’s responsibility is to protect his family and his nation.” 

Matthew growled, “What fool told you that?” 

“My father.” 

The blonde man looked away for a moment and muttered again, “Explain.” 

Feeling the worried eyes of his family on him, the young wizard did just that. “I wrote to Evelyn Napier some months ago and asked for both an introduction to his contact at the War Office and a letter of recommendation. Long ago he promised me his support should ever I need a favor, and since he was wounded and back from the front he was more than happy to speak on my behalf. The Crown is frightfully short of Battlemages, and the need is dire, so my age was not a negating factor for my service.”

Matthew countered with, “You’d think the orders of your father would be.” 

At that, Harry did develop a look of conflict on his face that he quickly mastered before continuing. “I couldn’t stand by anymore. I couldn’t continue to watch as the recruitment drives at Hogwarts were met with failure after failure. But more than that, I couldn’t watch my classmates, professors, and the people of Hogsmeade continue to ‘laugh’ at the fallout to our country any longer without doing something about it. Beating their faces in has done nothing, begging the headmaster to speak up has led to nothing, debating wizards in the Hogsmeade square has not changed a single mind, but now… I can put the gifts I was born with to the good service of our people. To be a noble is not merely to stand above our common citizens. Rather, it is to use the position we were born to to serve and protect them.” He looked to Robert as he said it. “My great cousin Robert taught me that.” 

“Well, you’ve certainly rehearsed that piece.” Matthew noted with cold ice in his voice. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I explicitly forbade you from going anywhere near this war. You willfully disobeyed me.” 

Harry stood even straighter if it was possible. “I have only done what I believed to be right. What my conscience told me I must. What man would I be if I did any less?” 

“A man who knows to honor the word of his father!” Matthew barked. “I told you to protect our family while I’m gone! How is this looking after them?” 

“Papa, I’d still be gone most of the year for classes. By ministry law I would have been required to. My military service waves me of that requirement and puts a conclusion to my required schooling. With my leave allotments I’ll have more opportunity to visit Downton than in the last four years combined. There’s more I can do to watch over mama than ever.” 

Matthew spent a good few seconds staring into his son’s eyes, barely moving a muscle. Then he said, “I refuse to grant my permission to this endeavor. I say now that I forbid it.” 

Harry looked away. “It is not your permission to grant any longer, papa. I have already signed on. I have already completed officer training. And I have already been assigned to a unit soon departing to the front. To refuse my orders now would lead to a court marshall.”

“I can write to the War Office. Tell them there’s been a mistake and you were never meant to-” 

“I already asked Mr. Napier to inform my superiors that you’d try that. They have a rejection letter already penned should you attempt it now.”  

“So that’s it, then? The will of your father means nothing now?”

The wizard’s gaze returned to that of his parent. “In any other circumstance it would mean everything to me. But the need of my nation in this moment is greater. I have the skill, the drive, and the responsibility to serve. The world is in shambles, and I need to do my own small part to make it better.” 

The blonde man nodded slowly and turned his back on his son. “Then get out.” 

Harry blinked. He’d been expecting the rage, but not… this. “Papa-” 

“Don’t ‘papa’ me, Harry.” Matthew still did not turn around. “You’re man enough to make your own decisions now. Man enough to serve your country and disregard the man who raised you. Be man enough to live on your own means then.” 

Mary started in her seat and snatched at his hand. “Matthew-” 

“Don’t, Mary.” The blonde stared directly out the window. “Harry’s an officer now. He’s making his own decisions. He might as well make his own way in the world from now on too.” 

Robert cleared his throat. “Cousin Matthew, surely you are taking this a bit far?” 

“No, I’m taking this just far enough, Cousin Robert, and I’ll thank you to leave the parenting of my child to me.” Addressing said child once more, he said, “Harry, so long as you wear that uniform you are not to step foot in Downton again. I will not look at the constant reminder of your disobedience when I come to visit. And until you are ready to apologize for this gross action of insubordination and beg for my forgiveness, I do not want to see your face. Now I say again, get out.” 

Harry stiffly saluted to his father’s back, nodded to a very worried Robert and Cora, smiled sadly to Edith and Sybil, and looked at his mother as he placed his hand over his heart. Then he turned on his heel and marched back out the door through which he’d come. 

Following A Very Tense Dinner 

Mary rushed behind her husband back to their rooms and slammed the door behind her the moment their feet were over the threshold. “Take it back, Matthew!” She didn’t scream it. Mary was too well-bred for something so crass, but her tone made it clear from the jump just how serious she was. 

“I can’t, Mary.” Mathew didn’t turn around as he yanked his coat off and threw it on the chair across the room. “I won’t back down from this. Harry needs to leave the army. He needs to stay here. And the only way he ‘might’ do that is if everything else is at risk to him. More than that, he needs to listen to his father. I know what’s best for him!” 

