Chapter 10 — Home, Part II

"Good to see you, Harry," Candide said as she came out of the hearth, almost the first guest. Hermione eyed her with interest as Candide then greeted Snape in what might have been a restrained manner. She handed Harry the triple layer collection of Honeydukes chocolates with a red ribbon around it. "I assumed you were probably missing these."

Harry eagerly accepted the box. "Yes, thank you. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, something small . . . I can't stay long."

Harry glanced at his guardian, realizing that he didn't know what the status was in this department, but Snape's neutral expression gave nothing away and Harry led his guest to the drinks table in the main hall.

People began arriving in earnest after that and the hall filled with the pleasant rumble of conversation. Harry welcomed Vineet in from the front door. "You could have used our hearth," Harry pointed out.

"I did attempt this. I was redirected to a very nice house up the street," Vineet explained.

"Probably the Peterson's," Harry said, as he hung Vineet's cloak up on top of three others on the overloaded hooks. "Elizabeth, the daughter, is here. Where's Nandi tonight?"

"Visiting with our mothers," Vineet replied evenly.

It bothered Harry that he couldn't read anything into that, positive or negative. "In India . . . didn't she just visit last month?"

"If her mother were not willing to pay for these tickets, to make this trip she would not be able." As they entered the noisier main hall, Vineet had to bend closer to say, "I am thinking the weather may have something to do with these repeated visits."

"This feels like typical March weather," Harry pointed out, thinking it wasn't too bad, really.

"Precisely," Vineet intoned.

Fred and Ron pulled Harry away then, through the many chatting clusters, undeterred by Harry's attempt at doing introductions. "We just got it working, you have to come," Fred insisted. "George is with Dad, just for this, rather than here."

Harry was pressed down into a chair before the desk in the drawing room. Upon it sat something similar to a large crystal ball, although a badly scratched one.

"Look inside it, then," Fred insisted, pushing Harry forward so his nose left yet another mark on the old glass. Harry squinted at something that seemed to be moving inside of the globe. The shape came into focus and Harry sat straight when he recognized Mr. Weasley. Fred leaned over Harry and said, "He wanted to welcome you home. Said he was sorry he was in a meeting when you stopped in today."

Harry hadn't actually gone to look for his department head. After his stop in the Minister's office, he had forgotten. "Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked the exceptionally large-nosed vision of his friends' father.

"Harry!" a very tinny voice said. "Good to, uh, see you my boy!" Mr. Weasley appeared to be getting as good a picture as Harry was, given his close squinting. "Everything all right, then?"

"Yes, sir," Harry assured him, just as he had assured every guest that evening as they had arrived. This had inevitably been followed by assertions that he was better off without Belinda.

Mr. Weasley was saying, "Well, that's just splendid, Harry, my boy. Do stop in as soon as you can at the Burrow. Molly'd love to see you and it is just too quiet. We've even let the gnomes move into the broom shed, just to get a little noise."

"I will, Mr. Weasley," Harry promised.

Mr. Weasley began to reply but the crystal sphere went blue and then clear, flickered in and out a few times with bright streaks, and then went clear for good.

"Aye," Fred said in a very tired tone. "Well, you were finished, right?"

"Yes. That is slick. Did you invent that?" Harry asked while Fred carefully wrapped the crystal ball in black velvet and tenderly lowered it into a battered pink Muggle bowling ball bag.

"Yep, but it only works about a quarter of the time. Still working out the glitches and also getting the charms to stick long-term, and not cancel each other out . . ." He sounded worn down by the notion.

Ron said, "It's ruddy brilliant and it'd be a real seller if you could get it working better."

Fred tilted his head from side to side. He was wearing a violent purple smoking jacket with tails this evening which made him look like a showman. "Yeah, but I'm blasted tired of working on it. I think I'll put it aside for a bit."

"That put-aside cupboard of yours must be getting rather full," Ron criticized.

"Hey," Fred countered as he hefted the bowling bag. "Some of our best new ideas come out of that cupboard—usually on their own," he added in tone of confession. To Harry he said, "Dad really does want you over for dinner."

Ron added, "Yeah, he's been making us right crazy with asking us if we've a new owl from you and how we thought you might be doing. I kept telling him it wasn't worse than most stuff that usually happens to you."

"No, it wasn't," Harry agreed, wanting dearly to put it behind him and return to normalcy. Maybe after this party everyone would return to treating him as they had before, rather than with the extra curiosity and side whispers he had been noticing early in the evening.

Harry left them packing up and returned to the drinks table only to discover that he had forgotten where he had put his cup. He retraced his steps around the room with some dismay. "Looking for this?" Aaron asked, grabbing up the burl wood Finnish cup tethered to Harry's neck.

"Oh yeah, thanks," Harry said. "No wonder I couldn't find it." He went back to the punch bowl and filled his small cup, drank it down, and filled it again before joining Aaron and his date as they discussed the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match.

Over near the door to the quieter library, Kerry Ann abandoned Vineet to intercept Fred Weasley, the only interesting male in the room who was reputed to be unattached. Vineet watched the house-elf creep in to hand a steaming mug, smelling tantalizingly of chocolate, to Hermione. Using this interruption as an opening, he followed the elf in.

Hermione was just closing her eyes with her nose over the mug. "No one makes a hot cocoa like Winky," she reverently stated.

Vineet put his hands behind his back as a way of resisting a bout of chocolate jealousy. "Harmony," he intoned with a small bow of his head.

