Chapter 1: The Sorcière Perdue

August 2006

The night was hot as hell, humid too, but I really didn't care. After two years in England and Scotland I was back in America, standing outside a bar on Bourbon Street, mostly inebriated, and it had been a damn good day. Ok, I was leaning on the wall because I was positive I couldn't stay upright without some assistance. Sure, for most of the day my shirt looked like I could take it off and wring it out, a slightly scary woman tried to get me to have my palm read and had a hard time believing I wasn't interested and Melody had almost thrown up when she tried fried alligator, but it had been a damned good day. We'd stopped by the Laveau School, the New Orleans version of Hogwarts, and spoken with their headmaster about my Muggle Studies text. Ok, they didn't call her headmaster or headmistress like at Hogwarts, but it was the same thing. Since I'd had that fourth or twenty-eighth Hurricane the words didn't really come easily, as they'd told me what her title was, but I really wasn't remembering it at the moment. Shit, I couldn't even remember her name. Whatever her title was she was really excited about my Muggle Studies textbook so I was batting a thousand for the day. Tomorrow was the book signing for My Wand is Useless, my book about living as a mostly-Muggle in the Wizarding world, and initial American sales had been good, so why not have a few too many? I was waiting for Melody to come out of the loo, wondering if I could get away with bumming a cigarette off the nearby kid with the dreadlocks when a very young and very slightly dressed woman walked by with some other people, stopped, and then turned back to look at me. She waved at her friends to go on ahead and then walked over to me, stopping very closely, in what would definitely be an imposition of personal space regardless of country or culture.

"I never thought I'd see you here, of all places."

Her accent was thick with the "Southern Honey" as my Gran used to say. I'd never seen this woman, girl actually, in my life. I had no idea who she was, so I went along with it. "Yeah. Me neither."

She laughed and shook her head. "I loved your book. My mama bought it for me for Christmas. Those British kids really pulled some good ones on ya."

It suddenly dawned on me, even through the haze, that the girl wasn't a Muggle. "Oh thank God, I thought…"

The girl laughed, and put her hand on my shoulder. "Oh don't worry, I won't say anything…"

"Say anything about what?" Melody looked at the girl, then me, and then back at the girl.

The girl shook her head. "It ain't like that. I expect I'll see you two tomorrow, at the signing. And for the record, I don't think it's useless." As I wobbled unsteadily the girl looked over to Melody. "Well, it might be tonight. Y'all have a good night."

As the girl walked down the street I took off my glasses, and after seeing Melody's face I couldn't do anything but laugh. "You thought…" I laughed some more, and Melody wasn't pleased. "Come on, Mel, let's go back to the hotel. I need one of your…"

Melody put her hand over my mouth. When I'd stopped trying to speak she took my arm and started walking towards the hotel. I felt pretty good about her guiding me until she almost walked into a wrought-iron fence, and eventually we poured ourselves into the hotel room. I think I drank a hangover potion that night, I'm still not sure.

The next morning, when the sun was streaming in way too many colors of bright through the window I definitely needed a hangover potion, and I was only starting to feel the effects when Melody stumbled out of bed, walked to the table and downed two of the potions. I sat at the small table in my boxer shorts and opened the window to try and let some air into the room. The fact that we were staying in an old hotel that didn't have air conditioning wasn't bad in the mornings, but in the afternoon it was like a sauna.

"Come on, Mel. Let's take a shower and go get some breakfast. I need some more of that coffee."

She flipped her bangs over her head, and with one eye shut she looked at me and managed to roll the only open eye. "Merlin's pants, Hank. Do I have to go today? I did the last signing with you." She sat on the bed and put her hand to her face, feeling it like she had to make sure she still had skin or something.

"That was four, um, five days ago in Maine. Besides, your publisher said it was good for Witch Weekly. Raises American awareness or something. Come on. Let's get in the shower, I'm hungry."

Something between a groan and a moan escaped Melody's lips. "All right, then. You go first."

