Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Two weeks had passed since Matt returned home from his fifth year at Hogwarts, two weeks where he’d spent every day outside, re-exploring New York as if to make up for lost time.

Here, there was little sign of Voldemort’s return. Across the Atlantic, though, the British Ministry of Magic had finally admitted what Harry had claimed all along. Lord Voldemort was back. Cornelius Fudge had been forced to resign, and a new Minister for Magic was already in place. Wizarding newspapers were filled with advice on staying safe. One tip stood out. Agree on a set of security questions with close friends and family to help spot Death Eaters using Polyjuice Potion.

Matt had already done that with Foggy and his mother, but he preferred to set them up in person for his other friends.

Matt just woke up late. Last night, after his mother went to bed, he turned into his Animagus form, a bat, and flew around the church. It gave him a new perspective on the church and Hell’s Kitchen in general. He’d flown farther than planned, losing his bearings for a while, until he heard the familiar church bells in the distance, and his path back was clear.

When he finally stepped out of his room, Maggie greeted him warmly. “Morning, sleepyhead. You got a message from Harry.”

Matt felt for his phone on the coffee table and told his voice assistant to play it.

“I’m staying with the Weasleys for the rest of the summer. Dumbledore picked me up from the Dursleys in person. I couldn’t believe my luck. We went to see an old, retired teacher to persuade him to come back. I’ll tell you more when we meet. Oh, and I got my O.W.L. results. You and the others in the U.S. should get yours later today.”

Matt smiled and felt warmth around his heart, and it started to beat faster in anticipation.

Maggie squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” he said honestly. “Just… curious if a year’s worth of work paid off.”

He texted Foggy, Karen, and Frank. They made plans to meet the next day, starting at the park and then wandering through New York’s wizarding district. Frank was happy to be moving back to New York permanently with his parents. England had been uncharacteristically foggy for July, apparently due to Dementors breeding.

Usually, Matt headed out in the afternoons, but today he stayed home, waiting. Around three o’clock, the hoot of an owl sounded at the living room window, followed by an impatient tapping on the glass. Matt opened it, fumbling a bit as he untied the parchment from its leg. Maggie stepped beside him, and he handed it over.

“You read it first,” Matt said.

She scanned the letter, then put an arm around his shoulders. “Well done. You won’t be disappointed.”

Matt flattened the parchment on the table and waited as it transformed into Braille under his fingertips.

O r d i n a r y  W i z a r d i n g   L e v e l  R e s u l t s

Pass Grades:  Outstanding (O) | Exceeds Expectations (E) | Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:  Poor (P) | Dreadful (D) | Troll (T)

Matthew Murdock has achieved:

*Written Exam only

Matt ran his fingers over the page several times to be sure he’d read it correctly. He’d passed them all, even Herbology, which he disliked. The written exam must have lifted his grade. He had phenomenal grades, despite having had a terrible school year.

“Are you satisfied?” Maggie asked curiously.

Matt nodded. “I thought I performed worse in Herbology. Astronomy is not something I could excel at. I skipped a few questions. They weren’t sure if the questions where I had to fill in a chart counted for me, so I left it empty.”

“See, no amount of listening to experts in the teachers' lounge gives you a perfect score,” Maggie said softly. “This was all you. Jack would be proud.”

Matt nodded. His dad always wanted him to use his head, not his fists. But Matt did both.

A few minutes later, his phone's voice assistant chimed in.

“New voice message from Foggy.”

Matt let it play.
“I got my owl results. I got mostly E’s, even in Ancient Runes. Outstanding in History of Magic, Charms, and Muggle Studies. Astronomy’s an A, but I expected that. Couldn’t finish my star chart because of Umbridge.”

Not bad at all. He recorded a voice message with his results.

Foggy replied almost immediately:

“Damn, you’re good.”

Maggie chuckled. “You both are. Ask Karen if she’s got hers yet.”

As if Karen read their minds, he got a message from her.

“Hey, Foggy and Matt, look at my results.”

Did Karen really send him a picture? He appreciated that she actually forgot he couldn’t see it.

He handed the phone to Maggie. “Mind reading them to me?”