“Matthew!” Mary stomped over to him, took hold of his arm, and yanked him around only to see fresh tears beginning to build in his eyes. “Matthew? Matthew, tell me what is truly wrong here. Speak to me.” She reached up and cupped his face. “Be honest with your wife. Why are you ‘really’ pushing our child away?” 

Matthew sighed, and leaned into her hand as if it were a lifeline. “I ‘am’ angry, Mary. Angrier than I’ve ever been at that boy. I don’t know where he’s gotten that rebellious streak from but it’s poisoning him in the worst way now. But more than that… He’s not the first boy too young who joined the army. He thinks it’s all honorable fights, just like they did. He thinks this war is noble, just like they did. He thinks fighting over there is the only way of protecting what’s really important here, just like they did. And the universal horror is that all of ‘them’ died in those trenches just as brutally as everyone else. Boys, barely out of school, butchered by artillery shells, torn apart by machine gun fire or, worse, poisoned and blinded to die in agony by the gas. And all of those boys had family back home waiting for letters that will never come.” 

He took a deep breath and finished with, “I can’t do it, Mary… I can’t be waiting for letters from Harry. I can’t hope for something and then never receive it. Not from him. I need him gone. I need him cut off. Because the only way I’ll be able to convince myself that he’s still alive is if I receive no news at all. No news means he hasn’t died. No news means he isn’t lying with his entrails cut open in a muddy trench. No news means-” He choked up at the end and Mary pulled him into a hug, not minding in the least the way he started to shake against her. 

“He’s our son, Matthew. He’ll always be that.” She whispered in his ear. “And when this is all over he will forgive you.” 

“No he won’t.” The blonde answered at the same volume. “And he’ll be right not to. But if he’s still alive once all this is through, it’ll be worth it. And if I never hear from him again then at least in my mind he’ll still be here. Still breathing our same air. Still walking our same trails. And still thinking of us in his dreams. If he never forgives me… then to my mind at least he’ll still be alive to hate me.”

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. All properties herein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Note : Again, playing a little loose with the actual timeline of the war, and moving rather quickly as a result. This is because the main story I have planned takes place once hostilities are actually ended. 

Chapter Seven - Interludes & Letters

It had been a few weeks since the disastrous family dinner, and Matthew had long since traveled back to the front with young William from their servant staff assigned as his personal servant. It had been a stressful time but Mary and the rest of the family now found themselves ecstatic as they had sat down to breakfast only to discover Doyle clacking his beak against the glass of the window with a letter strapped to his claws. 

At once the heiress had opened the window and let the bird hop onto her arm, wherein she’d deposited it on the table and fed it a strip of bacon before snatching the missive up. 

“Well,” Robert hurried her on with what he hoped was calm decorum, rather than the real excitement he felt, as he took his seat. “Don’t leave us in suspense, Mary. What does it say?” 

The eldest Crawley daughter practically tore the letter open and devoured its contents. “Harry writes that he’s settled in well into his new unit. Apparently he trained with them for a month before coming to see us here, so they’re already chummy enough, but they’ve run a few missions together now and he feels like he’s actually making friends.” 

“Well that’s good.” Cora noted around a sip of her morning tea. “Especially considering how he said he left things with his former friends at Hogwarts. Do these soldiers have names?” 

“Yes…” Mary perused the letter again to make sure she got it right. “He says they’re called the Shelby brothers. It seems the men of their family all enlisted together and managed to get posted together. They’re from Birmingham.” 

Violet chuckled at the memories those words brought her. “Birmingham? Well, it’s certainly an industrial area if nothing else. I once hired a very good handmaid from there. Those people are good, hearty, and tough stock. Harry could ask for no better countrymen to watch his back. I say, their boys know how to handle themselves in a scrap if anyone does.” Seeing everyone’s awed looks, she asked, “What? I’ve traveled in my time; and I’m old enough to have met at least one person from everywhere.” 

“Moving on,” Robert regained the focus of their conversation, “what else does young Harry have to say?”

“Hm… Oh, he says after leaving Downton he stayed with them for the three weeks remaining before his deployment and he’s become very close with the eldest brother, Arthur, who is now teaching him to box. Apparently this Arthur fellow has also joked about adopting him into their family after hearing about the little spat Harry had with Matthew. I’m not sure what to think about that, but at least he has people that care about him. It seems he’s also getting on well with another brother named Thomas, and… oh my…” 

Now Cora was the one that couldn’t help being in suspense. “Mary, dear, what is it now?” 