"The hell with first. Come on." I raised my eyebrows at her and she threw a pillow at me. "Hey, we're on our honeymoon. You have the rest of your life to have a headache."

"You are horrible. Won't work, anyway. The shower in there is so small my arse wouldn't fit in there along with your gut. And remind me again why we're staying in this wonderful establishment?"

"Ian, remember?"

Ian Coswock, my book agent, had booked the hotels for the big three stopovers on the honeymoon book tour/school visit, and he'd picked a doozy. The Vanishing Spectre was an old wizarding hotel in a part of the French Quarter that didn't exist on a map. In fact, if you didn't know the exact way to get there you would never find it, as you had to stand at a certain point in the Quarter facing a certain direction and say a certain phrase before the entrance would appear. How that all worked I had no idea, but then again I'm Professor Muggle, Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Britain, so how wizarding New Orleans works is beyond me. Hell, I didn't even know I was mostly a Muggle until I was in the UK, and even then I'm only 1.3% wizard. Not like I'm going to understand the dimensional temporal whatsiwhoozits and charm boundaries and whatever theoretical time and space compression spell witches and wizards do to make it happen, I just know that it happens.

Melody fell back on the bed and put an arm across her eyes. "There has to be a better agent."

I went over and picked up one of her feet and began to ever so slowly pull her off of the bed. "We could get beignets…"

She gently kicked her foot out of my hand. "All right, then. Just leave me alone for another ten minutes."

After we'd had our chicory coffee and beignets Melody and I sat at the table reading our newspapers, definitely the picture of madly in love newlyweds. I read the local Muggle newspaper while Melody read the local wizarding newspaper, making sure to hide the moving pictures when our waitress came by to refill our coffee. I was amazed at the amount of devastation that still remained in the wake of Hurricane Katrina; the French Quarter was slowly getting back on its feet, and it was the same in the magical community as well. Slow progress with a determination to stay in New Orleans. I felt honored as I was to be the first author to hold a book signing in the magical bookstore, and I had sent word to Ian that I wanted the money that the store had sent over to have me in their shop to be donated to the relief efforts.

Melody folded her newspaper and sat her coffee cup on top of it. "What's the schedule for today?"

"Bookstore at one, then we have the very late check out at the hotel at four, dinner somewhere and then we hit the road and head north. I don't expect we'll make it that far tonight, maybe just to Tennessee or Missouri. It'll take us a day or two to make it to Minnesota. We're not due there until Friday anyway, so we don't have to push very hard."

"Why did I agree to this? Tell me again?" She put her elbows on the table and sat her chin in her hands. "I hate that car. Takes too long to get anywhere, you never put the top up so my hair is always a mess and it's so bloody loud."

"It's a road trip, Mel. Think of how much of the country you've seen already, and that's just been the first part of the trip. I know it doesn't…it's a classic Jaguar convertible. Have you seen how people react when they see it? How many times have people come over and talked to us when I get gas? Tons. It's a thing of beauty."

"You sound like the Harpies talking about their brooms, another thing I don't understand." She looked at her watch. "Let's go, I want to get this over with. The last one was sort of embarrassing."

I laughed at that, as she was right. The first book signing went well as I'd sold a lot of books and signed a lot of copies, but there was also a question and answer period that had been scheduled, and I hadn't been aware that was happening. I'd managed to answer the initial questions, which were fairly innocuous, but then one woman started asking about the wedding, and the stories she'd heard about me and a group of professional athletes. I did pretty well on that one, but then she followed my answer up with a question asking Melody if it was true that she had to duel another witch to be able to date me. Somehow or another it seemed that the crazy stories from The Daily Prophet had made their way over to America, specifically the UMS or United Magical States, and then the tabloid questions started flowing. Luckily I was saved by my watch, as we had to make our next appointment. I didn't tell anyone that our next appointment was actually going back to the hotel room, turning on the TV and ordering room service, I just wanted to get out of there.

I looked over at her and she was thoroughly not excited. "I don't think it'll be like that. I'll tell whoever's running the show that I don't have time for Q&A, how's that?"

