"Dad, Dad!"

It was uncharacteristic of his sixteen year old son to be heard dead calling to him like that, but he could hear the alarm in Ambrose's voice as they saw each other in the entrance hall that Saturday afternoon.

His teenage son was dressed in casual clothes, jeans with new telltale smudges since they had last seen each other in January at Kings Cross. His hair needed a cut already and his blue eyes were wide. Ambrose did not look at all calm as he hurried down the stairs, nimbly leaping from three steps from the end, trainers carrying him across the polished floor.

How many other students were here feeling equally bewildered and upset, without the possibility of seeing a parent in person? It made Francis feel uneasy. As much as he was grateful to see Ambrose, it was a privilege most would not have.

"Ambrose!" Francis replied, arms extended to his son. "Are you alright, steady - oof." His eldest son gripped him tightly a moment, grateful to see him. It lasted but a couple of seconds before he was released, Ambrose's face beetroot red at the prospect of showing affection to family in front of his peers. Francis kept a hand out to his son's upper arm to anchor them both in the busy chamber.

"You're here because of what happened to Juni, right?" Ambrose questioned anxiously,
"Yes son, I am. Juni, no, she's not caught up in this is she?" Francis nodded and then gripped Ambrose's arm a little more tightly at the news.
"She vanished right in front of me." Ambrose explained hastily, "I thought she'd just eaten a sweet and turned invisible. But she - people say it must have been like a portkey or something. Everyone around me disappeared! I hadn't taken one - I - Dad I don't know where she is, I don't know if she's alright - Dad - does Mr Zamperia know?"
"Breathe Ambrose, breathe. I believe Mihai Zamperia knows, yes. Or he'll know very soon."
"I shouldn't have - we shouldn't-"
"Ambrose, Ambrose,"
"What if she's dead?!"

"Ambrose Pepper!"

The Unspeakable clapped both hands to his son's arms and shook him firmly, frowning. Francis was known to panic on occasion, and he hadn't the greatest track record in a severe crisis, but he did know how easily impressionable and worried his son could be.

"Everyone is doing everything they can. That's why I'm here, son. The Governors have all been called here immediately to see the Headmistress and see what can be done. Look, I don't have all the details yet, but I promise you I will do everything I can to get Juni back." Francis drew breath, trying to bring to mind reassuring words, "and the best thing you can do in this situation is keep calm and follow instructions from your Professors. Come on prefect. People need you. What would Juni say?"

Ambrose's bottom lip trembled a moment before he bit it and dropped his gaze, considering.
"My precious habanero or summin," The Gryffindor shrugged, blushing furiously and mumbling.

"Right…" His father replied, looking to his right as he considered what to say to that, realising it was to do with their family name, "Well you still are her precious habanero. You're a Pepper, Ambrose. We might not be front page news, record breakers or the luckiest in life, but we do the best with what we have, and we stick by each other and our friends, don't we?" Ambrose nodded, breathing out noisily as if he'd been winded by a punch to the stomach.


"Look sharp, Prefect Pepper. Governor Pepper's got to go." Francis thumbed over his shoulder to the staff room door behind him where he'd been called from. "Send Tim and the girls my love. I promise we'll do everything, Ambrose. I want Juni back safe and well with the rest of them as much as you do."

He clapped his son into a brief hug, pressing Ambrose's head to his chest, realising he must have grown another inch or more since Christmas already. Time was moving far too quickly, and once again he was fighting the temptation to turn it back with the aurors in the vain effort it might help solve matters.