Years of Struggle – The Cabman

Lady Nott

Iere used her time wisely after James returned to Hogwarts. She met regularly with her Gringotts account manager, usually once a month. Between meetings she studied her statements carefully. She didn't suspect any misfeasance but she knew anyone, or any goblin, could make a mistake, an error in calculation.

Iere's boutique, WHOOSH, did very well in the runup to back-to-school. There was a drop-off after the first of September, as Iere guessed there would be. James reported that Iere's polos were very popular, whenever the Hogwarts witches weren't required to be in uniform.

James and Iere had worked out a system for owl post during James' second year. James would initiate an exchange with a letter to Iere. Iere would then feed the owl a meal of owl treats while she wrote a reply. Fed, watered and rested, the owl would be given the return mail and sent back to Hogwarts. James usually reported on quidditch for most of his letter, then he might switch to business with a sentence or two on the number of WHOOSH jeans he'd counted in Hogsmeade the previous weekend.

Iere would write back an appreciative note for James' reporting. She was mildly interested in the quidditch accounts but perked up when he wrote about her jeans and polos.

After her boutique, and James Potter, Iere's main interest was the restoration of Nott Hall. For reasons she could not explain, even to herself, Iere felt a compulsion to put a new manor house back on the site of the old one. It wasn't a cheap project, but she watched expenses carefully. Iere always chose quality construction over shortcuts and unwise economies. She had no interest in spending a single knut on glittery ephemera. Iere's reporting always included one or two sentences concerning work done on Nott Hall since her last letter.

James took his OWL exams at the end of his fifth year. James expected to get Outstanding, or at minimum Exceeds Expectations, in all of his OWLs. He had had a very successful quidditch season. After the first practice, James saw the wisdom of Horace Slughorn's choice. Astarte Pennyfarthing wasn't just a keeper. She had watched and absorbed all kinds of knowledge from captains for whom she had played. Pennyfarthing ran tryouts like she knew exactly what she was looking for. She made her choices quickly and graciously excused those she could not choose, sending them off with hopes for a better tryout next year and encouraging words about practicing on their own.

Pennyfarthing ran practices like she had been doing it all her life. She let the team warm up before starting on a series of drills she had in her head. Pennyfarthing kept things interesting, going from drill to drill. She didn't hesitate or consult notes, moving from flying to passing to shots on goal. She took away beaters' bats and had them fly with the chasers. She put the seeker in goal for shooting drills. Once she thought the chasers were ready, she moved into goal herself and sent the seeker aloft to watch.

"We all need to feel what is going on," she told the seeker when practice was over. "The game ebbs and flows. Focus on finding the snitch doesn't mean tunnel vision."

It sounded pretty profound, overall. Besides, there really wasn't any way to practice being a seeker. A seeker spotted the snitch or they didn't, then they got to it first and caught it, or they didn't. Maybe learning to feel the flow of the game enhanced alertness.

"Team!"

Pennyfarthing got their attention when everyone came out from their changing rooms.

"Good practice," she began. "Now that we've got our players we can get down to business. Everyone tell the person next to you."

She let them pass 'Good practice' back and forth for a bit.

"Okay, tomorrow afternoon, same time. Let's get here ten minutes early and be warmed up when we start."

When James exited with the others, he saw that Putney was waiting outside, wearing a green and silver polo and jeans, topped off with a fluttery traveling cloak.

"Potter," she said.

"Putney," answered James. "Going out?"

"Aww, something unseemly, inappropriate, un-witchlike, Potter," Putney replied. "I came to watch and talk to Astarte. She had you sweating out there, I saw it."

"Oh, yeah," James answered. "It's a good game. It would be better if we ran around and kicked a damn ball at some point."

"I told Ginny I was coming up here," said Putney.

James was about to walk away, but that stopped him. He turned to face Putney.

"Did you?"

"She sends her regards," said Putney.

"She has an open invitation to our matches," said James, just as an observation. "I make sure she has the schedule, too. Personally."

Astarte Pennyfarthing walked up, giving Putney an excuse to break eye contact, and James his own to begin the trek back to the castle.

James waited until he could speak to Pennyfarthing alone, which happened to be at breakfast the following Saturday. Both got to the Great Hall as soon as the elves began sending up the platters of eggs and breakfast meats, toast and bowls of porridge.

