Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters were used without permission. They are the copyright of J.R. Rowling and Warner Bros. They are used with consideration and with no intent to make money. My thanks to Ms. Rowling for the many hours of entertainment her writing has afforded me. And out of respect for her, will withdraw this story if anyone finds it offensive

Chapter One

He stood on the hillside and saw the lights trembling in the dark. Smiling to himself, he started down the game path that led around the lake and towards a tall white castle sitting on the hill. He passed the castle and kept walking.

It was late summer and he was once again ensconced as Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Magic and Witchcraft. But, term hadn't started yet and he was headed towards his real home, the Roma (gypsy) encampment called a kumpania. He saw the richly carved and painted wagons circled around glowing tall bonfires.

He could hear the pulse of the rich music coming from drums, fiddles and guitars. He knew they would be dancing. His smile broadened as he drew near. Whenever the Roma danced and played it was always a party. They were having a wonderful time and Harry looked forward to joining his wife and his son and his friends for a celebration. The kumpania decided that his son Daniel needed a send-off for his first week of school.

Used to traveling the roads for six months out of the year, the band of people in their vardos (wagons) made the special trip and were now encamped near Hagrid's hut. Harry didn't hurry as he walked. The moon of harvesting was bright and he loved to walk through the grasses and the wildflowers, kicking up their aroma so that he could smell the fragrance on the breeze.

A voice greeted him in the dusk of the day. Harry couldn't see the wood glen elf but knew he stood near. Harry bent his head in respect and whispered, "The woods are alive tonight Verillieon. How are you? Well, I hope." He continued to stroll around the lake, it's dark waters reflecting the last slim glimmer of red and gold sunset.

"We are well, Harry," the elf's voice rippled through the trees. "We are happy to see thee in the woods this evening."

"I am happy to hear you, too," Harry said to the dark shadow of the huge trees. He couldn't and didn't expect to see the elf.

"We will leave thee to enjoy the night," the elf said and Harry knew he was gone.

Harry walked on, barely leaning on his cane, catching the smell of the burning wood and smoke as it drifted his way. The sounds of laughter grew louder. His thoughts drifted backward in time and he shook himself and stopped.

It's time to think of better times, he thought and realized that it had been years since he took a walk for the pleasure of it. He glanced at the castle. It remained dark except for a few faint lights going on in various parts; it too, was coming alive. His staff was beginning to assemble for the school year.

That very morning he stood at the gates and watched as several carriages rolled up. McGonagall emerged and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. He knew that she would continue to show up every year to teach children until she fell over from old age, which he knew had come and gone. He grinned at the thought. She was almost 90 and still teaching. And she still had that steely cold eye for special students.

Then there was Flitwick, Sibyll Trelawney, Vector and Neville Longbottom. Ginny arrived with him, along with her brood of three. He shook his head. He had opened another wing of the castle and the house elves were even now getting it ready for the staff that came with families.

He sobered for a moment, knowing that Nadya, his wife, would not be joining him in the castle. She found it to be too confining and dark. Given her spirit to be free and unconfined they agreed that she would spend the winter in Hogsmeade in a small cottage where she could wander at leisure into the countryside. With his history of drawing trouble to his family, Harry wanted her close and he knew that their son Daniel also needed to be able to have contact with both of them.

Harry thought of his dark-haired son, so different then himself in many ways-gifted as an Adept Senseve-one of the few in the world.

He stopped and closed his eyes so that he could learn to view the world the way his son did; through his senses. He could feel eddies of warm and cool air currents coming off the lake, the buzz of insects and the movement of small nocturnal animals coming out for the night. His nose picked up the different fragrances of the tall fur trees, the brush and grasses, the faint odor of moss. He turned in a circle listening to the sounds of the voices in the camp, making out each person in his mind as they spoke or laughed.

He could hear Jolie. Harry had made friends with the Gypsy years before. He was the first Roma he had ever met. He could see the dark flashing eyes that drooped sleepily, the gold teeth in front, the toothpick stuck from the corner of his mouth or the pipe with its' curling smoke. The man always wore the broad-brimmed felt hat and the typical gypsy clothing; a blouse tucked into trousers, a scarf around the neck, jewelry of gold around the neck or earrings. Harry thought about it and realized he'd rarely ever seen the man without a smile, a disarming mysterious smile on his face.

There were others; Gregor was a thick man, tall and strong like an ox. He had thick muscular thighs that kept him on six foot tall stilts even at his age. Harry had been a stilt walker with the kumpania for a short time. The families were entertainers and traveled, putting on Fairs for the countryside villages. Harry knew what it took, the energy and skill, to be a stilt walker. Gregor was also jovial and a terribly kind man who would give anyone the bread from his bowl.

Harry started his stroll again and thought of the faces he would see when he stepped into the camp. They had taken him in and treated him like a brother, allowed him to marry one of their own. They were a magnificent people, and mysterious natural sorcerers and wizards. Harry still had not fathomed the depth of their magic and knew that, like Dumbledore, he probably would never know what they knew.