"Hi," Hermione said, gesturing with her mug. "Lots of interesting books." She sounded as though she wished to excuse herself for hiding away from the party, but she couldn't help continuing to peruse the shelves.

Vineet stepped over and looked the shelf up and down. "The collection is incomplete, I think."

"Is it?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Flight or Fright, should be here beside Goldwing's Duel or Die," Vineet pointed out.

"Oh," Hermione uttered. "I have to admit . . . I'm not as well read in offensive magic, more defensive . . . as well as general knowledge." She lowered her mug to the small desk, careful to set it on the blotter. "Like these old Wizard Encyclopedia Albion Annuals. I don't remember these here before." She pulled one of the tall thin books off the bottom shelf and flipped it open. "Nineteen Hundred and Seventy Five, that was ages ago. 'Harvey Meyers becomes the first assistant to the Minister in five years to survive more than six months in his position before he mysteriously disappears . . .' Bad times, I guess." She put the book back away, as though that long ago was not worth dwelling on. "It's Vineet, right?"

"Few call me that, actually," Vineet said, running his brown finger along a high shelf. "Usually I am called by Vishnu."

"Oh, that's a nice name," Hermione said. "Why does Harry call you Vineet?"

"It is officially my name. I was mistaken in introducing myself in this way to him, perhaps."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Is the other your dachnam or something?"

Vineet ceased his shelf browsing. "Yes. You know of such things?"

Hermione blushed lightly and shrugged. "I've . . . done a bit of reading."

Vineet eyed the abandoned mug on the blotter and bit his lip before saying, "Harmony, you have been Harry's friend for a long time, I think."

Hermione replied, "A very long time, and my name isn't Harmony."

The evening wound on and the party was beginning to thin out. A glance at the clock showed it to only be 10:00, which meant that many people had responsibilities the next day. Harry wandered into the dining room. Snape sat at the table, apparently sharing a pot of tea with Hermione who stood beside the hearth. Harry, his feet unaccustomed to so many hours standing on a hard stone floor, sat heavily across from his guardian.

"How is the party?" Snape asked.

"'S good," Harry replied. "People are going home early, though."

"Fortunately," Snape said, the flicker of the hearth making his expression unclear. "As it may be getting to be that time."

"You think?" Harry asked in disappointment.

Snape sat back and turned his teacup in his long hands. "I expected that you would wish to impress Rodgers upon your return . . ."

"Yeah," Harry breathed. "I do wish."

Aaron came in then, arm around his date. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bro. Good to see you again, Professor." They were gone moments later. Even less sound came from the main hall after that.

"I have a question," Harry asked Snape, thinking of Aaron's arm comfortably around his date's waist. "If you had to arrange a marriage for me . . ."

"If I what?" Snape interrupted. "How much of that punch have you consumed?"

Harry stared into his cup, still tethered to his neck. "I lost track."

Snape appeared highly disapproving of this. He sighed and said, "Better mix you a dose of neutralizer before you go to sleep."

"Thanks," Harry uttered gratefully; he really did need to be at his best.

"Do not expect it next time," Snape growled lightly. "But . . . you were in the middle of some bizarre question . . ."

Harry regrouped his thoughts. "Yeah. So if you HAD to arrange a marriage, who would you pick?"

"For you?" Snape confirmed sharply.

"Yeah," Harry persisted.

Snape fell thoughtful a few seconds before replying. "I expect I would choose Ms. Weasley."

"What?" Harry uttered in surprise.

Hermione giggled and said, "That would go over well all around."

"Why her?" Harry asked.

Snape crossed his arms. "Why not? Seems to tolerate you well enough."

"Well, she's like a sister, for one thing," Harry countered.

"I also think she'd be a good match," Hermione offered.

"Don't you start too," Harry complained before he glanced around, "Did Ron go?"

"No, I think he's still here," Hermione replied. "Ginny and he are very different, you know."

"No, they aren't," Harry argued, sounding difficult.

Snape sipped his drink and retorted, "You did ask." Eyes sharp he said, "Perhaps you were hoping for a different answer?"

Harry looked away. Maybe he had been.

After the few remaining guests had gone, Harry yawned and rose to go to his room. "Are you going back to Hogwarts tonight?" he asked.

"Others are covering until morning," Snape replied. "I will go then."

Harry smiled broadly at this news, making Snape glance away from his bright elation. "I'll see you in the morning, then," Harry said.

Snape stood as well. "I'll mix you a bit of potion . . ."

Harry rubbed his forehead where a mild headache bit at him. "Thanks."

Harry was sitting on his bed reading a bit more for training the next day when Snape entered, carrying a mug half-full of thick fizzing pink liquid. As he accepted the mug, Harry said, "Maybe I should have held off on the party. I barely skimmed tomorrow's readings."

"Rodgers cannot kick you out," Snape stated.

"And you would know this, how?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Snape's lips curled. "I work closely with a member of the Wizengamot, remember?"

Again, Harry found himself not caring that such influence had been brought to bear on his life. "Tell her thanks; will you?"

"Certainly," Snape intoned. "And I think sleep will serve you better than reading more at this point."

Harry closed the book on advanced distraction techniques and set it on the nightstand. When Snape moved toward the door, Harry said, "Thanks for everything."

"Thanks are unnecessary, Harry," Snape stated soberly.