"A word?" James asked, sitting down at the sparsely-populated table directly across from Pennyfarthing.

"Sure," she said.

"I was disappointed I didn't get picked, for captain?"

"Understandable," said Pennyfarthing as she reached for a bowl of porridge.

"I just want to say that your practices are the best I've ever seen," James went on. "I can see why Slughorn went with you. I also want to tell you that you have my complete support. We ought to be in the cup chase if we play like we've been practicing."

"Well," said Pennyfarthing. Her spoon was halfway to her mouth, then she put it back in her bowl.

"Well," she said again.

James turned to his breakfast, ham and a fried egg between two slices of pumpernickel toast.

The Slytherin quidditch team did very well that year, winning the quidditch cup. Harry was in the stands for the last game of the season. He finally gave in and sat with the Slytherin side, even though the final match was against Gryffindor. Albus had secured a starting position at chaser and the two Potters each played every minute of the final game.

Harry cheered along with the Slytherins when the cup was brought out. He considered taking James and Albus to the Three Broomsticks for dinner, then changed his mind. The quidditch team would be the Heroes of Slytherin House, at least until some other distraction came along. He watched as the crowd walked up the hill to the castle, waiting for his chance.

"What would you guys say," Harry began, "If I invited myself to dinner? This evening? At your table?"

Albus looked at James. Neither could believe what they had just heard. Harry Potter, the legendary Gryffindor seeker, asking to join Slytherin for dinner on the very day his lifelong arch-rival had beaten the Gryffindors soundly, claiming the quidditch cup while they were at it?

"It won't start a riot or anything, will it?" Harry asked.

"Probably not, unless you want to kick it off," Albus observed, earning an appreciative laugh from James.

"I say we go for it," said James.

Many of the parents who had come for the quidditch were hanging around the Great Hall socializing so Harry and his sons didn't draw excessive attention when they went in. Harry stayed with Albus and James, who circulated and chatted as they rehydrated with pint glasses of the kitchen elves' iced tea. The crowd thinned gradually as the dinner hour approached. Many of the visiting parents had taken students to Hogsmeade for dinner or signed them out for the weekend. Harry, James and Albus sat down with the Slytherins, joining the quidditch team. Most of the players, including Astarte Pennyfarthing, had collected in mid-table. Harry sat down, on the edge of the team, directly across from James and Albus.

"Salad?" Harry asked.

The room got quieter and quieter as the news spread from table to table.

"Harry Potter is eating with Slytherin!"

Scorpius came in from somewhere, spotted Albus and sat with the Potters. Headmistress McGonagall got Horace Slughorn's attention and made a motion with her head toward the Slytherins. The two of them got up from their places and made their way to where Harry sat with his sons.

"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed the headmistress. "These young people just took a quidditch cup that rightfully belonged to your House! I must say I am surprised to see this going on."

McGonagall did a very good job feigning consternation and confusion over Harry's perfidy. Most of the team got the intentional misdirection but a few looked genuinely concerned at the headmistress' display.

"The hat put them here," Harry said in protest. "I must defer to the Sorting Hat's implacable wisdom."

As long as they were there, Slughorn and McGonagall offered another round of congratulations and handshakes, hailing the victors.

Harry took his leave from James, Albus and Scorpius in the vestibule at the top of the stairs that led down to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.

"Messages for home?" he asked.

"Hello," Scorpius deadpanned.

Harry took the bait and waited for the rest of the message. It became clear there was no further message and the other three indulged in a good laugh at Harry's confused look.

"I will pass that on," he said, making it come out as a threat. "Ten more days?"

"Nine," the three said, together.

"Nine," Harry repeated in confirmation. "See you on the platform."

Harry crossed over the Hogwarts wards and apparated to the Burrow.

"We could have invited him down," said James. "No one would have objected."

"Centuries of unbroken tradition," protested Albus, adding a barely-audible, "Officially."

James looked alarmed at Albus' speculation. He didn't want to but his eyes darted to Scorpius and back.

"I've heard the same thing," Scorpius assured the Potters. "Just the idle gossip of gossipers. I refrain from acknowledging such nonsense."

