Chapter 11 Onomasticon

"The seagulls by their looks suggest that Emma is their name...O human, you will never fly the way the seagulls do; but if your name is Emma, why, be glad they look like you." Christian Morgenstern The Seagulls in Galgenlieder (Gallows Songs- 1905).

AN: I'm saving you a trip to the dictionary as I'm aware not everybody enjoys them as much as I do. As a child I called them trips as they were little adventures that started by pulling Ariadne's yarn of words. I followed it through a labyrinth of associated terms that opened new windows from which to look at the world. Onomasticon means lexicon, which is a collection of names, usually in a specialized field or a list of toponyms and proper names with their etymology. A very well-known example is the Egyptian Onomasticon of Amenope, which contains listings of so wide ranging topics as beverages, pharaohs, household pets and heavenly objects. For once upon a time words were thought to hold great power and listing them was to some an act of worship.

Thank you so much for reviews. PhoenixAureum, is it the vocative or the accusative? I lean towards the latter for it's telic (makes it whole). Either way, love the handle. My thanks are belated, but it is always good to know someone is enjoying the fic. Celeste D. Lilica thanks for your very well thought out review. I always thank those who take the time to read me, if additionally they are gracious enough to give me constructive criticism -as yours definitely is- I am ever more grateful. I think you've hit the jackpot by identifying the guys' reactions are disproportionate, it is intentional. I don't want to reveal too much, but I'm building up my case that these guys are war veterans who, to boot, were raised in a ghetto; and for that they are suffering from an affect disorder resultant of PTS (post-traumatic stress).

I am convinced using the right word, one that neither glamorizes nor denies reality, helps us reclaim our power. I applauded Albus for always calling the psycho Tom Riddle. It is in the same spirit that I say the guys grew up in a ghetto. For me that is the best word to describe a place in which a birth trait excludes you from full integration to society. I think it is the best word to describe a place in which children can be badly hurt by the neighbors just for being different and in which teens skive school to fight rival gangs to the death and people take it in stride. I think that is the fair name for a place in which murderous gangs use tattoos to identify their allegiances and use recognizable marks to elicit fear. I also think that ghetto describes well a place which is under siege while the government denies any problem to keep their hold on power. It is also a fair way to describe a place in which the authorities are overworked and understaffed to respond when people are being killed left and right. I think all that describes the Wizarding World these guys' grew in. I think that leaves its mark on you. I hope I have managed to make them sound slightly off kilter and not raving lunatic. They are strong, crafty people, after all. They are coping, but merely coping, is no way to live.

The best way to honor constructive criticism is to act upon it. I've made the coping mechanisms explicit in last chapter, and I'll work harder on making my intentions evident. The full explanation is coming. Also, rest assured I intend to get these guys the professional help I think they need. I plan to introduce my Dr. Abraham Seward shortly, hope the name is not too much of a giveaway. I like my shrinks to be well read and have a sense of humor, never had one who uses a pseudonym, though. But Bram (we are on a first name basis) has especial circumstances that warrant the exception. Being serious now, veterans should have support integrating back to civil life. My take is they have earned it.

A friend of mine pointed me towards this delightful, rather nonsensical poem by Christian Morgenstern and I couldn't resist using it. I, like Albus, think some nonsense lightens up life, which is at times sorely needed. Glad to know someone else is enjoying the quotes. This chapter is once more too big so I have divided it in two. Thank you all readers for your time.

Elphias, we have been friends for more years than I can count and I'd trust you with my life without hesitation. As I leave you these diaries, I have no doubt of your unwavering loyalty and your prudence in handling their content. However, I feel obliged to warn you about the nature of some parts of them. I started writing them at Gellert's behest with the goal of using them to verify that we weren't unduly affecting the timeline. And as such they are on the whole a documentary exposition of our exploits in that quest, with some exceptions that I should now call to your attention.