Harry considered Snape as he stood in the doorway, worn robes lit both by the chandelier behind him and by Harry's beside lamp. He had changed in Harry's absence; he had mellowed and his hard edges were no longer sharp enough to cut. Harry too had changed, but he hadn't yet figured out how, exactly. All he knew was that they had drifted apart and he couldn't see how to pull them back in sync.

"Should you need anything, Harry . . ." Snape intoned with a dip of his head.

It was queer for Snape to be so outwardly caring yet feel more the stranger for it. "Sure," Harry said.

After a long look Snape departed and a minute later the chandelier went dim.

- 888 -

The next day Rodgers treated Harry as brusquely as he had before Harry left and seemed resigned to his resuming Auror training. To Harry's relief, he didn't expect him to produce spells that Harry had missed, nor did he select him more than average to discuss the readings and Harry managed all right on that part, to his relief. His mind felt clear and uncluttered, and remembering what he had read the day before was unexpectedly easy.

The day passed quickly, bringing with it the wonderful feeling of a life back in order, and soon they were packing up their things to head home. Mr. Weasley appeared while Harry was chatting with Tonks, who had given him a very welcome hug upon his approach to her desk. It was Mr. Weasley's slap on the back that really reminded Harry how little physical contact he had had during his time away.

"Everything all set, my boy?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, unable to avoid dropping his eyes as he replied.

"Good to have you back. Things sure are busy around here . . . we could use the extra help." With that and a wink he was gone.

"Don't listen to that," Tonks breathed when Mr. Weasley was out of range.

Harry merely snickered, too happy to be back in these surroundings to care if he were being teased and by whom, happy enough to be near Tonks that he found himself caring much less about Belinda's breaking up with him.

Folded up on the desk was the Daily Prophet. Tonks scooped it up and opened to an inside page. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she asked, "The Regionals are coming up for London. Think I should enter?"

Harry stared at her dully. "Regionals?"

"Gosh, you don't know? Harry, you're the judge, aren't you?" She quickly folded the paper and said, "Oh, only for the championship . . ."

Harry grabbed the paper away from her and read the article.

Free Field Filling Fast

The 1st Annual Demise of Voldemort Dueling Competition enters its first phase when the London Regional commences this Saturday at the Ministry of Magic Atrium. The Minister herself will introduce this inaugural competition. It is expected that the Championship judge, Harry Potter will make an appearance, as he has recently returned from a mysterious and previously unannounced retreat in the Far North. The finals will also be held in the Ministry Atrium on May 10th. Tickets are available at the Leaky Cauldron and all Gringott's locations, or by owl to our offices here at The Daily Prophet.

"Wow," Harry uttered. "Bones really is putting together a dueling competition."

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" Tonks asked as she took the paper back.

"Severus' actually . . . he suggested it as a joke."

"It's brilliant," she said. "Think I should enter?"

"Why not?" Harry asked.

She twisted her mouth and said, "I'm not really a dueler."

"Yeah, but you're an Auror, doesn't that already give you an advantage?"

She looked up at him with a grin. "I'm pretty sure some others around here are going to be in that regional. You and me have a history, does that give me an advantage?"

"Uh . . ." Harry began, having not thought ahead to having to judge his friends, should they make it to the finals. "I would try to make it not," he insisted.

"You're no fun," she teased.

"It has to be fair," Harry asserted, unable to imagine a tournament that wasn't.

- 888 -

That Saturday, Harry, and a surprisingly large number of others, made their way to the Ministry Atrium. Harry emerged from a hearth at the far end from where a dueling platform had been set up and had to weave through the audience filling the hall to get closer. Minister Bones stood off to the side, near the golden gate; she was reading a parchment and put it away then as though ready to start. Right beside the platform, the crowd was packed tightly and Harry had to push his way through. He was hurrying because he expected the Minister would be looking for him before she started.

"Aye thare," a middle aged witch in old maroon robes complained when Harry slid in front of her.

"'Scuse me," Harry said. The witch's eyes widened from annoyed to meek when he glanced back.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones greeted him offhandedly when he finally made it to her side. Belinda already stood at Bones' side. She glanced away, down at the papers she held, and then off over the crowd. The Minister spent undo time giving detailed instructions to another member of her staff regarding registration requirements, so Harry had far too much time to glance repeatedly at Belinda and attempt, unsuccessfully, to imagine her and Percy out on a date.

Their long, awkward moment ended when Bones stepped up onto the wooden platform and announced the opening of the First Annual Demise of Voldemort Dueling Tournament. As she spoke, a broad-shouldered figure gimped up beside Harry.

"Potter," Moody muttered in a kind of greeting.

"Sir, are you competing?"

Moody snorted. "I'm judgin'"

The gathered spectators began clapping and Moody gave Harry a shove toward the Minister. Harry wondered, as he put his grimy trainer up on the polished wooden platform, if he shouldn't have worn a bit nicer robes.

"Mr. Potter is deeply disappointed that he cannot compete, but that means the field is wide open for the rest of you. And . . ." With a flourish she pulled out a stack of note cards and waved them. "There are rather a large number of you wishing to claim the title of Britain's best dueler. So we will have a long show for you today while we eliminate all but the toughest, fastest, and smartest of you all."

