Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor the Avistrum Academy of Sorcery. Harry Potter is, of course, owned by the fabuloso J.K. Rowling, and the Avistrum Academy of Sorcery is the property of Avistrum, LLC. I am, however, pathetically addicted to both of them, as is made painfully obvious here. Nor do I own the majority of the characters in the school, they are my interpretation (with some somewhat significant artistic liberties) of real students at Avistrum. Does that take care of the legal junk?

A/N1: Thank you to the faculty and staff and fellow students at Avistrum for knowingly and unknowingly allowing me to use you in this. Our school is just too awesome to leave unheralded in the realms of fanfic. For those of you who haven't heard about it, check it out! And, as always, please REVIEW!

A/N2: This story is a sequel to Howl of Despair. I guess it's not mandatory to read the other first, but you're going to be awfully confused if you don't.

A/N3: (Last one, I promise) Your opinions count! Callum is at that age where hook-ups tend to be rather popular. I know pretty much where I want the story to go, but the details are up to you. Who do you want him to end up with? Leave a review and post your vote, and I'll write according to popular demand, in that aspect anyway. If the vote starts changing, so does the story, so leave a review with each chapter if you want your voice heard. Just to keep things fun and interesting.

Chapter One: We Don't Bite, We Nibble

It was going to take some getting used to, Callum decided, following the strange little house elf the Headmaster had sent for him. Rather than the tea towel togas of Hogwarts, it was clad in the strangest get up he'd ever seen, and he'd been around Dobby for an awful long time. Its long ears hidden beneath an oversized cowboy hat, in an eyesmarting combination of neon green and pale lilac, it was draped in what he could only describe as an opaque shower curtain, black with gold stars shooting all over it. He was in the middle of trying to decide if this was their uniform or if this was simply another eccentric like Dobby when they appeared outside of the Headmaster's Office.

The house elf vanished, leaving Callum alone in front of the guardian statue of the sphinx, nestled in the back of a rather dim hallway. There was something obscurely comforting with that; even after she'd married, Ginny had kept her rooms near the infirmary, and he'd often used them as an escape of sorts, a quiet place to study with far less chance of being interrupted than if he used the library. The sphinx stared at him regally, hooded eyes seeing straight through him.

"Your business?" She asked him, marble tail curling around her haunches.

"I'm here to see Headmaster Dowling," he answered politely. "He sent for me."

The statue regarded him for several long moments, but he did his best not to fidget. It wouldn't do to seem rude. He almost winced at a memory from second year, when a painting had set Peeves on him for a full week for failing to say hello as he rushed by late for class. Finally, the sphinx nodded and opened the door with her tail, beckoning him onward.

Stepping forward, he emerged into a spacious office that rivaled even Dumbledore's for the sheer manner of curiosities arranged around the room. A small pirate ship floated around at head level, its black and white jolly roger snapping in a sharp breeze unfelt by anything else in the room. On its main deck, a jeweled gold lamp rested in miniature. A white wiffle ball hung in bizarre prominence next to a blindingly polished silver sword, its metal all the brighter against the dark wood of the hanging plaque. Amulets and gadgets littered the space in neatly arranged categories, books lining every available inch of wall space, the shelves at times simply creating a break where something needed to be displayed. Directly across from the sword, another plaque was mounted on the wall, this one with a head fixed firmly upon it. A small brown mouse slept curled atop its scalp. Grimacing, Callum turned towards the Headmaster, who had patiently waited through his appraisal.

"What's the matter, boy, scared of me?"

Callum stared at the Headmaster blankly, but the sneering voice didn't match the jovial tones of his earlier greeting. Smiling slightly, Clark Dowling shook his head and touched a finger to his lips.

"Up here, stupid!" The voice called again, and mystified, Callum turned round, searching for the speaker. "I said up, you imbecile, or are you deaf as well as idiotic?"

Finally locating the voice, Callum's jaw dropped open, staring at the head. The eyes had opened and were now focused on him in a very rude glare, the fangs sliding out from between his lips. "How the he-"

"Step closer and I'll be only too glad to explain in detail."

"Lysander, that's enough," Clark declared firmly, and he cast a silencing spell before the head could deliver a retort. "You'll have to forgive him," he continued calmly. "He's never really forgiven me for defeating him."

"Really."

