A/N Just some random stuff: Yes, the uncle-niece thing is endearment; they are cousins. Yes, John always talks in innuendos outside of Hogwarts. And yes, despite what Mitch thinks, it really is romantic. Thanks for the reviews, they're appreciated and keep them coming... I especially want to know what you think of this one. ~ DQ

Chapter Six

John and Mitch

"Fear céile! Wake up, darlin'!"

Mitch Carnegie covered up his head and pretended he hadn't heard anything. He sniffed the air, smelling smoke. He decided to pretend he hadn't smelled that either. He heard strange sounds coming from the kitchen, then a sudden crash. He wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't intentional.

"No worries, I'll fix that... ah you're awake!" John decided when he saw Mitch's head completely covered. "I made ya breakfast! There's some burnt eggs and burnt sausages and burnt toast... and some fruit. I didn't burn that," John added cheerfully. "'Tis only fair, after all... you feed me, I feed you..."

Mitch grabbed the closest pillow at threw it at him.

"Now see, I knew you were awake," John said, dodging it easily. "Come on, céile, be a good sport and sit up. Do you want some tea, then, or should I put Pimms in your fruit?" he asked mischievously.

"Don't you think it's a bit early to start drinking?" Mitch said critically.

"Perhaps, but it might save m' life if you had a drink 'ere you see the kitchen," John decided. Mitch moaned. "Besides, you recall, I hope, that we have a very dry barbecue to attend at the Black's Mansion, now you know we promised my cousins to see them off," John reminded him.

"It's not like anyone will miss me if I'm not there..."

"Carol would for certain. She has asked me nairly a dozen times already to make sure you showed up for a change, and I'm sure Laura would miss your tarts... up you get. At least sit up so I can put down this tray," John scolded him.

Mitch sighed. He reluctantly rolled over and sat up, getting both a kiss and the tray for his trouble.

"I thought you promised me that you would stick to your fixing things and I'd stick to the cooking," Mitch said. He stared skeptically at his food, especially when he picked up his toast and noticed there was a bite taken out of it already.

"Oh really? I thought you liked getting served..." John said wickedly, and Mitch stuck the toast in his mouth.

"Enough flirting. I need time to steel myself up for dealing with all of those people," Mitch said, shooing him away.

"Now, there will only be family and friends there, Mitch. If I know the Blacks, they probably planned for you the moment they heard you were coming. The groups of chairs are surely spaced out, and they likely have a quiet corner somewhere just for you in case you need a breather," John assured him.

"Am I really so much trouble?" Mitch frowned. "I don't want them to go out of their way for me..."

"Oh, lawd jaysus, let's not go there again! You won't be fretting your way out of this one, luv. I told everyone you would be there. You are going," John said firmly, kissing his forehead. "I expect you out here and ready in an hour. And don't go in the kitchen. You can yell at me about tha' after we get home," he added, making a point to walk straight out to the kitchen door to shut and lock it.

John went down into the basement, which had been converted into a gym barely a day after closing on the house. It had been decided from the start that once John had begun to earn his own income they would begin making improvements to the cottage. They would start by converting the basement into a gym for John and also renovate the kitchen for Mitch. But John was quite painfully aware that every time he checked in at home, the gym became further and further done and the kitchen had yet to be touched. That trend had started even before he began getting a salary, he recalled, pulling himself up on the bars only to sit on top of them. Anytime John asked about him it, Mitch simply said it was worth the investment. As long as they had been married, sometimes Mitch's quiet nature made John wish he had been a Truth Seeker, just to get a glimpse at what vast thoughts lay beyond those hazel eyes of his.

Realizing he was running out of time, John went for a quick workout, training both strength and nimbleness just in case he didn't have time to do a more dedicated session later. He had sensed eyes on him before he finished, so when he flipped himself down again, he wasn't surprised to see Mitch sitting on the stairs, watching him intently.

"I see you managed to get dressed for going out," John said.

"Are you going to let me get into the kitchen long enough to get the tartlet trays?" Mitch asked.

"Oh, the tartlets! Um... why don't you let me get cleaned up and you can wait on the porch? I'll bring them out with me," John suggested.

