Sunlight was glancing through the panes of glass in Caelius Lupin's office. Or it would have been had the weather in all the Ministry of Magic offices been controlled by the maintenance department's spells. Coincidentally, the weather in his office and outside in Central London were the same and Caelius was treated to the warm, strong sunlight of a bright Friday morning.

He rubbed his forehead, a wide, much wrinkled area, which had grown increasingly creased, Caelius believed, over the last couple of months. The Ministry, his department, was responsible for the initiative of inclusion for all at Hedgewards, Britain's only magical school, and it was giving him, the head of the Department of National Relations, yet another migraine.

Oh yes, he had agreed with Aberforth Dumbledore in principle, that all children, no matter their magical ability, should be allowed access to any school in the UK, subject to admission criteria, but it was he who was responsible for the practical implementation. He glanced at the pile of letters he had to deal with. In a few hours, when the morning's mail was delivered by the tiny, electric-blue imps who zoomed through every office in the Ministry at precisely 9 O'clock every morning, the pile would be replenished and he would have more work to do.

And every day, time was running out. The days strode slowly but decisively towards 1st September. Caelius pulled towards him the nearest letter, which had arrived yesterday, and he skimmed over the contents. A letter from a non-wizard family who say that, because their elder son had been admitted to Hedgewards last year, chosen for his clear magical talent, they would like to know how to apply for a place for their second son, with no magic under the new admissions policy? Caelius had yet to consider this for, he had not yet considered it, the letter here being the first actual query he had had.

The reason he had not considered it was because there were more pressing needs to consider, such as, how were the non-wizards going to Hedgewards going to get onto Platform 9 ¾? If the threshold was left open anyone could enter the platform, yet the issuing of magical passes might prove difficult to use for someone new to magic. And also, Caelius added guiltily himself, if he didn't have any applications this year, the finer details he could consider at leisure.

Then there was the matter of spellbooks and other paraphernalia. Non-wizards could not get onto Diagonalley so a non-wizard version of the required shops had been set up. But a good deal of capital had had to be invested in the scheme and there were various complications here too what books would non-wizards require? All Hedgewards students required a wand yet, how could non-wizards obtain one for no wand would choose a non-wizard A false one might be considered degrading yet arriving with no wand at all would allow them to stand out.

Brooms too were also difficult. Again, Hedgewards students required one and though students could just select a broom any activity involving one meant flying it. He had carried out tests upon charming a broom to operate with ordinary, voice-operated commands, meaning no magic from the owner was required, but Caelius had been unable to get one to permanently adhere to a broom long term.

And so the problems, now real problems with at least one potential non-wizard on Hedgewards' roll next month, continued…

At least Caelius had been able to influence the curriculum, planning for an increased number of lessons in subjects such as "History of Magic", "Astronomy", "Herbology," "Muggle Studies", and "Divination", with recommendations to staff of how to incorporate non-wizards into the practical subjects.

But that then led to Caelius's biggest hurdle had been the mindset of the staff at Hedgewards itself. They had had three or four years to get used to the idea of non-wizards arriving at the school: right from the start Aberforth, as headmaster, had broached the subject with the staff making sure he was clear to them that the admission of non-wizards was not an if but a when. Following countless training days Aberforth had had to admit to Caelius that though the mindset of the staff was changing it was a glacial change rather than a torrent and that all of them would get used to the idea and work with it eventually. Caelius wondered whether this September was "eventually" enough.

He pushed aside the letter from the parent, and the others, from suppliers, from other parents demanding to know how the changes would affect their magical children, from politicians both from within the Ministry and from the non-wizard sister-ministry at Whitehall. It was going to happen, and a month from now at least one non-magical student would be educated within the noble surroundings of Hedgewards castle.

At least he had Severus Snape on his side in terms of Hedgewards. Snape had been made Headmaster two years ago, on the passing of Aberforth Dumbledore. His usual sombre manner had softened a little when he understood exactly what the principle would entail. Caelius had had a feeling that Snape would be receptive – his long-term girlfriend, Tabitha Penwright, of the Department of Mysteries, was a witch with limited magical ability. Where Miss Penwright's abilities lay was the interpretation, understanding and analysis of the deepest and most entangled mysteries, dangerous and dark, perilous, lethal and innocuous.