His smile growing, Clark gestured the young man to a seat before settling into his own behind the paper laden desk. "Lysander Tepish, formerly Lord of Transylvania. His tale is a footnote in a much larger one that I should probably tell you." He took a breath, and Callum could almost see the thoughts being filed into place, to create an efficiently told and well organized story. "This is something you will have to deal with, being Robin's apprentice. Quite a few years ago, I started something called the Dark Hunters, a specialized troop of SWAT members."

Having no idea what SWAT was, Callum simply nodded, not wishing to interrupt.

"Our purpose is to locate Dark activity and bring it to an end, wherever it may happen to take us. Many of the artifacts you see here in my office, such as Excalibur there, and the Medallion of Akpuch, were recovered from the dastards and brought here to be protected. I am still in charge of the Dark Hunters, and several other of the staff are members of it as well. This is actually why I am handing off my Defense classes to Mister Lupin. We have increasing reason to believe that She-"

"She, sir?" He interrupted, hearing the emphasis.

"Yes, Persephone," Clark answered, as if it should be obvious. At Callum's blank look, he chuckled. "Sorry. Sometimes I forget she hasn't spread across the pond quite yet. She keeps us hopping over here so much. She's been active for many years."

"That's why the Americans didn't get involved with Voldemort, isn't it?"

"Exactly so. We had our own evil little friend to be worrying about, and it's not as if Mister Potter didn't prove to be up to the task. Persephone probably isn't all the different from your Dark Lord, except that she's more or less female and that provides a difference in approaches, but anyway. As Robin's intern, you'll be dealing with us coming back from missions, as well. We'd like to keep Elena more towards the run of the mill injuries and sicknesses, the normal school incidents, while she's still a student, some things simply aren't appropriate. How old are you, Mister Sleipak?"

"Um, nearly eighteen, sir," he replied, feeling a little overwhelmed by the man.

"Hmm, let's keep that hush amongst the students, then, yes? We run school a year later here in the States, so the seventh year students are actually the same age as you, and that wouldn't really do for any kind of authority. It's hard enough for us to maintain the façade of respect as it is."

"Sir?"

"Never mind, Mister Sleipak, it's nothing to be worried about. Now, let's see about getting you introduced to Robin, shall we? I know you two have spoken through owls, but that's never quite the same."

A bit bemused, Callum followed the man out of the office. As Clark closed the door, a black blur came streaking out of the room, stopping next to them in the hall. The elegant feline regarded Callum with knowing golden eyes before pointedly flipping her tail at him, leaping up onto Clark's shoulder.

"Ah, yes, this is Bast. She's part cat, part Egyptian goddess, so mind you treat her with respect."

Smiling crookedly, the boy absently hooked his hands through the back loops of his jeans, a safe length away from the animal. "Cats and dogs don't mix so well, sir; I think I'll just keep a respectful distance."

"Yes, that might be best," the Headmaster agreed, nodding to the guardian sphinx. The pair (sorry, Bast), trio walked briskly through the halls, the Headmaster nodding to any students they passed. Tucked away not far from the main entrance, they found the large double doors leading into the infirmary, which Clark breezed through without knocking.

Inside, they found a woman tending to a nasty looking bruise on a girl's highly swollen knee, the girl wincing despite the woman's gentle touch. "Well, I'm tempted to let you keep the bruise, just so you'll learn your lesson, but I'll be right back with the balm and the potion." Sweeping her brown hair out of her face, the woman rushed by them towards the medicine cabinet. "Hello, Headmaster, what brings you here today?"

"What happened?" he asked instead, eyeing the girl thoughtfully.

"I fell, sir," she answered, ducking her head to try and hide the fierce blush.

"While trying once again to hug Professor Bloodthorne," the woman added dryly, coming back by them. "Here you are, Susan. I want you to take one swallow of the potion every four hours until the swelling has gone down, and rub the balm on your knee as needed, all right?"

Nodding, the strawberry blonde rose unsteadily to her feet and began hobbling out of the hospital wing.

"Susan?"

"Yes, ma'am?" The nurse pointed mutely at a pair of crutches, and the girl sighed, fitting them under her arms with the ease of obvious practice. "Yes, ma'am." Now supported with the crutches, she left the infirmary, and the woman turned back towards her guests.