"You really have done a number on my kitchen, haven't you?" Mitch said with a frown. "I really ought to clean it before we go..."

"No y'don't, then we'll be here all day. Out you go, I won't be long," John promised.

Mitch sighed and went outside, trying not to think too hard about what the kitchen might look like. He stared up at the sky, hoping that the clouds in the distance meant it might rain today. It was a comforting thought since it would likely shorten the time he had to visit. A few minutes later, John came out of the cottage balancing seven trays of tartlets in one hand without any effort at all.

"Do you suppose it might rain later?" Mitch voiced hopefully.

"Now, don't be hexin' the Black's barbecue party, 'tisn't fair for everyone else," John chided him. "Reach into my pocket, dear, they gave me a key when they found out you were bringing these tartlets with you."

"But I might grab the wrong end!" Mitch worried.

"I think I'll refrain from comment else I'll never manage to get you to that party. Grab hold of my arm, then," John said patiently. He managed to get a hold of both the key and Mitch, landing in front of the Black Mansion without jostling a single stacked tray. "There we are, macushla!"

"You could have made a good waiter," Mitch decided.

"What? And let all of my other talents go to waste?" John teased. He led Mitch over to the side yard, receiving warm greetings as they approached.

To John, it seemed to be a small, intimate family gathering with only the Blacks and Lupins present. To Mitch, it may as well have been a crowded stadium.

"Hi John. Hi, Mitch," Sirius said near the grill.

"Hello, John, hello, Mitch. Managed to get him here, I see," Remus said cordially from next to the table where John delivered the trays.

"It took a bit of coaxing," John admitted. "Where's Carol?"

"She went to help fetch some drinks and some other trays. They'll be out," Remus said.

"How many people are here, exactly?" Mitch asked.

"I'm not saying. I know better," Remus chuckled. "Having a good holiday?"

"Daecent, daecent, tho' it's nairly over now," John said. "I'm due back t' the castle on Monday."

"At least it's not far," Remus said.

"True enough, but keepin' up on a castle that size is a time consumin' endeavor," John explained.

"Yes, I heard Sirius say as much during the week and a half you were gone last term," Remus said.

At the mention of Sirius, Mitch had casually glanced back towards the grill, then frowned with alarm when he saw someone else he didn't recognize chatting with him and started tugging on John's shirt.

"What is it, Mitch?" John asked.

"There's a strange person here," Mitch murmured, and John looked over.

"That's just Conner Donovan, luv, I've known him for years now. He's probably here to check on Sirius since he's his therapy coach," John explained. "Do you want to meet him?"

"No. And you told me there would only be family here," Mitch said.

"Conner's here so often he may as well be considered family," Remus offered. "I do think he's coming over, however. Probably because we're near the food table."

"Good point. Let's find somewhere else to stand," Mitch insisted.

"All right, we will," John reassured him quietly. "After we say hello to Conner, that is. Conner! How's the form?" he greeted in a louder tone.

"Good, good," Conner said with a smile, studying Mitch with open curiosity. Mitch was brown haired and handsome, with a slight build and very fair skin as if he didn't spend much time outdoors. His eye color was a bit of a mystery, since he was intentionally avoiding Conner's gaze.

"This is Mitch," John introduced.

"Wow, it's Mitch!" Conner said with sincere enthusiasm. "I've always wanted to meet you! I've always felt that anyone capable of holding on to someone like John had to be nothing short of amazing."

"Yes, he's quite the catch," John agreed. Mitch elbowed John so hard that he barely kept himself from crying out, taking a small step away from him and trying to recover from the grimace with a pained smile. Conner bit his lip but managed to keep his composure.

"So what do you do for a living, Mitch?" Conner asked politely.

"Oh... um, I'm a pastry chef," Mitch replied, looking at his feet.

"One of the best damned wizard pastry chefs in the country," John corrected in protest, putting an arm around him. "Worked his way from commis boy through the kitchens, apprenticed in France during my first couple years at Hogwarts. He's been working in London ever since; recently he's been put on at the Enchanted Spoon."

"Only at Professor Craw's recommendation," Mitch reminded John.

