Minerva pursed her lips as she picked up the next envelope. Let's see, Weasley…Fred and George Weasley, she mentally clarified as she slit the letter open and glanced over the reply form. Well, if they were anything like Bill or Charlie Weasley, they'd be a joy to…wait, what was that? She picked up the note that had fallen out.
Mrs. Weasley had apparently felt the need to add a warning. "As they will most likely be in your House…good-hearted but mischievous…will need close supervision…" Minerva made a mental note, but didn't really worry about it. They couldn't be that bad…
Vincent was to stay near Draco Malfoy and to do whatever the other boy wanted him to. He was not to read, think up math problems, 'see' anything behind walls or beneath clothing, or talk about anything having to do with school while he was at Malfoy Manor. He was not to ever say the name 'Weasley' while he was anyplace Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy might overhear. Did Vincent understand?
Vincent understood. He didn't say it to Dad, but it meant that he was in for yet another boring day. Every Sunday during the school year, Dad took him over to Malfoy Manor to spend time with Malfoy and Gregory. Vincent knew well enough why. For over a century, a Crabbe and a Goyle had followed a Malfoy through school and out into the world. They obeyed his orders, and in return he watched after them. (Or so Dad said, but something ugly always crept into his voice when he came to the last part.) It didn't matter that Vincent got better grades than Malfoy did; he was still supposed to become a glorified house elf.
Glorified! Glorified! Vincent had only discovered the word this morning, and he was still drunk on it. The dictionary said it came from the same root as glorious, but that it implied that something wasn't very good. He loved words. Whenever he got a new book, he curled up with it and a dictionary and lost himself on a sea of meanings. Anything became special when it was written down! He'd even tried writing a few stories of his own, but they weren't as good as the real thing. In any case, he wasn't allowed to read during his visits.
Malfoy seemed bored today. They wound up walking around the back garden for a while because he couldn't think of anything else to do, then they had to come inside again when he said he was sick of the heat. It wasn't that bad, but their master had commanded it, so they all went back in. Vincent could hear Lucius Malfoy talking to his and Gregory's fathers, but he couldn't quite make out the words. Malfoy hesitated, then put a finger to his lips and sneaked over to a back staircase. They crept about halfway up, then the pale boy crouched down and pressed his back against the wall. "They're in the study," he whispered as he pointed his sharp chin towards the unseen room.
The voices were coming through much better now, and it was fairly easy to make out the words. The elder Malfoy seemed to be in a good mood. He was going on about some wizard who had recently lost his head and gone to live with a muggle girl. Apparently the man's family had taken matters into their own hands and "paid him a visit" one night. Lucius was going on in very interesting detail about what exactly had happened when Vincent happened to glance over at Draco Malfoy, who was paler than usual and shaking. It took a lot of courage, but Vincent reached out and shook his 'superior's' shoulder.
"Did you want to go up to your room?"
Malfoy didn't seem to recognize the question at first, but then he managed a nod. The instant his bedroom door shut behind him, he whirled towards his companions and almost shouted, with his fists clenched, "They were people, too!"
Vincent could see Gregory's face, and it looked as confused as Vincent felt. "Who? The two your father was talking about? She was a muggle!" in case Malfoy had missed that part.
"Well yes, but he wasn't! And they just…just slaughtered him!"
Vincent still didn't understand what was wrong. "He was a blood traitor! He tried to marry a muggle, Draco!" He suddenly realized he was arguing and had to stop to think. Was this something a Crabbe wasn't supposed to do? Or was it all right unless he was told to shut up?
The other boy slammed his fist against a bookshelf. It looked as though it should have hurt, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice. "So what! He was still a wizard! They should have reasoned with him or modified his memory or something! Not killed him!"
As Vincent opened his mouth to argue back, Malfoy snapped, "Besides, have you forgotten that the Weasleys are blood traitors?! That's what Father says, anyway." He turned away suddenly and stood facing the bookshelf with his head down and fists white-knuckled.
Vincent stood stunned. He'd known that Mrs. Weasley didn't think muggles were all that bad. He'd seen her tell off a child for using the word mudblood, and he had been aware that some of the things they used in class had been bought from muggle stores. But he'd never quite put the pieces together. Sudden terror seized him and he gasped out, "They won't kill her, will they?!"
Malfoy turned to look at him, and a similar fear flickered in the back of his eyes. "I don't know. That's why I haven't told Father about her." Rather sharply, "I notice your dad hasn't, either."
There was a silence. "Who?" Gregory finally grunted. Vincent's and Draco's gazes met again before the pale boy turned to his second companion.
"It doesn't matter. Forget about it." He hesitated a second, then continued as Gregory still looked uncertain, "Are you hungry? I'll have Dobby bring up some biscuits." The confusion vanished instantly and Gregory brightened. "Sure!"
The other two shared one more glance as the house elf appeared. Underneath the spoken words, a silent agreement had sprung up. If anything ever happened to Mrs. Weasley, it wouldn't be because of them.
"…happy birthday James and Terrrr-ry, happy ninth birthday to you!"
