“I'm back!” Sol got off the train and waved at his father. His father waved back.

“I assume Mom's back home taking care of Faye?” His father nodded in response. His father made a series of gestures asking, “How was school?”

“Nothing really happened,” Sol lied. “Just went to my classes and practiced my spells.”

His father made another series of gestures asking, “Could you show me some of them?”

Sol school his head, “You do know magic outside of school is prohibited for students.”

His father raised his eyebrows and looked at him with an expression full of suspicion. Looking at his father’s face he relented, “Fine, fine, I’ll show them to you.”

His father's expression immediately brightened.

They walked out of King's Cross Station and headed straight for his father's car. Once inside, Sol asked a question that had been bugging him, “How’s your progress on speaking?”

His father regretfully shook his head. Sol's eyes flashed with regret.

“Is it a problem with the vocal cords?” although Sol knew the answer, it didn’t hurt to ask.

His father shook his head again. Since he was driving a car, Sol only asked simple ‘yes/no’ questions. Sol probably guessed it was a sort of suppression of his mental state. Although he can speak, he also can’t. His physical is fine, it’s most probably a mental problem. And since it hasn’t even gone away after hearing that his attackers were locked away, it probably won’t go away ever. This greatly saddened Sol. As he partly blamed himself for attempting to repair his father's consciousness without being strong enough. Though he did feel a bit happy when he remembered the look of sheer joy on his mother’s face once he had woken up.

Soon they entered Privet Drive and came upon the driveway of their house. Sol took his luggage out of the car while his father parked the car into the garage. Sol went up to the main door and pressed the doorbell. Soon, his mother's voice could be heard, “I'm coming!” followed by hurried footsteps.

His mother opened the door and greeted Sol with a smile, “Welcome back!” They hugged and Sol came in followed by his father. He looked around and asked his mother, “Is Faye in her room?”

“Yeah! Wait, let me show Faye her brother.” Her mother ran upstairs with a smile. Seeing her and thinking of his sister, Sol smiled warmly.

Ahh~ there’s no place like home.

Soon his mother came down with a black-haired baby in her arms. She had big brown eyes which looked around her in wonder. Sol's smile became even warmer.

Looks like Faye is taking after her mother.

His mother brought Faye closer to Sol and said in baby-speak, “Faye~ look,” she pointed at Sol, “Who’s that? That's your brother! Say hello!” She held Faye's hand and waved it at him. Sol laughed lightly.

Sol slowly approached the baby. With his arms outstretched, he also spoke like his mother, “Faye~ you’ve grown so big! Come here.” As soon as his arms reached Faye, she let out a cry of distress and tightly put her arms around his mother's neck.

Critical Hit!

Sol instantly fell on his knees. He had an aggrieved look on his face. His parents were just laughing at the show. He looked at his mother, “W-What the hell?!”

“Hey, don’t ask me! It’s your fault,” his mother told him whilst laughing.

“What do you mean?” Sol felt wronged. Even more so when he looked at his sister who was looking at him warily.

“You left right after she was born. You didn’t even come back for Christmas! Do you think babies have object permanence?”

“I had things to do. And you could’ve at least shown her my pictures.”

“You want me to brainwash my child?” she gasped jokingly.

“I’m your son!”

“She’s my daughter!” Sol became increasingly more gloomy once he heard that.

“Favoritism. Utter favoritism.” He said darkly.

His mother smirked, “Heh! Serves you right for not coming home for Christmas!”

“You know, I wrote you a letter about it!”

His mother put a hand on his shoulder and clutched tightly. He looked at the hand before looking at his mother. She was smiling but her eyes were not. He could feel the temperature dropping around him. She clutched harder, “Yes...let's talk about that letter, shall we?”

His father slowly backed away from the impending disaster and wished his son good luck.

A Few Minutes Later

Sol's father returned from the bedroom only to see his wife sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed, arms crossed, and with a threatening look on her face. His son was on his knees in front of her, looking both guilty and scared. His daughter was sitting on her baby chair looking at this peculiar scene with her round, brown eyes.

“Oh, the Philosopher's stone, huh? You’re going to steal someth-”

“Borrow,” Sol corrected.

His mother glared at him and he promptly closed his mouth.