"Well, Clark?" She laughed. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Robin, this is Callum Sleipak, your new apprentice. Mister Sleipak, this is Robin Kayenta, our school nurse and your new slavedriver."

"Clark!" She protested softly. Smiling, she held out a hand to the younger man. "Hello, Callum. I may call you that, yes?"

"Absolutely, ma'am. I'd actually prefer it," he replied, shaking her hand. She had a firm but gentle grip, and he found himself appraising her, as had become his habit, by scent as much by sight. She smelled very clean and slightly of potions, which was very common in a healer. More than that, though, there was something earthy to her, something than ran deep in her magic and washed over his senses.

She smiled again and nodded, letting go of his hand. "You'll meet Elena a little later, she's in classes at the moment. I'm sure you two will get along without any problems."

Clark cleared his throat apologetically. "I promise I'll let you have him for longer later, Robin, but I would like him to be able to get at least passingly familiar with where the major points of the school are before it gets dark. Is that all right?"

"Of course, Clark," Robin assured, her dark brown eyes amused. "I'll see you later, Callum, but don't worry. Your first official day isn't for a little while yet, so you'll have plenty of time to learn."

He had barely time to murmur a quick farewell before he had to follow the Headmaster again, out the doors of the infirmary and back towards the main entrance of the school.

"Let's see, I think some of the older students have a free period during this time," Clark muttered as they entered the Great Hall. A handful of students looked up from where they sat scattered through the room, some of them idly talking or snacking, some working on homework. "Ah, yes, she'll do nicely."

While Callum was still trying to figure out who he was talking about, Clark led them next to a table with a single person sitting at it, her quill scratching elegantly on a sheet of vellum. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked, without even looking up, and Callum recognized her as one of the girls outside, though her name quite escaped him.

"Kush, would you be willing to give Mister Sleipak a quick tour of the school and grounds? I'd like to make sure that everything is set up for Professor Lupin and his family."

"Of course, sir." She slid her letter into a folder, taking care not to smear the ink, and packed her other supplies into her black backpack, one strap covered in sew-on buttons. She nodded in response to the Headmaster's grateful smile and watched him walk away from the corner of her eye. Turning back to Callum she smirked. "Remember my name, or did we introduce ourselves too quickly?" She asked in a lilting Irish brogue that reminded him of home.

"He just called you Kush," he reminded her, feeling oddly comfortable in her presence. He wasn't usually comfortable around girls; they tended to giggle far too much.

"Then that's good enough. It is okay to call you Callum, or should we call you Mister Sleipak?"

"Callum is perfect."

"All right, then, Callum, this is the Great Hall. This would be where we eat and gather, and they're perfectly okay with us using it outside of meal times, we just can't be out after curfew, though as an apprentice, I'm not sure how you're affected by curfew. Over there on the wall is the Notices Board," she continued, pointing towards a large cork board covered in fluttering papers, quietly screaming out for attention. "Anything they want us to know about it posted there, so it's a good idea to check it regularly. They're somewhat casual about seating, we don't have to sit with our houses, although it's still more or less encourage, house unity and all. But, we have friends in other houses, and we can sit with them if we want most of the time.

Smiling, she brushed a long red braid over her shoulder and picked up her knapsack, hanging it over one shoulder. "The house elves are really nice about snacks, you can ask for pretty much anything and they'll get it for you, just ask them nicely. They're not like the ones back home, who've been trained for servitude in the feudal system. These are American elves, and they're just as bloody independent as the rest of the Yanks. Let's head out this way, towards the grounds."

Following the light touch on his arm, he turned and fell into step beside her, passing out of the Great Hall and through the entrance to the courtyard he had first seen. "This is the Fountain, the symbol of unity of our founders, and all that rot. It's really all kind of malarkey anyway, seeing as Caterina Colubrae left the school for good after Pyramis Parador was chosen over her for Headmaster after Englebert Enigmus passed on. But whatever, yeh? This is a really good place to hang out, when the weather's nice. We're in Virginia for this year, so it's actually pretty nice all year round, with actual seasons and all, but some places we've been have just been awful. We move around each year, you know," she added in response to his perplexed look. "Muggles and wizards co-exist much more closely on this side of the pond; it's harder to keep things hidden, so we have to move around quite a lot. It's kind of fun, actually; my first year, we were in the crater of Mt. St. Helens. At any rate, just be careful about Jolly; he likes to run people into the fountain."