Laughter and shouts filled the room as the twins quickly stepped up to opposite sides of a large cake with a quidditch-field design. "Get ready," Gran called. She tightened her grip on Spiderlady's collar to keep the excited treeclimber from skittering over and getting in the way. "All right: one, two, threeeee…GET HIM!"
James lunged forward and frantically tried began sticking Bludger-shaped candies into the cake, even as Terry did the same from his side. The icing figure of a Seeker kept darting around the top, but as the boys added more candies, he had fewer and fewer places to go until finally James slapped down the last candy and the Seeker froze in place.
Gran, who was holding a stopwatch, called out, "Fourteen seconds! That's three under last year!" The cheering increased in volume and James quickly threw a couple of dramatic bows, only to be knocked over when Gran let go of Spiderlady's collar and the treeclimber dashed across the room.
Other children had candles on their cakes, Neville said. He and Terry never had. For years, Gran had put various toys on their cakes or had unlit candles, but she'd switched to the bludger-candies a couple years ago. Apparently she'd caught a couple of her students using them in class to try and knock a toy broom off their desk, and after taking points, it had struck her that they might be good for cakes. So now he and Terry got to play 'Trap the Seeker' for their birthday. The only problem was that Terry sometimes got a bit overeager and would accidentally smack the cake while he was sticking a candy in. That thought reminded James, and he started licking the frosting off the side of his hand.
Lots of people had come to their birthday party; Neville, of course; and Professor Dumbledore; Hagrid and Akira; Poppy standing next to Argus and Mrs. Norris; everybody in Argus' Army; and Jeremy, Kristin, and Saleem, who had come up for the occasion. Jeremy had made it into the Auror training program and he'd promised to tell them all about it. Kristin was still jobless, but Saleem said that his business probably wouldn't have taken off had it not been for all her hard work. Right now, Hagrid and Kristin had their heads together and were talking animatedly about something, probably about Hagrid's latest pet, which he'd promised to show them tomorrow so long as they didn't tell anyone.
Cake having been passed around, the James and Terry both turned to the large collection of gifts. Neville's gift of a large package of chocolate frogs was enthusiastically received (Hey, maybe Morgana Le Fay will be in this one!), and an unmarked package, which James knew was from Argus, turned out to be a pair of beater bats and the balls to go with them! Gran had been warily eying Hagrid's present, which was somewhat large and appeared to be moving, but he'd regretfully promised her that it wasn't alive. Ten minutes later, it turned out to be a toy dragon that walked around, flapped its wings, and even attacked a miniature castle!
The party was one of the best James could remember. Camden hadn't been able to make it, due to a dragon that had gone wandering off the reserve and blundered into a muggle town, but he'd sent his congratulations and a promise to take them over to Zonko's once he'd gotten the dragon taken care of. Akira was present. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but James caught her staring into space more than a couple times, which worried him because he remembered the last time she'd acted like that at his and Terry's birthday.
Jeremy came over then, holding a mysterious bundle that turned out to be fireworks. He couldn't wait to try out the tree one…or the spears…or the dragon!
Akira stayed after the party to help clean up. She made for odd company, alternating between cheerfulness one moment and thoughtful silence the next. Minerva wasn't really surprised when Akira suddenly asked if they could talk.
The answer was 'certainly', but not until Minerva had gotten the twins off to bed. This seemed to be fine, and Akira did what she could to help. Chore finally finished, she and Minerva settled down on opposite ends of the big sofa. Considering Camden's reports of Akira's withdrawal from clan life and pushing herself physically to the point of collapse, Minerva was sure she knew what to expect. Instead, the healer managed to surprise her.
After digging around in her bag, Akira pulled out an envelope and silently handed it over. Minerva raised her eyebrows before pulling out a sheet of heavy parchment. She had to read it over a couple times before the words made sense. She glanced up in shock. "Akira, this…is it real?"
There was no mistaking the broad smile that suddenly appeared on the young woman's face. "It is. I passed the exams and the MLE would be delighted to take me on. You're the first to know, by the way; I've not even told dad. I wasn't sure how I was going to do, and I didn't want to raise any hopes."
Magical Law Enforcement. Suddenly Akira's strange actions over the past year made a lot more sense. The target practice, running laps until the point of collapse, spending her spare time reading…why, she'd been training, not going mad! Of course, Akira probably had been overdoing things, but then, the MLE exams were notoriously hard.
"Congratulations!" She got up to give Akira a hug. "I'm so happy for you! Camden will be relieved, he's been fretting."
The young woman glanced down. "I know. But I didn't want to say anything in case I failed, and anyway, I guess I had some sorting out to do." She tapped her forehead and a wry smile twitched at her lips. "Nothing like being turned into a bird to make you want to revisit your priorities."
"I can imagine," Minerva fervently agreed.
Akira nodded. "It's a bit of a change from healing, but Minerva, I'm not the only Akira out there. There are other Alecs out in the world. If I can help even a few of those women… He cursed me a couple of times; did I ever tell you that?" She went on without waiting for an answer. "It was always my fault, something I did wrong. And the worst part was: I believed the whole thing. It matched so perfectly to my view of myself that it never occurred to me that it might be something wrong with him."