Harry departed via the great front doors, crossed the bridge and walked through the gates toward Hogsmeade. He didn't have any particular place in mind, once he left the Hogwarts wards behind. Stopping and looking around, Harry visualized the Burrow and disapparated.

Lily wasn't very interested in quidditch, even a game in which her brothers played and upon which a championship would be decided. She had spent the day with Arthur and Molly Weasley, with the expectation that Ginny would come by as long as something more compelling did not come along.

"Hello, Harry," said Ginny when Harry walked up to the half door that opened into the Burrow's kitchen.

"Evening, Ginny," Harry said as he entered. "Molly, Arthur. And Miss Lily! Have a good time today?"

"Of course!" said Lily. "We baked. Cookies, bread and pie. Want some?"

"Sure, I could eat some pie," Harry assured her, before thinking to add, "Just a small piece, please."

Harry hadn't thought to limit his helpings while dining with the Slytherins. Lily personally chose a wedge of apple pie and used the server quite deftly. She put the dessert plate, a fork and a napkin in front of Harry. Long minutes went by as Harry took a bit of pie on his fork, chewed, swallowed, took a sip of tea and waited for a little more room to make itself known.

Despite the delay caused by the drawn-out pie eating process, it wasn't long before Harry and Lily were ready to return home. Much to Harry's surprise, Ginny stood up when Harry did, following along as Harry and Lily bade their farewells.

"Could we have a word, Harry?" Ginny asked when the three were outside, away from the house.

"I suppose," said Harry. "What's on your mind?"

"Ah…" said Ginny, glancing back at the house.

"You want to come by?" asked Harry, surprise evident in his tone.

"If it's alright, yes," answered Ginny.

"Well, sure," Harry said. "You know the way, so I'll just…Hanging on, Lily?"

Harry and Lily exited their designated apparition spot behind the garden shed quickly, to make room for Ginny. Bumps between travelers were a good way to get oneself splinched. Lily led the way to the house. Harry was mystified. Ginny held her tongue while they crossed the back yard.

Harry knew he was in for a bout of frustration when Ginny showed no need to get down to business once they were in the house. Lily was exercising her hostess instincts so a long string of must-dos, involving cookies, tea, napkins and cups with saucers, kept getting in the way of climbing the stairs and getting ready for bed. Even Lily had her limits, though. She left the kitchen and didn't return for several minutes so Harry went looking for her, finding his daughter sitting in an armchair in the living room, eyes drooping.

"Lily," he began.

"I KNOW-W-W!" Lily replied, turning one syllable into at least three.

"Okay, then, upstairs, wash up, pajamas, into bed," Harry said.

"Is she coming up?" Lily asked.

"Your mother?" asked Harry.

"Yes, of course, there's no one here but her," explained Lily, so even Harry could understand.

"D'you want her to? Should I send her up?"

Lily pondered the question. She'd seen it forming, in advance, but hadn't yet gauged her emotional response nor formulated her answer.

"I don't…think so. Nope. I'm good," said Lily, bounding up out of the chair.

Harry heard footsteps on stairs. Quite unknowingly, the orphan Harry Potter formed an association, right then, between the sound of feet on steps and an overwhelming sadness at his daughter's considered dismissal of her mother's bedtime blessing.

"Listen for the sound of water running, but I think…" Harry muttered as he re-entered the kitchen. He gave his eyes a flick toward the ceiling.

"More tea?" Harry asked, picking up the teapot.

Ginny declined, still nursing her remaining half-cup. Harry topped his tea up and put the pot on its trivet.

"What's up?" Harry asked as he sat down.

"Got the quidditch report on the wireless at the Burrow," Ginny began. "I don't know if congratulations are in order."

Harry had to mull that one over. He parsed it carefully. Ginny was obviously referring to their shared quidditch history on the Gryffindor side at Hogwarts, while nodding to their sons' places on Slytherin.

"It wasn't the most exciting match," said Harry, "but the outcome was very agreeable to a couple of your family members."

Harry hoped that was neutral enough. Ginny looked across the table, very skeptical, judging by her face. She let it go. Harry was glad for that.

"The thing I wanted to talk about was the Malfoys," Ginny began. "Does Lily really need to be spending so much time with them?"