"Jolly?" Callum asked helplessly, starting to get a headache from all the new information.

She regarded him sympathetically, her vivid emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. "Jolly Roger. He's actually a pirate flag that was flew over the ship of the legendary pirate wizard Captain Ronan Ulliam Moriarty, and was somehow infused with its own spirit. He was given to the Headmaster by some pirates he and the profs were negotiating with, because they thought it might be Dark Magic, seeing as it was talking and all. He made Jolly his own ship, which he commands through the hallways, and he has his own motley little crew, but he takes a rather fiendish delight in running students into the fountain with the long nines."

Callum sat down abruptly on the edge of the fountain, feeling more than a little lost.

Kushiel sat down next to him with a smirk, though not entirely unkind. "It's a lot to take in, I know. It's fairly different than Hogwarts."

"How do you know what Hogwarts is like?" he asked absently, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into the sunshine.

"My twin goes there," she answered patiently, and it occurred to him a moment too late that she'd told him that earlier. "Rhon and I send each other a lot of owls."

"Why don't you go there as well?" he queried curiously. "I mean, if your twin goes there and all."

"It's a long story," she laughed. "How about we save that for later, and make your brain explode with only what you need to know for right now?"

"Sounds good," he agreed, running a hand through his auburn curls.

"Kush!"

They both turned to regard a girl running up to them, shoulder-length brown hair flying around her face in messy waves. Kush smiled easily. "Hey, Cliona!" she called back. "What's the rush?"

Panting slightly, the girl he remembered as Cliona stopped beside them, clutching her messenger bag to her hip. "We're covering werewolves today in Care of Magical Creatures, so Professor Ward let me out." She grinned wickedly. "He said I didn't need the review. Whatcha up to?"

"Just giving Callum a tour per the Headmaster's request," she shrugged. "Care to join?"

"Sure." Frowning, she adjusted her blue and white tie so that it wasn't joining with the bag strap to try and strangle her. "Where have you gotten to yet?"

"The Great Hall and the Fountain," came the prompt reply. "I think they showed him the infirmary, as well?" She continued, quirking an eyebrow at him. At his nodded, Kush turned back to Cliona. "I was going to take him down to Craefter's Cottage, then swing through the inside."

"Are you going to show him the-"

"In due time."

"Then what are we waiting for?" She pushed her slightly messy hair out of her eyes and grinned. "Come on."

Groaning, Callum got to his feet at the same time as Kush. It was just all too much to take in at one time. Fortunately, they didn't seem to expect him to need to know it all at once, so he at least had that reprieve.

A golden kestrel came diving out of the air and Kush's eyes lit up when she saw it, holding up her arm for it to land on. It nuzzled her fondly, dangerous beaking stroking through the loosely braided hair, before holding its leg out like an owl for a message to be untied. Letter in hand, the girl gave it a piece of jerky from a wrapped pocket of her bag and watched it fly away towards the owlery. "Do you mind horribly if I just pass you off to Cliona, Callum?" She asked, her face beaming.

"Not at all," he answered politely, though hr secretly did a little.

"Who's the letter from, Kush?" Cliona asked, her brown eyes dancing mischievously.

"Amos," she replied, sticking her tongue out quickly. "So there." Smiling once more at Callum, she turned and headed back into the castle, leaving the pair of them alone.

"Amos is her best friend from back home," Cliona explained. "He doesn't write fairly often, because he thinks that everyone here will believe they're together, but they think it far more with how rarely he writes. It's weird. Anyhoo, let me take you down to Mistress Craefter's."

Beckoning him to follow, she headed down the white path away from the school proper. Sighing, he had no choice but to follow. Walking side by side, they progressed down the path to where he could vaguely see a neat little cottage, standing all by itself. Scents drifted by them, his instinct automatically sifting through and labeling each one. There was something a little off about Cliona's scent, something that was different in its nature than he was used to. It had to do with the wolf, of that he was certain, but it didn't seem to be so much make-up as carriage.

She let him puzzle over it for a moment; she knew he was confused, she could smell it on him, but despite being in Enigmus, Cliona had a great many friends in Colubrae, and that sometimes showed through. "Ask," she told him finally.