Leaning back in his chair, Caelius rubbed his eyes and leaned his head back, staring at the gorgeous blue of the early morning imitation sky. His mind drifted to his nephew, Septimus, who would be starting at Hedgewards that year. What would life be like for him? He would be rubbing shoulders with non-wizards throughout his senior life and, although that was not unlike his primary education – his mother, Cecilia, Caelius's sister-in-law, had insisted Septimus be educated at the local primary school – but this was a much more important time in his life. The changes he made at Hedgewards would affect him directly.

Putting his hand out towards the pile of letters, Caelius scraped his chair back and got to his feet. He needed a break, a change from these four walls, even if the four walls changed in any case. Clouds whizzed high above him as he made his way to his office door and, withdrawing his wand, swished it, dimming the lights. Caelius made his way left, towards the elevator, before pressing the button which would take him to the foyer and to the bank of chimneys. He would floo to Grimmauld Place and speak to the rest of the Reciprocators. Action was needed and he couldn't now do it alone.

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"Caelius!" James Potter looked up from his cup of tea which Lily just had made him to the fireplace in the living room of No. 12, Grimmauld Place. He saw the old wizard, his friend's brother and their connection to the Ministry, shake his head as if a swarm of bees were inhabiting it and smile a semi-forced smile in his direction.

"Good morning, James," replied Caelius wearily. "Have you just go here?" James shook his head. "Stopped over, with Lily. We had a small get-together for Harry yesterday and our own party sprang from there." He glanced up the stairs to where the bedrooms and Sirius's study was. "The old man's still in bed – he's not long turned in. Lily was far more sensible," he added unnecessarily.

Because, of course, the headquarters of the Reciprocator movement was also Sirius Black's house. It had been that way been since his ancestor, Joseph Black, had founded the Reciprocators, to promote wizard-muggle understanding. The principle today was much the same although, for political correctness, the Reciprocators promoted wizard-non-wizard understanding.

Any political development which operated around wizards and non-wizards required the Reciprocators to consider the effects on either wizard or non-wizard communities. Their current projects included the universal acceptance of any child, no matter their magical ability, to any school they wished to attend, the Hedgewards situation being the most pressing. It was James Potter as a representative of the Reciprocators, Severus Snape as Hedgewards headmaster and Caelius representing the Ministry for Magic who had the responsibility for that sphere. Lily Potter had taken on the responsibility, with Tabitha Penwright, of the Auld Magic.

"He'll need to be up by the afternoon," commented Caelius seriously, "Remus needs him to fly to Lancashire, to Silsden." The other current concern was the recent government introduction of half-breeds to the country. Where, the Ministry reasoned, non-wizards had been accommodated so too should these other magical creatures, werewolves, vampires and the like. Not that any had applied to reside in Britain – yet – but the idea was in the public's consciousness and it was up to Sirius and Remus to advocate the advantages of such creatures being allowed to reside, in controlled conditions, in the UK in the spirit of equality and diversity.

Of course there had been a backlash against the integration. The government, a national integrated government combined of both the Ministry of Magic and the non-wizard British Government, had taken a long time in their decision to allow half-breed creatures into the country. They used the weight of precedence to aid their argument, that several other countries in Europe, and indeed the world, tolerated these creatures' presence.

The Combined Government had been inundated with complaints with an increase in a call in recent years from non-wizards for their own government again, representing only the interests of non-wizards. The CG was quick to point out that any call for a government that would only represent one part of the country to the exclusion of others was discrimination, but this hadn't stopped a "Non-Wizard National Party" from being conceived and, at this spring's local elections, putting forth a candidate.

"Would you like a drink? Some tea, perhaps?" James waved his hand over his teacup and a second cup, full, unlike his own, appeared in front of Caelius. "You look awful, by the way." Lupin looked at James and breathed a heavy sigh, but said nothing. "You haven't been up all night again?"

