As late June turned into mid-July, Stephen sought and rented a small house in Little Whinging, on the far side of the primary school from Privet Drive. The Malfoys offered to pay the difference in cost between his old flat and the house – as well as charming the paperwork to be sure he would be approved for the rental – in exchange for the use of the address for Draco's schooling. Lucius helped him file the necessary parchment to get hooked up to the floo network, so that Draco could floo from the manor each morning and walk to school, reversing the trip in the afternoons. Stephen also bought an answerphone and taught both Lucius and Narcissa how to operate it as well as the telephone, in case the school needed to contact them.
Dumbledore worried briefly that someone had discovered where he hid Harry Potter, when one of his Ministry contacts mentioned a new floo connection being made in Little Whinging. But further inquiry showed the owner of the floo to be a muggleborn Hufflepuff who was too young to have been a Death Eater even if he hadn't been muggleborn. He decided it was merely coincidence that brought the young man to Little Whinging and concluded that he didn't need to be concerned that the man had ulterior motives for moving there. It was presumably convenient to the man's work or family or both, and with the new school year approaching quickly, Dumbledore just as quickly dismissed the matter as insignificant.
He had other things to worry about anyway; once again, the Defense instructor resigned over the summer citing a family emergency, so he needed to find a replacement from an ever-shrinking pool of applicants. He also needed to hire a new Muggle Studies professor, as Quirinus Quirrel, who had held the post for the last few years while working towards his Defense mastery, had requested a year's sabbatical in order to complete his studies – he lacked experience against several types of dark creatures which were very rare in Britain. However, they were much more common in Europe, particularly near the Asian border, and so a Master of Defense was expected to be capable of handling them.
Well, Dumbledore considered, when Quirinus returns, he can step into the Defense position. He's a decent teacher, he's in good health, no family to speak of, and no scandals or even hints of impropriety since I hired him. I'll request an auror to fill in the post one more time, and then Quirinus should solve the issue of no one remaining for more than a year. And while I'm at the Ministry, I'll see if perhaps I can find a Muggle Studies instructor within the Department of Muggle Liasions. At least I don't need to find someone to teach the Wizarding Culture course, although I am quite disappointed that they went and hired that niece of young Edward Cavendish to teach it, out of their own pockets, no less. I'd hoped that my hints about overstrained budgets would have led to them dropping the idea. Really, who would have expected Lord Malfoy, of all people, to have dreamed up such a course, much less to start angling to be seen as a champion of muggleborn? Still, it's just as well the course is starting this year instead of next. Gives me time to observe it, so I can see if I need to adjust it at all for next year. It wouldn't do for young Harry Potter to learn too much about the wizarding world, after all. It might give him ideas that, for the greater good, can't be allowed.
Rising to his feet, he exited his office and stopped in to see Minerva on his way out. "How are the new schedules coming, my dear?" he asked his deputy.
Minerva McGonagall looked up with a slight shrug. "Well enough," she replied. "Fortunately, the current schedule left plenty of openings where the Wizarding Culture course could be slotted in, at least for the younger years. As per the Board's suggestion, it will be a mandatory course for first and second years, and elective for older students. I am having a slight difficulty fitting it in for NEWT-level students; however, I've owled Ludmilla Cavendish to see if she would be willing to hold a class for the interested sixth and seventh years after dinner instead of during the day. It's the only way I see clear to manage, given how many of them have inquired about taking it. I'm hoping to hear back from her by morning."
Dumbledore nodded. "In that case, I shan't bother you any longer. I just wanted to let you know that I'm off to the Ministry to try to coax another auror into covering the DADA position this year. Quirinus will be back, hopefully with his Mastery, and can take over the post next year. I'm also going to see if I can't get someone from the Department of Muggle Liasions to give us a year or two as well. While I am glad Quirinus had the opportunity for travel to complete his Mastery work, I do wish he'd given a bit more notice before taking his sabbatical."