"Not sure what you're asking, Ginny," Harry observed. "Draco, Astoria and Scorpius were very good to everyone, right after you and I split up. They could all go out to Jasper Farm, even if I was driving. I'd know where they were, and that they were being looked after by responsible people. They'd be engaged in wholesome outdoor activities. Albus and Scorpius are best friends, I believe."

"Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater! His aunt tortured Hermione in Malfoy's home! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Ginny demanded.

Harry gauged Ginny's stress. She got cranked up in arguments, lost her logical threads and connections and began throwing out random accusations.

"Draco could have betrayed us all, during the incident you're citing, and he didn't," Harry answered. "Have you ever taken the time to consider that, from different angles? Dobby, Mr. Ollivander, Luna and Draco, they all played a part in getting us out of there. Alive. We lived to fight another day, thanks to Draco."

"So you're going to let bygones be bygones?" asked Ginny.

"We don't have a choice," said Harry. "The question answers itself, it seems to me. Draco runs a legitimate business. Two, actually. He's a musician, besides. Hannah and Neville pay him and his guys to play at the pub. What do you find so threatening about all of that?"

"Who said anything about threats?" Ginny flared, making Harry wonder if Lily could hear them upstairs.

"You did," answered Harry. "Lily shouldn't spend time with the Malfoys because Draco's insane aunt did a bad thing to a friend of ours. It follows, therefore, that Draco and family are bad and we should stay away. Isn't that it?"

Ginny had to think that through. Harry was always cooler in arguments than she was. It was one of the things that irritated her enough to make the Harpies' coaching offer so attractive. When she argued with Dean, he wasn't cool. Oh, no. Each gave as good as they got. It cleared the air. Making up was sweet, too. Lots sweeter than making up with Harry.

"Lily is enthralled with Daphne and Iere," said Ginny.

'Here we go,' thought Harry. 'I thought it would take longer.'

Harry didn't say anything. He did nod his head. It could have meant, 'Go on,' or it could have signaled agreement. 'Yes, I know.'

"Does that bother you?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Does it you?" returned Harry. "It doesn't bother me. Why should it?"

"She talks about Iere like she's family," said Ginny with a hint of protest.

"And?" Harry went on, truly curious to hear what would follow his conjunction.

"She's not," said Ginny. "Daphne Greengrass never married. She just…had…her. No one knew anything about it and then there her daughter was, a couple of years after the fighting ended. No wedding, no marriage, no fiancé, just a daughter. Like she really did lift up a cabbage leaf…"

"Ginny, please," said Harry, hoping he was concealing his growing frustration, and anger, at Ginny's display.

"We don't choose our origins, as you know," he went on. "Daphne did a wonderful thing she didn't have to do. Iere is great with Lily. She didn't have anyone except Daphne and Astoria. Obviously, she would have been a wonderful sister if circumstances had given her the chance. What's wrong with Lily being friends with her?"

"Maybe we should be able to choose our origins," Ginny came back, the challenge to Harry's argument implicit in her tone. "Who is her father, anyway? She can't work with magic! Were you aware of that or did you just assume, Daphne's a witch, Iere must be a witch?"

"Right," said Harry. He shifted his weight on the hard bottom of the kitchen chair. "You're getting into places you don't want to go, Ginny. None of that has anything at all to do with the ability of Iere to be a friend to Lily. Not to mention you've forgotten my own origins. Do I have to remind you…"

"No, no, no, Merlin knows I've heard about it and read about it forever," Ginny spat, pulling the corners of her mouth down in a pout. "I didn't mean you. You know I didn't."

"Yes, you did," said Harry. "Intentionally or not, you were disparaging a class of people who don't rise to your minimum standard for inclusion in the fully-human population. Daphne was a witch, Iere's father was a wizard and she is as magical as you or me. Just different. My mother was a witch and was given the education to make use of her gifts, which were considerable, but she did come from a muggle family. Half of me comes from her. Half of Lily is from me, so one-quarter is from her muggle-born grandmother. Are you going to stay away from Lily because her ancestry doesn't measure up?"