"Wonderful."

Luckily the signing went well, none of the Q&A session like before. When the young woman from Bourbon Street showed up with her mother I wrote "Thanks for getting me in trouble on my honeymoon" in a copy of My Wand is Useless and handed it to her. She was surprised, as she already had the book and didn't bring one over to be signed, but I told her it was the least I could do as I'd be able to get a few free drinks off of the story. After that it was a quick trip back to the hotel, the normal rush of packing and we were off.

After convincing Melody that it's just not proper to take a classic Jaguar through the drive-through lane at a fast food restaurant we ended driving out of New Orleans and wound up at a local place. She wasn't too impressed with the building, but I saw enough pickup trucks and cars outside to guess that it was the place that the locals frequented, not the tourists. Luckily I was right, and after Melody had a bite of the fried Cajun boudin balls I didn't hear another word about the plastic red and white checkerboard tablecloth or the paper plates and roll of paper towels on the table. I had another order of fried alligator which made Melody turn a little pale, but other than that it was a great meal. I found out that the restaurant also had a grocery store attached to the building, and they sold seafood and sausage, so I got a card from the waitress. I figured I'd find someway to have Nate send all that good stuff over to me at Hogwarts.

I got in the car with a full stomach, happy, and ready to go. Melody, on the other hand just had a full stomach. I was starting to worry that my wonderful road trip idea was going to go down as a story I'd hear years from now, the one where she would tell some woman "Oh, do you know what he did for our honeymoon?" The tone wouldn't be the happy, excited it-was-a-wonderful-surprise tone, either, it would be akin to the one where you talk about how you had to do something horrible because your grandmother made you do it and was totally embarrassing.

After leaving the restaurant I pulled out the map of Louisiana from the car and stood under the lamppost. Somehow or another Nate had forgotten to give me the promised GPS navigator and I had to do things the old-fashioned way. It would take a while to get to the interstate, and I really didn't want to put the top up, so I decided the old back roads would take less time and be a lot more fun. Well, I thought they would be, as the road was somewhat curvy and I'd get to have fun driving. Melody was not impressed with Muggle car travel, especially all the stops and starts, so she sat in the passenger seat and put on my Braves hat.

"So, copilot, are you ready?" I sat down and looked at her. "You want to drive?"

"No." She shook her head. "I have no idea how you do all those things; I mean, you do one thing with your foot while you turn the wheel with one hand and hit little switches with the other and try not to run into things all at the same time. Oh, and you have to read signs while you do it. I would rather use a portkey any day. Or fly on a Muggle plane again. You just drive and I'll probably fall asleep soon anyway."

I turned the key and soon enough we were off, wind around us, Louisiana scenery slipping by in the darkness. We'd gone north for about an hour or so, I'm not sure, when I noticed that we were going to need gas soon. The first few very small towns we went through didn't have a gas station, or one that I could find off of the highway, so I kept going, my nerves straining; I had a bad feeling that we'd be stuck on the side of the road. Luckily I found a small gas station all by itself on the highway that was sort of well lit. When I pulled up to the pump I noticed a couple of cars and pickups in the back of the parking lot filled with teenagers. They were playing their music pretty loudly, and the combination of the music and the fact that the car had stopped woke up Mel.

"Where are we?"

"Still in Louisiana. I've got to get some gas."

I put in my credit card and got the pump working finally, as the pump looked like it came out of an old movie. When the tank was full I went to get my receipt, but it didn't print out. Not good, because I needed the receipts. Ian said something about keeping all the receipts for everything, how he'd use them for some complicated financial thing but I had ignored most of it as I was just interested in going on the honeymoon at that time. Well, I figured if I can't get the receipt at the pump I could get it inside, so I went in. The kid behind the counter couldn't have been less interested in helping me; instead he was busy texting someone on his mobile phone. After finally getting his attention he tried printing the receipt, but the printer jammed. This led to a search for the manual on how to clear the jam, and it seemed like forever had passed when he finally printed the receipt.