Maggie took his phone, studied the picture, and then read:

Matt was impressed. He hadn’t realized Karen had such a talent and interest in Astronomy or Care of Magical Creatures. This was a side he had just learned about her. This cemented that listening to the experts beforehand gave them an edge, but in the end, it came down to knowing the material.

“Want me to take a picture of yours and send it to her?” Maggie asked.

He nodded, and moments later Maggie reported, laughing, “She sent back a head-exploding emoji.”

Karen didn’t usually send him visual jokes, but it meant she wasn’t tiptoeing around his blindness, and that mattered more than she knew. After a year of Umbridge, he needed people who saw him as a whole person.

“We should celebrate,” Maggie suggested. “Eat out, or order something good?”

“I vote to eat out. Can we invite Foggy? His family had invited us for Christmas.”

“Perfect idea,” Maggie replied brightly

That evening, they went to an Indian restaurant to celebrate their O.W.L.s. Over dinner, they talked about the future, possibly studying at Columbia University. Few wizards pursued law school, so they’d likely have a good chance of getting in. Foggy had already reached out to the school to ask about Muggle Studies; unlike British law schools, U.S. ones didn’t require it for admission, meaning they could drop the class. He also mentioned his idea to talk to Dumbledore about their F.R.E.E. elves movement. He didn’t share specifics in the restaurant, in case they were overheard, but Foggy seemed eager to make progress.

The next day, Karen was scheduled to arrive via the fireplace at ten in the morning. Together, they’d collected Foggy and met Frank at the park.

Matt waited in the living room when he felt the sudden warmth of flames roaring in the fireplace. A heartbeat later, he sensed Karen step into the room.

“Hi, Matt,” Karen said brightly, giving him a quick hug before turning to Maggie. “Nice to see you too, Maggie.”

Maggie shook her hand warmly. “Hello, Karen. It’s nice to see you when the situation isn’t dire for once.”

The first and only time Maggie had seen Karen was in the Hospital Wing, just after Voldemort’s return.

“Shouldn’t we ask each other a security question?” Matt asked. “Where did I meet you first?”

Security should be their priority.

“Good thinking,” Karen replied. “Ravenclaw common room. What is Matt Murdock’s Patronus?”

Matt grinned. “A fox.”

“Security measures passed,” Maggie said with mock formality. “Welcome to our apartment. But if you were an intruder, you’d already be in our home.”

“That’s sadly true, Maggie,” Karen replied. “We still have some time. Want to show me your room, Matt?”

“Sure,” Matt said, standing. “But there’s not much to see.”

He led her to his room. Karen stepped inside and looked around. His cat, Lucy, was sitting on the bed, and meowed when she noticed Karen.

Karen crossed to the windowsill and picked up the small Hogwarts model trophy he’d received at the end of his second year.

“To Matthew Murdock,” Karen read. “Special Services to the school for saving a girl’s life, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Did I miss something? The trophy seems incredible to touch, not really to look at, though.”

“That’s what my mother told me,” Matt said, smiling faintly. “All the details are amazing to feel. I got it in our second year. I made Dumbledore promise no one would find out I went down into the Chamber of Secrets to help Harry. Basically, I did the same thing again in the Department of Mysteries.”

Sometimes, Matt had to remind himself that he hadn’t killed anyone that day in the Chamber. Destroying the diary hadn’t taken a life; it had returned to Ginny Weasley, the rightful owner. That was why Dumbledore had given him the trophy in the first place.

Karen’s heartbeat sped up slightly. “I always thought there were gaps in Harry’s story. Now it makes sense. I didn’t see that coming. You’ll have to tell me everything you did down there… but not right now.”

She looked out the window. “Your room’s a bit bare. Even if you can’t see it, you should put something on the walls, something with texture you’d enjoy.”

Matt smiled. “That’s probably just my upbringing with a nun for a mother. Not much room for decorations.”

“Good point,” Karen said. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Matt put on his glasses. He noticed Karen watching him, not just watching, but studying him. checking him out.

“Want to hold my arm?” she offered. “I mean, you know your way around New York better than me, but…”

“Holding your arm is fine,” Matt said with a smile. “You lead, and I’ll tell you where to go.”