"Woah, that's not easy to obtain, not when it comes to food," Conner decided, then noticed the stack of trays at the end of the table. "Are these yours?"

"Carol and Laura are both partial to his tartlets, so he makes them every time we get together just about," Remus explained.

Curiously Conner picked up the cover and nicked one, John pulling Mitch's arm down to keep from protesting. But it was completely obvious from the first bite that Conner was completely won over.

"Wicked! Fantastically scrummy! How do you two stay so thin?" Conner declared enthusiastically, taking another bite.

"We work it off..."

"What he means is we have a gym in the basement," Mitch blurted out quickly. "And he destroys my kitchen."

"What little there is of it," John admitted guiltily.

"Have you two still not started renovating that kitchen yet?" Sirius said critically, putting down a tray of barbecued chicken.

"I don't mind. The gym is worth the investment," Mitch said quietly.

"No, no... not letting him have a proper kitchen is a crime. They should pull your parole," Conner chided John.

"No, really, I'd rather the gym get done first. He needs it for his work," Mitch explained. "I have a kitchen at the restaurant."

"It's a lost cause, Sirius, we've gone rounds over th' matter before," John informed Sirius.

"Well, I have a few free days coming up next week, Mitch, why don't I come over and take a look at it?" Sirius suggested.

"I really don't want to be any trouble..." Mitch protested.

"I could put in some security to keep John out of the kitchen," Sirius suggested.

"Oh, well... I suppose I wouldn't mind that bit, not that it'd work," Mitch admitted.

"That's the last time I try making you breakfast in bed," John retorted.

"Do you promise?" Mitch asked with such sincerity that Conner was very much having trouble holding back.

"You two are very well-matched," Conner decided.

"Excuse me, drinks coming through... haven't you started on those burgers yet?" Anna asked as she and Carol came out with trays, Laura and Lindsay following more slowly behind. Sirius went back over to the grill.

"Mitch! I'm so glad you came!" Carol said enthusiastically, putting down her tray and giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Oh, but should you be standing here with so many?" She asked when she saw how uncomfortable he was.

"He was actually doing fine until all of you girls showed up," Remus noted.

"Mitch, there's a picnic blanket and a couple of chairs under the tree over there if it's too much," Anna said, handing him a lemonade.

"I'd like a chance to visit Uncle Mitch too at some point," Laura said, peeking under the tray. "Hey! Who took one? I always get first dibs!"

"It was me, and it was worth it," Conner confessed, noticing that Mitch was already sneaking off to the chairs under the tree with his drink. She stuck her tongue out at him as she got the next one, then realized he hadn't even seen her. Laura furrowed her brows.

"You have that look," Laura said flatly.

"What look?" Conner asked, glancing over at her distractedly.

"That look like you're trying to get into someone's head," Laura said. Conner blinked and stared at her.

"I don't have a look like that."

"You sure as hell do," Laura retorted.

"You're imagining things," Conner said.

"Am not," Laura said firmly.

"Laura, you're not going to get into a tiff out here, are you?" Remus asked sternly.

"I will if he starts psychoanalyzing everyone," Laura said.

"You mean like about someone who's ready to pick a fight because I happened to snag the first tartlet?" Conner inquired, grabbing another.

"Now, if the two of you are comin' to blows, I'd prefer it if you'd do it in the house, if you please," John intervened. "I don't want anyone doing anything that'll give Mitch reason to avoid the next one of these family gatherings, and an argument would certainly do it."

"Sorry," Conner said sincerely and decided to walk away, getting a drink and going over to the picnic table near Sirius.

"Well, I'm going to sit with Uncle Mitch," Laura decided, putting together a quick plate for herself. "I haven't seen him all year."

"All right, but I want to visit with him next," Carol insisted, sitting next to Remus while Laura walked under the tree, John not far behind with a plate of his own.

Laura opted for sitting on the blanket, so John took the other chair, putting his drink down on the small table between he and Mitch.

"Are you angry at Conner?" Mitch asked straight away, and Laura immediately was glad that John had said something.

"No," Laura said. "But he did take my tartlet," she said as a way of explanation.