"What's taking so long?" Melody stood at my side holding two sodas. "This is the right kind, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's it." She tapped me on the shoulder and I leaned in close.

She whispered "The loo was horrible."

I nodded, pulled out my wallet and paid for the sodas. As we walked out of the gas station something was wrong, very, very wrong.

"Mel, where's the car?"

"Merlin's pants! I just went in to use the loo, and…"

I didn't hear the rest of what she said. I looked around and, sure enough, the teenagers were all gone. Fuck. "Mel, you didn't take the keys out?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to. I told you I don't know how cars work, Hank."

I walked out towards the gas pumps and kept walking, right out into the middle of the highway. I don't know how long I was out there, but I had to clear my head. I took a look around the sky until I found the Big Dipper, and then yelled "FUCK" as loudly as possible. I started to walk back over to Mel when I heard it; the Jaguar was still here! I took off at a dead sprint towards the gas station, and then it came around the corner at speed, two people in the car, whooping as the gravel kicked up from the tires. As I watched it speed by me and down the road I had a sudden, horrible realization about its occupants. Well, at least one of them.

"Mel! Can you see if the door is locked?" I pointed to the gas station.

She ran over and tried the doors; sure enough they were locked. The fucking kid at the gas station counter locked up and went with his friend who stole my car. My Jaguar. My classic, 1950's beautiful cream Jaguar with the wire-spoked wheels.

"Hank?" Mel's voice was worried. "What do we do now? Can you use your thing to talk to Nate?"

"Could I call him? Sure. My brother and Lavender Brown could pop over and get us out of Nowheresville, Louisiana. One problem. My phone is in the car." I walked over to where a public telephone used to be, as the outline of the payphone and the mounting plates were still exposed on the side of the gas station. "And there's no payphone, either. We're fucked, Mel."

I sat down on the steps leading into the gas station and Mel joined me. She looked worried, and to be honest, I was too. Before I could say anything I saw headlights coming up the road. I started to head over to see if I could flag them down but I realized the headlights were moving way too fast for it to be safe to stand out in the highway. They were going to fast to see me, they'd be gone before they could even see us. Fuck.

The gravel and dust flew as the vehicle came to a stop at the gas station, and once the dust cleared I recognized what had stopped at an impossibly short distance based on the rate of speed. Somehow an ancient looking black and red school bus stood idling in front of us, and for a few seconds I had no idea what to do. I looked over to Mel and noticed she had her wand out, so I reached into my pocket and pulled mine out as well. The two of us stood there silently, wands somewhat raised until the door opened on the bus.

"Well don't just stand there, get in. Can't take you nowhere if you don't get in." The voice was masculine and sounded old. "And put your wands away, you don't need them."

Wands? What the fuck? "Um, Mel…"

An elderly man with grey hair and a sharp grey suit and tie stepped out of the bus. "Y'all need a ride. Can't stay here, too many gators."

As soon as Mel heard the word "gators" she started walking towards the bus. I followed and when we got to the old man I looked him in the eye. "You must not be a Muggle 'cause you noticed the wands. What is this?'

He laughed. "Boy, this here's the Sorcière Perdue. We give rides to any witch or wizard that needs one, and I reckon y'all need one pretty bad."

Mel and I must have had identical confused expressions, because the man laughed. "Sorcière Perdue, lost witch. Come on, then. I can't be here all night. I'll drop you at the Bon Charme; Marie will take care of you."

I sat with Melody in the bus as the driver went through the country roads at a massive rate of speed. Mel was curled up in the corner, her feet up on the seat and her chin on her knees.

Melody's voice was very soft, and I could hear the hurt in her voice. "I'm sorry, Hank. I didn't know I had to take the keys."

I sighed. I couldn't be mad at her. "You didn't know, Mel. It's a Muggle thing, I just forgot you don't know about stuff like that. I don't know what we're going to do, though. All of our luggage, my phone, our schedule, everything was in the car." The car, my beautiful Jaguar, now in the hands of two teenagers. Fuck.