Karen laughed. “Pretty sure that’s not how it usually works, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt just smirked, grabbed his cane, and took her arm with his other hand.

They walked together to Nelson’s Meats to pick up Foggy. On the way, he told her stories about the neighbourhood.

When Foggy joined them, they headed toward the park. Karen looked around with delight. “When I’m older, I’d love to move to New York. Hogwarts has plenty of food options, but it’s nothing compared to here, with restaurants for every cuisine. Way better than Vermont.”

Foggy chuckled. “Sure, you want to be a journalist and not a chef?”

“I’m not much of a cook,” Karen said with a grin. “Last week, my grandmother taught me to make her lasagna, though. That’s about it. I only passed Potions, but I really don’t like it. I just like eating.”

The three of them walked side by side, Matt holding on to Karen’s arm. He caught the soft scent of her shampoo, something floral, and the faint, warm note of her new perfume. The combination was subtle, but Matt really liked it.

They reached the park quickly and spotted Frank almost immediately. He was sitting on a bench near the carousel.

“Hey, guys,” Frank greeted. “It’s so weird being back in New York after London. It’s like the wizards here don’t care about Voldemort, as if he doesn’t exist. Refreshing, but also foolish.”

Foggy sighed. “Can we please not talk about him? Let’s just enjoy the time we have without thinking about him.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Frank asked.

Matt tilted his head, catching a familiar scent. “Get food from that food truck to your right. Everything smells fresh, and the seller’s not lying, every ingredient’s from New York.”

Frank held up a hand. “Wait, we have to agree on a security question. Let me think. If I ever had to hide under another name, I’d call myself Francis Castiglione. Francis is my real name, and Castiglione was my family’s original Italian surname before they changed it to Castle.”

Karen chuckled. “Your actual name is Francis? I always thought you and Foggy had the same name.”

“I think no one would want to impersonate me. They wouldn’t know how to move around,” Matt replied. “But you know me well, there are enough questions to ask them.”

They agreed and got in line for food. Matt paid with cash. When the seller handed back the change, Frank frowned.

“Hey, I think you want to try again,” Frank said, his voice sharpening. “You didn’t give him enough back. That was a hundred-dollar bill.”

The employee’s heartbeat spiked. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t notice.”

It was a clear lie and not even a convincing one.

Matt got the correct change, and Frank guided him toward a picnic table.

Thanks,” Matt murmured.

“Red, does that happen to you a lot?” Frank asked.

“Not sure,” Matt said. “I can’t tell bills apart except by folding them. I’ve read that other currencies are better for blind people. Sometimes people act nervously around me, their heart rate changes, and all. But don’t worry about it.”

“Maybe you should get a debit card,” Karen offered.

Matt nodded. “But that does not solve my problem with wizard money, though. I hate wizard currency with a passion. There are too many coins to check quickly.”

Karen nodded. "Yeah, wizard money is so impractical. I never understood why they can't use normal currency."

"It all circles back to pure blood ideology," Frank added. "They try so hard not to integrate with Muggles and to be separate. Sometimes I question humanity and my sanity in the Slytherin common room."

As they started eating, grilled chicken gyros with fresh tzatziki, tangy tomatoes, and warm pita bread, Karen asked Frank about his O.W.L.s.

“I’m not the academic type,” Frank said without apology. “I didn’t care about my grades. I did really well in DADA and Charms. Got an outstanding there. History of magic was really not my thing, got a D there.”

Matt was about to reply when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Matt Murdock?” a young woman’s voice asked. “Remember me? We met in this park two years ago.”

Matt searched his memory for her name.

“You don’t remember me?” she said, sounding mock offended.

Matt smirked. “Of course I do. How could I forget Jessica Jones?” He turned toward his friends. “These are Foggy, Karen, and Frank. We all go to Hogwarts.”

“Why do I get the feeling I know you from somewhere?” Foggy cut in. “I’ve seen you before.”

Jessica sighed. “Probably my adoptive mother. My adoptive sister’s famous, commercials and stuff.”