“You're going to steal something that Nicholas Flamel made and Dumbledore himself is guarding,” his mother said slowly, wanting to know if she heard her son correctly.

“Come on, mom. Dumbledore himself isn’t guarding it. It's just a three-headed dog and so-” His mother’s eyes widened and Sol knew he misspoke.

“And how do YOU know this?” his mother asked menacingly.

“Uh…right! Hagrid told me!” Sol said. It was actually true.

She narrowed his eyes at him and Sol met her gaze. Once she was sure he wasn’t lying, she moved on.

“Why ARE you trying to steal the Stone?”

Sol thought for a while, thinking what to do. He decided to tell her the truth. But first, he looked off to the side. Seeing his father there, he didn’t say anything out loud as he didn’t want him to hear.

He got up from his knees and walked towards her. He leaned to her ear and whispered, “It seems You-Know-Who is alive and out for the Stone as well.”

His mother's face went through a myriad of expressions upon hearing this. Shock, disbelief but mostly fear. She looked at Sol with round eyes, “Y-You're serious?! V-Vold-” She couldn’t finish as Sol clamped her mouth shut with his hand. He put a finger on his lips and shook his head. His mother understood that this was neither the time nor the place to say that name.

She looked at her husband who was munching on some chips and watching them with a look of alarm on his face at this sudden turn of events. She smiled at him, “Dear, do me a favor and take Faye to her room.”

He paused and nodded seemingly having understood that their next conversation was not suitable for him to hear. He took Faye off the baby chair who was still gazing at her mother and the newcomer who looked a bit like her father. The two of them left the living room and headed upstairs.

After seeing that the two had left, Sol's mother looked at her son. With a pensive look on her face, she asked, “How do you know?”

“Harry. The boy seems to have a connection to You-Know-Who.” Sol replied truthfully.

“You mean Harry Potter?”

Sol nodded.

His mother sucked in a cool breath of air. She looked at her son with a flicker of fear in her eyes.

Looking at his mother's current state, he knew that she was currently recounting the events of the night his father was attacked. “Don’t worry. He's weak now. Only capable of possessing his lackeys and drinking Unicorn blood to keep himself alive.”

His mother's expression slightly brightened, “Is that right?!” But her face soon took on a worried look, “How do you know this?”

Sol hesitated but still thought that it would be better to tell her the truth, “Seen it with my own eyes.”

His mother looked shocked, “Y-YOU!” She grabbed his shirt tightly, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

Sol looked at his mother's expression. She looked worried, panicked, and afraid. It made her look manic. Sol tried to ease her, “Are you worried about me getting tangled up with You-Know-Who? Don't worry. I’m not like father. I at least can defend myself.”

“LIKE HELL YOU CAN!! EVEN IF HE IS WEAKENED HE IS STILL STRONGER THAN A SECOND-YEAR!!” His mother's look became more and more disheveled.

Sol felt it to be a bit ironic that his mother would tell him the same thing he said to Harry. “Fine since you’re insisting, I won’t go after the Stone,” Sol lied.

“NO!” his mother looked at him unyieldingly.

“What do you mean?” Sol was confused.

“You're saying that just to shut me up! You’ll go even if I tell you not to!” his mother looked at him with a crazed expression and red eyes.

“I-I…” looking at his mother's haggard expression, her hoarse voice, and red eyes that were on the verge of crying, Sol felt immensely remorseful. It felt like a ton of bricks were weighing on top of his heart. His words were stuck in his throat. He had never encountered this situation. Thus, he made a decision.

He put a hand on her forehead. She looked a bit puzzled at what her son was doing at this juncture. But soon her iron grip on Sol's clothes loosened and she flopped down on the sofa. She was fast asleep. He looked at his sleeping mother with regret in his eyes. However, this regret was slowly changing to warmth and ease as he whispered, “Sleep tight. May the gods ease your worries.”

He carried her off the sofa and into his parents' bedroom where his father was reading a newspaper. Seeing his wife's current state, he looked at Sol with a look of alarm and confusion. Sol smiled lightly at him, “She just exhausted herself.” He gently put her on top of the bed and left the room.

He came into his room and saw that it was just the way he left it but was clean. He bitterly smiled before falling down on his bed.

He understood that he made the wrong choice this time.