"When a job needs doing, it needs doing," sighed Caelius again. He was tired. But then, no-one else could do what he needed to do. "But there is something you can help me with." He handed James the letter from the non-wizard family. James took it and looked at the outer envelope. "I would appreciate your point of view," he added as James opened it and glanced over the words. "As you can see – "

" – we have our first applicant," James interrupted, a grin on his face.

"Indeed so," replied Caelius, without smiling. "I need you to outline, from your point of view, the practical steps which need to be put in place for him to be integrated successfully. How should he, for example, be selected for a house…? Quidditch…? How will his magical education be manifest…?"

James nodded. Following Aberforth's death two years previously a split in the Reciprocators nearly occurred when the issue of who was in charge came to the fore: Caelius and Sirius had put themselves forward, the former being voted in, but there were several abstentions.

"It has to be right," agreed James, "for the boy, for Hedgewards…"

"And for us," added Caelius. "We have to show that the inclusion idea is practicable."

"I'll run it past Lily, too." James looked back to the letter and got to his feet. "Being from a mug – non-wizard family, she would be more sensitive to the issue."

"How is her work going?" added Caelius, seemingly eager to prolong the conversation, addressed James's retreating back. He turned, flicking his long hair over his shoulder.

"She is still immersed in Aberforth's work. She has spent a deal of time with Severus too, discussing the implications of the applied-science-magic aspects, the Universal Link and all that."

Aberforth's shoes were big ones to fill, Caelius knew. He had inherited a vast amount of information from old Dumbledore – the wizard had had a lifetime to accumulate all he had, and now Caelius had so little time to process it to effect and use it simultaneously alongside the constant stream of governmental changes that had occurred of late. So much to accommodate in his mind, especially some of the revelations, so bald, so raw, to which he alone was now privy and whose burden, even now astounded and shocked him.

"Any word from Miss Penwright?" James shook his head, making his way back towards the settee in the large living room, knowing that the "quick chat" Caelius thought he was having would feel far longer from his point of view. "She's in the European office, isn't she?"

"She should be. Only we haven't heard from her of late. She was due to have returned this week only her colleague there, Vincento, floo'd to say she was working in the field."

"Tabitha'll be all right," replied James nonchalantly. "You know what she's like – she'll be immersed in the Auld Magic and time will mean nothing to her." Caelius said nothing – he trusted little these days, even others' behaviour when contrasted to their usual character. So much could be manipulated, so much controlled.

"I don't think Severus has heard much from her," continued James, turning to the letter again as if a hint to Caelius to be quiet and let him get on with it, "at least, he's not said.

"He isn't worried?" asked the older wizard.

"Hard to tell with old Snapeyboy, eh, James?" From down the staircase Sirius Black, rubbing his hair in an "I'm too old for this drinking into the night" game before leaping the sofa and sitting next to his friend, trying to wince silently at his aching muscles which were cursing him for his leap. "How is old Severus?" he added, grinning at Caelius. Lupin senior did not return it, partly for its carefree gaiety but, mostly, because he was exhausted.

"We were just discussing Miss Penwright," said James. "And that we haven't heard from her recently."

"You know old Tabs," replied Sirius, "she'll probably have forgotten to eat for three days like she did last time. You know, when your Harry found her wandering around the European Relations department talking to herself and clasping a casket of scrolls?"

"Oh, yes," recalled James, chuckling, "I remember now. I said that, didn't I Kay?" Caelius looked at him, jerking his head out of his own, deep thoughts as he realised James was talking to him. Caelius nodded.

"You did indeed," Caelius replied. He sometimes he wished that he had never put himself forward to be head of the Movement, had he known what his life would now be like, weighted with responsibility that he could not wholly share. How he wished Sirius had won the vote; that he would never have known what he knew, and what he had to do. Sirius should have been in his shoes now. He would never be so perky.

"Are you going?" asked James, relief showing in his voice.

"I'm afraid so. I need to visit Septimus this afternoon. He is missing his mother. And Freya too."

"More like a mother to him than his own, recently," said Sirius, but was nudged sharply by James, who hissed "shut up!"