She invited the competitors onto the platform and handed the introductions over to Moody. Harry tried to depart the platform with the Minister, but Moody clamped a hand on his shoulder and held him fast. Harry had to turn his head hard to see the whole line which ran the gamut from a stooped old man who must be well over a hundred and twenty, to a housewitch, still in her flowered apron, to a pigtailed girl who looked as though she should be just starting at Hogwarts next year. Harry glanced back again when he thought he recognized his trainer, and indeed Rodgers stood on the very end of the line beside one of the Weasley twins.

Moody went over the rules in a voice that sounded more threatening than informative. He finally released Harry when he selected two competitors for the first round. As he passed them, Harry gave Rodgers and the Weasley twin a wave. He wondered where the other twin was.

Harry spotted Mr. Weasley in the crowd and made his way over beside him. "Fred or George?" Harry asked.

"Fred." Mr. Weasley replied and then leaned closer to whisper, "George is registered in the Wales/Midlands Regional. Used our cousins' address to avoid one of them getting eliminated so early."

The crowd howled in delight as the first pair—the little girl and the old man—simultaneously wrapped each other up in toffee. Moody waved the sticky sweet away and growled at them to start anew and warned that if they did it again, they were both disqualified.

As the competitors' numbers were whittled down, few showed any real dueling ability and ones that did went through untouched until the final round where Fred and Rodgers faced each other. Real spells banged forth then rather than exaggerated pranks. The crowd made appreciative noises —and backed up a few steps—after Rodgers' dome block sent Fred's ice curse shattering to the floor and off the edge of the platform. In the end though, Fred could not hold out against someone who spent hours everyday drilling. Time was about to be called for a draw when Rodgers demonstrated that he had been holding back all along. He sent a polymorphic chain binding at Fred who didn't recognize it and attempted a Charmer Counter probably because the chain did seem to snake a bit as it flew out of Rodgers' wand.

Rodgers didn't leave Fred in a helpless heap for long. Rather than wait for Moody to do the cancellation, as had happened after most of the rounds, Rodgers freed Fred and helped him to his feet.

The crowd cheered, most likely for the winner being determined rather than any acts of sportsmanship. Moody handed Rodgers a half-size brass wand on a chain with a tag attached upon which Moody used a spell to inscribe Reginald Whitherspoon Rodgers below the tournament name. Rodgers accepted the award with more delight than Harry would have expected from him. The crowd clapped again and the Minister returned, calling Harry back up just long enough to remind everyone to return for the Finals.

"Congratulations, sir," Harry said to his trainer, and then turned quickly to say, "Good try, Fred," to his friend, who merely mumbled something unintelligible in reply.

When Fred had joined Mr. Weasley, Rodgers, apparently still captivated by victory, gave Harry a quirked smile and assured him, "Easy win. Hope the Finals present more of a challenge." He said this while holding the brass wand up by the chain and letting it swing back and forth.

Harry hurried home from the competition to see if his guardian had arrived yet. He had not, but Winky had put out chocolate biscuits and hot cocoa and the scent greeted Harry upon his arrival. Harry was looking forward to the next day's lunch at the Evans', idle thoughts of which lifted him lightly above the troubles of the last few months.

Halfway through the plate of irresistible treats, Harry finished reading the day's Prophet and sorting the post. The Floo flaring preceded Snape into the room.

"Hey, Severus," Harry greeted him. "I wasn't sure McGonagall was going to let you off two weekends in a row."

Snape put down the small trunk he carried and helped himself to a biscuit. "She was remarkably amenable. I think she may believe you to be in need of closer watching."

"That's not true," Harry complained. "Everything's fine now."

Snape ceased nibbling and said, "I did not attempt to dissuade her assumptions, I must confess." He picked up the post and tapped the nearly empty biscuit plate with the edges of the letters. "I see Winky is working to fatten you up."

"Is she?" Harry said in surprise. He tugged at his exceptionally baggy shirt. "I suppose that is easier than buying new clothes."

"They fed you there in Finland?" Snape asked snidely from the doorway.

"Yes, rather a lot. You should try five hours of Nordic skiing in one direction and five hours back the next day."

The two of them had a quiet dinner with Harry absorbed in his far-behind readings, but asking Snape about anything of interest in the text. "So, it says here a repelling barrier rarely holds around a cursed object. But it doesn't say why."

Snape put down the two chunks of bread he had just torn in half. "I don't believe a good theory exists to explain that. Magical theory is a spotty affair, you do realize."

"Speaking of theory, I didn't tell you that I tested a hover spell on the airplane."

"Did you? And the result?"

"Worked like a charm."

"Did it?"

Snape sat thoughtfully for a while until Harry said, "You missed the first Regional today at the Ministry. Rodgers won it." When Snape responded only with a raised brow, Harry added, "Only Fred provided any real competition for him and not really that much, so he won easily."

"Did he?" Snape confirmed in a tone that indicated he had changed the topic of his deep thinking.

"I think Fred was lucky Rodgers was in a good mood," Harry opined.

The logs in the hearth shifted, throwing sparks into the room. "And the other twin?" Snape asked.

"Registered for a different Regional."

"Still flaunting the rules," Snape muttered.

"Does it really matter if it's not your rules they're flaunting?" Harry teased.

"They flaunt Ministry rules all of the time in that little shop of theirs. Those would be your rules now," Snape pointed out in a deceptively mild tone.

Harry frowned and tried to pretend to be reading, but the book was not holding his attention. A little peevishly, he said, "You know, they won't let me do anything at the Ministry, so I don't think of them as my rules yet."

"And when they are truly yours?" Snape continued to probe, which Harry wished he wouldn't.