Nadya. Ah, my beautiful, lovely wife, Harry thought. He was still amazed. He was sixteen when he met her and married the same year. He had never lost his feelings for her, never doubted them and never wanted anyone else. He smiled again. She had grown into a woman of ferocious strength and integrity. Although not the most beautiful woman in the world, Harry thought that her dark eyes, her long curly beautiful hair draped around her tiny face was all the beauty he needed. It took his breath away every time he looked at her. He knew it was her attitude, and her deep love for him that made her all the more attractive. She was now pregnant with another child, still just barely visible on her tiny frame. She had saved his life only weeks before. She and his son. How many times had someone saved his life, he wondered.

Harry stepped over the wagon tongue and walked slowly into the camp. He burst out laughing and immediately stifled it as he watched his friend, Severus Snape, take to his feet and begin to dance. Pascal, Reuben and Viktor were on each side, moving very slowly as they taught him the steps and the moves.

Harry grinned. The man was more than six foot tall and towered over the much smaller Roma. He was dressed as they were but obviously not accustomed to allowing his body to relax and move with music. He was moving stiffly about the circle and his godson, Harry's twelve year old son, Daniel was screaming with joy, stamping his feet and clapping.

Harry remembered the man everyone called Snape when he had started Hogwarts at the age of eleven. Here was a different person, a friend and a beloved family member. His hair, once black, greasy and stringy, was now cut short and the color of salt and pepper. He wore a Roma hat shoved back on his head and his head was bent, studying his feet. Harry walked slowly into the circle and began to clap and shout encouragement, as was the custom.

Severus looked up and motioned for Harry to join him. Harry stepped into the circle and his son went wild with joy. They all stopped, positioned their feet together, hands loose and in the air. They each took a step and began to keep beat with the music. Harry closed his eyes and stepped, his hand on his friend's shoulder, and one on his.

He felt the greatest joy he'd experienced since his son was born. He lifted his head and danced with his eyes closed keeping time to the music. It filled his heart and he felt reborn.

--------------------------

Harry sat by the smoldering fire and accepted a cup of the hot steaming coffee the Roma liked to drink in the evening. It was boiled twice and laced with sugar and had a powerful kick to it. Sometimes he wondered if it didn't have the power to make one see visions. He gazed at the fire and thought about the coming year.

He knew that all he had to do to run the school fairly smoothly was keep Hagrid from bringing in dragons to eat the children or set them on fire, to keep Neville happy and away from his ever growing garden of strange and mysterious and rare plants; some of which would also eat children. He knew that he could keep Professor Trelawney in her aerie loft by sending her a message for a 'reading' every now and again, even though Harry knew she was an outright fraud. He'd seen real fortune-telling with the Roma people. His own wife was a gifted Seer.

His only other issue was getting the house-elves to accept time off and actually take it. Thanks to his friend, Hermione Weasley, the Minister of Magic, the elves were given rights as individuals and were no longer enslaved by the wizarding community. It hadn't made her very popular with the old wizarding families particularly the pure bloods. Most of which had not been happy that a muggle-born had been made Minister in the first place. It hadn't automatically bestowed privileges on the house elves, but all in good time, he thought.

Harry sat back with his old friends, Jolie and Gregor, Viktor and Pascal and Severus. They listened as stories were being told around the campfire. The night was growing long and Harry watched his son who was very famous in his own right in the camp for his abilities to solve riddles. He could feel himself fill with pride and he wanted to stand up and say to everyone present, "This is MY son." He thought of the impression he would make if he did. The Romani detested boasting.

Out of the darkness a pair of horses appeared pulling a wagon. It was a typical gypsy vardo with magnificent hand carving on the outside, painted in many hues. There was a single woman driving it. The horses were snorting as she pulled into the main area. The group stopped to watch her as she stared at them. She was smiling.

Jolie stood with Gregor, as the elders of the kumpania, and walked over to her and greeted her. "Welcome to our camp. Stop and rest and eat with us."

She nodded and climbed from the seat. Two Roma boys hurried up and took the reins of the horses and began to unhitch her wagon.

Harry watched with curiosity. It was clear this was a Gadjo (non-gypsy) woman and she appeared to have no men with her. He stood as well because he knew who she was. It was his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; Madam Pullard. Although obviously not a gypsy in her coloring, she was a blond with blue eyes, she wore the traditional clothing of the Roma women. She had a blue scarf trimmed in gold holding back her hair, a blouse that revealed her shoulders, tucked into a skirt that fell to the ground. She wore shoes which was not customary but probably necessary while she traveled. Her ears held large earring and her hands had many rings on them.

Harry had heard from her in a letter sent by owl. She had learned of his marriage to a Roma woman through the newspaper articles that had been printed the year before. When he advertised for a teacher for the position she had applied. Harry was satisfied with her reply to him and the credentials she carried.