"He can hardly be expected to know that little tradition," Mitch chided her.

"Aye, and you're hardly a little girl anymore, either, and you haven't been for a few years," John shook a finger at her. "Which is the whole reason you were given first pick in the first place."

"Shh, don't tell anyone that. I may not get first pick anymore," Laura said mischievously. "Especially don't tell Conner."

"Is he your beau, then?" Mitch asked curiously. Laura glanced over her shoulder, making sure everyone else was staying back before sighing, turning back around.

"No," she admitted with a smile. Mitch frowned at that. "But that's a secret, and I'd rather you let everyone keep thinking that he is. Actually he's my therapist, and he's interested in someone else."

"Ah, that's such a shame," Mitch decided.

"Taken a likin' to him, have you?" John asked Mitch with interest.

"He seems to be a kind man. I'd like Laura to find herself a partner who is kind," Mitch said quietly.

"I'm not really looking at the moment. I'm going to have my hands full enough with my new job as Defense Professor," Laura reminded him, then took a breath. "I hope I can handle it."

"You'll be ace, won't she, Mitch?" John protested. "Everyone in that school has faith in you, and no one more than the headmaster himself. And for whate'er reason you do need a breather, you do recall where my office is. Just..."

"Don't sit on Mrs. Norris' chair, I know," Laura finished with a smile. "But honestly, if I'm going to be a Defense Professor, I really need to take care of myself. Everyone's been taking care of me enough over the last year as it is. I want to stand on my own two feet for a change."

"Yes but... well, you can be independent and still ask for help now and again," Mitch explained.

"This from the man who ne'er asks for help, for fear of putting someone out on his behalf," John teased.

"You would have me asking for help all of the time if you had your way. I don't like troubling people," Mitch replied.

"I'm sure if you were troublin' them, they would tell you," John said.

"No, they wouldn't," Mitch decided. John sighed in resignation.

"It's a lost cause, we'd be at this all day if we kept humorin' him with this conversation," John told her.

"Good, because I'd like to change the subject about what you were saying earlier," Laura said, "About me not being a little girl anymore."

"What of it?" John asked.

"Every time I asked the two of you how you got together when I was growing up, you told me that you would tell me when I'm older, and I finally just got you to admit I'm older," Laura said mischievously.

"She has you there, John," Mitch decided, glancing over at the others, still huddled around the two tables near the grill. John did a quick glance over his shoulder himself before he finally gave her an Irish grin.

"'Twas at a late license wizard's pub in Derry, while I was on a shoppin' trip," John began. "I was there to make some friendly acquaintances to speak up for me bein' there after the fact."

"Why do I get the feeling you were casing something on the other side of the river?" Laura hinted.

"We'll be leavin' the politics out, dear niece, or I'll end the conversation now," John chided her.

"Sorry," Laura grinned. "Go on."

"Well, as you can imagine, the night staff at the restaurant next door got outta work earlier than the pub closin' and they'd file in as a group, three or four on a weekday and six or so on a weekend. Mitch would come in with them and seemed friendly enough, but from the first night he took to his own table, looking into his brew like a lost puppy.

"And me, being there to be noticed as I was, spent a lot of my time sitting sideways on the piano bench in the corner with my horn out, playing some light jazz with the muter on. The first night, I'd play an hour, then join the locals at the bar for the last half hour, and planned to follow the routine the next night," John explained, glancing at Mitch who was smiling softly at him.

"But just at the end of the hour when I was about to stop, someone bought me a drink to encourage me to play a bit longer. So o'course, I played the last half hour... and then when I showed up the next night, it happened again. And that time I asked the chief barman where it came from, and he wouldn't tell me, but as you can imagine I was starting to get a little curious. I had already been planning to be there at that hour for the entire week 'ere my shopping trip anyway. I knew I'd have opportunity to narrow it down since there were few who would likely be there every night, so I could play a little process o' elimination game. I was already taking note of the faces of all the locals to help me with my work, so I knew I'd figure it out eventually.