"I know, but…now what do we do?" She crossed her arms and leaned back into the seat. "I don't even have anything to sleep in."

"Like that's bothered you lately." I smiled and was happy to see that I got the "why can't you behave" look.

Before she could actually say anything the bus stopped, and we both stood up. The driver opened the door and looked back at us. "Just ring the bell when you get in the lobby, Marie will take good care of you."

We thanked the driver and stepped out of the bus in front of a very large, white house with faded paint. The massive porch wrapped around the front of the house, and a second-story porch, typical to New Orleans plantation houses definitely caught my eye. I'd wanted to visit a house like this, with the giant plantation shutters and rocking chairs ever since I'd read about New Orleans years ago, and my wish was finally here. Unfortunately it wasn't a normal tourist visit, though, as it was the dead of night, my car was missing and we had no luggage. We walked up the steps and opened the screen door, which creaked on its hinges, and opened the large door.

The lobby of the Bon Charme looked as if it hadn't been changed since about 1800 but closer examination revealed that it was incredibly clean and well-kept. Large oriental rugs covered the ancient wood floors, and there were several portraits of people from pre-Revolutionary times sleeping in their frames. I looked at one painting and saw a dark-haired girl of about seventeen dressed in a white, lacy dress sleep in her rocking chair on a porch…and the porch looked exactly like the Bon Charme. Mel pulled me away, and we began walking through the large open foyer and quickly arrived at a small desk that said "Check In." Nobody was at the desk, and due to the late, or actually early hour I wasn't surprised. I tapped a small bell that stood on the desk and looked over to Melody as it didn't seem to make any sound whatsoever. She shrugged so I hit the bell again, and as before there was no sound.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, and you don't have to keep ringing the bell." An older woman's voice could be heard behind a door that was in back of the desk, and sure enough the door swung open right after that. She wore an old, multi-colored robe and her grey hair was piled up on the top of her head. After she sat down at the desk with a flick of her wand a pair of reading glasses moved from the desk and into her hand, and she put them on slowly. "I don't have any reservations, so y'all must have come in on the Sorcière Perdue."

"Yep, that's it. Someone stole my car." I took off my glasses, folded them up and put them in my shirt pocket. "We'll need a room tonight and then we'll need to get in touch with the sheriff or Aurors or whoever in the Ministry can get our stuff back."

"Car? Boy, if you came in on the Sorcière Perdue why are you driving a car? And Ministry? Where you from?"

"Virginia, sort of. I live in Scotland now. I'm barely a wizard, but my wife's a witch." I looked over to Melody. "That means you, you know."

"Oh!" Melody shook her head. "Sorry, still not used to that."

"Congratulations." The woman behind the desk smiled at us. "You must be newlyweds. I'm sorry you had to come to the Bon Charme because of your situation, but I'll give you the honeymoon suite. I'm Marie Chennault, and this is my hotel."

After we'd made the introductions, and I realized that Marie had never heard of my book or my story, my ego was appropriately deflated. So much for being a famous mostly-Muggle. We also found out that the Bon Charme was purposely out-of-touch with the majority of the wizarding world in America, or the United Magical States as I reminded myself, as the hotel was a prime location for those who wished to get away from it all. The Floo was only connected at ten in the morning and at two in the afternoon, check-in and check-out times, so there was nothing for us to do but wait.

We thanked Marie for her hospitality, especially in the situation and since she'd given us the honeymoon suite, and I was lucky enough to find that my secret little Galleon pouch that Neville had given me before we'd left the UK was still in my pocket. As I opened it up and paid for our room I was glad to know that I wasn't completely penniless. We graciously took the room key from Marie and headed up the stairs, eventually finding our room at the end of the hall. I opened the door and stood open-mouthed at the entrance, causing Melody to push me inside.

"Come on, Hank. I'm tired." She walked into the room and flung herself down on the large, canopied bed. After realizing that I was still in the doorway, she rolled over and looked at me while kicking off her shoes. "Why are you still standing there?"