He had met her once and knew that she had married a Roma man who had died in an accident. She remained on the road traveling with various families who accepted her because of her marriage.

Harry was glad to have her. One of the headaches he had inherited from Dumbledore was the difficulty in keeping the Defense Against the Dark Arts' position filled.

He walked over to her and introduced himself, "Madam Pullard. Harry Potter." He shook her hand, also not a custom of the Roma people. He knew that the people around the campfire were watching. She also knew the customs and was far more experienced then he in making herself comfortable with a new kumpania.

He left her to introduce herself to the elder men and then stepped back away from the circle. He knew she would get to know the women very gradually, but that it was their place to remain behind the men and quiet.

Harry returned to his place around the fire and the stories continued for a while longer. Harry was still smiling to himself. He worked for a long time to keep the information from Hermione that the women in the Roma kumpania followed very strict social customs. She would have seen it as barbaric for the women to serve the men and not speak unless spoken to; to not be a part of the inner circle.

He was rolling that around in his head when he glanced over and saw the look on his friend's face. Severus was staring at the Pullard woman like he'd just seen a feast laid out before a hungry man. Harry almost burned himself choking on the coffee. Why you old dog! Harry thought. He watched with amusement as Severus followed the woman with his eyes. Harry never thought to see the day when his old snarling Potion's master would even look at a woman.

Harry gave her another look. She had long blond hair worn tied with a scarf. She was very attractive for an older woman and had kept her figure, although rather buxomous for his taste. Of course, he thought, if I were Snape's age I probably would be drooling in my cups, too. He'd never really thought about it because his life had been occupied by a hundred other things; giving thought to Snape's love-life was not one of them.

I'm just reaching too far, he thought. He's just laid eyes on her.

Madam Pullard settled in at the other side of the campfire and accepted a cup from Carlena, Kobi's wife. She sat looking at the fire sipping her coffee and introducing herself to the women who stopped and whispered to her. She was being inconspicuous.

Harry wasn't the only one that was watching her. Nadya sat behind Harry and he could sense it when she got to her feet. People were leaving the cooling fire and going off to bed. Harry was about to walk up to the school with Severus. He noticed that Madam Pullard had stopped and was talking to Daniel. It was seldom that women talked to the men or the boys of the camp, at least for the Roma women. It would be a breach of etiquette.

Nadya was at Daniel's side in seconds and Harry strolled over to find out what the problem was.

"This is my son, Yanel," Nadya said loudly. She did the most unusual thing by putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes, I recognized him. Or at least the resemblance to Harry," Pullard said. She was smiling.

Nadya was not smiling, "Do you have no men of your own?" she asked.

Whew! Trouble brewing, Harry thought and stepped in. "Nadya, Madam Pullard has been invited here by me. She will be teaching this year at Hogwarts."

Nadya looked at him in surprise and turned Daniel away with her hands. "Yanel, make sure the lady's horses are watered and bedded for the night. My pardon to you," she said in Roma to her.

Pullard nodded. Since she was the older woman, Nadya was required to show her respect, even follow her requests. However, that wasn't necessarily true if she were a Gadjo visitor and not Roma, although it was necessary to not insult a visitor. Then there was the obvious fact that Pullard was dressing and acting Roma. Harry could tell that there was some social graces being questioned and mulled over by both women.

What really startled him was the smooth voice of Severus just behind him, interrupting the whole thing. "Good evening." Nadya looked up startled and Pullard smiled charmingly at the tall man standing behind Harry.

Nadya stepped over in front of Severus and proclaimed with her head held high and straight, in a defiant voice and in Romani, "This is my dat (father) Severus Snape, you have met my husband and now my son." She said it in a way that really sounded like, 'these are my men, now go find your own'. She looked very small standing in front of Snape acting like a protective mother hen.

Harry stared at her like he was looking at her for the first time and really didn't know the woman and Severus was staring down at her head. He glanced over at Harry with his eyebrows raised and a quizzical look on his face and Harry shrugged.

Pullard seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on. She bowed slightly and stepped back a step, turned and walked into the dark towards her wagon.

Nadya watched and then stomped away in the opposite direction, not looking at Harry or Severus, snarling as she walked off, "Lisitsa (vixen)!

"Nadya!" Harry said. She didn't turn back.

"What was that all about," Severus said watching her go, "and what did she say?"

Harry stared at his dark figure in the night, just barely making out his face, and said, "Well, it wasn't nice, Severus, that's all I'll say."

"Do you think it's the pregnancy?" Severus asked, staring after her and shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry.

"Severus, how should I KNOW," Harry said. "Am I supposed to be the expert on women?" He couldn't decide whether to end the evening by going up to the castle and not saying goodnight to her or, following her and try to sooth her.

"I will say goodnight to you then," Severus said and left him with his dilemma.

"Thank you very much," Harry said quietly. He walked towards Nadya's wagon thinking how it had all started off to be such a nice evening.