Once I was committed to the cause of bringing down the Statue of Secrecy, I applied my perfectionism to the task of writing the diaries in thoroughness. But, even if that remained the main purpose of them, over time they also came to serve other purposes. Gellert and I shared these diaries. We put our hopes and dreams in them too. They were a way of saying things that were at times hard to say out loud, even for those who like us came to be so very close. When we were back to our normal time, we often exchanged them and read them separately, that created an opportunity for making the diaries into a sort of private correspondence between us.

My friend, sorry for what may seem to you as a roundabout, but I really don't know how to broach the subject delicately, so I will stop trying. Pardon my bluntness: we were young, passionate men falling in love. Our natures decreed that ours was an intense relationship and the diaries also were… I guess you could say that they were a device in the game of seduction we were both playing. They added a layer to the game. Hence, part of their content you may find to be inappropriate, as they weren't intended to be read by anyone but ourselves. That being the case, I think it best to forewarn you. And when the nature of a passage may be troublesome. I'll do so by putting the heading of: Hic sunt dracones, here there be dragons to give you the chance to...

Ron stopped Hermione: "Stop right there luv. I have absolutely no interest in reading about the game of seduction those two were playing. The diaries are bad enough as it is, if he is going to get more descriptive, I want no part of it. I keep telling you: we should just burn the whole lot of it. Honestly, people should learn to keep their bloody dragons to themselves."

Ginny scoffed: "Like you are one to talk after what you did to us yesterday. We were right here while you two were cracking Grandma Lavinia's bed! We had to take a cab home because we couldn't remember the Floo Network password."

Hermione was blushing violently: "It is Puffskein's tongue. I'm trying to keep it simple now that you two are coming here more frequently. I sent Harry an owl with a bewitched parchment only he could unlock about a week ago."

Harry nodded apologetically: "I remember now that you did." He went through a pouch hanging from his hip: "Yes, I even have your note here. I was a bit shaken both by Ron's story and about you two… I should have remembered, I'm sorry."

Hermione said mortified: "I'm sorry you had trouble getting back home, we were terrible hosts..."

"It's OK, the cab ride was actually fun. We didn't very well know what to do and the Muggle driver thought we were tourists, he kept pointing out places of interest. Next time send me the parchment, with his Auror certification Harry has been a bit distracted."

Hermione said: "I'll do better: I'm casting a Protean charm like the one I did on the Dumbledore's Army coins so we can all have easy access to the password safely."

Ron scoffed: "I would have liked that you did it before, some of those words you came up with were hell to memorize."

"I saw you read some from a parchment, bro. That kinda defeats the purpose of having a password"

"You are a snitch, sis. And I protected the parchment with a spell. I'm not stupid."

"My point is that you, brother, have no business getting on a high horse about keeping your dragons to yourself. I want to say something else: don't speak for me about not wanting to read about the game those two were playing." She smiled wickedly: "Color me intrigued. I take after my other brother Charlie, I really like them dragons. I want to read it."

Harry looked at her: "Gin!"

"I don't need to justify myself to anyone, not even you Harry Potter. Besides, it won't be the first time I read something of the sort. Parvati used to write her own take of The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle and some of it was… well it was pretty damn hot. She was good, very descriptive. Sometimes Lavander Brown did drawings."

Ron denied: "Nah, I won't believe it! Are you telling us that Parvati, our Parvati Patil wrote filth about Martin Miggs? And Lavander Brown illustrated it?"

Hermione protested: "The stories weren't filth. They were really sweet, Martin Miggs and Sai Laghari were star-crossed lovers. It was heartbreaking every time that Sai had to oblivate Martin at the end of the story. Sai used to hold Martin's head and kissed him saying: good night, my love, you won't remember me in the morning, but I will. I loved that part."

Ginny nodded squeezing both Hermione's hands as if they were making an unbreakable vow: "Me too, it was the absolute best part, that and how Sai always managed to be there wand on the ready when Martin needed him."

Hermione squeezed her hands back and said: "Yes, he always arrived just on time like a knight in shining armor. How could Martin help but fall in love with Sai time and time again? I always hoped that they would somehow get together forever in the end."

