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Three twelve-year-olds are gathered in a bathroom, copying a diagram from a book onto the floor in chalk.
"Do you know what all this writing means?" asks the green-eyed boy.
"No," says the bushy-haired girl, "and that worries me too, but we need to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is and this ritual is the best we've got."
Eventually, one or another of them draws the last bit of the outer circle.
"Dozens of witches and wizards every year think they have a brilliant idea that will help muggles in a way they won't notice. The only reason wizardkind has stayed hidden as long as it has is because carrying out those ideas is forbidden."
"About that, uh, cameras are about to get a lot more ubiquitous and their storage of images a lot less local. If your fundamental goal here is 'don't be noticed' then even if you don't see any ethical problems with memory-charming people for receiving the occasional leaks you must have, you have an issue coming up way bigger than some confused entomologists."
"That is concerning. I have noticed the pace of Muggle technology, but the ability to transmit an image long distance before anyone can get to the camera would be . . . difficult to adapt to."
"I can imagine! Look, I'd be happy to have an entire argument about whether it is feasible for the mass use of unethical charms to keep wizardkind concealed and in total unaccountable control of their every interaction with Muggles. And whether this is desirable. Later. After I eradicate malaria."
"I am aware that I cannot stop you. I simply want to ensure that you are prepared to handle the consequences of your actions."
"You going to tell everyone it was me, have them throw me in Geneva Convention Violation: The Island?"
"Oh good, that would get ugly. Will I be turned out on the street with only my ability to conjure arbitrary material objects allowing me to be housed? Will my necklace be confiscated and me memory-charmed, leaving me very confused about my last several weeks of notes, which will turn up on any attempt I make to re-conjure my complete works however forgetful I might find myself?"
"I did say I couldn't stop you. But if you do get caught, I will not be able to help you, either."
"Well, last time I tried anything like this I got murdered and that hasn't stopped me either."
"I wouldn't necessarily hear about it, if they pin it on somebody local to Africa, I haven't noticed strong international lines of communication among wizards, but supposing I did I suppose I could make some backup arrangements and show up to confess before scarpering, Jean Valjean style."
"Only that if you are caught, I would prefer you not mention that I knew anything about it. Alas, politics."
"Understood. I imagine that should go for Harry too lest he be under some obligation to report me to the secret police."
Nod. "It is my sincere hope that he can have a normal childhood from now on." He doesn't sound particularly hopeful.
"I don't really know what's up with his in-loco-parental situation but sure, normal secret wizard childhood, sounds good."
"Maybe with no scar he can convince intrusive strangers that he's merely an uncanny lookalike."
This gets a chuckle. "Knowing the Hogwarts rumor mill, I expect to hear someone at breakfast tomorrow confidently asserting he's been triplets all along."
Cam snorts. "Well," he says, "I'm off to Africa, I think if I take it slow making clouds it'll be nice and dark by the time I get there." And up he flies.
Cam begins the process of the eradication of the malarial mosquito, then comes back and lands in the woods near Hogwarts and flaps back under his own power.
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