Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 34 :

The affair of Ginny's fight with Annalise was forgotten when it came time for the part of the holiday that Harry had been waiting for, a fortnight's stay at a beach resort in Spain, a Muggle hotel in a Muggle town.

Harry loved the beach, and finally learned to swim. He turned thirteen, and there were presents, and there was a beach party. Brandon was relying on their anonymity in the Muggle area to keep them safe, so there were no extra visitors, just the immediate family. If there were messages or letters from friends, they would be checked by the secretary for anything urgent, but then simply kept for them.

Lessons continued, whether at the beach or at home. Etiquette was regarded as vital, as was the teaching of the traditions of Aniragi (wizard) culture. That was something that was missing from the Hogwarts curriculum, one of the reasons that the Muggle-born almost never advanced far in their careers after Hogwarts. There was some history of both the Greaves and the Potters, and there was Defence for all of the children, but especially for Harry, although Mick Larkin was again critical when he admitted that he had not been able to practise the more powerful and destructive spells. He told him to ask Hagrid if there was someplace he could use. It was important, he said. There were also lessons in the Mind Arts with Katherine Perlkins, both for Harry and for Charlie. Brandon said that they were not as urgent any more with Dumbledore securely out of the way, but still valuable. There were lessons in Estate Management for all the boys, even Connor, and Brandon went through Harry's statement of assets with him, explaining when needed.

xxx

Professor McGonagall was with Headmaster Pucey in his office, advising him that Professor Kettleburn wanted to retire, (Care of Magical Creatures) and was recommending a replacement as teacher. "Her name is Janine Ironside. I already interviewed her and she seems fine. So with your permission?"

Pucey said, "You know better than I in such things. So yes, hire her if you wish."

"I'll do that. It is nice that we don't have to find any other new teachers this year. Even Defence. No teacher has lasted longer than a year in Defence."

"Why not?"

"Well, there's supposed to be a Curse on the position. Something always happens to the Defence tutor by the end of the year."

"Really?" Pucey said sceptically.

"For decades, though part of it could be a self-fulfilling prophecy, of course. Some have heard of it and refuse to sign on for more than a year. But last year, Lockhart was dismissed early, and the year before, Quirrell was burned to death although Albus never did explain how it happened. There was another, who vanished into the Forbidden Forest and was never seen again, and yet another was dismissed for gross impropriety with a student. All sorts of reasons, but few have lasted more than a year."

"Some have, though?"

"Some."

"Right, so what we will do is eliminate the subject of 'Defence Against the Dark Arts,' notify the students, and then replace it with something else, maybe Offensive and Defensive Magic. Or reverse it and you can call it DOM, short for Defensive and Offensive Magic. That could be a simple solution if the Curse does actually exist."

McGonagall stared at him and then laughed. "No-one has ever suggested such a simple solution."

Pucey gave his thin smile. "There is a lot of tradition here. Sometimes we have to break traditions."

"DOM. Defensive and Offensive Magic. I will notify Peter Trimble that he is fired and ask if he would like to apply for the new position."

"Do that. And are you going to ask the first years which House they would like?"

"Yes, but with the proviso that requests may or may not be granted. We can't have twenty in Gryffindor, for instance, and none in Hufflepuff."

"I'm still inclined to do away with the House system totally."

"There would be too much objection," McGonagall said firmly. "The Old Families would be outraged."

Pucey shrugged. His was one of the 'Old Families,' but maybe he was too apt to disregard tradition, and some of his planned changes could wait a little longer. He thought there should be a live-in couple in each House, for instance. A motherly woman for homesick first years, a man for adolescent boys to confide in if they chose. (They probably wouldn't.) And curfews should be enforced and late-night excursions firmly discouraged.

xxx

Harry stared blankly at the letter from Hogwarts that stated that the subject of 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' was cancelled, but then there was the list of subjects with the names of teachers next to it - 'Professor Trimble, Defensive and Offensive Magic,' and he gave a sigh of relief. There were electives to choose, but he had had good advice, and would do Arithmancy, Runes and Old Aniragi, the language of the ancients. Care of Magical Creatures would have been interesting, but conflicted with Runes.

Connor was to start at Hogwarts, and he and cousin Anton had some heated discussions. They knew they wanted to be together, but which House to ask for. In the end, they sent a letter that said they very much wanted to be together, and in any House except for Ravenclaw. That was because someone had told them that instead of having a password to enter the Ravenclaw area, there was a riddle, and as Connor said, "Fancy coming back tired from something or other, even not feeling well, and then you have to rack your brains to answer a riddle!"

There was the trip to Diagon Alley, with the pleasure of new books, new supplies. The pet shop, as well. Connor had decided he didn't need an owl as Anton had one, but when they went into the Owl Emporium, he was immediately struck by a medium size owl with a distinctive reddish tinge on both wings. The shopkeeper said casually, "That's Redwing. I never could work out her breeding."

"Can I have her, Mother?"

Sonia smiled at him, "If you want. She is certainly a beautiful owl."

Without further encouragement, Redwing flew to Connor's shoulder and nuzzled his ear.

Harry said approvingly, "She's clever. Hedwig does that."

Charlie remarked that there was really no need for owls when they had the Exchange Post Office, but Connor pointed out that not everyone had an Exchange Box, and in any case, owls were traditional.