Ron scoffed: "Thank you, you've managed what Lord Voldemort couldn't. You just killed my childhood. Marting Miggs was my favorite comic. And that Sai guy was only mentioned in passing during the travel to India arch."

Hermione let Ginny go: "Oh quit being so dramatic! Parvati's stories did not follow the comic precisely, but they were good and hot, very hot."

Ron blinked: "Did all Gryffindor girls read them?"

Chin up Hermione replied: "You boys weren't the only ones passing reading material around. And people in all houses read them. There was even a list for passing them around orderly. I came up with it because people were fighting over who got to read them first and Parvati wanted to limit the number of duplicates, so we protected them from Geminio. There were a couple of guys in the list too. Parvati is about to publish her first novel Hold onto My Wand. It is an historic romance, a preview was published in the Daily Prophet and I intend to buy it."

"Merlin's bloody beard! Hold onto My… And the characters on that one are also guys?"

Ginny chuckled meanly: "Yeah, they are both guys. Grow up, Ron. And there is a waiting list for Parvati's novel that goes around the block too. Parvati let everyone read her stories at school for free, well, almost. After the first house cup results were announced, she charged the Slytherins and those tightwads forked up, that is how good her stories were. Rita already has the article singing the praises of her book and that woman has the nose of a bloodhound, she wouldn't bet on a stinker. Parvati is going to be a guaranteed success."

"Well, that's good for her. But it doesn't change how I feel about reading Dumbledore's wet dreams."

Hermione pointed out: "I think that if we start skimming through the diaries, we might miss important information."

Ginny grinned: "And I just want to read it, so that makes two of us against one."

"So that's it? You two are going to railroad us into reading about Dumbledore and Grindelwald bumping the uglies?" Ron turned to face Harry: "Are you OK with this, mate?"

The three of them were looking at him. Harry sighed: "I'm with Ron here." Before Ginny and Hermione could protest he clarified: "I don't care about them being guys. Frankly I don't want to read about anyone doing it. I think some things are private. I wouldn't want people going through our letters, Gin." He blushed: "Not that I'd ever write you that kind of thing. And it really is not anyone's business what I write to my wife."

Harry wrote notes for Ginny on the bathroom mirror or left them sticking to her tea mug in the mornings. No one could find fault with them, save perhaps, if they thought them too corny. Ginny smiled: "I love your little notes and you are right, they are nobody's business. So what do we do now? We seem to be tied here."

Harry chuckled: "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that I don't want to read about it, but I have no problem with you two reading whatever you want. So why don't we do this: when the diaries get… hot, Ron and I will go outside, have a mull mead in the front yard, and when you two are done reading that part, you can call us back. You can catch us up on any important information. I think that will make everyone happy, don't you?"

Ginny nodded: "That's my husband: the peace maker. It sounds perfect, my dear!"

"It is a very good compromise solution," nodded Hermione.

Ron smiled patting his friend on the back: "It'll give us the chance to catch up, mate."

That being the case, I think it best to forewarn you. And when the nature of a passage may be troublesome. I'll do so by putting the heading of: Hic sunt dracones, here there be dragons, and the note Et abiērunt dracones, dragons begone, at the ending to give you the chance to skip it altogether.

I'll also advice if some part of it is instrumental for the understanding of later developments and will try to address it in my notes so it is easier to pursue these diaries without offending your sensibilities, Elphias.

Hermione smiled: "See? That is just how considerate the man was."

"Yeah right, I wouldn't use the word considerate to describe that crackpot. But, since the important information is in notes, we could skim right through the uglies without worries, luv. That takes care of your objections, why don't you come to our side and then we will be three to one?"

"As Ginny said, I don't have to justify myself to anyone." And she carried on reading.

The next day we resumed our wand training. I had feared that after my confession we might feel awkward about returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak, but, on the contrary, I felt closer to Gellert than we had been before. Not that said bonhomie prevented him or me from undertaking the training with the uttermost seriousness. We knew our lives were at stake.