"Oh, Akira," Minerva felt like crying as she took Akira's hands and held them. But the young woman shook her head.
"I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me; really, I'm not. I'm just saying that I know what these women are going through, because I've been there. I'm the type who attracts losers, and I've been through my share of hell. I can use that to help others climb out of their personal hells." Her eyes were steady as she met Minerva's gaze.
Mischief sparkled suddenly. "Besides, if I work for the MLE, perhaps the Department of Vital Statistics will be forced to admit that I might just possibly be alive."
"What, still?!" Minerva exclaimed, allowing herself to be drawn into the change of subject.
"Still," Akira confirmed with a disgusted look. "They insist that I was legally declared dead and that I've yet to prove that I'm really Akira MacFusty, blah, blah, blah…bureaucracy at its best. I sometimes wonder just what they'd do if I dropped dead for real."
"Charlie…Charlie!" Mum was calling from the back door. "Get in here, Professor McGonagall's come to see you!"
Charlie gulped and jumped off his broom before racing for the house, it being faster than trying to ride the rickety thing. Behind him, there was a 'thud' as George lost a battle with gravity.
The professor looked up with a smile as he came dashing in. "Mr. Weasley! I do apologize for not letting you know I would be dropping in, but this was somewhat spur of the moment. It is a couple of days early, but would you like to see your grades? Thank you, Molly," she added as Mum bustled in with a tea tray and settled down on one of the chairs.
"Charlie isn't in trouble, is he?" she wanted to know.
"No, no!" Professor McGonagall quickly assured her. "I simply wanted to do a follow-up on his advising from last spring. There was one other thing, but I'll leave that until the end. Speaking of which, how are Muggle Studies going, Mr. Weasley?"
"Better than I expected," Charlie admitted. "Dad's interested in muggle stuff and apparently I've picked up more than I'd thought." He eyed the envelope she'd handed him and tried to force his hands to stop shaking. It didn't work. Trying to gain time, he asked, "You already know what I made?"
"I haven't seen this particular sheet, but I did get the raw numbers from the Ministry. Congratulations, by the way."
Charlie had just managed to get the envelope open and was glancing over the grades. A sigh of relief escaped and he handed his results over to Mum, who was on the edge of her chair. "Three O's and a trail of E's. Though it looks as though I'll be taking you up on your offer, Professor; I got A's in Transfiguration and Divination."
"You missed an E by a single point," she answered tartly. "I'm not particularly worried about you being able to keep up. Though I must say, couldn't you have gotten one more answer correct?"
Charlie flushed and was about to mumble something when he noticed the twinkle in her eyes. She held up her hand and turned to Mum, who had been eyeing those A's with consternation. "Charles had been having issues with another class, so I told him that he would be best off putting more effort into that other class, so long as he agreed to work to catch up this upcoming year. He fulfilled his part of the bargain, and I have no qualms about accepting him into the class."
Mum still looked dubious, but apparently decided to back off. Charlie gave Professor McGonagall a grateful look for her vagueness. He would never hear the end of it if Mum found out that he'd been in danger of failing so many of his classes.
"There is…one more thing," the Professor said slowly. "Mr. Weasley, I believe you know that you were one of the front-runners for the quidditch captaincy?" Having asked this, she went right over his stumbling reply. "I had not planned to ask you this, owing to your extremely heavy workload, but do you think you would be interested? From your performance last spring, I think you would be capable of it."
"Whitley…" Charlie started.
"Mr. Whitley is not at your caliber," she interrupted curtly. "Both Slytherin and Ravenclaw fielded very strong teams last year, and I expect most of them to return this year. You tell me, is Mr. Whitley up to the challenge?"
He thought it over. Kevin was a strong Chaser, but tended to focus on his part to the exclusion of everything else. No, the Professor was right; Kevin would probably not be the best pick. Allison was better, but she'd said many times that she didn't want the responsibility.
He looked up. "If it comes to a choice between quidditch and grades, I've already told you which I'll pick. But I don't think it'll come down to that."
"I don't either, Mr. Weasley," she said. Her hand opened to reveal the gold Captain's badge.
Rover got up and circled three times, then settled back down on his cushion in Percy's room. It was already past two in the morning and sleep refused to drop by. He blamed Professor McGonagall for that one. She'd been perfectly nice and had even scratched his ears the way he liked it, but something about her scent reminded him far, far too strongly of times past.
The faces of James and Lily Potter seemed to float before him in the darkness of the night. Gone forever, but never forgotten. No matter how hard he tried…
Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait, but with vacation (first in years and had a BLAST!) and late summer classes (ugh, Statistics), I haven't had much time to put into writing. On the plus side, I now know how to calculate the exact odds that I'll pull a king of hearts from a deck of cards, which will come in handy when and if I take up gambling. Heh.
For those of you who have been asking for Remus, I have NOT forgotten him, don't worry. As far as the story's concerned, he HAS been rather in the background lately, but that will be changing soon. I promise, you'll have more Remus very shortly now.
Hope you all are enjoying your summers! FOR VACATION!