"As do I," McGonagall agreed. "Very well, Albus, I expect I'll see you at dinner, then." She returned her attention to her desk as a tray marked Muggleborn Invitation Replies started to glow a soft yellow. She reached in and plucked out a parchment envelope containing a letter written on that odd lined paper with a trio of holes in the left-hand margin that had become so common in recent years. As she read the request for a home visit for Annabel Entwhistle, who mentioned that 'odd stuff' happened around her younger brother Kevin and wanted to know if that meant he also had magic, a small part of her mind wondered about the purpose of the holes in the paper and when it started taking precedence over the formal stationery the muggles used to use.
Dumbledore left his deputy to her parchmentwork and strolled to the gates of Hogwarts before apparating to the Ministry. He fortunately arrived at the DMLE in time to hear Garfield Arbuckle, one of the oldest active aurors, saying to a colleague that he felt he was honestly getting too old for the work, but that he didn't want to just sit around home either.
"Forgive an old man for overhearing your conversation," Dumbledore broke in as he approached the pair. "But did I hear you say you were considering retirement, Auror Arbuckle? Might I be able to persuade you into a year of teaching, perhaps as a way to ease into that retirement?"
Both aurors laughed. "The curse struck again, did it?" Arbuckle said. "Eh, why not? It'll give me some pay as well as a place to live while I'm adjusting to civilian life… and I've got enough time to hand in my notice and go check with Prandep and Ketterly, see what sort of books and lesson plans they used when they each took a year off to teach for you."
"In that case, I'll not keep you, my boy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling cheerfully. "Please owl your book requirements as soon as possible, so we can get the lists out to the children in time for them to shop for their supplies. The castle elves will have your quarters ready for you whenever you plan to arrive… perhaps the middle of August or thereabouts? So you'll have time to arrange the classroom as you like it, and get used to finding your way around those parts of the castle you most likely wouldn't have seen in your own student days."
"Sounds good to me," Arbuckle said. "I'll be in touch." He and the other auror moved off towards the DMLE, the younger one joking that it was good that Arbuckle only agreed to a year's contract, lest he fall victim to the curse on the DADA position.
Dumbledore proceeded on to the Department of Muggle Liasions, where he persuaded Harcourt Fenton, a junior member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, that teaching would prove much more fulfilling than twiddling one's thumbs while waiting for the monitors to indicate accidental magic occurring in muggle areas. Fenton agreed, as even when the squad did have something to do, the Obliviators handled most of the work – and they were specially-trained Unspeakables. The squad merely corrected whatever accidental magic had been done and left it to the Obliviators to handle any muggle witnesses. Besides, he'd be able to save most if not all of his salary as a teacher, since he'd get room and board as well, and no longer have to pay rent and buy food. That meant he and his betrothed could likely get married at least a year sooner than they'd expected, not that he informed Dumbledore of that particular reason for his acceptance of the position.
The headmaster returned to Hogwarts, pleased with the results of his trip. Now that this year's errands were out of the way, he could start thinking how best to get young Harry Potter to make friends with the youngest Weasley son next year. Minerva handled most of the visits to prospective muggleborn students, but she would be a stickler for handling even Harry's visit by the book. On the other hand, Harry wasn't exactly muggleborn, either, even if he had been raised in the muggle world since his parents died. As he was in the records as being born to a wizarding couple, he would get the standard letter rather than the muggleborn informational packet.
When the lad responds with a request for more information – or if he doesn't respond at all – I can send either Severus or Hagrid out to tell him a bit more and to escort him to Diagon Alley for his supplies. Either one would work well towards encouraging the boy to favor Gryffindor and dislike Slytherin; Hagrid because he'd been one himself before young Tom Riddle had gotten him expelled on the suspicion that his pet acromantula had killed Myrtle Warren, and Severus because he'll be certain to treat the boy harshly due to his incredible resemblance to James, thereby causing the youngster to want to avoid being in the same house that Severus headed. Hagrid is forgetful enough that he'd likely just make sure Harry had his ticket to the Hogwarts Express without remembering to tell him where the portal to Platform 9-3/4 was, and Severus would probably find a modicum of pleasure in picturing his rival's son lost and reduced to pleading for help from passersby. Either way, I'll have Molly Weasley take her brood through the muggle side of King's Cross when the time comes; her motherly demeanor would appeal to a lost child, and she could then see Harry onto the platform and introduce him to young Ronald at the same time. Albus popped a lemon drop into his mouth and gazed out the window of his office with a satisfied expression on his face.
