Disclaimer – I should have said this before but these are not my characters or world, etc, no money being made, etc, etc, please don't sue.

0o0o0o0

There was the sound of a key in the lock and both Harry and Zoe looked up from their books, watching to see who it was, though the number of people who had keys to the house were small.

Ben entered, looking grim and over tired and Harry kissed Zoe on the cheek and got up to meet his friend.

"Lizzie is asleep," Harry told him, "I'll heat your dinner up while you look in on her if you like."

"I'd marry you if you weren't already taken," Ben smiled, though there was little humour in it.

"I'm up for a threesome," Zoe called from the couch and won a short chuckle before Ben mounted the stairs. Harry shared a look with his wife and sighed as he started the microwave. The house wasn't usually locked up like this, but violent death had visited the village and until the crime was solved, people were taking more precautions. Mr Baker, or Paddy as he was now affectionately known, called Harry once he got home safely in the evening and Zoe or Harry called Graeme before they went to bed to ensure he was still ok as well.

The microwave dinged and Harry pulled the plate out, carrying it with cutlery to the table. Ben came down the stairs and got himself a drink of water before sitting at the table with a sigh.

"Alright, mate?" Harry asked sympathetically and got an apathetic nod. Division had sent a detective sergeant to the village to investigate, however the man was very condescending about the rural area and had made more than one gaffe – half the village was convinced he was an idiot and the other half had an even lower opinion of him. This left Ben in a bad position as he tried to get the information needed to catch the killer while working to keep people calm.

This meant that Lizzie was not seeing a lot of her dad – a name she had christened Ben with just before Harry's wedding and used without thought now. Harry and Zoe had agreed to take over the full load of parenting for the little girl while Ben was called away to investigate as his hours had become very unpredictable and quite long each day.

Zoe said it was good training for when they had one of their own, a sentiment that Harry quietly agreed with.

The landline rang and Zoe got up to answer it, waving Harry to stay with Ben. Harry talked while his friend ate, telling him about the things Lizzie had said and done. In the background, Zoe answered the phone and the tone of her voice drew both men's attention. She was headed towards them with the cordless phone, something in her expression chilling them both.

"Grandad saw someone in his garden," Zoe said breathlessly, "He called the station and Constable Peterson agreed to come have a look. He can see the police car, but not the Constable."

"I'm on my way, stay on the phone with him," Ben jumped up, and Harry went with him, knowing that sending only one person was a fool's game.

"Zoe, call my mobile," Harry grabbed it from the charger and ran out a step behind Ben, who gave him a long look but didn't say anything as he settled into the passenger seat. Zoe called and Harry answered, keeping the phone to his ear as Ben peeled out of the driveway and called for a response from Constable Peters. After five minutes, that changed to a call for back up from the division headquarters along with an ambulance.

Constable Peterson was not far from the car. He was quite dead. Harry stayed with Ben while he cleared the area, ensuring his friend was not the next victim and then went in to Graeme when the called for backup arrived. Graeme was packing a bag, his eyes quite bleak. Harry reassured Zoe that they would be home soon and then called for a taxi to take them back to the barn.

"If I hadn't called him…" Graeme sighed and Harry shook his head, interrupting the older man firmly.

"You could be dead instead Grandad," Harry said quietly, "Thinking like that will get you nowhere. It's a circular trap that leads to pain and despair."

He'd certainly learned that the hard way himself and while he'd never explained any of his history to Graeme the older man had been supportive of him whenever he'd had what Zoe called a 'moment', trapped in the past by his regrets and memories. The quiet authority in his voice reached the older man now and Graeme nodded, squaring his shoulders and closing the bag.

There was a knock at the door, which was Ben, also looking grim.

"Graeme, your taxi is here. We'll be sending someone behind you to get a statement. The whole garden is a crime scene, so it will be a while until you can come back."

"I'm coming to Zoe and Harry's," Graeme nodded, "Zoe insisted."

"So do I," Harry took the bag from his Grandad, "You may never move out again."

The 'threat' won a rueful laugh and they walked quickly through the house, making sure it was shut up properly. Harry didn't relax until they were safely home again.

0o0o0o0

"Benjamin Parker killed his mother?" Zoe blinked in astonishment at Ben, who nodded sadly, "But she was a harmless, sweet old lady. She barely had two pennies to rub together, but she never complained about it. Half of my staff do her gardening and I know for a fact that there are other people in the village who turn out to help with cleaning in the house and running errands for her."

"Apparently she was married to a man who made a small fortune in a less than legal manner. When he died the money went into a trust for her, and then Benjamin would get it when she passed away. She refused to touch it though and the payments from the trust went to a charity in Britain that supports victims of violent crime. Benjamin apparently objected to this and was trying to get the money himself. When he couldn't break the trust legally, he decided to remove his mother from the picture," Ben shook his head, "It's a complete mess."