"Well, by the week's end, I had it narrowed down to three out of the five who came every night; the two at the far end of the bar were only there to grumble to their favorite barman about their troubles and their wives, and weren't even likely to be allies. I knew it had to be one of the three from the restaurant that came in after work, and I grew mostly suspicious about this fit fellow, who had begun having his drinks in a corner table with barely a word to anyone after some initial chatter with his work mates. I was very much hoping I would have my answer for certain on Sunday, because on that day that restaurant was closed. The pub itself closed an hour early, so I was a bit concerned that might throw things off. But apparently, I needn't have worried; Mitch was already at his table with an empty basket of fish n' chips, as if he'd already been there a while. So this time when I decided it was time to wander over with my horn, I bought him an Irish Wizard Slammer," John admitted mischievously. "Even though he knew immediately it was far stronger than his normal brew, he still accepted it, and even moved up to the closest table to watch me play, buying me the same brew he had been sending me all week."

"It was working," Mitch said with a shrug and a smile.

"So I played my horn until near the end when the pub all but cleared out, and it was very much just the two o' us at that end of the pub, and I was blowing random melodies since I was paying more attention to him than anything else at that point," John continued. "He had finished only half of the drink and had a hand on his cheek, watching me intently with the thinnest of smiles. Then I asked, 'So do you enjoy my playing, then?' And Mitch shrugs at me and says, ' 'tis grand.' So I stopped my playing and look at him. 'What, is that all? You've been watching me play all week and that's all you think of it?' I asked in surprise. And Mitch says, 'Actually, I've been watching your lips all week, and wonderin' what else you can do with 'em.'" Laura gasped.

"Uncle Mitch! You actually said that? Wait, you picked him up? I always figured it was the other way around!" Laura admitted in complete surprise.

"I was only aimin' for a one-night stand," Mitch admitted with an embarrassed grin.

"Aye, same as myself," John agreed. "But then when mornin' finally came around, I decided a two-night stand would be better. And a third. And a dozen. Until finally, we gave up and he just moved in with me."

"Now that came as quite a shock," Mitch said with a distant expression as he thought back on the event.

"I never got around to telling him what my profession actually was at that point," John admitted. "I was a bit worried that perhaps he wouldn't move in with me had he known. But I keep a tidy house, you see, in case the LE comes to call."

"Except you always forget to dust under the bed," Mitch said.

"Who doesn't forget, exactly, besides yourself?" John teased him.

"There was a loose floorboard, and inside I found several large albums filled with clippings about the Irish Cat," Mitch explained. "The first was mostly from the Daily Prophet and the Oracle, so I simply thought he was a fan, although the Irish Cat seemed more my type than his." Laura grinned at that. "But then I noticed a great many clippings weren't even in English or Irish, and they were from all around the world and every language you can imagine, but with certain parts of it circled. They turned out to be Irish Cat references when I cast translation spells on them, and every single one was from a day after the robberies took place. How could he have collected all of those, I wondered. Until it occurred to me; it was because he had been there."

"So what did you do?" Laura asked intently, completely enthralled.

"I put the albums in my nightstand drawer and waited for him to come home in the wee hours of the morning like he'd always done," Mitch said. "Then once he was settled into bed, I brought out all the albums and put them on top of him. Then I asked him to marry me."

"You what?" Laura asked, gaping at him.

"I was just so terribly afraid of losing him," Mitch explained quietly. "Terribly afraid of what was going to happen to him when he got caught... and what would happen to our relationship. I suppose it wasn't the most romantic of reasons, but I couldn't bear the thought of not having a legal tie to him when the inevitable happened."

"Well, I admit our little trip to Amsterdam and having the proper paperwork made things a bit easier, but you never would have lost me, Mitch, as long as you were willing to forgive me for my compulsions," John told him sincerely, taking his hand.

"Forgiving you was the easy bit," Mitch said with a shrug. "The long time apart when we still had the house in Ireland and you were under house arrest at the castle, that was hard."

"'Twasn't easy on me either, but it would have been much harder had Carol and the Professor not stepped in when they had. I truly might have been lost then," John admitted.

"Where is Carol, anyway? I thought she wanted to see me," Mitch said, and the three of them looked over to see her peeking around Remus at them.

"Oh... it's probably my fault. Mum was probably waiting for me to be done visiting first," Laura said, getting up.