Ginny sat there, getting redder and redder. Harry knew what was happening. He'd seen it often enough. When someone disagreed with Ginny, and stood up to her in debate, she became angrier and angrier until she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Harry Potter, you had better listen to me, I am her mother and I do not want Lily spending time with that woman and becoming a squib," Ginny began. "Daphne Greengrass is dead and Lily goes over to Owl Cottage and talks to her statue! She told me all about it, today. She thinks Daphne can hear her. She thinks Daphne listens and talks. They discuss things! What house does Lily think she would like when she goes to Hogwarts? How are James and Albus? Does Lily want to play quidditch like her brothers? It is insanity!"

"No," Harry interrupted, raising his flattened hand in a 'STOP' gesture.

"She talks to a statue of a dead witch," said Ginny, her volume going up and up.

"Voice, please," cautioned Harry.

"Today she told me she was in the house with Iere and Daphne and they all sat down and had a nice conversation over tea!" Ginny shouted.

Harry heard feet overhead.

"Oh, crap," he said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Not another word, Ginny," said Harry. "Not one. You are not qualified to speak of this. Too much you don't know, and I can't expand. Confidences. Be aware, you have no place in any of this because you abdicated your responsibilities, and the Potters, and you made your choice. Right in front of them. They've all said they saw it, one way or another. I won't wish ill on you for any reason but be aware there are forces involved that you don't understand and that you can't fight. That's enough for tonight. You can go."

Harry stepped over to the door that led to the back yard and opened it, then stood aside.

"Throwing me out? This isn't over," Ginny snarled as she brushed past.

"Yes, it is," said Harry, speaking to Ginny's back.

Harry closed the exterior door, locked the muggle lock and tapped the handle with his wand.

"Come on out," Harry said. Lily peeked around the hall door into the kitchen. Harry nodded.

"She's gone, for now. Tea? There is some without caffeine, shouldn't keep you awake," Harry said. He tapped the kettle with his wand to re-heat the water.

"I guess," said Lily with a sigh. "I didn't get to sleep but I don't feel like I could sleep now."

"That's how it works," Harry said. "You think you're going to sleep until the day after tomorrow and then something makes you wake up and you're as tired as can be but can't get back to sleep. That's when it is a good idea to find someone who will drink a cup of tea with you and talk things over."

"Stop!" Lily said, laughing. "That's too funny."

"Too funny to be true? Or too funny for the circumstances?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," Lily said as she pondered Harry's philosophical question. The hot water went into a cup with a bag of lemon/raspberry tea.

"Guaranteed not to keep you awake," Harry said, pushing the cup and saucer across the table to Lily.

"Don't be too hard on your mum," Harry continued. "She got her priorities screwed up, in my opinion. Of course, I can't think of anything more important, or fun, than living with you and your brothers and having meals and conversations together."

"What will you do when I go to school?" asked Lily.

"I've been thinking about that," Harry answered. "Living here was all about letting you three have a life, like normal people, until you went away to school. That's almost done, now. We have a country place. It needs a little work but the elves are good at that. They just wait for leadership, then if it doesn't show up, they do their routine, over and over. The house is fine although it would benefit from a bit of updating. How about you? Would you like to be a princess with a domain and woods and rolling hills?"

"So you would be a king?" asked Lily.

"No, I'll never be a king," Harry answered. "You'd be a kind of honorary princess, I guess. I was telling the truth about the woods and rolling hills."

"Hmm…" Lily murmured as she brought her teacup to her lips. "Horses?"

"If you wanted some," said Harry. "Can you be responsible for horses?"

"Are there elves who do that?" asked Lily.

"Maybe some of the chores," said Harry. "The horses have to eat, drink, get exercised and have their hooves tended. I don't know how to do any of those. Even with elves, and magic, there is probably plenty of work for the owner. We'll have to study up, maybe find some others who keep horses."

"Does Mum hate you?"

Harry was taken by surprise, both by the abrupt conversational course change and the sentiment in Lily's question.

"I don't think so," said Harry. "She is definitely dissatisfied over certain things. Maybe she didn't look it all over from this angle and that enough times before she left."

"She ditched us," said Lily.

"She did," said Harry. "What do you think of that?"

"Wasn't very nice of her," Lily answered.

"Got that right," said Harry. "Don't let it make you bitter."

"What I don't understand," Lily began, rolling her eyes up and fluttering her lids, milking the drama from the moment, "Is how she thinks she is still in charge of MY life. Her own is a big enough mess. Why doesn't she fix that before trying to mess up mine?"