"Why did he attack Constable Peterson?" Graeme asked from where he was gathered at the table with them all. Harry was wondering this too.

"He didn't," Ben replied, "When the Constable was attacked, Benjamin was in London, locked up for drunk and disorderly after a footy match he'd attended. He couldn't have hurt poor Peter."

Peter Peterson had borne a lot of teasing about his name, but he'd been a good kid, fresh out of probation and taking a keen interest in his first posting and the people he was policing. Everyone had liked him; he'd even been around to the Sunday dinners that Harry still hosted. With his death a contingent of Scotland Yard detectives had descended on the village, sending the 'idiot from division' back to his Inspector with a very bad report of his investigation. Ben had fared better, as it was his work that had put them onto Benjamin Parker and his murderous ways. In the week since Mrs Parker's death a lot had happened to their usually quiet village.

"So, you're still looking for Peter's killers?" Zoe sighed, "His poor mother."

"We are," Ben confirmed, "But there are some leads on that too. We'll have to be patient. And not a word about Parker, please. I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"We won't," Zoe murmured, then raised her voice, "And what are you doing up, young lady?"

Lizzie hesitated on the bottom step, her bare feet poking out from under the hem of her nightie.

"I wanted to say goodnight to dad," she hopped off the bottom step and pattered across to give Ben a hug. Ben gave in to the shameless play for attention, as he hadn't had a lot of time with her this week at all. He hauled her up into his arms, getting up off the bench as well.

"I'll read you a story and then you'll go back to sleep, that's an order," he hugged her close and then headed for the stairs. Graeme sighed and got up too, stretching his back and reaching for the empty mugs.

"While I am enjoying my visit," he smiled at them both, "I am also looking forward to getting back to the house."

"Hear that Harry, our hospitality is lacking," Zoe laughed, "I told you we should be serving breakfast in bed."

"Tomorrow," Harry nodded semi jokingly. Zoe would likely bung a slice of toast and cup of tea on a tray and take it upstairs tomorrow, if only to make Graeme laugh. Peter's death still worried at him.

As it was, they didn't get a chance to play their practical joke as there was a knock on the front door early next morning as the household was just beginning to stir. There were police cars in the drive, and Harry hurried down to answer the door while Zoe went upstairs to wake Ben.

Graeme was coming down the stairs as Harry led the two Scotland Yard inspectors in and was startled to discover that it was him they were coming to see.

"Inspector Rogers and Inspector Bellings, what can I do for you?" he asked, glancing hopefully at the kettle as he did. Harry promptly switched it on and started pulling out mugs for tea.

"We were wanting to ask you about some antiques in your house," Bellings informed Graeme, who waved them to a seat at the table as Ben and Zoe joined them downstairs. There were several pieces of furniture in Graeme's house that qualified as antiques simply because they'd come with the house several generations ago and had been taken care of. Harry had polished and restored several tables, a desk, three chairs and a rather fine dresser over the years at Graeme's request and under Paddy's strict supervision.

"Which ones?" Graeme asked as Harry and Zoe began ferrying mugs and the over large family teapot that they had bought on their honeymoon to the table. Bellings and Rogers both looked grateful for the mugs of tea shoved in their direction and Ben settled with his with a frown.

"The Purdy's," Bellings replied.

"The guns?" Zoe sounded startled, and so was Harry. He hadn't known that Graeme kept guns, "But they were decommissioned ages ago, weren't they? You had a gunsmith remove the firing pins, or whatever shotguns have that makes them go bang."

"I did indeed," Graeme nodded, "They were given to my grandfather as a gift. The family history says that the Earl who gave him the land had a rival in the area who liked to make a point of … well, everything really. When my grandfather received the land and the cottage from the Earl, Lord Bessington sent the shotguns as a gift as well. They're very fine examples apparently, and my Grandfather and Father both used them for hunting. I took them to London when I inherited them. There's a gunsmith in Chelsea that decommissioned them for me – I have all the paperwork for it – and every other year I take them back to be cleaned and cared for. We may not be shooters ourselves, but I don't want them rusting away. I keep them locked up and out of sight. There's no ammunition in the house, and the bits that were removed are locked away separately in the family safe."

"Have you ever shown them to anyone?" Rogers asked and Graeme shook his head. Harry could vouch for that; he hadn't even known they existed.

"I took them to be cleaned and serviced while Harry and Zoe were on their honeymoon, but the only people who saw them were at the gunsmiths. I recall there was someone a few years ago rather interested in purchasing them, but I couldn't sell them. They're part of the family history," Graeme shrugged, "They'll come to Zoe one day. Should she want to sell them, that is of course her decision. As to how valuable they are, I couldn't tell you."

"A matched set like that, in such exceptional condition, would come to about fifty thousand pounds," Rogers informed them, "Even decommissioned as they are – because you still have the parts. And the case you carry them in is original and in immaculate condition too. It seems that your prowler was after the guns. Constable Peterson knew him, unfortunately, and was therefore killed in an effort to keep your prowler's identity secret."