"I feel like I've walked onto the set of Gone With the Wind, that's why."

Melody rolled off of the bed and pulled down the blankets. "I have no idea what you're talking about and I'm too tired and we've been through too much today for me to care. Now come to bed."

The next morning I woke up to an empty bed; the covers were thrown back, so I knew that Mel was up. So much for a little morning time. I sat up and reached over to the nightstand to find my glasses, and after putting them on I swung my legs out off of the high bed onto the hardwood floor.

"Mel? Where are you?"

"Out here."

I heard her voice come from an open set of French doors, so I put on my shorts and threw my shirt on and walked out. She was sitting on a chair on the porch, looking over the trees and water. I sat down in the chair next to her and looked at the little table between us. "Where'd the coffee come from?"

"House elf. As soon as I got dressed she appeared out here and brought me coffee." Mel picked up the carafe and poured me a cup. "We've got a few hours before we can use the Floo. Might as well enjoy it."

I took a sip of coffee. How the hell was I supposed to enjoy waiting to tell someone that my car was missing? I was sure it was wrapped around a telephone pole. "Enjoy it…normally I would, but…"

"Your precious car, I know. Don't worry; they won't get in the trunk. I put a locking spell on it."

I squinted in the sunlight. "When'd you do that?"

"When we left New Orleans. I've been doing it ever since we started." She looked over to me as if it was one of the most basic things in the world. "Honestly, Hank. Your Muggle locks wouldn't keep anyone out of there."

Once we had finished breakfast the rest of the morning was an exercise in trying to relax, as Mel was calm, just as if she was waiting for a program to come on the wireless, but I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't sit still for more than a few minutes at a time and when I did sit down my leg would bounce until Melody would smack me on the arm, my signal to get up and walk around for a while. It was during one of my little walks that I ended up in front of the painting in the lobby, the one with the dark-headed girl. In the daylight I could examine it closely, and even though the girl was missing from the portrait I took my time looking at the surroundings. I was sure that the setting was the front porch of the Bon Charme. But when I saw the small plate that held the name of the portrait's occupant, that's when I lost my breath for a second. It couldn't be, could it? When I heard Marie talk to someone from the vicinity of the Check-In desk I went over to find out.

After the house elf left I couldn't wait. "Marie, what do you know about the portrait in the lobby, the one with the girl in the white lace dress? I saw the name, and I think I might know some people that are related to her."

"I hope you don't, as she was the only good one in the whole family. My great-great grandmother got the Bon Charme from her, as Charlotte never had any children of her own."

"Well, I think I do, but they spell it differently. The ones I know spell Malfoy with a y, but its spelled Malfoi with an i…"

Marie took out a handkerchief and spit into it. "Don't say that name, boy. We don't say it here; if you want to refer to Charlotte call her Aunt Charlotte, that's what everyone does. Bad family, that was a bad, bad family."

Holy shit, were the Malfoys all horrible except for Draco? "What'd they do?"

"Worked this plantation with Muggle slaves. Didn't matter what color; white, black, Creole, all Muggles were the same. When the good wizarding folk found out they ran them all off except for Aunt Charlotte. She took care of the Muggles, helped heal them after they'd been whipped or cursed. She was an odd woman, from all accounts. One day when my great-great grandmother Daphne was just out of Laveau Aunt Charlotte called her in to the office. My great-great grandmother worked for her here in the Bon Charme. Story has it that there was a dark look on Aunt Charlotte's face, and when another wizard came into the office she brought out parchment and signed over the Bon Charme to Daphne. She never said why she did it, and two days later Aunt Charlotte was never seen again. The other members of that family came back, saying that it was their family house, it wasn't legal, but it was legal. They didn't take it well and went into the nearest Muggle village and took it out on all those poor Muggles. Only a few of them were left alive, and those that were still there would've been better off dead, they way they was left."

Good grief, Draco was the only decent one. "I know a…one of the family in England, and he started down that path, but he seems to have turned his life around."