I was getting the hang of commanding loyalty from another's person wand. I was using an Ash and dragon heartstring and I managed to get a strike on my second try. He kissed me. I hadn't thought we were still going to do that. It caught me by surprise. I'm not quite sure how I ended up tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and not letting him go. The kiss deepened and he grabbed my posterior with both hands, pushing me even closer to him. I found myself in a rather compromising situation, pressing urgently against his tight. I should have pulled away, but I didn't.

When my hands moved down from his hair, trailing the sinews of his back, he grabbed me by the shoulders and gently but firmly broke off the kiss. Both his eyes had turned to a stormy gray in despite of still being under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion. He muttered under his breath: "Albus, unless you are willing to follow through, we need to stop right now. There are limits to my willingness and my ability to safeguard your innocence. I've been accused of being many things, a saint is not one of them." I was as if possessed, I made as if to approach him. He took a couple of backward steps: "Let us keep our distance for the moment, right now I can't vouch for my self-restraint, not even with you looking like that."

It felt like waking up from a trance. I realized I was still wearing the bellboys' looks and that, nevertheless, I was not the only one compromised. I turned my back on him, ashamed: "Sweet Merlin! I'm deeply sorry Gellert. I don't know what came over me."

He chuckled: "I do. It came over me too, which is precisely why we needed to stop... Or move forward… We can undo the effects of the Polyjuice Potion fairly easily. We have enough hair to redo it later. Are you willing to move forward, Albus?"

"Does anyone else think the dragon flag thingy should be around here somewhere?"

Ginny shushed him.

I gulped loudly: "I don't think I'm ready for moving forward, Gellert."

He nodded, crossing his hands in front of him, covering himself: "I can't hide my disappointment, but I'll uphold my earlier say that I won't force you to do anything you don't want, Albus."

I turned three quarters to face him, but not completely: "I think my want is self-evident. The problem is not lack of want from either of us. But it does lie within me, I've never..."

He smiled: "I've surmised as much. I don't mean to intrude, my friend, but I've been wondering… Just exactly how inexperienced you are?"

I chuckled nervously: "Enough not to know how to answer your question."

"You already know I've had intimate friends before. I understand that you haven't been intimate in full with anyone, but hasn't there been someone in your life with whom you have shared a bond that goes beyond friendship before? Your Watson perhaps?"

I laughed: "My Watson would be horrified to hear this. He is not interested in men. I love Elphias like a brother; I'm also not interested in him that way. He is shyer than me and in all likelihood even less experienced. Not that we have ever discussed it. I've never discussed this with anyone else before. You are a first for me in many ways, my friend, and at times that is unnerving."

He sat on the grass and signaled me to do the same: "Then I take it that there was no one close to you that way, not even back at school?"

"Was there someone at school close to you that way, Gellert?"

He smiled crookedly: "I had an unspoken agreement with one of the older boys to provide relief to each other, but it was little more than a convenience, no sentiment whatsoever was involved, at least on my part. I never did ask or care about what he felt about it."

"That sounds rather awful."

"It was satisfactory after its own fashion. The guy was a bit of a brute, but a handsome brute and that can be engaging if you are of the right frame of mind. When I was indeed of the right frame of mind we got together, when I wasn't, it was easy to avoid him. Mind you, despite rumors of what goes on in all-boys schools, such conveniences were not encouraged. As a countermeasure, the student council arranged visits to nearby towns or engaged Veelas or Nymphs to tend to the needs of the students in the superior courses."

"Surely you jest! Your school permitted those arrangements?"

He chuckled: "They turned a blind eye to it. Just as I'm sure your co-ed school turns a blind eye to what goes on between older students, Albus. Your Hogwarts is also known as a fair hunting ground of good marriage material. With your good looks and social graces, I'm surprised you weren't targeted."

"I am well aware some of the girls and even some of the boys see securing a good match as one of the main objectives of attending Hogwarts. Thankfully, I managed to avoid being exhibited on the selling block thanks to my lack of personal fortune and my family's dreadful reputation. Given that, whatever social graces I have were not enough to tempt the matchmakers. Merlin be blessed. I find the practice deplorable. Speaking of which: Did you… with Nymphs or Veelas? No, forget it, don't ask unless you want an answer."