He raised his eyebrows, but blurted it out nonetheless. "Why is your scent off?"

"Off?" she echoed, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure what you mean."

"There's something a little off with your scent," he explained. "Something that's not quite right. It's like it's a mix between Remus and Morri, and yet there's something else to it, too."

"And Morri is…"

"Remus and Ginny's daughter."

"Ah, that's it, then," she chuckled, "The piece from Morri is simply that I'm a female werewolf; we give off a slightly different scent than males. The piece from Remus is, I'm guessing, the fact that I'm the Alpha Heir right now."

He stopped dead on the path, staring at her incredulously. "But you're female. Females aren't Alpha."

"They can be in my pack," she shrugged, continuing on so that he had to jog to catch up with her. "Back in Ireland, when the Scottish Wolf Plague was so bad, there was a time when the pack was all women and children, all the boys too young to be Alpha. Cubs can't be Alpha. So Bevin McCullough took charge, and following her vision, they came to America, where we've been very happily settled ever since. From that point on, Alpha has simply been whoever was best for it, fought for it the hardest and smartest. My oldest brother Conri disappeared, so we had to find a new Heir, and I won it."

Observing her thoughtfully, Callum saw the faint flare of her nostrils, the way her hand batted away the hair falling into her face. "You don't seem all that thrilled."

"I don't really want to be Alpha," she confessed. "I want Conri to come home and take it back up. I've got other things I want to do with my life."

"Well, where is he?"

"We don't know."

He could smell the partial lie on her, but let it pass. After all, it wasn't really any of his business. "What was it like, growing up in a pack?"

"Probably much the same as growing up in a large family," she shrugged. "Didn't you grow up with a pack since you've been bitten?"

"A very small pack, yes, and we were surrounded by non-lycans."

"So were we, outside home. We interact with other wizards and muggles all the time. They just know to stay out of our woods during the full moon. Here we are." She stopped outside the door of the perfectly painted white cottage, pulling him back just as a loud explosion caught him off guard, the door poofing out before settling back into its frame.

"This is normal?"

"This is normal," she affirmed. "Mistress Craefter is always trying new things, and some of them come out a little more spectacularly than others." She leaned forward and knocked politely on the door. "Ma'am? Would you like to meet our new infirmary intern?"

"Um, how about at dinner tonight?" a voice called through the door. "I'm afraid I've rather a lot of cleaning up to do."

"All right." Taking Callum's arm, Cliona started walking back the way they'd come. "She's a little odd, but you get used to her eventually."

By the time Cliona announced that it was time for dinner, she'd dragged him back into the castle and gone from the dungeons straight up to the top of the towers, showing him everything of interest. He knew, though it was doubtful he'd remember, where every classroom was, where every rough spot of prime mischief area was, and which paintings were fun to talk to and which would bore you to tears. She'd pulled him back outside to the Quidditch pitch, showing him the framed Quidditch jersey, number 42, that was the only number Avistrum had ever retired, belong to Professor Ward. That Care of Magical Creatures professor and Head of Enigmus House was also a professional keeper for the Toledo Terrors. It truly boggled the mind.

He'd also learned a great deal about Cliona through their idle conversation. She was a seventh year Enigmus student, the Avistrum equivalent of Ravenclaw, with no idea what she wanted to do after she graduated. She didn't seem terribly worried about it, deciding to go on to the Salem Witch's Institute for further study. She told him that it was practically an American tradition to go into university level studies without knowing what your career goals were. Callum couldn't even begin to fathom it; he'd known what he'd wanted to do since he was six.

She also told him stories about the staff. He'd mentioned the girl in the infirmary, along with her reason for being there, and Cliona had nearly fallen down laughing. She assured him that this was a perfectly normal reaction for that story; Professor Bloodthorne, the head of Colubrae and professor of Divinations, was not a man to be hugged, yet for some reason, Susan Jevoli kept trying.

"Kush once compared him to a teddy bear with a spiked collar," she elaborated. "You really want to hug the bear, but you really don't want to get stuck by the spikes and the retribution to follow. She lost our house fifty points for that little stunt the first time she tried it, and it just keeps getting worse. There's no possible way that Enigmus will ever win the house cup while she's got this goal going."

"Why are you still having classes?" he asked abruptly, his brain reminding him of the month. "Hogwarts is done in the beginning of June."