Harry put his nose closer to his book. "I'll figure it out then."

A minute later Snape said, "Some believe in allowing a little cheating. I find it leads to an uncontrolled atmosphere of poor behavior."

"I'm reading about curse limitations here," Harry pointed out.

Dryly, Snape said, "Rather slowly. You have been on the same page for ten minutes."

Harry couldn't deny that. "Want to play some chess?" he asked brightly, prepared to close his book.

"Your readings . . ." Snape commanded, tapping Harry's book with one long finger.

"All right . . ." Harry breathed and redoubled his efforts at taking in the words before him.

- 888 -

Polly Evans' small house, as usual, was overflowing with the scent of cooking and home when they arrived. The sight of the children gave Harry a painful twinge that he might have been isolated forever from all of this. Patricia's husband stood to shake hands and Pamela gave Harry a hug. Basel, Patricia's son, toddled up and handed Harry a toy rocking horse with almost grave seriousness.

"Thank you," Harry told the boy as he shook off his cloak. He then took a chair near where he and his sister played. Snape sat on the end of the couch and considered the room with a hooded gaze. Conversation resumed and Harry noticed that Snape was drawing into himself.

Feeling he needed to make up for Snape's lack of sociability, Harry launched into a long description of his trip to Finland. "So, I can ski rather well now and it feels downright warm here," Harry concluded, holding back a frown at Snape's continued reticence. It was almost as though Harry's story had sent his guardian farther away.

Briar handed Harry a toy plastic goat during the silence, so Harry shifted to sit on the floor to play farm with the children, occasionally hiding toys or holding them out of reach in the hopes of inspiring some magic in the children to get them back, but he had no luck with this and the children were deciding he wasn't a very good playmate.

Greg departed to run to the store for something and Pamela immediately moved to plunk down beside Snape. "How are things in the magical world? Can I see a spell?"

Even though she had asked this of his guardian, Harry took out his wand and said. "I learned this one this week. Repulsum Captum," he uttered while drawing a circle in the air around a toy sitting on the table. "Try to pick it up," Harry said.

Pamela gave it a try, but when her hand got close, the toy house moved away in a little burst as though magnetically repelled. She tried again, with a quicker motion and the house slid off the far side of the table onto the floor.

"Oops. Usually we use it on large, heavy things," Harry explained.

Snape said, "I think that you have been doing so for practice because larger objects are harder to charm. Small objects one does not want stolen are the most common use for that spell."

"Maybe," Harry said. "It would be like our trainer to make learning something as hard as possible."

"Aw," Pamela sang in false sympathy and Harry was surprised to find Snape smiling lightly in the wake of it. She slapped Snape on the arm. "Let's see one from you now."

After a moment's thought, Snape tapped Briar on the head with an Obfuscation Charm.

"She's melting? Where'd she go or did you make her invisible?" Pamela asked. "Oh wait, I still see her . . . no I don't."

"This spell does not impart complete invisibility," Snape explained, sounding as ever the teacher. "If one knows the person is present and concentrates, they can see the person just fine." Pamela called for Briar to come over to her and had to use her hands a lot to locate the girl to pick her up.

"That's a eerie one." She stood up and carried the invisible girl to the kitchen. "Hey Patty, take a look."

"Uh, oh," Harry uttered.

Patricia stepped to the doorway and with some surprise, accepted the invisible, giggling burden. "Who did that to you?" she asked.

Pamela said, "I'm not telling."

Patricia seemed a bit alarmed, even though Briar, from her conversation and giggles, was not. Harry stood and cancelled the charm. Briar re-melted into clear view and clapped her hands. "I hope neither of you turns magical," Patricia said to the girl. "It's hard enough keeping track of you when you aren't." She set Briar on the floor, where she quickly returned to her playing.

Pamela returned to her seat and said wistfully, "We missed a lot of fun growing up, I see." To Snape she said, "So, how is teaching going?"

"Same as always. The students are unruly, uninspired, and unrepentant about doing poor work on their assignments."

In a mock serious tone Pamela said, "But you keep trying anyway."

"Yes," Snape admitted quietly, and Harry thought he was unsettled by the unaccustomed teasing.

Lunch was being carried to the dining room and Harry jumped up to help. Minutes later they settled into eat and Harry enjoyed two heaping plates full of lasagna while listening to Pamela untiringly keep a conversation going with Snape. For once, Snape was putting some effort into his side of things, despite the lack of topics in common between them that were safe within earshot of Greg.

It wasn't until Harry caught sight of Polly's furrowed brow as she listened in on this conversation from the far end of the table, that Harry thought anything of it. He watched more closely then as Snape was saying, "The Board that oversees our school, for example, was influenced too easily in the past by the interests of a few, but now with these people gone, it is in a state of lethargy and the headmistress and I have been working out ways of injecting our own agenda into their discussions in the hopes of moving some things along."

Harry expected this dry political topic to fall flat, but Pamela leaned in slightly on her elbow and said, "When it was manipulated before, what purpose did they put it to?"

Snape paused, presumably to formulate a Muggle-safe response. Harry let the bite on his fork go cold as he glanced between the two of them and attempted to overcome the sense that they were getting along startlingly better than they had been just a half hour ago. At Harry's welcome-home party Candide had been distracted and hadn't stayed long at all and had only cursorily interacted with Snape. After listening to Snape and Pamela's continuing friendly conversation, including Snape's highly unexpected outgoing contribution, Harry found himself sending a small helpless shrug at Polly, who he hoped wasn't as unhappy as she looked.