Mary read the passage again to be sure she hadn’t gotten it wrong. Then explained, “Well, he claims to have met their sister as well. A girl named Ada. And… he calls her the most ‘ beautiful creature he’s ever beheld ’. Oh dear.” 

“Oh dear, indeed.” Violet worried her cane in front of her at those words. “Adopted or not, Harry is a member of the Crawley family. He deserves better than some no-name girl from Birmingham. He’d at least warrant a baroness.” 

Robert blinked. “What happened to those people being good, hearty, and tough stock?” 

The Dowager Countess scoffed. “Being good people doesn’t mean they’re equally good for marriage. There’s an order to things. Goodness, does the lady even own land? What would she have to provide as a dowry?” 

Sybil spoke up then. “Gran, there are more important things in life than what your partner can give to you. And we don’t even know if his feelings toward this girl are serious yet. Right now it just sounds like Cousin Harry has a crush. And why shouldn’t he? He’s about to go to war and he’s met someone beautiful. Let him have the memory of her.” 

“Sybil is right… for now.” Mary conceded. “But that about covers it. He sends us all his love and hopes that we’ll continue to live safe here in Downton. He promises to write more to us soon.” She almost set the letter down, but then seemed to counter her thought as she flipped it over and noticed a couple more lines of script. “Also, ooh… I haven’t the foggiest what this means.” 

“Really?” Robert crossed the room and moved to try and read the article over her shoulder. “What does it say?” 

“Well, he says that he doesn’t want us to worry, but that his unit has been assigned for something called ‘tunneling duty ’. Whatever is that, papa? Papa?” She turned to look at the man, and grew very nervous at the way his face had paled. “Papa, what is it?” 

Robert shook himself back to the present and forced a reassuring smile onto his face. “I’m sorry, my dear. I was merely thinking back to some fellows I knew who did something similar many years ago. Tunneling duty means that his unit will be attempting to reach the enemy position underground, while also attempting to prevent their crews from doing the same to our side. It is an admittedly dangerous and nerve-wracking job to undertake, but at the very least he won’t be facing open shell-fire.” 

“Well… at least there is that.” And after settling the letter back onto the table, Mary offered yet another prayer to whoever might be listening that her little boy would make it home once everything was said and done. 

Six Months Later

“We have another letter!” Mary announced into the library as she approached her gathered family. At once everyone was grouping around in preparation of hearing what promised to be good news. The staff was busy working to alter the massive home into a convalescent facility for wounded troops, and as a result any sort of good or uplifting news was in short supply. 

Edith especially was feeling the mood and was quick to ask for the details of her favorite nephew. It was a point of great relief for Mary as motherhood, more than anything else, had helped to mend bridges with her sisters. Caring for another had done wonders to help mitigate her own natural moroseness. It had made the last year incredibly difficult as Harry had followed his father’s instructions to the letter and not returned at any time the man himself was scheduled to be there. One visit in a year was far from enough for their tastes. 

So, the heiress hurried to rip the item open. “Let’s see… oh my!” She held a hand to her heart for a moment to still her heart before explaining, “He… he says not to worry, but that he was injured saving his unit in a collapsing tunnel two weeks back. He’s currently recovering in a field hospital, but with the right potions supply he’ll be back in the field in a week.” 

Edith offered, “Maybe he could come back here to heal?” 

Robert shook his head negatively. “Sadly, no. By the time we could get him here he’d already be healed and ready for service once more. If I know Harry at all, he won’t want to be far from his men any longer than he has to. No, it’s unfortunate, but he’ll be best served where he is. The fact that he’s well enough to write to us at all is a sure sign of his vitality.” 

“Yes. Yes, of course you are right.” Mary shakily nodded before getting back to the letter. “There’s more. Apparently, after the tunnel collapsed, his unit came up directly under an entrenched unit from America and helped them turn the tide against a German assault. He says they’ve apparently been added to his unit in a joint operation between their government and ours called Operation Mole Hunt. He can’t go into details, but he’s excited.” 

Again, Robert had some insight. “I’d wager with a name like that they’ll be going after German tunnelers directly. And having some Americans on his side will only bolster his fighting ability. Say what you will about our cousins across the sea, but they certainly know how to fight.” 

Violet offered a rare chuckle at the thought. “I’d certainly say so if they managed to push our armies back in their rebellion.” 

“Putting aside your thoughts on American independence, Granny,” Mary smiled, “the letter goes on. Let’s see, it seems he has three new comrades as a result of this merger. A gentleman from Montana named Spencer Dutton, and someone named Smokestack. Wait, no, it’s a pair of twins named Smoke ‘and’ Stack.” 

“Fascinating.” Edith muttered. “These Americans certainly have interesting naming dynamics.” 