"I can answer you safely, no, I'd never profit from such arrangements. Nymphs and Veelas are also magical creatures oppressed by the Statute of Secrecy. They are perceived as less than human and no one raises a finger if they are misused by less than honorable peddlers of sin who profit from their need. I'm not into coercing or imposing, I find willing participants more appealing. Besides, I've never found it hard to find accommodating companions of both genders. You'd be surprised of how complaint some of the heiress of the best Austrian Wizarding families can be when they are hiding from prying eyes inside pantries or in wine cellars of their stately mansions during balls. And I did want an answer from you, which is why I asked if there had been someone especial for you at school or elsewhere."

I laughed: "You are a braggart, Gellert Grindelwald. And, might I add, not particularly chivalrous to your former playmates."

"I'm not bragging and chivalry seldom applies to affairs of purely physical nature involving demimondaine boys and girls. All players understood the nature of the game and neither them, nor I were expecting anything of it, but exactly what we got. In some ways you are a first for me too, Albus Dumbledore. And I agree that at times this newness can be discomfiting. I never sought to understand or cared for the motivations of my other playmates, never did care for their pleasures save as byproducts of mine. But, then again, I've never played a game like ours before. You are still not answering my question. If you want to end this discussion, just say so, for if a game this may be, I bid you we play it honorably."

"Fair enough. It won't take that long to cover the story of my inexperience in full. I am not even a little mundane, for me such affairs must involve some sentiment. When that hasn't been the case they have been rather shameful affairs. My first kiss, for example, was with a girl. She kissed me after the Winter Formal. Having just won my first transfiguration championship, I was compelled to attend the event escorting a lady. The girl I chose was a Ravenclaw in the transmutation team and it seemed simple enough to ask her to go with me. I was oblivious to the fact that the girl had feelings for me. I considered her a mere acquaintance. I wish I had been paying more attention to her. I was delivering her back to her dorm after the ball, we were at the door of the tower when she attacked me. I didn't know what to do. At some point she forced my mouth open and shoved her tongue inside. I couldn't help it. I gagged."

He gasped: "Oh Albus, you didn't!

I smiled sadly: "At first I tried to play dead, but that didn't deter her. I guess she was hoping to elicit some kind of reaction when she shoved her tongue in me quite forcefully. I didn't know how to pull away without hurting her feelings and, in my indecisiveness, I ended up doing just that. She kept wriggling her tongue, I honestly couldn't help gagging. Then she started crying, asking in between sobs why I hated her so much. I was at a loss as to what to say. I couldn't very well tell her the truth. We both know the consequences of being exposed as one with what most consider a deviant nature."

"We have discussed the topic before, I understand your reticence."

"I went for a minor truth and told her that I didn't have any feelings for her. That sent her into hysterics. Once more my life turned into a story paper serial. She accused me of cruelly toying with her and demanded to know what had been my purpose inviting her to the ball. Again I answered truthfully that I had no agenda for I had picked her randomly. She cried out she had never been so humiliated in her entire life and that she'd wish she were dead. How does one respond to something like that?"

"Albus, don't look at me. Story papers are not in my line. I'm not subscribed to Girl's Own, not even to Boy's Own. Other than faking you were having a crisis when you gagged, I cannot think of a way of defusing that situation."

"I feel somewhat better knowing the master tactician wouldn't have known what to do either."

"Here is a pointer, don't kiss girls you don't want to kiss."

"She didn't leave me room to maneuver. The girl kept getting louder and I was at the end of my rope. All I could think of at the time was to pretend that nothing had happened. I told her that it was late, she needed to go to her dorm and so did I. I left. She hated me ever since and began spreading rumors that I had rejected her because she was Muggle-born, which, of course, had nothing to do with it. She could have been a daughter of the sacred twenty-eight and, being a daughter, I still wouldn't have been able to return her affections. The people close to me didn't believe her, but some people did. I felt wretched for handling things so poorly. I decided to let her poison spreading slide and to keep a safe distance from people in general to guarantee the incident didn't happen again. That reinforced my reputation of being a supercilious prick and a pure blood zealot, but as long as it allowed me to keep people, especially girls, at arm's length that was fine by me."