Harry remarked, "Hedwig gets annoyed with me if I use the Box instead. She knows it's her job."

Connor stroked Redwing, and murmured to her, "Will you be my best friend like Hedwig is Harry's?"

The reply was a murmur of sound and a quick rub of her beak against Connor's head. Connor was satisfied. He'd always envied Harry his beautiful owl who was far more to him than merely a post owl.

xxx

Nicholas Flamel rejoined his wife at the luxurious chalet in Switzerland. It was a ski resort, but Perenelle was convinced that it was much nicer in the summer than the winter, wonderful scenery, pleasant weather, and no crowds. There was a reduced staff, but easily adequate for their few summer visitors. And importantly, it was conveniently close to the remote location where Switzerland kept its werewolves isolated and captive.

She greeted him, and asked how it had gone.

"Well enough," he said. "The inmates don't actually trust anyone since their 'Home' was turned into a prison, but the hope of a cure was enough to have three of them volunteer."

"How severe is the prison?"

"Comfortable. They each have a spacious room to themselves, their own bathroom facilities, and there are parks and gardens outside. They have their meals provided, but no medical attention aside from what their own Healer can provide."

"So this Healer is also a werewolf?"

"He is. Laurence Bates is his name, and he appears to be leader as well as the Healer."

"So that's the one you talked to?"

Nicholas replied rather grimly, "Through two sets of heavy bars, placed three feet apart. They no longer have direct contact with anyone who is not a werewolf."

"What do their families say about that?"

"According to the overseer, there have been no objections."

"Most werewolves are disowned, of course."

"If I can cure the Curse entirely, it will be the best thing I have done since the invention of Wolfsbane."

"Do they use Wolfsbane? It would be quite expensive for so many."

"Bouchard - that's the overseer - said that they brew their own knockout potion instead. So they are unconscious for three whole days, and while they still transform, they hurt themselves less and are not dangerous to others."

"It really sounds ideal for testing your new potion."

"It is." Nicholas hesitated, and then said, "There is one thing that troubled me, and yet it will be invaluable. There is a corridor that runs right along the row of bedrooms. You can see through it, but only from outside the bedrooms. Bouchard told me that the inmates must not know. They don't want riots."

"So they're treated like zoo animals rather than humans entitled to their privacy."

"Like dangerous zoo animals. And yet I can watch and see what happens rather than relying on reports."

"How many?"

"Forty-nine men, four women and a ten-year-old English girl, recently bitten and sent over just six weeks ago. She is not expected to survive the next transformation. I begged Bates to allow her to be treated, but he says it is up to her, and so far, she is refusing."

"So in three days, a dose every evening for a week before and during."

Nicholas nodded. He had a large stock of the potion on hand. He'd expected all of them to jump at the chance of a cure, especially as he'd used his real name. But they'd been suspicious and he didn't really blame them. Bouchard, the overseer, had told him of their fury and indignation two years before, when they'd woken after the three-day full moon period to find that their wands were gone and that their 'Home' had become a very secure prison. He'd said that they might even suspect that there were plans to kill them all off, and that was why there were always at least two who did not take the knockout potion, so they could remain alert and on guard as best they could.

Perenelle said comfortingly, "If it works, they can be released."

"If only it works."

"You are a genius at Potions, Nick. It will work."

xxx

On the morning after the first of the three dangerous days of the full moon, Perenelle heard her husband return, looked up from the letter she was writing, and asked, "Well?"

Nicholas said, beaming, "None of those who took the potion transformed."

But the next day was the real test, the middle day, the most dangerous day. And this time, Nicholas was not as happy. Of the three men and one child who'd taken the potion, none had transformed, but the fury and aggression that was typical of a werewolf was still there, and worse, in the case of the child, it had not subsided when the sun rose. At least she was still alive. A child's body was not strong enough to survive many transformations. Most children who were bitten died at the very first full moon.

When he went to see the werewolves that day, two of them, ones called Chivers and Pierre, held the exhausted but still screaming child to show him, while Nicholas closely questioned Bates about the state of mind of the others who'd taken the potion. But it seemed that it was only the child whose reason had not returned with the dawn.

He finally nodded, and said that he'd make some modifications. "I want a full cure, not just a partial cure."

"The women all want to take it, and five more of the men," Chivers said.

"Yourselves?"

Chivers said, "I'm game," but Pierre shook his head, and Bates said, "Not yet. I'm the only Healer, and that poor little Rosie seems to have lost her mind..."

"You did not expect her to survive, and she may still recover."

"At least she is still alive."

The morning after the third day, Nicholas quickly questioned, "Rosie?"

"We managed to get the potion down her, but she has not recovered. She just sleeps now."

"No-one transformed?"

"No-one."

Nicholas said, "I'll do better next month. I think I know exactly what modifications are needed."

"We appreciate it," said Bates, and Pierre said wistfully, "Do you think we'll be allowed free if we are cured."

Nicholas glanced at the overseer, who said, seriously, "There is no reason why not. You are not criminals; have never been criminals."

Bates ignored him, and said to Nicholas, "So you'll be here again a week before the next full moon?"

"I like my own lab for complex work, but yes, I will be back."

"Thank you."

xxx