“Indeed. And apparently this Dutton fellow’s family owns about the same amount of land back in the States as London.” 

“Impossible.” Violet gasped. 

“Apprently not.” Mary gestured with the letter. “I’ve never known Harry to lie. It’s certainly impressive if true. Though for a country without its own nobility I suppose it makes a certain sort of sense that land owners would become the new higher class.” She read a bit more and sighed sadly. “He also says his next leave date has been cancelled. There’s a new operation mounting and the brass wants him ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.” 

Robert comforted his daughter with a firm grip on the shoulder. “These things happen in war, dear. Harry is a soldier now, and that means the needs of the many come first.” 

“I know, papa. I just…” She looked back to the halls behind them where the staff were still bustling around carting new beds into the home proper. “After reading this I can’t help wondering when it’ll be that he’ll be filling one of those beds.” Tears began to build at the edges of her eyes then. “For the first time… I’m starting to understand why Matthew prefers no news at all.” 

Six Months Later

Mary held Matthew’s hand as he took yet another delighted lap around the main floor. It had been a harrowing half year. First, the news of Harry’s injury had come through, then her husband had been sent to their home only a few weeks after, having been exposed to the concussive force of an artillery shell going off right next to him. Sadly, his body-man, William, formerly of their serving staff, hadn’t survived the incident; and the heir himself had been seemingly crippled on his end. 

He had spent months stuck in his bed, then later being wheeled around the property in a chair by his wife. They’d started to make their peace with the idea that he wouldn’t be able to dance with her any longer, only to experience a small miracle a few days back when Matthew had woken up feeling his toes again. What had followed were several small jaunts like this one to regain some of the muscle that he had lost, paired with some of the first real smiles they’d shared since the start of the war. 

Only one thing had dimmed the heiress’s spirit. That being Matthew’s insane stubbornness in regards to their son. The man had absolutely refused to let her write to their son to inform him of his former injured state or his recovery. The foolish man was insisting that he was standing by his orders and would not under any circumstances allow for any contact with Harry until the war was through. And even then, only if the boy apologized for joining the army against his orders. The first was for his peace of mind that the boy still lived, and the second was a point of ‘pride’ that he refused to do away with. 

It was frustrating to say the least. Especially considering that she had been consistently writing to her son since he’d left for the front all that time ago; but she supposed it could have been worse. Matthew could have ordered no contact for any of them. Instead, he seemed to realize the pain such a requirement would cause the family and focused on his own countenance instead. 

Mary had tried on more than one occasion to make her husband change his mind, but the Grantham heir would not be moved. Either the war had to end or Harry had to be taken out of it. No two ways about it. And so it was that Mary wistfully thought back to the last letter she’d received as she continued walking with her husband around the mansion. If things continued this well for him in the coming days then they planned for further jaunts around the estate by next week. 

The missive had been a terse note from Harry stating that if his father was home for good, then he couldn’t risk taking leave to come back to a place he was not welcome. Instead, he’d rather use his time to better look after his men. It seemed that he’d come by the information on Matthew’s injuries through his own sources (Mary suspected her father of writing to him in secret) and now ‘she’ too would need to wait for either the end of the conflict or, god forbid, injury to bring her boy home sooner….

Meanwhile, looking down from a balcony on the second floor, Charlus Potter, known to the other Nurse orderlies as Charlie Pots, allowed himself a small smile at the sight of the mostly happy couple moving around below him. It had taken a while to get to this point. The road had started with a lot of soul-searching after Harry had left school. It hadn’t taken long at all to figure out why he had. And Charlus had discovered through his introspection that in effect he ‘had’ been acting like a coward. Not for wanting to avoid battle, as Harry had thought, but because he had the skills to do worlds of good for his country in other ways and had been too scared to attempt to apply them. 

So it was that when next the Crown’s Recruiter had come to Hogwarts he’d gone up to the man and asked if it was possible to apply his potions skills as a local medic to try and speed the recovery of wounded soldiers brought home from the front. The recruiter had nearly teared up at the thought, a fact that still brought Charlus feelings of shame for how long it had taken him to ask. How many innocents had suffered longer than necessary to recover from the horrors of war just because he hadn’t done his duty sooner? And how often had he stood by while this brave recruiter had been forced to debase himself practically begging for aid in front of endless groups of unwilling English wizards in the hope that they’d do the right thing by their country? He couldn’t make up for any of that in the moment, but his actions going forward just might. 

From there he had bounced from recovery ward to recovery ward, always seeing to the most critically wounded where he found them. The blind, the maimed, the crippled, one after the other he slipped into their bunk rooms at night and fed them potions that healed all as best as was possible until they were right as rain again. Or, as close as it was possible for them to become. When word had arrived about the new use of the ancestral home of the Crawley’s, Charlus had seen it as a divine sign. He’d transferred over that very day, and within a week he’d been surprised by the sight of a crippled Matthew Crawley. 

