Chapter Text
It turned out that Alfred's biological father was both English and a wizard. Oddly enough, it was the English part that the boy found most surprising - because Alfred F. Jones had always known he must be special in some way, so, naturally, he took the news that he had magical powers completely in his stride.
Sure, every other kid in the world thinks they'll grow up to be a superstar or a hero one day (if not both), but Alfred had been certain it was true in his case. He just knew he was different to everybody else - and destined for greatness, at that. He'd simply been waiting for the inevitable day when he gained world-saving superpowers, or was visited by aliens looking for the next great Jedi Knight.
Finding out that he was part of a secret wizarding world hidden behind the scenes of everyday life therefore seemed completely reasonable to Alfred, and his mother was honestly a little disturbed by how quickly he'd accepted the news. She'd been dreading having this conversation with her son since the day he was born - expecting to have to explain to a terrified child that the world as they knew it was a lie, and witchcraft and monsters really did exist. But when Alfred received his Hogwarts letter the summer of his eleventh birthday, Mrs. Jones knew it was time to tell the truth.
And all Alfred wanted to know about was his biological father.
Mrs. Jones was actually a little put out. Alfred’s birth father was nobody to them anymore, and she wanted Alfred to be more focused on the life changing magic business than a man who had been a stranger to them for the past 11 years.
"Did you know there's a magic school in Salem?" she asked. "Right here in America, there's a school for witches and wizards and nobody even knows!" Perhaps Alfred just didn’t understand the true depth of the magic world, didn’t realise that it wasn’t just contained in a little school in Britain but a vast shadow that stretched the globe, hiding under the surface of their own normal lives. Maybe if she explained a bit more, he’d turn his thoughts to the magic rather than the estranged father he’d never known.
"Oh, that makes sense," was all Alfred said, busy trying to choose which comics to pack in his suitcase. "Not all American witches and wizards could go to school in England, so there would have to be a school here, too. Say, did my birth dad go to Hogwarts, too?"
"Um, I think so,” his mother said, taken aback by Alfred’s blithe response. “But, i-imagine!" she tried again, desperately. "How many thousands and thousands of wizards there must be living amongst us in secret! You probably see some every day and can't even tell!" Maybe she was being a little dramatic, but she just wanted Alfred to be as shocked by all this as she had been. He'd been living as an ordinary, clueless 'Muggle' up until now - surely it wasn't normal for him to be so calm about the whole thing!
"Yeah, I'll have to ask my birth dad how to make sure nobody figures out the truth," Alfred smiled, turning the conversation back to his favourite topic of the moment. "He must be really good at hiding his magic side if he kept it from you for all that time!"
"W-well, we didn't really know each other that long…" his mother mumbled. (She still hadn't come entirely clean about the nature of their relationship. Alfred was a bit too young to understand the concept of a quick fling during a holiday abroad in college.)
"Say, does my birth dad have a cool accent?" Alfred barrelled on, not noticing his mother's embarrassment. "Will I get a cool accent faster because I'm half-English? Or do I have to spend loads of time in England first? I don't want to lose my American-ness, but it would be cool to be able to speak fluently in two different accents!"
"U-um...I don't...I don't know…" said Ms. Jones, defeated.
"Do you think my birth dad would like it if I could talk like him?" Alfred asked, not even waiting for an answer before he charged on with more questions. "Does he think American accents are cool? What was he like when you first met? Did you realise he was special? Are all his family wizards, too? Is he married? Does he have a pet dragon? Dragons are real now, right? Does he have any more kids? Where does he live? Does Dad know about him? What should I call my birth dad since I already call Dad 'Dad'? How come he's never come to visit?"
Mrs. Jones slid to the floor, running a hand wearily through the honey-colour hair she shared with her son.
"Alfred, stop packing for a minute," she said. "You've got two weeks before we fly out to London, just listen to me for a moment."
Alfred chucked a pair of sneakers back on his bed and turned to face his mother, both of them sitting cross-legged on the floor of his messy bedroom. Mrs. Jones reached out and held her son's hands, running her thumbs over the soft skin and trying to memorise how small and precious they felt in her own.
"Alfred, are you okay?" she asked, willing him to open up to her. "If you're scared at all, you can tell me. I would understand: I felt exactly the same when Algernon told me about all this magic stuff. I get that you're excited to learn about your biological father but I'm worried you're pushing aside everything else because you don't want to think about it. I know it's a lot to take in, and it must be overwhelming - but don't hide it if you're scared, okay? If you don't want to go to Hogwarts, that's fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, especially not because of your biological dad. Me, Dad, and Mattie - we're still your real family. And we don't think of you any differently just because you're half-wizard."
She gazed carefully into her son's face, watching for any sign of nerves or worry that she might wipe away. But Alfred's bright eyes never faltered, and Mrs. Jones watched her son in amazement as he smiled, exhilarated.
Somehow, his bold spirit still managed to surprise her.
"I'm not scared, Mom. I've been waiting for this my whole life, I just didn't know what I was waiting for until now. I'm so happy I've finally found out what I'm meant to do, and I owe it all to my birth dad. That's why I'm so excited to meet him. It's not like I suddenly love him more than you guys. And you don't have to worry, I'm not going to abandon you for him."
Mrs. Jones' eyes darted away in shame and embarrassment. And here she thought Alfred was oblivious.
But no, he was right. This was what she was really worried about - not the magic and the monsters (well, the monsters came a close second), but losing her son to a man who had never meant anything to either of them, and to a world that she could never be part of...That was the thought that had haunted her since the day she found out her son might have magic blood flowing through his veins.
"I know you guys are still my real family," Alfred continued, drawing his mother's attention back to his sincere and eager eyes. "But that's the whole reason I need to go to Hogwarts."
Mrs. Jones's eyes widened in surprised. "It is?"
Alfred nodded, eagerly. "Of course! I need to go learn more about the wizarding world so I can come back and tell you guys all about it! None of you are wizards, so there's no other way for you to find out the truth without me! Besides, Mattie probably can't go to Hogwarts 'cause you and Dad aren't magic, so I'll have to teach him everything myself!"
Mrs. Jones let go of her son's hands and wrapped her arms around him. As Alfred hugged her back, she scolded herself for wishing he had been more afraid. What kind of mother was she? She should be glad her son was so brave and positive. Sure, she had plenty of worries of her own, but that was a mother's job. There was no reason to project any of that upon her son.
Besides, it just wasn't in Alfred to be scared. New adventures only excited him. She should have known that.
Alfred finally pulled away, and Mrs. Jones's keen, caring eyes noticed a flash of nervousness on his face.
"What's wrong, Alfred?" she asked, instantly.
Alfred fidgeted for a moment on his bedroom floor, refusing to meet her eyes, as if he didn't want to speak up.
"So…" he said, finally. “My dad's name is Algernon?"
He looked up, worried, and Mrs. Jones shared a grimace with him as she nodded.
"Unfortunately, yes. But don't worry: he's not as bad as it sounds."