They were quiet for a moment, letting that sink in.

“You go to Ilvermorny, right?” Karen asked. “I’ve heard it’s a lot like Hogwarts.”

“I can’t say if it’s the same, but I don’t go there anymore,” Jessica replied. “My adoptive mother thinks it’ll be safer for me to finish my last two school years at Hogwarts, said I’d be safest around Dumbledore. I told her that’s bullshit. Harry Potter’s there, and a literal Death Eater used to be a teacher. But she didn’t listen. I’ll be a sixth year, same as you, I think.”

Karen laughed. “Great. Nice to have another person from the U.S. Yeah, we’re going into our sixth year.”

“Not me,” Frank disagreed. “I’ll be starting my seventh, but I’ll probably have to repeat it. At least that’s what my head of house said about my performance.”

Matt hadn’t even known you could repeat a year.

“There are different houses, right? I’ll get sorted into one?” Jessica asked.

They all nodded.

“I don’t like that, it’s bullshit.”

“You can always argue your case to be put into two houses, as I did,” Foggy explained. “I’m in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.”

Jessica nodded. “Sounds good. I might do that.”

“I should have,” Frank muttered. “Gryffindor and Slytherin would’ve had perks. Right now, I’m surrounded by idiots who do whatever their parents say, and all the other houses hate us. But honestly, Slytherin traits still speak to me.… You’ll find out.”

“So there’ll be five of us at Hogwarts, all from New York. Guess I’ll fit right in,” Jessica said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m not from New York,” Karen cut in. “I’m just visiting from Vermont. We were planning to head to the magic street off Fifth Avenue.”

“I won’t follow you there today,” Jessica said. “It’s been packed lately, tons of British tourists. Apparently, Diagon Alley’s deserted right now because of Lord-Everyone-Fears, you know, Voldemort. Which makes sending me to Hogwarts even less logical.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Foggy replied. “See you at Hogwarts then.”

Jessica waved and walked away.

“Sounds like a Slytherin to me,” Frank remarked. “I can feel it. So far, I’ve predicted every future Slytherin before sorting, just by the way she walks and talks.”

They continued to the magical street. It wasn’t quite as crowded as Jessica had warned, but Matt could hear more British accents than usual, and there were definitely more people than the last time he’d been there.

None of them really needed anything, so they just browsed. Even Frank didn’t mind; it was the kind of day where you could wander without a goal. He even described objects he thought Matt would find interesting. Elaborate wands with twisted handles, a set of enchanted chess pieces, and a cauldron that stirred itself. Matt was more focused on the sensation of the place, the open use of magic, the scents of parchment, potion ingredients, and the street food.

That’s when he caught the voice of another familiar person.

“What’s Malfoy doing here?” Foggy asked.

Matt tilted his head toward the sound. Malfoy carried a backpack around. It was full of objects, some of them he could identify, like a book, and others he could not.

“We could ask him,” Frank replied. “Confront him directly instead of guessing.”

Malfoy disappeared in a store; Matt would have never even noticed. It was kind of squeezed between two larger stores. An inconspicuous store with only a small shop window. That alone made it suspicious.

Frank peered inside. “He’s gone to the back with the shopkeeper.”

“What does the place sell?” Matt asked, frowning. “I can’t tell.”

Matt could sense objects, but they made little sense to him. Busts, wooden structures, jewellery, furniture.

Frank thought for a moment. “Looks like an antique shop. The shady kind. The kind where you might find a dark magic artifact. Probably protected, so most people can’t see it. But we saw Malfoy go in, so we can.”

Matt turned his hearing toward the back room.

“Why can’t you fix it?” Malfoy asked.

“I can, Mr. Malfoy, but that takes time. Time I currently don’t have,” a man replied. “Have you tried Borgin and Burke’s in London yet?”

Malfoy sighed. “The shop was closed when I went. What else have you got? Anything similar?”

“No. That’s one of a kind. But you could always go with a necklace or wine. Come with me, I’ll show you in the safe.”

They went into the safe, and Matt could no longer hear them.

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

“Nothing that makes sense,” Matt said. “He wants something repaired, or something similar. The guy offered wine or jewelry instead.”