By mid-afternoon, when Patricia began bundling her children in layers of outerwear, Polly seemed resigned, although the conversation had not gone beyond general amiability, but for Snape, that was odd enough. Harry found himself shaking the notion that something was possibly budding between his guardian and his cousin. Pamela was just curious about magic, Harry argued to himself regarding her extra attention to Snape.

But when they arrived back in their own hall, Harry heard himself say to his adopted father, "You were having a good time."

Snape turned sharply, his boot scraping on the stone floor. "What of it?" he asked, clearly defensive in an instant, which spoke volumes.

Harry, careful not to appear to backpedal, said casually, "Well, last visit you were baiting Pamela terribly, not exactly cruel, but pretty close."

Snape hesitated as he formulated a response. "I wasn't in the mood to be bothered," he finally said and headed for the stairs.

"Bothered with what?" Harry asked, pursuing him.

Snape turned at the bottom of the stairs and said, "Muggle females. Overly curious ones who are inspired by what they see as a challenge."

Harry took this in and instead of arguing on the merits said, "You use that Legilimency a little too much."

"Don't you?" Snape countered.

"No."

"Really? I find it almost always useful." His tone turned against Harry then. "I cannot imagine working in the Ministry without knowing what was going on around me. Nothing is on the surface there."

"It is with Mr. Weasley," Harry argued.

"Well, consider yourself fortunate to have him, then. Honestly, you have never used that skill at the Ministry?"

Harry gave in trying to steer the conversation and thought back. "Once, accidentally with Minister Bones."

Snape seemed intrigued. "Learn anything useful?"

"That she likes me well enough but is mostly very happy I'm not opposed to her."

"Very useful information," Snape pointed out.

"I suppose. It's not fair to people to do that all the time though. You aren't at risk anymore, Severus," Harry argued to Snape's back, because he was now heading up the stairs.

At the midway point Snape turned and said over his shoulder, "Survival habits can be very hard to break."

By the time Snape reached the balcony, Harry remembered the original topic. "But what about Pamela? Polly didn't seem exactly pleased."

Snape leaned over the railing to say, "There is nothing with Pamela except an unexpected possibility and unlike you, who must supposition, I know Mrs. Evans is displeased." He leaned away and then back again to add, "And I know Pamela would be pleased to have displeased her so." Then he was gone.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered under his breath.

Harry went to his own room and took out his nicest parchment to send a thank you letter to Per and Siri. His gratitude flowed easier now and he was glad he had waited to write the letter. He also wrapped a box of Weasley Wizard Wheezes Fruit Metamorphos Sweets in brown paper for Hedwig to take as a present, but when he collected his owl out of her cage she didn't hold out her claw for the package and nipped him instead.

"Hey," Harry chastised her. "This is hardly the first time you'll have made this trip," he pointed out to her. "And this will probably be the last time." Her head bobbed a few times but she still didn't hold out her claw. Harry pondered this unusual behavior. "Do you want me to address the letter to Siri?" Harry asked. When Hedwig tilted her head as though interested, Harry put the letter in a new envelope with a different address. Hedwig took the delivery this time without hesitation.

After finishing his post and faced with the prospect of poorly defined worry, Harry went to the door of the drawing room and asked, "So is anything up with Pamela?"

Snape's shoulders fell in annoyance. "Nothing at the moment. Probably nothing ever. What is this leap to conclusions about?"

Harry stepped in and would have dropped into the chair before the desk, except it held a pile of large parchments. "I just don't want you to upset Polly, is all."

Snape lowered his quill and straightened up from the document he was working on, although his hair still hung before his face. "I do not intend to put your extended family at risk of wishing you had never entered their lives. Besides, blood relatives cannot be lost so easily." He bent forward again and muttered, "Believe me, I know."

- 888 -

Tuesday's training still hadn't started and it was already a quarter to nine. Aaron and Kerry Ann sat joking and exchanging prank spells while Harry stared off into the distance, wondering again if Belinda had really meant everything she had said when Harry had stopped in to see her after his return, or if some of it was just anger speaking.

"Someone should check, perhaps, what is going on," Vineet suggested without looking up from the book he held open before him.

"I nominate Harry," Kerry Ann chimed in.

More than willing to be distracted from his thoughts, Harry shrugged and went down the corridor to the office. It was empty, as was the file room. Growing more curious, Harry wandered down to the department head's office. Mr. Weasley was sitting with his feet up on his small desk with a report open before him. He quickly sat up normally when Harry greeted him. "Harry, my boy, what can I do for you?"

"Do you know where everyone is? Rodgers and Tonks aren't around, nor is Shacklebolt or any of the senior apprentices."

"Hm," Mr. Weasley huffed, put the report down and passed Harry in the doorway.

Harry moved to follow but jerked his head back to glance at the report which was entitled, Magical Threats Post-Voldemort. To his displeasure he didn't have enough time to read even a sentence of it, since Mr. Weasley had turned around to see if he were following. They reached the office and Mr. Weasley was just confirming for himself that the whole staff were absent when Tonks came flying down the corridor from the lifts.

She looked frantic and her spiked hair drooped raggedly. She held out a parchment for Mr. Weasley, who read it with his brow lowered. Harry leaned over a little to try to see. The title line read, Muggle Liaison Office followup request to telephone call of 8:27 a.m. "Why the panic?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Tonks said, "Reggie kept that office number in his wallet, and he hasn't come in yet this morning, and there's no word from him."