Charlus had not been able to keep his best friend’s trust or respect, but the least he could do to make up for that loss was to save Harry’s father from his fate. Once more, his potions had saved what modern medicine had deemed lost. 

Six Months Later

“Oh dear.” Mary groaned and rubbed her eyes tiredly as she let her latest letter tumble from shuddering fingers.

Cora, who had been reading with her in her room, immediately moved over to her chair and asked, "Whatever is the matter, dear?”

“It’s… It’s Harry again. He says… he says something horrible happened last week. He knows that papa still gets letters and reports from his friends in the War Office, and he didn’t want me to hear it from anyone else and get worried. He… he was captured a short time ago.” 

Cora raised a hand to her mouth in horror. “Captured?” 

“Yes. Apparently one of their tunnels broke through into another. All part of the plan, he says. But the enemy was waiting for them. Harry summoned his men back behind him before collapsing the tunnel mouth after them so the Germans couldn’t get back through. He saved his soldiers… but he was knocked out seconds later.” 

Mary gulped slowly, and forced herself to lean down and retrieve the letter. She pressed it hard to her chest as she continued, “He says they tried to question him, but he wouldn’t tell them anything. So then they tried to shoot him, but he willed the barrels to aim wide in a burst of magic. Then… then they tried to hang him.” Fresh sobs burst from the heiress’s mouth as her mother immediately leapt forth and pulled the weeping girl into her arms. “H-Harry writes that he blacked out, and he didn’t see what happened next for himself, but apparently his men disobeyed Command’s orders and dug a fresh tunnel to his location, killed his captors, and brought him back for medical treatment. He’s alive. He’s doing well. But with how spotty regular communications are he worried that we’d only hear the beginning of the tale and become frantic. Oh, mama, he almost died!” 

Cora cooed in her daughter’s ear and held her all the tighter for her sorrow. Yes, she’d worried for her Robert when he’d gone off to war the first time, but he’d never faced anything like this. She didn’t know what it was to worry and despair to this level, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t here for her child now. And here she most definitely needed to be. Matthew would be no help in the matter and, even as an adult, she knew that a daughter still needed her mother on occasion. 

“Was there anything else, dear?” 

Mary sniffled a bit more before managing to mutter, “Yes. Apparently that Ada girl he’s written of in the past has become a field nurse, and she immediately moved to his bedside to offer care herself once her brothers managed to write to her of what had happened. Harry writes that he’s ‘perfectly happy being cared for’ and that there’s no further reason to worry. Honestly… I’m starting to like this girl. Her status aside.” 

“Well, dear, it’s a new age we’re moving into now. Just think, in Violet’s age, Robert marrying an American like me would have been unthinkable. So who knows what changes the future will bring us now to the classes.” 

One Year Later

It was finally done. The war had reached its brutal end and all the papers were rejoicing for the conclusion of hostilities in Europe. Down in the town below, the nobles could all hear the common folk celebrating the return of their sons, brothers, and fathers, but in the mansion above a different reaction was taking place. 

Mary was clutching a fresh letter to her chest and bawling her eyes out as she kept pushing a frantic Matthew away from attempting to comfort her. It had been going on for ten minutes by that point, and at last Robert couldn’t take it anymore. He led his wife out of the room for a shred of privacy and asked, “Cora, what the hell is happening in there?” 

His American wife sighed and explained, “Harry wrote to Mary to explain his plans now that the war is over. He says that he cannot bring himself to apologize to Cousin Matthew for joining the war effort when his convictions said it was something that he had to do. He couldn’t apologize when he informed his father of his plans at the start, and he can’t do it now. So he writes that he will not be coming home to Downton. Rather, he is going back to Birmingham with his unit. They’ve got some sort of business operation going over there and he’s been offered a part in it. He’s not sure if he’ll like being back in a city, but he wants to give it a go.” A sly look came to her eyes as she added, “Though I suspect a certain lady in Birmingham might be of more interest to the boy than a job.” 

Robert was aghast at what he was hearing. “Cora, this cannot stand. Harry’s place is here with his family.” 

“And I agree.” Cora reassured him. “The problem is getting Matthew to let go of his damned pride just this once. Once we manage that we can try to bring him back; but until then, might I suggest getting back in there and trying to comfort your daughter? For the moment, she has just lost a son, after all.” 

“And right when so many others are getting theirs back.” Robert nodded and returned to the room, already planning how he was going to work to bring Matthew around at the first opportunity. 

Chapter Text

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter, Downton Abbey, or Peaky Blinders. All properties herein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love. 