Elsewhere in the castle, Severus Snape grumbled under his breath as he poured the last of the newly-completed batch of stomach soother into vials destined for Madam Pomfrey's supply cupboard. Not that he actually minded keeping the hospital wing stocked with the most commonly required potions, but the headmaster had barged into the lab the previous evening. The sudden draft from the door opening caused the flame beneath the cauldron to flare up at just the wrong moment, ruining a batch of Pepper-Up potion. He'd needed to make a trip to Diagon Alley for the supplies to make more, putting him behind his planned schedule. He really, really wanted to be done with the hospital wing's potions in time to take a fortnight away from the castle, where he could experiment with his own research without Albus poking his beard into every cauldron due to his excessive need to know exactly what he was doing at any given moment.
Additionally, he still hadn't the foggiest notion as to where to find the so-called Come and Go Room on the seventh floor that Lucius had inquired about back around the Yule holiday. Albus, of course, was the reason he hadn't been able to investigate properly. He had no real excuse to wander around the upper floors of the castle with the children gone for the holidays, and every staff member knew he preferred to remain in the dungeons, either in the lab or his personal quarters, outside of meals, unless he was patrolling the corridors after curfew. If Albus found him on the seventh floor, he knew the old man would want to know why he was there.
One of the castle elves popped in like usual to take the finished potions to Madam Pomfrey, and it finally occurred to the potions master to question the little being. If anyone in the castle knew about this hidden room, the elves seemed the likeliest source of information. "Just a moment, elf," Snape said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
The elf paused, looking nervous. "Is Dakker doings a thing wrong?" he asked.
Snape shook his head. "No, Dakker, but I have some questions for you. Firstly, are you obliged to report any request I might make of you or the other elves to the headmaster?"
"Oh, no, Master Snake, sir! Not if yous asks us to keeps yous secrets, unless yous is hurtings the childrens," Dakker said.
"Good. I have another question or two, and I do not want the headmaster to know that I'm asking. What can you tell me of something called the Come and Go Room?"
Dakker beamed. "All the elveses know the Come and Go Room," he said. "On seventh floor, across from tapestry of silly wizard and dancing trolls. Go past there three times, and bees thinking hard of what Master Snake sir wants of it, and the room opens as what yous bees thinking of."
"How is it that the elves know about it, when the headmaster does not?"
"Dakker is not knowing why Headmaster Whiskers is not knowing it, Master Snake, sir. But elveses use room for keeping losted things until we's is asked to find them again."
"I see. Thank you, Dakker, go on and take the potions to Madam Pomfrey now," Snape said. "And remember, know one is to know that I asked about the Come and Go Room."
"Yes, sir, Master Snake sir," Dakker replied before popping out with the box of potions.
Snape's lips twitched as he turned his attention to replacing the ruined Pepper-Up potion. The elves used the room as a lost-and-found storage area? He could only imagine the amount of parchment piled up in the room; notes and essays misplaced by generations of dunderheaded students and the occasional absent-minded professors. At least he finally had an answer to give to Lucius, the next time he was at Malfoy Manor to see his godson and meet the new baby. Come to think of it, he ought to gift Narcissa with a pot of the skin cream he'd developed for his own use to prevent scarring on his hands from any accidental cuts or burns acquired as he worked. Experimental potions were known to fail spectacularly at times, after all, and scarred and calloused fingers could be detrimental to his potions-making ability by not allowing him to feel if certain ingredients were ground to the proper consistency and such. The cream would easily eliminate any stretch marks left from Narcissa's recent pregnancy. He shook himself free of his maunderings, focusing back on the task at hand in hopes of getting his brewing back on schedule.