"Well, Lily, that is a very good question, for eleven," Harry said as he fought the laughter. "Very mature. It shows good reasoning, too. Would Ginny like you getting into her business? No. So why do the same to you? That is a good approximation of the Golden Rule, although it comes at it in a slightly unconventional way. Do you have any ideas?"

"You're doing a good job, as our dad," Lily began. "James and Albus don't get in trouble, they're good athletes. I get good grades in school. Maybe she wonders why she was ever needed, other than having us. Now she sees something she doesn't like and tries to get you to do something about it and none of it matters. To you. Then she gets angry."

"That's some pretty good thinking, Lily," Harry said. "How do you feel about Ginny's problem? Do you want to fix it? Make it go away? Help her see things your way?"

"It can't be fixed," said Lily, just like that. "You heard her. She won't change her mind. She's too prej…prej-diss…"

"Prejudiced," Harry said. "Thinks everyone in a class of people is alike in some way, even if the evidence shows there are some this way, some that way, some others some other way?"

"That's it," Lily agreed. "Prejudiced. She won't change, Dad. I'll stop talking about Daphne and Iere. Maybe she'll leave us alone."

"Give it a try," said Harry. He hoped Lily was right.

The next morning, Sunday, dawned damp and gray. Harry was carrying on a muttered conversation with Bennie, the house elf, when Lily walked into the kitchen. The subdued daylight filtered through the windows, putting shadows in hollows and casting a soft light on noses and cheekbones. Harry saw Ginny in Lily's face, the eleven-year-old Ginny on the platform with Molly, the first time Harry took the Hogwarts Express. Harry didn't have an excess of religious feelings but he was very open to assistance from any quarter. He sent a silent request to Morgana, to look after his little witch and keep her clear of whatever formative experiences put Ginny Weasley on the path she had selected.

Harry admired Ginny's strength, backbone and determination to stick to the path. He didn't much care for the selfish streak that applied the strength and determination. He understood the desire to compete, win, establish one's place. It was part of him, as much as it was Ginny.

"Breakfast?" Harry asked.

"Egg, boiled," answered Lily. She took a moment to think. "Toast. Do we have any juice?"

"Of course, Miss Lily," said Bennie. "Orange and grape, natural and freshly-squeezed."

"Orrr…Grape!" said Lily.

"Grape," said Bennie, snapping his fingers and putting a glass of purple grape juice on the table.

"Can I have a horse?" Lily asked in a return to their conversation of the previous evening.

"Maybe a pony to start," Harry answered. "You won't sit up so high while you're learning to ride and building up your confidence. Let me study up on it. What did you want to do today?"

"Do you have to drive?" asked Lily.

"Not today," said Harry. "I'm at your disposal."

"Ha-Ha!" Lily laughed. "Disposal. Can we go see Iere? I think she wanted to go to Nott Hall today."

"I'll call and you can ask," said Harry. "No inviting ourselves if we're going to be in the way or somehow inconvenient."

Lily smiled and nodded.

Harry and Lily were welcomed to Nott Hall at the end of the colonnade of beech trees. Iere took them on a tour of the house which was now close enough to completion to tolerate visitors. They ended up in the gardens at the rear, drinking tall glasses of Sue's iced tea and enjoying the view of the orangery and farmland beyond.

"We have one of these," Lily announced, unprompted.

"Lily—" said Harry.

"Do you?" asked Iere.

"Uh-huh," Lily confirmed. "Don't we?"

"Well, yes, but it isn't nice and new like this one," Harry said. He thought Iere was due a short explanation. "It was in the family. I ought to have grown up there, but after my parents were murdered, I was raised by relatives. They are non-magical and to this day don't know anything about the country place. It needs some cleaning-up."

"Dad's thinking of selling our place and living there when I go to Hogwarts in September," Lily explained. "If he does, I'm going to ask him about getting a pony."

"Lily, that's still speculation," Harry protested.

"Want to see it?" asked Lily.

"Of course, whenever it's convenient," said Iere.

Harry was beginning to feel the onset of conspiratorial thoughts. He didn't know how Iere and Lily would have conspired but their direction and coordination was clear.