“Then we wait for him to come out,” Frank decided.

Foggy and Karen clearly weren’t interested in waiting and headed toward the next bookstore.

About ten minutes later, Malfoy and the shopkeeper emerged from the safe. Malfoy paid for something, then turned to leave, but the man stopped him.

“Your…employer will be pleased with this purchase. Good choice, simple and clean.”

“He’s not my employer,” Malfoy said angrily. “Understood?”
 
“You just made an expensive purchase, Mr. Malfoy,” the man pointed out. “He is your employer, whether you like it or not.”

Matt gave Frank the signal, and they pretended to walk towards the direction of the store. Matt held onto Frank’s arm.

It played to them that Malfoy was on edge in a city he didn’t know.

He spotted them. “Murdock, Castle,” Malfoy called. “What are you doing here? Were you following me?

Matt let go of Frank’s upper arm. “Malfoy? Following you? As if we don’t have better things to do. We live here.”

“Yeah, unlike you,” Frank added. “What are you doing in New York?”

“Shopping, which is none of your business,” Malfoy said coolly. “Most shops in London are closed, so I had to make a day trip.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

Malfoy was about to reply when a woman’s voice called out.

“Draco. Are you done shopping for your…project?”

Malfoy groaned.” Mother, I’m not a child anymore. I can do my own shopping.”

“Maybe,” she said, folding her arms, “but you’re not seventeen yet, and you’re in a foreign country. I’m not leaving you alone here.”

Matt heard her moving her head around. “Draco, is that the blind American student you told me about? The one who’s friends with Potter?”

Malfoy nodded. “Matt Murdock, from Gryffindor. Snape’s favorite student.”

Mrs. Malfoy’s whole demeanor changed. She tilted her head, and some of her tension loosened. Then she outstretched her hand to shake hands. Frank bumped his arm so Matt could take it and keep up appearances.

“Narcissa Malfoy,” she greeted. “Draco’s mother.”

“Professor Snape just appreciates my potion skills, that’s all,” Matt said, downplaying it.

“No, no. I trust Snape’s opinion," she disagreed. "So you must be good in his eyes. I haven’t heard before that he has non-Slytherin favorites.”

Something told him she didn’t mean good in just the academic sense.

“Just a warning, being friends with Harry Potter is dangerous,” she continued. “I would pay close attention to who you spend your time with.”

Matt kept his tone diplomatic. She didn’t hate him, and he had no reason to make her start. She hadn’t attacked him, after all.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I sleep in the same dorm as Harry Potter and go to school with him,” Matt replied calmly. “That does not mean we’re close friends. And right now, I’m with Frank Castle, also known as a Slytherin student.”

Frank nodded at the mention of his name. “Yes, ma’am. I’m going to be a seventh-year Slytherin.”

Mrs. Malfoy nodded approvingly. “Mr. Murdock, I think you know where you belong. You can see it better than most. Snape must have seen your potential early.”

“Did your son tell you we worked together in potions for the first four years?” Matt asked. “Last year, I got to work on my own to prepare for my owls. We were a good team. I got an Outstanding in potions, probably thanks to your son, too.”

She whistled. “Impressing while blind. I’m sure Draco got an O because of your teamwork,” she said. “Tell me, Matt Murdock, what is your blood like?”

Matt smiled. “I’m healthy, thanks for asking. It’s as red as yours.”

She burst out laughing, though Malfoy didn’t find it funny.

“That’s not what my mother meant,” Malfoy cut in.

“Draco, show some respect. I know what Murdock was implying. Blood status is mostly irrelevant in the United States, where we currently are. I do wonder, though, are you Muggle-born?”

Matt shook his head. At least she understood his answer correctly. “My mother’s side is pure-blood, and there were some wizards on my father’s side.”

Mrs. Malfoy lightly patted her son’s arm. “See, Draco? Not everyone is a Muggle-born, despite what you claim. You still have much to learn. Until then, I’ll accompany you when you go shopping,” she decided. “Have a good day, Mr. Murdock. Mr. Castle.”