"Cecilia can no more help her position than you or I can," replied Caelius, a glow of guilt in his stomach, for it had been Caelius who had been instrumental in her…relocation. "Her work is vital, for what is occurring in Europe must not happen here!" For the first time in Caelius's words were sharp and brusque, his tiredness shrugged away as the important things he underlined to his fellow wizards. Then it softened as his mind drifted to his beloved nephew.

"Nor can Remus, which is why you both need to be careful this afternoon." Caelius fixed Sirius with a grave look.

"Certainly." Sirius's tone had changed too, the gravity. "The witches we talk with today should be easily satisfied. Lily has synthesised the Auld Magic with that of the law at the present time – they must see reason. They can't refuse to capitulate."

Can't they? Caelius made a few steps back towards the fireplace. He must remember that he had to visit Tonks later that afternoon to collect the wayward Freya – Septimus had been almost pining for her, he missed her so. How she and his mother had come to disagree he had never fully understood. At least Nymphadora had offered her a home, and she seemed to be stepping out with a much more suitable boy at last, Darren Dursley.

No, that was untrue. Caelius did understand why. But that was in the past. Freya had blossomed into a lovely young lady and had chosen to remain close to the family.

"Will we see you this evening?" Caelius, in his gait to the fireplace, turned and shook his head.

"I've promised Caelius I'd be with him. You know how worried he gets when Remus is working." He turned sharply and looked at Sirius before stepping into the hearth, his voice commanding again. "I trust you will say nothing ill of Cecilia to Remus today."

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"Did you read the article in the Daily Prophet? Someone's been blabbing. Harry? The Government's announcement?" Hermione put down the wizard newspaper next to her on their ancient settee shrouded in modern throws to hide the age and leaned towards Harry. "Are you all right?"

"Hm? Eh?" Harry glanced up from his apparent engrossment in the green, patterned carpet and looked at his fiancée stupidly. He swallowed. "Something about…the Ministry?"

"I said, dopey, have you read the Daily Prophet?" She got to her feet and handed it to Harry, who glanced over the main stories on the front, his mind scrabbling to decide which one Hermione meant.

"I mean, yes, admitting non-wizards to Hedgewards. A good idea, we all agreed that. But just read the language…listen to how it's written…there's no way that'll convince anyone that educational inclusion is the right thing to do." Harry looked up from the Prophet. His mind had been thinking on the mysterious parcel and its contents, which he had absently returned to the pantry. Mysterious, yet, somehow familiar. And intriguing.

"It's…farcical! How anyone thought to publish it. And how anyone got the document to the Prophet! We must have a leak somewhere, and at such a damaging time too!"

He had shown Hermione what he had been sleeping on when he had awoken at the kitchen table that morning. She had glanced over it, "hm'd" at it before asking him to put it away so he could give her a hand with the post-party tidy-up.

"It could have been written better, certainly," Harry agreed. The Universal Link…Energy, Light, Magic…it seemed like he knew about them, and they were important, somehow. But why, and how, and who had sent them? All of these things currently eluded him.

"If I were a parent I'd worry about sending my child to Hedgewards this year…dangerous and disturbing…as if! Bad non-wizard influences! Education fatally disrupted…held back…delayed…would affect examination results…" Hermione began to pace, a rant forming in her mind as she raged at the author of the article. "I bet now poor Caelius is being drowned in complaint letters and Howlers have been, well, howling…" she finished awkwardly. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying?" Harry looked up, a well-trodden look of men down the ages, a mixture of innocence and "would I be doing anything else dear?" He looked back to the paper, unable to keep it up.

"But it does talk of universal education for all," Harry replied, "that Hedgewards is to become such a place. They will receive government money to fund it – " he stopped reading. "It's not like when you and I were at school, Hermione, wizards and witches today went to primary school with non-wizards. They know them, they've done their accepting."

"A lot of parents won't see it like that," concluded Hermione, frowning and folding her arms. "They will take on the bad things and apply them to their children."

"You would, you mean, if you were in their position," replied Harry, proving he knew Hermione far better than she thought he did. "I – "

"Well – "

But they were both interrupted when a loud hammering came to the front door. Harry got to his feet and made his way to it. Ron was standing on the doorstep when he opened it, still dressed in his clothes from the night before and wearing a goofy grin.