Marie shrugged. "Must of inherited some of Aunt Charlotte, somehow. I'm sorry, I know you didn't want to hear that old story. I suppose you're waiting for the Floo?"

"Yeah. Definitely." I ran my hand through my hair. "We've got to get our car back. We're supposed to be in Minnesota at the end of the week, and then it's the long drive to Oregon."

She shook her head at me. "Why are you driving a Muggle car if you're staying here? Ain't no Muggles ever stayed here before."

I sat down in the chair next to the desk. "It's a long story. I'm barely a wizard, and you can tell from the accent my wife's British. I didn't know I had any magical blood until I went over to Britain. I teach Muggle Studies at a school over there, and I've written a book and a textbook, so I'm going to the magical schools to try and get them to adopt my textbook and bookstores too. I thought it would be fun to show my wife America by driving, like the road trips I went on as a kid. Just didn't expect to get my car stolen."

"Hum. So you were in New Orleans to stop by Laveau, then?"

Crap, what was her name? Oh yeah. "Yep. Spoke to the, um, head of the school, Madame Cormier." At least I remembered her name this time.

Marie smiled and me and put her reading glasses on the desk. "Franny is a friend of the family, her grandmother and I went to Laveau together. I think you should Floo her when it turns on, she'll know how to help."

When the Floo finally switched on Melody contacted Franny Cormier, and I explained the situation. I told her that my brother was dating a witch, Lavender Brown, who was working with the American Auror Bureau in Washington, DC. Franny took the information about my car and said not to worry, that she would contact Lavender. I thanked her for all of the help and soon her face disappeared from the green flames.

Luckily things didn't take long, as soon a house elf found us on the porch and told us that we had a Floo call. Melody and I knelt down next to the fireplace as Lavender's head appeared in the flames.

"You really did it this time, didn't you?"

"Thanks, Lavender. Yeah, I guess so. Did Madame Cormier tell you that my car…"

"We already have that. There's a trace charm on it, we got that back last night. It's back in New Orleans, mostly."

"Mostly?" Oh shit. "What the hell happened? Is all of our stuff safe? And how did you know?"

Lavender shook her head. "After everything that's happened do you really think we'd just let you and Melody drive around in that car without precautions? We had some spells on the car, plus the Sorcière Perdue reports on every witch or wizard that rides. We catch some real idiots that way. There's an alert placed on your name, so when it popped up on the logs we knew something was up. I was getting ready to Floo the Bon Charme when you contacted me. Oh, and most of your car is in one piece. One of the wheel thingies came off."

Wheel thingies? Holy hell. "What about our stuff?"

"Melody's spell is pretty good, we can't get in, so it should be fine. Just stay put, we'll have someone out to pick you up in about an hour or so."

When we arrived back at The Vanishing Spectre later that day with the AAB agent I knew that my dream of the wonderful road trip was dead, along with the Jaguar. Apparently the two idiots had somehow managed to tear off the whole freaking driver's side front wheel along with most of the front end, so it was going to be shipped back to DC and my brother. There was a letter waiting for me from Ian, and somehow he'd been contacted as well because there were instructions on portkeys for the rest of the trip. Melody was happy, as we wouldn't be in the Jaguar anymore. At least if I couldn't drive the car Melody would be happy, so that was in my favor.

The rest of the trip was fine; I received a lot of positive response on my textbook, and there were only a few minor incidents at the book signings. I had a feeling I was going to get teased by Melody about the one elderly witch who managed to pinch my butt as I walked by to head to my chair at one signing, as she was eighty if she was a day. It seemed like the rest of the visits had flown by, as soon we were taking the last of the overseas portkeys to head home. As we stood there, waiting for the vase to turn the normal portkey color, Mel turned and looked at me.

"That was certainly interesting, Hank, and fun as well, but I'm ready to go home."

"Me too, Mel. I'm ready for a little bit of quiet." I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Maybe not too quiet."

She leaned up and kissed me quickly. "We'll see."