"We're actually done halfway through May, but these are optional summer courses. The professors decided to keep the school open in the summer for students who either can't go home or really don't want to, or if they need extra lessons in something. That and some of us just really didn't want to leave." She smiled slightly, her brown eyes closing as she breathed in the smells wafting towards them from the Great Hall. "I love my pack, but this is pack, too. This is home."

They entered the Great Hall and he realized he had no idea where he was supposed to sit. Kushiel had told him that things were more casual here, but he couldn't really imagine staff sitting with their students, especially not with the High Table being in such prominence in the far end of the room.

"Callum! Cli!" A voice called, and a blonde waved at them excitedly from the Parador tables. "Come join us!"

"Want to?" Cliona asked him.

"Am I allowed to?"

"Sure. Summer time, even the profs sit haphazardly. It's one of the many reasons why summer time is so much fun." She tugged on his arm and led him over to the red and gold table, plopping down next to Kushiel. "Who's this?" she queried, noting the much smaller person on Kushiel's left.

"This is Morrigan Lupin," the redhead answered, tousling the more coppery locks of the child. "I'm teaching her the art of Dots."

"She says she's going to teach me to whoop you," Morrigan informed Cli matter-of-factly, and Kushiel snickered into her hand.

"Is that so?"

The blonde girl took Callum's hand and sat him down next to her, across the table from a girl he knew he probably should recognize, and yet couldn't. "You probably don't remember me, my name's Aurelia, and this is Carriegan."

"That's right," he groaned, shaking his head. "A metamorphmagus, no wonder I couldn't place the face. And you changed your perfume."

"How do you know I changed my perfume?" she demanded.

"Werewolf," Callum and Cliona answered in unison.

Aurelia giggled. "Pirate," she added, though Callum couldn't even begin to recognize the reference.

"Muggle movie," Cliona whispered. "It's all right." Reaching down into her messenger bag, she pulled out a piece of paper, rather than parchment, that was covered in evenly spaced dots forming a disconnected grid, as well as a quill and a bottle of blue ink. "You're on, Kush."

"You don't scare me, I retaught you this game, remember?" the other girl retorted, retrieving her own quill and a bottle of dark green ink. "Here, Morri, this will give you a good chance to practice." Much to Callum's amazement, she handed the quill to Morrigan and let the eight year old clamber into her lap to be closer to the parchment.

"How many younger sibs do you have?" he asked, laughing.

"None, actually, just my twin. But troublemakers take care of our own."

"Are you from the London Sleipaks?" Carriegan asked him, her dark blue eyes narrowed.

"More or less," he answered evasively. He'd made amends with his family, but they were only blood, and poor substitute for pack. It wasn't something he was proud of saying, but it was the truth as he saw it.

"You know what? I think today is a shepherd's pie day," Aurelia announced randomly.

"You get used to that, too," Cliona whispered in his ear, and he quickly coughed to cover a snort of laughter.

He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and smiled up at Ginny. "And how is your day going so far?"

"I'm more lost than my first day at Hogwarts," she admitted with a laugh. "There, at least, I had my brothers' knowledge to help me get around." The woman frowned slightly. "Morri, did you ask?"

"Miss Kush, is it okay if I sit in your lap?" the child asked in response.

Smiling, the young woman nodded. "It's perfectly alright, Morri."

"Yes, Mama, I asked."

All four girls laughed at the reply. "She's a future Colubrae, all right," Carriegan gasped, holding her side.

Smiling, Ginny nodded. "Yes, I had her pegged for Slytherin as well, though she may have inherited one of two Gryffindor tendencies."

"And Remus?" Callum asked the healer.

"Dying to poke around the Headmaster's office," she chuckled. "He couldn't stop staring at everything. You know how he is around things like that."

"How did he react to Lysander?"

Whatever response he had been expecting, it wasn't to see the thirty-six year old sit quickly on the bench, doubled over in silent laughter. When she could breathe again, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "He jumped back like he'd been bitten and stared at him, then told him not to pick on something that could bite back, or he might end up being a furry mounted head for three days out of the month. Then Tom got very close and inspected him, and loudly announced that he wasn't anything compared to Uncle Snape!"