A few days before his birthday and planned week at Balmoral with Princess Diana and the princes, Harry picked up the mail on his way in to breakfast and stared at his aunt's favourite tabloid's front page. 'Diana Dating Mystery Man!' blared the main headline, over a photo of a smiling Diana strapping on a helmet as she obviously prepared to mount a motorcycle behind a helmeted and leather-jacketed man holding the bike steady. The man's face wasn't visible, but Harry recognised both the bike and helmets as belonging to his godfather.
Petunia glanced at the photo and headline with a sniff. "I'm surprised the Queen allows her to be seen with such a hooligan," she said. "She might not be married to Prince Charles anymore, but she's still the mother of the heir to the throne. She ought to conduct herself appropriately." She looked at her nephew and frowned. "I hope she doesn't intend asking this mystery man on holiday with you."
"Not that I've heard, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. Sirius hadn't mentioned being invited along when they'd seen each other last weekend, although he had said that he was now courting someone and hoped to eventually persuade her into marrying him. "I wouldn't think Princess Diana would even ask the Queen for permission to invite a date to Balmoral just yet anyway. She can't have been seeing him for very long, after all, the divorce only just went through last month."
"True enough," Petunia agreed. "I still think she oughtn't to be seen with a hooligan like that, but then again, she was quite young when she and Prince Charles married. I suppose it doesn't matter if she wants to make a fool of herself over a so-called bad boy, so long as she doesn't allow him any sort of influence with the little princes."
Harry started to ask why she thought the man was a hooligan but thought the better of it. "She's a good mum, so I'm sure she'll do what's right by Wills and little Harry," he said. "Oh, speaking of Wills, you'll be glad to know I'm going to take Suliss with me when I go to Balmoral. He's heard so much about her that he wants a pet snake now too. He's written that they've got a habitat set up, but they want me to bring her and teach him how to handle her properly and all that before they get him a snake of his own."
Petunia shuddered at the thought of the little prince handling a snake, but also heaved a sigh of relief that she'd not have to feed Harry's pet or clean the tank while he was on holiday. "I think Her Royal Highness is crazy, even considering getting her son a snake, but I am glad I won't have to care for yours," she said. "I have to admit, I would have forbidden a pet snake back when you got yours, if it had occurred to me that snakes were even an option. But because they scare me, you know? Not just to keep you from something you wanted." Changing the subject abruptly, she asked, "What time will you be leaving for your holiday?"
"Stephen will be picking me up at seven in the morning, day after tomorrow," Harry said.
"And Marge will be collecting Dudders at noon for his week at the seashore. I won't know what to do with myself, a whole week with no one to cook or clean for!" She smiled. "Perhaps I'll indulge myself a little, and have my hair done? If I'm going to uni and then back to work, I ought to try to look a little less – housewifely, don't you think?"
Harry froze like a deer in headlights. "Er… maybe you should ask Stephen? I, uh, don't know what's proper in business or anything."
Petunia laughed. "And you're also a boy, just about to turn ten. That was foolish of me, to have asked your opinion. But you have a habit of really listening to people when they talk to you, I've discovered, and that's a good thing, even if it does sometimes make people forget just how young you really are. I just wish your cousin listened better, but he takes after Marge, I'm afraid. She's one that only hears the bits she wants to hear and disregards the rest. I only hope she doesn't undo all the good his diet's started to do for him, by trying to 'feed him up proper' according to her definition of proper. He's down two stone so far."
"Say you'll get him whatever the newest game for his system is, if he doesn't gain more than half a stone while he's gone? Or something else he might want. Smeltings is the sort of school that wants the students to do some kind of sport or art as well as classroom lessons, right? I can't see Dudley as a runner or swimmer, but perhaps he'd enjoy something like rugby, boxing, or wrestling?" Harry winced internally at the thought of his cousin learning to throw punches properly but continued anyway, "That way he'd go into Smeltings with the basics and have a better chance at being picked for one of the competitive teams, and sports players are nearly always more popular in school, too."
"Now that's something that never would have occurred to me, and proves once again that you pay attention," Petunia said. "Thank you for the idea, Harry."
"You're welcome, Aunt Petunia."