Chapter Eight - Welcome To Birmingham

One Year Later

“Cousin Robert, are you sure this is the sort of place you want to open up a business in?” Matthew asked as he and the Earl of Grantham continued walking through the industrial district of Birmingham. “It seems a rather… harsh environment.” Idly he dodged a couple of soot-stained and shirtless men carrying a steel beam between them out from a blacksmithy to a neighboring factory. After them, he did the same to avoid colliding with a group of drunken men stumbling down the way. It wasn’t even noon yet! Everywhere he looked was yet more bustle of activity and depravity. 

Robert blinked at his younger relative as he continued moving towards his ultimate goal. “I’m not opening a new business, Matthew. Rather, I’m investing in one already operating here. A series of worker strikes have lowered the share costs of eight different steel refineries in Birmingham, and I’ve bought a healthy sum at a discount. Initially I wanted to invest in a railway in Canada, but I had some… advice, that put my mind in the range of Birmingham instead.” 

“Cousin Violet?” 

“Well,” Robert hedged, “she had some choice, and rather astute, words to say about investing in our own country instead of another. She swayed me to her way of thinking and here we are. It helps that I have it on good authority from some contacts in the government that these strikes are soon to end; and when the factories reopen in full then our family stands to make a very healthy profit. All the same, I want to see the places for myself so I know what our money has bought. And as the future Earl, it is imperative that you know where our money is going as well.” 

“Well, at least the women will be secure enough in the hotel.” Matthew noted as the first factory came into sight ahead of them. “I shudder to think what Mary would think of all this if she saw it.” And indeed, he worried a great deal for her emotional state. She’d been an emotional wreck for weeks after the end of the war, and it was only in the last few months that she’d started to come back out of her shell. 

“...Yes…” Robert hedged. “The horror.” 

Meanwhile

“Are you sure about this, Mary?” Sybil asked as she and her sister finished their short trek across the street between their handsome cab and a rather dangerous looking pub with a sign over the door noting it as the Garrison . “I’ve got a feeling we’ll definitely stand out in a place like this.” 

“That’s the point, Sybil.” Mary steeled herself and tightened her gloves over her hands before marching the rest of the way to the front door and wrapping her fingers around the handle. “All of Harry’s letters list this pub as the return address, so if we want to find him then this is surely the place to do so; and standing out will just mean better odds of someone telling him about us if we miss him.” 

Sybil smiled at the false bravado expressed by her sister. Especially since said woman had yet to actually pull the door open. Rather than comment on that fact, she moved the rest of the way to the door herself and offered her arm in support. “Well, let’s get to it then.” Together they pulled the door open on its hinges and made their way inside. 

The interior of the space proved far more hospital than its exterior, with a great deal of warm natural light, nicely carved wooden furniture, and a clean barfront with a classily dressed individual standing behind it wiping a mug clean with his hand towel. There were of course several individuals already drunk in corner booths, but the sisters were given to understanding that that was normal in pretty much every bar the country over; especially so since the end of the war. 

Pointedly not staring at the day-drunks, the sisters hurried to find seats at the bar where Mary cleared her throat lightly to gain the bartender’s attention. “Excuse me, but would you perchance have a wine menu we might peruse?” 

The barman looked back and forth between the clearly uppercrust new clients and stated, “You’re clearly in the wrong place.” 

Becoming slightly affronted at that brusk denouncement, Sybil declared, “I’ll have you know that we are ‘exactly’ in the ‘right’ place, sir. Now, what are your wine options?” 

“Well,” The man placed the glass he’d been working on onto the bar and stroked his thin mustache, “we have red… and white. Nothing too fancy around these parts, mind you. As I said, if you’re looking for the good stuff then you’re in the wrong place.” 

Mary sighed and waved a hand lazily in the air. “We’ll take two glasses of the red, then.” 

The man huffed slightly before walking to the other end of the bar, retrieving a bottle, and topping off two glasses that he slid over to the waiting noblewomen. Once he received his payment, he reiterated, “Seriously, I think you lasses are in the wrong place. It ain’t exactly the locale for ladies of your… sensibilities.” 

The elder sister took a small sip and decided the wine could have been far worse. “Again, we aren’t. Actually, we’re looking for someone. Someone who lives around these parts.” 

“Aye, and who might that be?” The bartender leaned onto the surface of his bar so he could listen with some level of discretion. 

After another polite sip, the heiress explained, “Harry Crawley.” 

All at once the man’s ever-present look of wary humor disappeared, along with any other expression he might have sported. “Look, I don’t talk about the Shelbys or their affiliates. You’ll need to go somewhere else for that.” 