"Something happened to Mr. Rodgers?" Harry asked.

Tonks replied, "We don't know, but I want to check. The police found someone in the Docklands with, as it says on the note: a strange wooden rod in his cloak pocket, no apparent identification in his wallet but a note saying to call that number in case of emergency. And its the number for the Muggle Liaison desk here at the Ministry." To Mr. Weasley she said, "Note says whoever it was 'as been taken to the Royal. I can nip over and double-check in just minutes."

Mr. Weasley handed the note back. "Tone down the hair and take someone with you."

Harry tried to appear available. Tonks looked through him as she said, "Fetch Kerry Ann; will you?"

"Sure," Harry said, feeling let down as well as worried about their trainer, even as little as he liked the man personally.

Kerry Ann bounced to her feet when Harry explained the little he knew. From the doorway, Tonks said. "Harry, you too. The both of you," she looked at Vineet and Aaron, "Go man the office with Mr. Weasley, just in case."

Aaron, who moments before had been jesting, immediately fell serious and obeyed.

Tonks said, "I picked you two to come along because I know you have Muggle clothes with you. Change and let's go."

The information desk at the Royal London Hospital was not cooperative in helping them locate one Fred Bloggs. The overly made-up woman insisted that they speak with the police if they had information. Tonks was about to launch into something sharp, when Harry tugged on her sleeve. She allowed Harry to pull her aside, where he said, "I know whom to ask."

She gave him a coy look and said, "Your Legilimency is getting as good as Severus'. Lead the way."

Harry went to the directory to find the right department and they rode up in the lift in their own silences. The nurses at the station outside the lift were more than willing to give them a room number.

As soon as Tonks opened the door, after receiving no answer to her knock, she breathed, "Oh, Reggie."

In the first bed the Auror trainer was lying unconscious with a pale sheen to his skin and unusually deep-set eyes. His roommate was intently watching a loud television and didn't even look over at their entrance.

Tonks pulled the curtain to separate the beds and leaned over Rodgers. "Reggie," she prompted, shaking him lightly. He didn't look capable of coming around, but his eyes cracked open and zeroed in on Tonks. "Still with us?" Tonks prodded. At Rodgers' weak nod, she straightened and said to Kerry Ann, "Go over to Mungo's and arrange for an ambulance transfer." Kerry Ann appeared a little doubtful, but headed out. Tonks said to Harry, "Stay with him. I'll be back as soon as I can." She started away but then turned and whispered, "Consider yourself on guard."

Harry pulled over a chair and sat beside the bed. He tossed his cloak over his shoulder and held his wand before him under it, ready for use. Rodgers' gaze found its slightly unfocussed way over to Harry. "What happened?" Harry asked.

Rodgers raised his hand to rub his eyes. A thin tube was taped to the back of his hand. Harry traced it up to a plastic sack of liquid above the headboard. "I'm not sure," his trainer admitted. He narrowed his eyes as though lost in memory and said, "I was investigating a call about some silent fireworks in the abandoned Titan warehouse. I heard some strange noises and when I stepped inside a Blasting Curse hit me. I didn't even see anything move. I got a block up for the second one but it was the hardest one I've ever had to counter. And then another one came . . . and another. I couldn't see a target and decided to beat a retreat." He hesitated then, eyes unfocused as though he were back at the scene he described. "I got outside behind a hunk of equipment and tried to Disapparate. I don't remember anything after that."

Rodgers stared at the ceiling, his sunken eyes pink. Harry unexpectedly found himself feeling sorry for the man.

Tonks returned then, with Mr. Weasley in tow. Harry had started to pull his wand around, but hadn't revealed it. He put it back away. Mr. Weasley leaned over the other aluminum rail on the bed. "All right there, Reginald? Who got the best of you?" he asked, sounding his most caring self.

Rodgers hmfed wryly. "I didn't see who hit me. And I couldn't seem to hit anyone back, even though I threw some serious spells in the direction of the attacks."

"Not just cloaked?" Tonks chimed in.

"They didn't move," Rodgers insisted in annoyance. "I can hit someone in a cloak who isn't moving between casts."

Mr. Weasley patted Rodgers shoulder. "Well, we'll get you to St. Mungo's and get a fuller report there."

Harry followed the two of them as they arranged to fill in many crinkly thin white sheets of Muggle paperwork. Finally, they wheeled Rodgers to the garage where an antique, but well-kept ambulance, waited. It had long, gleaming chrome horns on the roof and resembled a large old London cab except that it was white. The orderlies loaded the patient and then walked around it, pointing at the whitewalls and brass oil headlamps in astonishment.

Mr. Weasley rode inside, leaving Tonks and Harry behind. They walked around the garage until they were out of sight and Disapparated back to the Ministry. Tonks didn't speak, just went to her desk and with hard-set features, began filling out a report. Moody was also there now, intent upon something on his desk. Harry hovered beside Tonks' desk a minute before returning to the workout room and filling in his fellows, who were quizzing each other out of the assigned readings.

Figures stepping rapidly down the corridor drew all of their attention away from that and down to the office where Shacklebolt and Munz had just returned. Shacklebolt held out curved broken pieces of orange ceramic. Tonks took one of them and turned it in the bright light from the ceiling lamp.

