I'd been set up by myself in an empty classroom while everyone was debriefed, sitting by the fire that was already burning even though it was relatively nice outside. Scotland and stone buildings were weird. Weird and cold.

I hadn't even thought Hogwarts had the desks that were physically attached to the chairs like in American schools, but this classroom was full of them, and I'd grabbed one that had been pushed up against the wall and dragged it over as a place to sit. The class was on the wrong side of the building from the sun, so even though it was only late afternoon more of the light in the room was probably coming from the fireplace than the dusty old windows.

The door opened and a young woman in auror robes pushed her way in. She was tall, pretty, and had pink hair in a punk style that seemed much more intentional than Professor Belby's. The color clashed badly with the scarlet combat robes that seemed to be what the "uniform" aurors wore. "Wotcher, Dresden. Auror Moody will be with you in a minute. He's almost done taking your friend's statement. I'm Auror-Apprentice Tonks," she told me.

Of course it would be Moody, because Dumbledore would have invited one of his auror friends in to deal with the situation. Though this girl hadn't been at the summer party, she definitely had the vibe of someone who'd fit in there. "Pull up a desk," I nodded to her. As she did, dragging the desk to face me from about six feet away, I pointed out, "Mad-Eye sends you in to soften people up before he scares them, right?"

She laughed as she sat down, seeming to have a bit of trouble figuring out her feet and sliding a little clumsily into the chair. "Probably so. With keen insights like that into the auror mindset, I can see why you're Dawlish's white whale."

I raised an eyebrow, more at an auror admitting to disagreements in the ranks, but covered it with, "Didn't know they covered Moby Dick at Hogwarts." In fact, I was pretty sure they didn't cover it. I only knew about it from years of regular school.

"They don't. My father's muggleborn," she explained with a shrug. "He insisted that I know the classics."

I wasn't sure whether she was deliberately giving away information to build trust, or if she just didn't realize it was a big deal. I knew Dawlish would have been screaming at her for letting his number one suspect learn so much, so fast. Maybe she was just friendly. But despite having a friendly, very pretty girl who had the kind of punk aesthetic that nerds like me were powerless against, my libido was not interested.

Initially thinking that it was something to do with my recent death-defying bonding experience with my definitely-not-a-girlfriend Mathilda, I realized that wasn't the feeling at all. If I gave her long, black hair, aged her several years, and imagined her laughing like a maniac…

"I can't imagine the Blacks were too happy about that," I guessed.

"Ooh, yeah, you are dangerously observant," she agreed with the other aurors that had warned her about me. "And, no, mum was disowned and blasted off the family tapestry. Screw 'em."

I nodded and said, "Right on." I considered both that it might be fun to bring up her punk-rock half-blood probably-niece to my godmother the next time I saw her, and that Auror Tonks should be the last person in the universe to know who my godmother was.

Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open, as Mad-Eye Moody hit it with his shoulder. The peg-legged auror shouted out "Incarcerous! Stupefy!" as he waved his wand through the motions.

Half expecting it, but still not having a great way to dodge, I had a split second to realize my shield might not work well against the cloud of ropes that was heading at me and so I waited until they were almost on me and raised my right hand in an uppercut while invoking, "Diffindo!" The ropes sheared into pieces and dissipated to the severing charm.

I thought I'd then have to shield against the stunner, but it had actually been directed at Tonks, who managed to duck but then tipped the desk over onto herself. She still had a wand out and pointed at Moody from the floor, however. The deranged auror barked out a laugh, and sheathed his wand. "Constant vigilance! You both pass. Though your seating choice was terrible, Dresden, and you still need to figure out how to dodge without winding up on the floor, Tonks."

"Alastor Moody!" the assistant headmistress objected in her thick Scottish brogue, far enough behind him that she hadn't been able to stop the aggressive test.

"Minerva McGonagall!" he snarked back at her, clearly not threatened. He was probably old enough that he'd never been her student, really lowering the intimidation factor she was used to having over Hogwarts graduates.

Tonks righted herself back into the desk and McGonagall quietly summoned one of the other desks and transfigured it into a regular chair—though one that looked more comfortable than it had been—and sat on the other side of the fire from me. Moody stayed standing, leaning against the wall just inside the door far enough to my left that I couldn't easily watch both him and Tonks. The trainee auror pulled a roll of parchment from her robe pocket and produced a quill that set to floating over the page.

"Alright, let's get this started. Dicta-quill recording is proceeding overseen by Auror-Apprentice Nymphadora Tonks," I caught a grimace of annoyance from her at revealing her full name. I had to agree that it was a bummer of a first name, unless you wanted to get into adult entertainment as a career. "Auror Alastor Moody interviewing underaged witness Harry Dresden. Minerva McGonagall is here in loco parentis for this interview." Getting a nod from Tonks that the quill was recording correctly, he began, "Mr. Dresden, please describe the events of this afternoon in Hogsmeade environs in your own words and to the best of your recollection."