Mary blinked. That had almost sounded like fear in the man’s voice. “I’m not asking about the Shelbys. I’m asking about Harry Crawley.” 

“And I said-” The man’s next words were interrupted by a light throat clearing behind him. All eyes turned back to a familiar figure currently standing at the door to the back room. 

“Thomas!” Mary brightened at once at the sight of the familiar footman and valet, though his matching outfit with the man she’d just been speaking to raised more than a few questions. Though some of them were answered as she watched Thomas come to the bar, squeeze the bartender’s hand gently just behind the wood where none but them could see, and send him moving back into the storeroom he’d just been apparently working in. The door closed ‘very’ firmly behind him.

“Sorry about that.” Thomas rested his elbows on the bar so he could speak at a more easy volume with the guests. “Fenton always gets a bit nervous whenever the Shelbys get brought up by people he doesn’t know. He worries they’ll take offense should he say anything; and around here, ‘offense’ tends to mean your business burning down.” 

Sybil grinned. “Well, if you’re here then Harry has to be too.” 

Thomas groaned and ran a hand back through his hair. “Not for a long time. Look, there’s a lot of history here, and I’m really not the man to talk to about it.” 

Mary blinked. “Not the man to talk to about it?” She repeated. “You were Harry’s valet, and it clearly seems like you found your way back to him after the war.” 

The former valet shook his head. “Actually, no. It was more of an ironic coincidence that we ended up in the same place again. You see, I was a medic in the war. It was where I met” his lips turned up in a fond smile as he looked back to the storeroom, “my… business partner, Harry Fenton. He asked me to come back here with him once peace returned, and I did. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the Shelby brothers had brought your Harry back with them too.” 

“So he is here?” Sybil tried to clarify. 

“No.” Thomas shook his head. “He was. Look, give me ten minutes and I’ll bring someone that can explain things.” The man poured a pair of extra complementary glasses of wine to keep the women for the wait, and quickly set off out the door. 

Not long later he came back in, retook his place behind the bar, and said, “Whatever happens next, please do not freak out.” 

Before anyone could ask what he meant, the front door crashed open and a burly voice yelled out, “Who the fuck is asking about Harry Crawley!” 

The women turned in their stools and saw a rather handsome man with slicked back hair and an impressive mustache glaring at anything and everything in sight… until his eyes landed on the women at the other end of the room. At once his glower disappeared, replaced with an insanely welcoming smile as he crossed the floor to greet them. 

Mary stood up, intent on offering her hand for a firm shake, only to find herself squawking in surprise as the man yanked her by the shoulders into a warm embrace. When he at last released her he said, “Mary Crawley. You look exactly like Harry always described you.” He turned to her sister and blinked. “But he never mentioned having such a beautiful sister.” 

Sybil found herself blushing to high heaven as the man, instead of a hug, took her hand and kissed her knuckles thoroughly. “I-I’m actually his a-aunt by marriage.” 

“Hm…” The man gave her knuckles a final smooch before at last releasing them. “You’d never know it by looking at you. I’ve never known an ‘aunt’ so beautiful. I’m Arthur Shelby.” 

“Arthur!” Now it was Mary’s turn to surprise him by throwing ‘her’ arms around him. “Harry’s friend!” 

“Yes. Though after what we went through I’d say brothers is a bit more accurate. He certainly took enough bullets for us to earn that right.” Arthur enjoyed the hug for a few seconds before pulling away, looking at Thomas, and jerking a thumb at his private room. The man got the message loud and clear and nodded, imparting without the need for words that he’d be sure no one sat close enough to overhear anything. Then the gangster led his guests inside and closed the door behind them. 

Once everyone was seated, he said, “What brings you to my side of the tracks?” 

Seeing her sister was still all blushes, and finding it endlessly funny, Mary decided to take the lead. “I’m trying to find my son, Mr. Shelby. All of his letters have arrived care of the Garrison , so I’d hoped to find him here. Yet Thomas says that is not the case? I find myself frightfully confused.” 

Arthur nodded slowly before tapping the window behind him. A second later it slid open and Thomas handed him a bottle of whiskey and a glass before sliding it closed. This conversation was going to require alcohol. “To explain where Harry is, I’ll need to explain what happened after the war.” He poured a finger of whiskey and knocked it back with ease. “Not all of us came back… whole. Harry was one of those. Being in a city felt, to him, like he was constantly surrounded on all sides; like he was back in the tunnels. He was never able to relax and he saw enemies everywhere. The doctors assigned pills, the experts tried to get him on opiates to help his sleep, and Ada tried to get him to stop sleeping with a gun under his pillow when he did manage to nod off. None of it worked.” 

“My poor boy.” Mary lamented as she reached over the table for the next glass and knocked it back for herself.