"How's Alice?" guessed Harry. Ron tittered a little, before stepping in.

"Wonderful," replied Ron, dreamily. "Well, she was, when I left her in bed just now. Wow, that girl is hot!"

"Spare us the details," moaned Hermione, who had followed Harry and who was now looking about at the untidiness and knowing that she would get far less out of Harry now that his friend was here. "Would you like a cuppa?"

"Love one," replied Ron, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Have you got any grub left? I'm starving!"

"Will a bacon buttie do you?" asked Hermione, generously as she found her wand and waved it, making a cup of tea appear in front of him, the lazy way.

"Hermione, you are heaven personified!" declared Ron, taking her hand and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Only when food is concerned," she added wryly. Harry pulled up a chair next to Ron.

"Could you do me one too, H?" asked Harry. "And I expect you haven't had anything either?"

Three bacon butties later and the conversation had turned to Remus and Sirius's forthcoming mission.

"How is old Remus?" asked Ron amiably, between bites of his sandwich. Harry thought back to the last time he had seen the younger Lupin brother. At Grimmauld Place with Sirius, that was when, about three weeks before. He had come from work and had been talking to Sirius and his father about Cecilia's work at Hedgewards and how it had taken her to the continent. Sirius had seemed quite put out by the whole affair and had derided Mrs Lupin severely.

"Well, there's their son to consider," said Ron. "A mother, going off and leaving a child?

And there's Freya…she wasn't the best behaved teenager in the world." That was saying something, thought Harry. He was going to continue but Hermione was looking at Ron hotly.

"Well, I suppose I should give up my Ministry of Magic job then, and be at home looking after the twins. That their mother shouldn't consider her career at all. And actually, I don't think she had that much choice in the matter, actually!" Both Ron and Harry stared at her, dumbstruck. "What?" she asked, annoyed. Both wizards tried to speak at once.

"Twins?" questioned Harry.

"You said "actually" twice, actually," said Ron.

"I'm serious," replied Hermione, then, catching Harry's glance added, "I'm just using twins to make a point, Harry," she added. "It's good money, in the Reciprocatoring. State funded and a pension – can't say that about many jobs these days." Harry found himself nodding vaguely. And then a thought struck him.

"Mrs Lupin!" he exclaimed, dropping his half-eaten bacon sandwich onto his plate and scraping back his wooden carver chair on the terracotta tiles of the kitchen floor. Making his way over to the pantry Harry flung open the door and fumbled for the top shelf, his hand flailing until the stack of papers he had been sent was under his palm. Quickly he extracted them and flung them onto the kitchen table.

"Looks like a book that's been eaten by Sirius in his dog form," commented Ron.

"Looks like some sort of book, some code, to me," replied Hermione. "What about it?"

"I think so to, Hermione," agreed Harry, gesturing to the words on the paper he had uppermost, "but I can't really understand them, they're just fragments. But…the odd word, here and there…it takes me back to…it looks all the world like…"

"What?" asked Hermione and Ron together.

"Do you remember when Mrs Lupin turned up one day out of the blue, and next minute was writing a bestseller with me as the title character in it, that she gave away?"

"Oh yes, we've never heard the end of that one," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it reminds me of that book." concluded Harry, who realised what he had just said didn't sound half so dramatic as how it had sounded in his mind. "That's what it looked like at five o'clock this morning," he added in justification.

"So?" asked Hermione. "What would anyone want to send you a half-mangled copy of that old thing for? People only read it because she gave it away free. Most people feel sorry for her now." Harry put down one of the pages and pushed it to one side.

"You're right," he admitted, "it does seem a little ludicrous." He looked at Ron. "Probably Fred or George trying a birthday prank."

"And what does that have to do with me?" asked Ron, defensively. Hermione put down her tea cup.

"Come on, both of you. You can help tidy up the place with me. Starting right now." She took the pages from in front of Harry and, opening the pantry cupboard, pressed the foot-lever of the pedal bin and threw them inside.