"Better be despised than kissed. I bet Machiavelli didn't think of that."

"It is not funny, Gellert."

"Nothing good can come from hiding your nature. Let us hope one day we are able not to. And your story is somewhat humorous, it is also tragic, both for you and that poor girl. Unfortunately, my friend, humorous and tragic go well together. I feel your pain. Some of those Viennese debutantes were predators."

I scoffed: "You poor dear, I'm sure you suffered greatly."

"I survived and so did you. Is that it, my friend? You kept people at arm's length until our paths crossed?"

"Not quite. There was a boy… No, not really, at seventeen Farouk was more of a man than some older chaps I've met. We encountered each other while I was substituting Professor Dippet as Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Dippet's father had gotten ill unexpectedly by the end of the school year, the Board of Governors was hard pressed to find a replacement for such short period. I was the best student. And, due to being in a fast advancement program, I had already taken my N.E.W.T. examinations on the subject and obtained an Outstanding mark. I got that grade for all the N.E.W.T I took. I had completed the examinations for Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes and Alchemy. I only planned to take three more tests in Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy. Most people were swoting in the library but I would only need to revise a few concepts for Arithmancy. I had time to spare. Not to mention, I always welcome some extra income. I'd covered some classes before, but substituting full time was unexpectedly pleasant. I did well. I saved enough money for going on a Grand Tour."

"I wouldn't have expected anything else from you. Did you have a Grand Tour?"

"No, my mum died before I could undertake it. I've managed to salvage some of the money I had spent in preparations and that covered mum's funeral arrangements as well as repairing our roof and fixing some things around the house, I suppose that is sort of a silver lining."

He looked at me darkly: "You are too much of an optimist, my friend."

"People in my circumstance cannot afford to be pessimistic. Going back to my story: One evening I was grading essays in Professor Dippet's office when this man popped out of the chimney and gave me the fright of my life. Farouk is a Wizarding Zoroastrian."

"Ah, that explains the fright. Even Godric Gryffindor is said to have been weary of them."

Hermione interrupted her reading: "I'm sorry, I'm not following it. Why would the man being a practitioner of a Persian religion be a cause for fearing him?"

Harry said: "Yes, I don't follow it either."

Ginny and Ron exchanged a look. It was Ron who explained: "Wizarding Zoroastrians are seen as wackos and heretics," He was quick to add: "Not by us, dad taught us to respect all wizarding creeds no matter how weird they are. Zoroastrian wizards think magic is not light or dark. They say all that matters is balance and that balance calls for the existence of both good and evil. Though these guys don't call it that way, they call it creation and destruction, they claim that nature is not moral. They are very keen on the true nature of things and claim to be the keepers of the original language. I have to admit that, if you manage to pronounce them, their incantations create powerful spells, almost scary powerful. Bill once did one of their summons and he managed to make a swarm of chizpurfles appear. Those are nasty bugs that live in the feathers of some magical creatures and love to eat magic and Muggle electricity. Mum and Dad were barely able to find a way of getting rid of them before they ate through their wands I think that if Bill had cast the summoning knowingly, the bugs would have destroyed anything magical in the Burrow before anyone could be able to stop them. I've only seen them angrier when Fred tried to make me do an unbreakable vow. The only thing that saved Bill was he hadn't mean it to happen."

Ginny nodded: "That one I do remember, Bill wasn't even trying to summon anything, he was just trying to figure out what language the sliver of paper he'd found in the bottom of a drawer was written in. I think he just figured out the right enunciation by chance. He has a knack for languages. Mum was madder at Dad's for keeping the parchment than at Bill. Halfway through fighting the swarm, Dad said that we were probably going to have to let the Pest Sub-Division of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures handle it. That was when Mum told Bill, Charlie, Percy and even Fred and George to roll up their sleeves, grab their wands and pitch in. Ron and I didn't have a wand yet. The bright side was that afterwards we had a lot of little shells to pick up and sell. Those are used in a lot of fancy potions and that Christmas we all had some really nice presents. I got my first Quidditch broom."