I didn't have to hold anything back, surprisingly. I thought about amending that I'd cast the blasting curse at the guy with the axe, but he'd clearly survived. If Dawlish was doing the interview, it might have been a problem. But, then, Mathilda might have mentioned it and I'd be in trouble for lying. Otherwise, I didn't think I'd done anything illegal other than maybe breaking and entering and vandalism blowing a hole in the shack. It was a weird feeling to not have something I was worried would get me sent to Azkaban.

As I finished up with exiting the tunnel under the willow, Moody nodded, "This concludes the interview." As Tonks put away the quill and started rolling up the scroll of testimony, he grumbled, "First thing, Minerva, you need to seal up that tunnel. It worked out this time, but secret passages into the school are a huge problem. And now there's not even a house on the other end."

"The shack burned down?" I asked, not having been given any real information.

"Yeah, total loss," Moody confirmed. "At least the bunch attacking the town didn't use fiendfyre like your lot, just regular fire-making charms. Albus had enough trouble running off the Death Eaters waiting for you to blow your way out of the shack to escape the fire to actually try to do more than contain it there."

"Running off?" I asked. "They got away?"

"Apparated out as soon as they realized Albus was on the field," he growled. "Bloody cowards. Left Flint holding the bag."

"What about the people attacking town?" I asked, glad, at least, that they'd caught Flint.

"Imperiused. Three of the regulars at the Hog's Head. Didn't take much to convince them to go on a drunken spree, but they'll probably walk. Whole thing was pretty much just a distraction so they could go after you. That American hotshot, Meyers, did manage to help keep everyone safe."

There was a knock at the door, then Dumbledore entered. "I have just finished suspending Mr. Flint, pending expulsion," he said, sadly. Seeing the relaxed atmosphere, he swished his wand and conjured up a plush armchair to sit in.

"That's probably all that'll stick," Moody pointed out. "He doesn't have anything worse than stunners in his wand, and even if what Dresden overheard will make it into evidence, he'll claim he was imperiused."

I growled at the injustice of how easy it was to put me in prison while people like Flint skated free as a pureblood. Then I realized something important from our recent diagramming of the curse, and explained, "You can only manage one imperius at a time. There'd need to be at least two more Death Eaters if Flint and three guys from town were cursed."

That actually caught Dumbledore's attention, and he nodded, "There may be one more regardless. Mr. Flint had no such curse in his wand, and, based on his OWLs, is likely incapable of casting it to begin with." He shared a look with Moody and glanced at the trainee. "Ms. Tonks, I know that Alastor has broached certain topics with you previously… now is the time to decide whether you wish to be read further into those topics."

Tonks blushed slightly at the headmaster's regard, and then nodded, "My parents never believed it was all over. If nothing else, we've been worried for years that my aunt is still at large," I tried to hide a wince at that and hoped everyone else was paying attention to Tonks and not me. "It's not much of a leap to figure that You-Know-Who may just have been injured rather than killed and is finally making a comeback."

Dumbledore nodded and continued, "Indeed. I was attacked to try to obtain my blood a few months ago, and now Mr. Dresden was attacked for the same reason. We believe it was for a ritual using an enemy's blood. And, while I would like a copy of the memory to confirm, I am fairly certain that one of the assailants was the same man that attacked me, Walden Macnair."

"Would fit with the axe," Moody confirmed.

"And the thin man?" I asked.

"It could be one of several, unfortunately," the headmaster shrugged. "The Death Eater masks obscure enough of the wearer's voice that your memory may not even narrow it down much. Macnair is obvious only from being one of the few focus casters like yourself that were ever part of the organization's elite."

"Flint didn't know who they were?"

Moody scoffed, "Not that he said, but I'd bet galleons their operational security is tight enough that they didn't need to tell him. He didn't need much of a push to try to do you in, Dresden. Apparently you've made an impression. From what we can figure talking to people, seems likely someone in Slytherin heard him complaining about you and wrote home to somebody about it. He was probably thrilled when a couple guys in cloaks showed up planning to off you and offered him a chance to join in." He frowned for a second, then added, "And there're so many snakes in that dorm with Death Eater relatives, it could still be anybody."

Dumbledore mused, "But the suggestion that there was a third individual that was willing to imperius someone but not attack Mr. Dresden might be a useful avenue of inquiry." He looked at me, "Now, Harry, you will be of-age before the next Hogsmeade weekend, so I cannot actually forbid you to go.

"However, I suggest that you, perhaps, stay with groups as much as possible and retain your situational awareness that served you in good stead today." He took a breath, then actually twinkled, "I understand this is a bit of a sacrifice that might make your romantic escapades more difficult."

McGonagall, who I'd almost forgotten was sitting behind me, quietly harrumphed.