Callum dissolved into laughter, easily able to imagine the precocious six year old saying such a thing. And it was, to an extent, quite true. Severus Snape had significantly mellowed in his personal life, though he was still as snarky as ever, but his professional attitude had remained precisely in place, and he routinely sent boys and girls of all ages out of his classroom in tears. His wife just shook her head and smiled at such things.

"Then Lorcan scolded Tom, saying that he needed to be polite to the pointy-teethed man, even if it was true!"

The boys in question came up to the table then, followed by their father. "Morri, are you going to eat with us up at the High Table?"

"Can I please eat here?" she pleaded prettily, her hand pausing over the parchment.

"It wouldn't be any problem, Professor Lupin," Kushiel offered.

"All right, Morri. Love?"

"I'll be there in a moment, Remus," Ginny waved him on. She turned to Callum, her amber eyes grave. "You're doing all right, though?"

"No, Ginny, I fell in with a mad bunch of miscreants and delinquents, and we are currently plotting on how best to sacrifice small animals to the forgotten gods," he replied with a straight face, and she lovingly smacked him upside the back of his head.

"Enjoy your dinner, since I assume you're eating here. And from what the professors and staff tell me, miscreants might not be too far off," she added, winking at the girls. She rose gracefully to her feet, absently kissing her daughter's forehead, and made her way to the High Table to join the rest of her family.

The last of the staff appeared to take their seats and the meal began, but Callum's plate remained empty. He glanced around and saw that Morrigan's, too, held no food. "What am I missing?" he asked,his voice heavy with resignation.

"You have to think about what you want," Carriegan informed him, daintily eating her Caesar salad. "Then the house elves will send it up to your plate."

Morrigan closed her eyes and frowned in hard concentration, then opened them to find steaming fish and chips on her plate. "Yay!" she cheered, popping a vinegar laden chip in her mouth. "They do real food, too!"

Aurelia laughed around her shepherd's pie. "That's what Kush said her first night here, too. The food's not really that different, is it?"

"Very different," Callum and Kushiel answered in one voice. They looked at each other and grinned. "Have you decided what you want?" she continued.

"Not really, so I guess I'll just have the first American food I ever tasted." Remembering that first picnic long ago at the lake, his plate was suddenly filled with French fries, a hamburger, and a hot dog. He applied himself more to the food than to the conversation as he ate, listening to everything going on around him. Cliona and Kush, with the extension of Morrigan, were involved in a highly competitive game of Dots, though both occasionally made rather pointed contributions to the conversation. He wasn't really sure what Aurelia and Carriegan were talking about, only that the word "punkin" was mentioned quite frequently, and immediately followed by spates of giggles.

It was quite unnerving, actually.

"Ha!" Kushiel declared triumphantly. "Eighteen to seventeen, we win."

Mock-grumbling, Cliona reached down into her messenger bag and pulled out a sheet of star stickers, pulling off two green ones and planting them firmly in the center of the winners' foreheads. "All right, I concede the defeat."

"You do this often, then?" He eyed the sheet of stickers, fully half of which were missing.

"Fairly often, yeh," Kush replied. "It's a habit. Healthy competition and all that rot."

Morrigan started nodding off as dessert began appearing on the plates, and Callum glanced up towards the front of the room to observe Tommo fast asleep in Ginny's lap and Lorcan blinking rapidly in an effort to stay awake.

"I should probably help them get the children to bed," he told the girls quietly, and Kushiel assisted him in scooping the drowsy child out of her lap. Remus caught his eye and nodded, taking Lorcan by the arm as Ginny stood with Tom. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure."

"Of course you will, Callum, you're not rid of us that easily," Aurelia giggled.

"Night," the other girls chorused.

He followed Remus and Ginny to their quarters, knowing his own were nearby but having no recollection on how to find them, and helped them tuck the children into their own beds, brought with them from the house in Hogsmeade. The day's adventures were telling on them all, he decided; both Remus and Ginny seemed tired as well. He bade them goodnight and found his own rooms one door down, setting the password to Packsong. It was always his password, for it meant a great deal to him, but was unlikely to come up in casual conversation.

Undressing and sliding into his bed, he laid back against the pillows, closing his grey and blue eyes. It had been a long day, yes, but an interesting one. The cluster of seventh year girls scared him somewhat, but he could probably get used to them, and the children seemed to like it here. His last thought falling asleep was that he hoped things would stay this quiet.