"She needn't have waited. I'm feeling much better now," Mitch assured Laura.

"I'll go ask her over. I need to refill my plate before everyone else gets their hands on those tartlets," Laura grinned, getting up and walking over to her parents. "Mitch is ready to see you, Mum... in fact, he might even be able to handle both of you at once."

"Calmed down, has he?" Remus said, getting up.

"Yes, by a lot," Laura agreed with a grin. "I finally got to hear the story about how they got together, too, and if you ask me, it was worth the wait."

"I should have known you'd be amused by it," Remus chuckled at her, then followed Carol over. A few minutes later, John wandered back to the table.

Just then, a couple of boys ran over to the trays, grabbing a tartlet in each hand.

"Hi, Laura," said Joey.

"Hi, Laura," said Jack.

"Hey! Leave me some!" Laura complained, the two of them running off again to the backyard where Conner and Lindsay had set up a badminton net.

"You knew perfectly well those tartlets wouldn't be there long," John chuckled at her, when Laura frowned at what was left of the selection and snatched two herself. John sat down next to Juliet and Zoe. "So how long do we have before Laura and I have to start worrying about those two at Hogwarts?"

"One more year of primary left, although I think that's the least of your problems considering who else is entering their last year of primary with them," Juliet warned, looking at Laura. "If I were you, I'd be very glad you're starting this year instead of next, because next year is going to be a nightmare."

"Ah, yes, the Minute Alchemist generation, I remember now," John said with amusement.

"Should I quit now while I'm ahead?" Laura chuckled nervously.

"Now would you truly do that to the good headmaster after everything he's done for you and your family over the last year?" John reminded her. Laura grimaced at that.

"Good point," Laura admitted ruefully. John patted her shoulder then got up, noticing Anna in the doorway attempting to get his attention.

"You'll do splendid, niece, I'm sure of it," John told her encouragingly, and then walked over to the house. "Were you wanting to see me, Anna?" he asked curiously.

"Not me, someone else," Anna said expressionlessly. "This way."

"Alright," John said, glancing at where Mitch was talking to Remus and Carol before stepping inside.

Anna went to the back of the first floor and down a short corridor. She pushed the wooden door open and led him into an office filled with books and a Wizardnet computer with a charmed black dustcloth on it... probably Anna's office, John supposed. Without a word she left, but when she closed the door, John realized that Alexandria had been standing behind it.

"Ah, I should have guessed when I saw the cloth over the computer," John said with amusement. "Hello, Minister."

"Hi, John, glad I caught you," Alex said. "I never know how long Mitch is going to stick out these kinds of excursions."

"Aye, you and me both," John chuckled. "So what do you have for me?"

"Ministry black bag job," Alex admitted, John groaning at that.

"Sure you don't have anything I can just steal outright for you? Anything at all?" John suggested hopefully.

"Sorry, but you're the only one I can trust to get in and out of Ministry offices without being detected," Alex said.

"Aye, but your Trade Elf agents can always make up the excuse that they're dusting," John said.

"No, not in all of the offices. We have got to check out every possibility, John, we have to find that mole before they cause any more trouble, especially now that they know we've found a way to get around their attempts with the paintings and the flag board," Alex reminded him.

"Who apparently already knows the Erase spell and therefore is probably cleaning up their own tracks with it," John pointed out.

"That would depend on a few factors, such as whether or not they're already on their guard, or whether or not they believe what information they're leaving behind is sensitive or not. Some things that seem harmless on the surface may still have some nuggets of information we can glean," Alex said.

"Vera well, whose office do you want me to go through?" John asked.

"Chester's," Alex said. John stared at her. "Yes, well, now you understand why I need you to do it. I suppose I don't need to tell you it needs to be done on a weekend. Preferably this one, because it's less likely anyone will notice since you haven't reported back to the school yet."

"Alright, I'll do what needs to be done, o'course," John agreed thoughtfully.

"You already know the procedures for getting out and the drop location is 28," Alex said.

"Aye," John agreed.

"Good luck," Alex said, taking a Portkey out. John stepped back outside, wondering how he was going to make it up to Mitch.