She nodded and then walked away.
Frank lightly shoved him once they were out of earshot. “Why did you suck up to her so much? She’s the wife of a known Death Eater!”

“That’s exactly why, Frank,” Matt replied. “She has a completely different picture of me now. Maybe she even owes me one for helping her son get an O in Potions. Didn’t you notice how she reacted when Malfoy mentioned Snape? She trusts Snape, so she trusts me. You never know when you might need a favour from a Death Eater’s wife.”

Frank nodded slowly. “Clever tactic, but I’m not sure when that’ll happen. Did you really help Malfoy in Potions?”

“No, I did all the work,” Matt said with a shrug. “And I wasn’t entirely truthful. My mother is a Squib.”

“Quick thinking,” Frank acknowledged. “Let’s find the others.”

Matt grabbed Frank’s arm, and together they went to the next bookstore to regroup with Foggy and Karen. Frank wanted to buy a book on defensive spells, so they spent a while there. Matt wasn’t particularly interested in finding any books; he preferred listening to the shoppers outside. Many were visiting from abroad, and the wand shop was especially busy with first-years getting theirs. He’d learned that Ollivander had left without notice.

After that, they strolled down the street until Frank left early. This gave Matt the chance to tell the others what had happened. Foggy and Matt decided to show Karen a publicly accessible rooftop, one Foggy liked for the view, and Matt liked for other reasons. They bought the best-smelling ice cream, though no vanilla for Matt, and ate it together on a rooftop bench.

Matt told himself that if he ever owned or rented his own apartment, it had to have rooftop access. It would make it so much easier to turn into his Animagus form and fly around.

If he got into Columbia Law, he wouldn’t want to stay in a dorm. He’d had enough of dorm life for a lifetime. Columbia was close enough that commuting would be easy, and it would save a ton on rent.

At six in the evening, they walked Foggy home, then headed back to Matt’s apartment, getting sandwiches from Foggy’s father along the way. Back home, they ate together. Maggie wasn’t back from the orphanage yet, and Karen still had some time before she needed to be home.

“Foggy recommended a new TV show with exceptionally good audio description. I wasn’t convinced,” Matt admitted, “but maybe you could describe it?”

Karen sat up straighter. “Oh, I think I know which one. The one with the witch. I’ve already seen the first season, so I have no problem giving you descriptions.”

Matt removed his glasses to feel more comfortable, and they started the episode. Karen might not have been as skilled at describing as Foggy, but she was still better than the provided audio.

Halfway through the next episode, Maggie came home.

Karen continued her narration, but Matt noticed that Maggie was watching them.

“He has a weirdly shaped tattoo on his forearm,” Karen narrated. She touched the spot on his arm, then guided his hands to form the shape of the tattoo.

When the episode ended, Karen stood and stretched. “I should probably be going. It’s been an eventful day, and I even met someone new.”

“Who did you meet?” Maggie asked, cutting in.

“Jessica Jones,” Matt answered. “You saw her two years ago in the park. Her mother wants her to finish school at Hogwarts.”

“That’s… unusual. I’ve heard some parents are pulling their kids out of Hogwarts because they’re afraid of Voldemort. I already know I don’t need to ask you if you want to leave.”

Matt nodded, and Karen just patted him on the back.

“Well, if you want, I could come back to narrate more episodes,” Karen offered. “I would have to ask my parents first, though.”

“No objections from me,” Maggie said immediately.

Karen nodded and hugged Matt. “See you soon, Matt.” She grabbed her stuff and then travelled back to Vermont via their fireplace.

Matt sniffed the room; her scent and perfume still lingered.

"She knows about your senses," Maggie noted.

"She does," Matt agreed.

Maggie squeezed his hand. “She likes you.”

“I know,” Matt said with a smile.

“I mean it, she really likes you. I can see it in her eyes.”

“You mean as a crush?” Matt asked. “We’re friends, Mom. She narrated for me, and I appreciate it.”

“But you don’t want to hear it from me,” Maggie teased.

“That’s not true,” Matt said, smiling. “But I really like the sound of her voice.”

He liked more than just her voice and their friendship, but he didn’t need to spell it out for his mother.