Arthur gave the woman an appreciative look before continuing. “During the war, Harry was the best shot of any of us. The first to act to any potential threat. He almost had a sixth sense for it. But from the moment he got back country-side his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. No one knew how to help him. No one except Tommy.” 

Finally breaking free of her stupor, Sybil asked, “Tommy?” 

“Thomas, my younger brother.” Arthur clarified. “He’d watched Harry suffer for three months without a fix, and he got tired of it; so he ordered Ada to throw all of his medications away and then brought Harry out behind the Garrison where he set up some targets and put a rifle back in his hands. Harry took down all four in three seconds, and for the first time since the war ended, his hands weren’t shaking no more. Tommy said it best then. Harry didn’t need medications or opiates. He just needed to keep fighting. So we found a way for him to do that.” 

“That’s barbaric.” Sybil noted. 

“No, that’s human nature.” Arthur defended. “Some people just can’t lock the animal within back into a cage once it’s been let out. Harry is like that. Luckily, another member of our unit was as well, so we had some options. Our boy might have written to you about Spencer?” 

Mary nodded. “Dutton? The American?” 

“That’s him. Turned out he had a lot of the same problems that Harry did, and he ended up solving them by heading to the most wide-open place he could find and killing in the name of the Crown all over again. He became a hunter of maneaters in Africa, and when we wrote to him about Harry, Spencer was more than happy to have an old comrade to watch his back.” 

The heiress took that in slowly. “So Harry is… in Africa?” 

“That’s the short of it. He’s been routing his mail through here and trusting us to forward it to where it needs to go from there.” Arthur leaned forward on the table. “The long of it, however, is that the Shelby Clan has need of our brother again, and we were just getting ready to send a party out to collect him. Your timing couldn’t have been better if you’d planned it. So how about it? Wanna tag along?” 

Mary swallowed thickly and nodded. “I would be delighted. Moreover, I will arrange the travel particulars with my family. I’m sure we can reach our shared destination faster with our resources. Will it just be you coming with us?” 

Arthur shrugged. “Me and my brother Tommy.” 

The heiress laughed happily at that reminder. “Tommy! Harry almost wrote about him as much as you. I can’t wait to meet him!” 

“I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.” Arthur hedged, his eyes turning back to Sybil a moment later. “And would you be joining the venture as well, madam? I certainly would love the chance to get to know my brother’s… aunt.” 

For her part, Sybil returned to her former blushing state and nodded, not used to the naked desire that the mustachioed man was looking upon her with. “I-I will of course be coming. But you should tell Thomas not to mention Harry’s name out loud until we get there.” 

Arthur tilted his head curiously. “Why?” 

“It’s complicated.” Mary answered this time. “Suffice it to say that it’s just important that my husband Matthew not hear our son’s name until it’s too late to run away.” 

“Ah.” Arthur nodded. “Now I remember. Harry mentioned his old man wasn’t the supportive sort. Drove Ada bonkers that did.” 

Mary blinked. “Whyever so? And is she around here? I’d hoped to meet her on this trip and thank her for caring for Harry after his… imprisonment.” 

The Birmingham native gave her an odd look. “Harry didn’t mention her?” He burst out laughing when the woman merely shook her head. “Those two were shacked up together pretty much the moment we got back from the war. Harry must have proposed to my sister five times before heading to Africa, and every time she declared she wouldn’t accept unless he could ensure that both you and your husband were at the marriage ceremony. She’s pretty traditional like that sometimes. Honestly, I just think she thought ‘he’ would need you there more, but she won’t admit it. Anyway, she left for Africa with Harry.” 

“Really?” Sybil gasped.

“Really.” Arthur confirmed. “You couldn’t keep those two apart if you tried. And Harry’s love was so real he even managed to convince Tommy and Aunt Polly to give their blessings. It’s a thing to see.” 

“Well,” Mary downed another needed mouthful of whiskey, “I cannot wait to behold it myself. If Ada is indeed woman enough to draw my son’s eye, then I definitely want to meet her. If only to give her my blessing as well.” She sighed and leaned further back into her booth. “After all, she was there for my boy when I was not.” 

Clearly looking uncomfortable, Arthur noted, “Mrs. Crawley, please know that Harry never once had a bad thing to say about you. After he took a bullet for me… for the third time… he went into a bit of a fever fugue and your name was the only one on his lips. He loved you, and I’m sure he still does.” 

Arthur stood and offered a proper salute. “And as his loyal brother in arms, I am honored to accompany you on your mission of reconciliation.” 

“A soldier and a gentleman.” Sybil gasped. 

Meanwhile, Mary merely smiled at her sister. If nothing else, this trip might have provided Sybil with a new beau.