Hermione said: "I've never heard of a spell that can make so much damage without the caster meaning it. I'll have to look into that...You were telling us about the Zoroastrians' beliefs, my love."

Ron nodded: "Yeah, these guys think that words in what they call the primordial tongue have power in themselves. They also think each one of the forces has its place in the universe and that creation cannot exist without destruction. They don't talk about acting well, they talk about acting rightfully, which means acting in a way that keeps balance. Dad thinks they just use different words to say the same we do. He says the couple of Zoroastrian wizards he knows are very decent fellows. Most people don't agree with Dad. Knowing one is very rare in itself. But with Dad having worked Mysteries, you know? He knows weird folks. The Zoroastrians refuse to join most Magic conventions and they reject the Statue of Secrecy, according to their philosophy it creates imbalance. They rarely use their magic. Most are considered as holy men and are respected members of their Muggle communities. Women are almost never seen, they are all powerful seers and scryers. They call themselves The Eyes and keep themselves in high towers to be able to better sense the fabric of time and space. These gals think that time is actually space curving itself like rubber. Crazy stuff, really."

Hermione chuckled: "Some very smart Muggles think that is the case too."

"Weirdos come in all shapes, luv. A lot of those shapes are Muggles. Zoroastrians wizards leave their countries rarely and almost always prompted by something one of their The Eyes has seen. The men call themselves The Hands. The Eyes and Hands of Fate sounds really tacky but very few dare laugh at them."

Hermione frowned: "That does sound odd, but I still do not see the reason to be frightened."

Ginny said: "There are lot of misconceptions about them. But when they do leave their countries it is on what they call quests to restore the balance. They are said to have committed acts of both incredible good and acts of incredible evil during those quests and, as it is impossible to predict what brings them to your door, I'd be scared to see one too. They could do anything from slaying your baby to saving your life. Mum says one of Dad's odd friends visited while she was pregnant with Percy and that she had wanted to run to the hills the moment she saw him standing at her door. The guy just had tea, discussed something with Dad about the Order of the Phoenix and left. Mum says Dad went to report to Dumbledore what the man had said immediately and in person and that she was incredibly relieved that the guy left without doing anything but talk. Most wizards and witches don't like to mention them. They like to pretend they don't exist."

Hermione sighed despondently: "That seems to be the golden standard in the Wizarding World to pretend that anything troublesome does not exist."

The other three nodded. They had been through a war which existence was still being debated by some official circles of the wizarding society, mostly because those who had a conscience felt ashamed for doing nothing when Lord Voldemort basically took over the Magic Ministry.

Of course, a case could be made that some other people held to their alleged ignorance of the Death Eaters designs because they feared the retribution that may visit them for acting as what amounted to outright collaborators. After the war, in the name of reconciliation some had decided to put a veil of forgetfulness over a rather shameful episode in wizarding history in which they had let children fight the battles of men.

Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry all had their run-ins with people who to this date wouldn't believe a bunch of school kids had managed to defeat the most evil wizard of all. Those four knew the truth of what they had lived and had almost killed them. And, in general, that knowledge usually sufficed. They had been warriors, their battles real, they had returned home wielding their shields and the scars from them.

Even if their Ministry denied them the designation and any support related to that claim, they were veterans. They considered their dues paid. With a grace and dignity that was far beyond their years they had picked up their lives and buried their comrades to next to no fanfare. With time some people in high places had seen fit to recognize the kids from Hogwarts at least in part their efforts in defeating Lord Voldemort. They took it in stride, they weren't asking for accolades. Still, if someone insisted stubbornly and rudely they were just braggarts full of hot air, each had at times saw fit to show those people, by way of the wand even, the error of their ways.