"Found it near where Reggie was picked up. I think we have it all this time, so I was going to piece it together." With a clink Tonks set the piece back into his broad hands.

"Don't use magic to put it together," Tonks said. "There might be some residual charm on it."

"What is it?" Aaron asked. Harry had held back and was glad his fellow had dived in and asked.

"We still don't know," Tonks said, returning to her report. "But we keep finding them in suspicious places."

Mr. Weasley returned. "Ah, Kingsley," he said, sounding haggard. "Find anything?" When Kingsley held up a piece of the object he was reassembling with the help of a bottle of Almers glue, Mr. Weasley was at his side to take it up. "So we can tie this to Merton, then," he said idly.

Tonks looked up sharply.

"Who's Merton?" Harry asked.

The room had grown a little tenser. "Someone we've been wanting to talk to but we can't seem to find," Tonks replied.

"His first initial 'M' as well?" Harry asked, feeling as though if he didn't receive an answer he might get extremely angry, now that he was free to.

"Maurdant," Mr. Weasley supplied. "Maurdant Merton, perennial trouble for years and years. Collector of unique objects, who isn't above stealing them when the owner refuses to sell or be coerced into giving them up. When we aren't investigating him, he comes in and raises a stink about someone he doesn't like. He's taken up new lodgings all of a sudden and we don't know where. Every time we get close we find some inexplicable things left behind."

Shacklebolt held up the patchwork object, the grey glue still oozing from the seams. Mr. Weasley gingerly took it. It was bulbous with three lobes melded together in the middle and three opposing fluted extrusions not unlike a vase might have. The main body wasn't much bigger than a crystal ball. "So, what is this?" Mr. Weasley asked rhetorically.

"Give it to Harry," Tonks suggested when the room remained silent.

Mr. Weasley seemed mildly surprised by this suggestion but gamely gestured for Harry to come take the specimen. Harry, curious, but also aware of all the eyes upon him, approached their department head and reached out to take the orange object. Before his hand got close he felt a queer shiver run through him and he pulled his hand away. That retreat wasn't enough though; as if a channel had been opened between himself and the object, his chest buzzed with a queer vibrating alarm. Harry must have stepped back because he bumped the cubicle partition, knocking down a pinned up photograph of Shacklebolt's dog.

"Harry?" several voices said in concern.

Harry focused on the object held in Mr. Weasley's hands. He couldn't imagine how the man was surviving that. "Put it down," Harry insisted in alarm.

Mr. Weasley did so, setting it on Shacklebolt's clean desk. "Harry?" Mr. Weasley prompted.

"It's evil," Harry explained, but that didn't seem to cover it. Most cursed objects radiated their dark power with the personality of their spellbinder. This strange thing felt mindless, like a machine, but at the same time malevolently powerful.

"Harry?" Mr. Weasley prompted again from much closer, although Harry hadn't noticed him approach. With him stepping between Harry and Shacklebolt's desk, the effect snapped off and Harry drooped, limp with relief. Mr. Weasley surveyed the others in the room as though looking for advice. "Maybe no one should touch it without dragonhide gloves or metal gauntlets on. You all right, Harry?"

Feeling his face heat up at all of the odd attention he had attracted, Harry said, "Yeah."

"Well, fortunately Reggie is going to be all right . . . should be out tomorrow, in fact, although I told him to take a few days off. Moody and Munz, can you two work out handling the junior Apprentices until he gets back?" He didn't wait for a reply to this before departing.

Moody heaved himself to his feet and led them back down to the workout room. Kerry Ann said, "We can do our reading review . . . that's what we've been doing in fact."

"How about drills?" Moody growled.

"Not today yet," Kerry Ann admitted.

"We'll do some o' those then." Moody then uttered something that made Harry's bones ache in unpleasant memory. "Potter, you up here in front. Two others o' you pair up there."

Harry pulled out his wand before even returning to the front of the room.

"You disappointed me last time you were up here, Potter. And you've been gone. Getting out of practice, I'll wager." He tapped his wand on the ring on his hand as he spoke. "Let's see how bad the damage is then."

He threw a chain binding that Harry dissolved with a combination fire curse and blasting counter. They weren't spells he had ever used together before; they had simply flowed out of his wand as though it was natural for them to.

Moody lowered his wand. "That was interesting," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, taking that as a compliment.

"Overconfidence, Potter," Moody growled and Harry guessed what was coming as soon as Moody's wand started turning in a circle. Harry had the counter ready and actually had to wait to cast it.

"Jabbajabba," Harry calmly incanted just as the maroon ballooning beast emerged from Moody's wand.

It popped like a giant bubblegum bubble, momentarily leaving jagged maroon splotches on the walls and ceiling. The other apprentices, rather than running their own drills, had stopped to watch this unexpected duel.

"You asked your dad about that one, I suppose?" Moody asked.

"No," Harry honestly answered and then declined to explain further.

Moody huffed but returned to drilling normally after that, before finally switching off to work with Kerry Ann instead.

Harry felt a bit like he had won his own Regional dueling competition.

Author Notes
Thanks for the Britpicking. Would not have thought the perfect tense of "get" would be different.

Next: Chapter 11 — Tangled Webs

Mr. Weasley pulled out an old stained, booklet with the title Dark Wizardry's Dementia and flipped through it. "Have you in the last three months considered or acted out magic that would do harm to another whom you disdained?"

"Greer," Harry replied, feeling perhaps too honest for his own good.

"The Potions professor at Hogwarts?"