"Are you asking if we can go home by way of the manor and bring Iere?" Harry asked.

"Dad, that's a GREAT idea!" Lily exclaimed.

Harry looked at Iere, who looked back and shrugged.

"If it's not a good day…" Iere began.

"Oh, it's good enough," Harry conceded.

Harry wasn't confident all of the hearths were unobstructed at the manor. Iere closed up Nott Hall, took her leave of the outdoor elves who were pruning shrubs in the garden and the party traveled by apparation to Potter Manor.

The old place was impressive. It was big with enough architectural features to be interesting. The grounds were not overdone. Shrubberies had been allowed to put on some growth. The flower beds had plenty of plants, with a few weeds popping up in the mix. The house had impressive copper gutters and downspouts, all exuding age and elegance in their green patina. Chimneys terminated in conical terra cotta caps. The doors and windows were in good repair. The main entrance was a double door painted with a high-gloss green enamel with a great brass door knocker on the left. A fan light over the lintel contributed something, although Harry never did decide exactly what.

"Amazing!" gushed Iere. "This is my idea of a manor."

"Don't sell yourself short, Iere, Nott Hall is extraordinary. You are writing some history over there," Harry countered. "Want to see inside?"

The right-side door opened at Harry's touch and the party stepped into the foyer.

"Let's—" said Harry, reaching for hands.

Harry kept everyone in the foyer while he closed his eyes and reached out to the house. Only when he was sure they were alone and in an undisturbed building did he let go, take a deep breath and speak.

"Always good to check," he said. "The older they get and the longer we live in them, the more these places have to tell us. You'll be getting to know Nott Hall for the rest of your life, Lady Nott."

"Please," said Iere, blushing a bit.

"Well, then," said Harry. "It's your tour, Lily, so we'd better get started. Where exactly are we?"

"Where you're standing now, Iere, is the foyer, where his lordship receives his visitors," Lily began. "Through these double doors there is a library and lounge…"

Lily opened the library door and stepped aside. Iere stepped across the threshold and looked around.

"Beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"So we can come on through," Lily continued as she led Iere and Harry further in. "The room is well-lit in daylight with the windows on two sides. If not in use for meetings or entertaining, family and guests may be found here reading books on many subjects…"

Harry was close to bursting. He had not anticipated Lily's tour-guide gifts. Fighting the very thought he had to consider she might be a natural, with a vocation for guiding.

Lily waved at the shelves and mentioned that serious readers might be surprised at the quality of the collection. As far as Harry knew, Lily had never removed a book from the shelves. From the looks of most of the bindings, he theorized the collection consisted of volumes purchased by the foot in an earlier age. Few had been opened, Harry guessed, fewer still had their pages cut.

Lily continued guiding, taking Iere through the first floor, then upstairs to the second floor. She took special care with the master bedroom suite, with its two bedrooms, two full baths and sitting room.

At the end of the tour, Harry offered to take the floo to Owl Cottage, just to make sure the system allowed for the trip. Iere declined, assuring Harry she had every confidence Potter Manor had been built right in the beginning. She did consent to make a floo call upon arrival to assure the Potters she was safely home.

Once they had heard from Iere, Harry and Lily floo'd back to the London suburbs.

"Salad?" Harry asked.

"Fine," said Lily, giving up and yawning a huge yawn.

"Good time today?" asked Harry.

"Good time," Lily confirmed. "Iere was thrilled to visit our manor."

"How about you? Are you thrilled with your manor?"

"Of course," Lily answered. "Just having a manor is a distinct privilege."

"Where did you hear of a distinct privilege?"

"Some politician making a speech on television," Lily said. "I think Iere would like to live at Potter Manor."

"She has Nott Hall," Harry replied. "Her own manor."

"Sure," said Lily, "It won't have what Potter Manor has."

"Why not? She's building new. She can put in anything she wants."

"Dad," Lily countered. "Think about it. She can't equip Nott Hall with James Potter. Not unless they get married and she convinces him to live at her place."

Tired as he was, Lily managed to give Harry an affliction of competing thoughts with her calm observation. Harry hadn't considered the James-Iere pairing in light of Ginny's objection to a simple girl-girl friendship. Harry told himself he bore his former wife no ill-will at the same time he was hit by a wave of uncontrollable laughter.