Chapter 16 – Between the Glass and the Flames

The year had passed like a breath caught in time, and ten-year-old Jonathan Grace stood on the edge of a world most people couldn't even see.

He and Harry had grown in more ways than age. What began as sparks in the palms and hovering rocks had evolved into a quiet understanding: they were more than strange boys with odd luck. They were something different—magical—and they knew it now without question. The books, the runes, the spells, the light—they were part of it, not accidents. They practiced in secret, theorized late at night, and whispered ideas between maths lessons and grammar drills. The world hadn't noticed, but the two of them had changed.

Harry especially. His clothes, once ragged, now fit him properly—thanks to Annabeth Grace, who had gently passed along Jonathan's tidier, well-kept school uniforms. His face looked brighter, healthier, and his eyes didn't sink into his cheeks anymore. A subtle but real transformation, as though being treated like a human being had coaxed the life back into him.

This morning, though, wasn't about spells or theories.

It was Dudley's birthday, and the plan—miraculously—was to visit the zoo.

Originally, the Dursleys had planned to leave Harry behind, as they always did, but Mrs. Figg was out of commission after tripping over one of her cats. And when Jonathan's mother offered to bring Harry along with them instead, the Dursleys had reluctantly agreed. Michael Grace, as usual, was indifferent as long as Jonathan was safe and stayed out of trouble.

The zoo was crowded, but the animals didn't seem to mind. The flamingos were asleep with their heads under their wings, the lions lay stretched out under artificial shade, and the gorillas picked at their food with comical disinterest.

Jonathan and Harry lagged behind the group, speaking in hushed tones.

"You think people can transform into animals?" Harry asked, staring at a black jaguar as it slinked past the glass.

Jonathan shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised. There's transformation stuff in some of the runes. No clue how to actually do it yet, though."

As they passed through the reptile house, the air cooled. The glass tanks lined the walls, each holding something slithery or scaly.

Harry paused at a massive boa constrictor curled up in its tank. Dudley had just given up tapping the glass in frustration and stomped off. Jonathan hung back, letting Harry approach.

Then, it happened.

The boa raised its head and looked directly at Harry.

Jonathan tilted his head. Something... shifted in the air. It wasn't magic in the explosive sense, but a subtle vibration. Like watching a string being plucked.

Harry leaned close to the glass and muttered something under his breath. Jonathan couldn't make it out.

The snake blinked.

And nodded.

Before Jonathan could process it, the glass vanished. No cracking, no shattering—just gone. The snake slid out smoothly and quietly, ignoring the screams of nearby visitors.

Dudley shrieked and fell backward into his rear. Harry turned to Jonathan, wide-eyed but not shocked.

"I talked to it," he whispered.

Jonathan grabbed his sleeve. "We need to go."

They ducked out of the building before anyone could start asking questions.

That evening, after returning from the trip, they gathered in Jonathan's room like they always did after something magical.

Harry retold the whole event: the snake's voice—more of a feeling than words—the flicker of connection, the brief, deep understanding.

"And I was thinking about how unfair it was," he added. "About it being locked in there."

Jonathan nodded slowly. "I think that feeling triggered it. That's how most of it happens. Magic flows stronger when something inside us demands it."

"Like when I panicked on the school roof," Harry added.

"Or when I got so frustrated in the attic the lights came out of my hand."

Harry sat cross-legged on the carpet. "We've done light, levitation, repair, even some minor push spells. But I've never... talked to animals."

Jonathan considered that. "That might be something unique to you. A gift. We'll keep track of it."

After practicing some light spellwork—basic levitation, object repelling, and embedded rune charms—they slumped back, exhausted.

Jonathan leaned against the bedframe, watching the ceiling. "I've been digging into more secure government files."

Harry looked over at him, curiosity piqued.

"There's a treaty," Jonathan said. "Between the Ministry of Magic and the UK government. Like... an understanding. The Ministry handles magical threats, keeps their existence hidden. In return, the Muggle government stays out of magical business—unless something serious happens."

Harry blinked. "So they know about all this? The Prime Minister and everything?"

"Seems like it," Jonathan said. "Old files mention surveillance cooperation, magical clean-up squads, even shared defense pacts. Mostly buried under red tape, but the documents exist."

Harry swallowed. "What else?"

Jonathan hesitated. Then he spoke, voice more serious. "There was a war. A bad one. Some dark wizard named Grindelwald tried to take over both the magical and Muggle worlds. The International Confederation of Wizards—the ICW—they had to step in. It got ugly. Real ugly."

"And now?"

"Now things are stable. Barely. But it made me think—"

He glanced at Harry. "At eleven, the Ministry starts recruiting magical children. That's when we get taken in—given proper magical education. Hogwarts, probably."

Harry processed that slowly. "So next year…"

Jonathan nodded. "They'll come. Someone will come. Offer us a new life."

The room went quiet.

Then Harry said, "I hope it's soon."

Jonathan smiled faintly. "Me too."

And outside the window, the wind stirred, as if the world itself was listening.