"But how do you know that?" Zoe frowned, "Have you caught him?"

"Last night," Bellings nodded, "He came back for another go. He's not local, so he wasn't aware that you were out of your house until last night Mr Oakden. We caught him in the act."

Ben was frowning pretty fiercely, and Harry sighed, wondering why his friend hadn't been included in the arrest. Rogers, who was apparently more empathic than Harry had previously given him credit for, turned to Ben and raised a placating hand.

"We haven't excluded you Sargent, at least not on purpose. I recognised a face on the street last night from London and we set up a watch quietly. I may have been wrong, after all, so there was no need to call you in. We arrested him in the middle of the night and Bellings and I are more than capable of running an interview," he informed Ben, who nodded politely.

"We'll need to see the paperwork on the guns, Mr Oakden," Bellings said, "And information on the gunsmith who does the maintenance for you."

"Of course," Graeme nodded, "I'll get dressed and fetch it straight away."

"Have breakfast first, sir," Rogers grinned, "Bellings and I intend to go eat and wash up first if you don't mind. It's been a long night. If you come to the house at nine, we'll meet you there."

Harry got up to start breakfast for the household and Ben showed his colleagues out.

"Thank god that's all over," Zoe muttered as she cleared Bellings and Rogers mugs to the sinks. Harry nodded and pulled her in for a kiss. The whole village had been on edge, not just the members of his chosen family. It would be great to see things return to normal now.

0o0o0o0

Although Harry was no longer ranked as an apprentice, Paddy still outranked him in their craft, which meant that Paddy continued to supervise the winter markets from the pub. Harry was working on his final masters' piece now, but he had a feeling that Paddy would always be able to claim superiority due to age and that meant the winter markets would always be Harry's responsibility. The summer markets were Paddy's duty, though Harry often helped out there as well – at least it was warm then.

He didn't mind. Over the years he'd gotten to know a lot of people who he wouldn't usually meet in the course of his life. His pencil cases – the wooden boxes with a sliding lid that he assembled without screws and nails – had become a sought-after commodity for families with children starting kindergarten, and stocking fillers at Christmas. Every year the village market attracted tourists and visitors from all over the county. They'd even had a few overseas visitors come through as well.

Which was why he was so startled when he looked up from selling one of the travelling desks that he based on the one he'd restored a few years ago to see Dudley Dursley staring at him from where he stood by the quilt stand. Dudley was still a bit big, but he'd trimmed down a lot from the small whale he'd been as a child. He was wearing sensible clothing, good quality but not the poorly maintained designer gear he'd insisted on as a teen. The expression on his face was that of a man who had seen a ghost and Harry was really hoping he didn't start shouting about magic or the usual epithets that had come Harry's way.

Instead Dudley hurried over towards him, coming around behind the stall and engulfed Harry in an enormous (and unprecedented) hug. Harry had become accustomed to hugs a little at Hogwarts, Hermione had been a hugger and Ron would throw an arm around his shoulders now and then, but Zoe had taught him the power of a good hug when they'd gotten together. So, it was sort of a reflex to put his arms around Dudley's shoulders and hug back.

"I thought you were dead," Dudley muttered, "I was so sure we'd never see you alive again. They didn't care of course but … I am so sorry Harry."

"It's ok," was Harry's stunned response and then he tightened his grip, "Dudley, it's ok. You were still a kid…"

"So were you," Dudley replied. He was starting to sound distraught, which Harry didn't want at all, "And I was so awful back then."

"It's ok Dudders," Harry sighed, "Neither one of us was equipped to deal with everything that went on. Even your parents weren't really."

"Are you ok though?" Dudley drew back and looked at Harry closely, "Really ok?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "Really ok. I'm learning a great trade, I married a wonderful lady, we have our first baby on the way. Life is peaceful."

Dudley grinned, not the usual malice filled grin Harry was used to seeing directed at him either.

"That's so good," he sighed.

"Tea," Zoe's voice sounded behind them, and Harry turned to see her standing behind them, two steaming cups of tea in her hand. He grinned at her and reached out a hand for one of the cups.

"Zoe this is my cousin Dudley, Dudley this is Zoe Potter."

"Hi Dudley," Zoe held out a hand to shake, a bit of reserve in her eyes. Harry had never really come out and said the Dursley's were bad at raising kids, but certainly there was enough unsaid for her to pick up on.

"Hi Zoe," Dudley shook her hand carefully. Like she'd snap if he touched her too roughly. Harry grinned: she was the least breakable person he'd ever met. Not that he didn't take care of her whenever he could – it was just that she took equal care of him. Now she slotted herself against his side effortlessly, a warm and welcome reminder of the life that they had built together.

"So, what are you doing now, Dudley?" Harry asked, cradling the tea between cold hands. There was a lull in customers at the moment – most people were also seeking refreshment at this point.

"I went to Uni and got my teachers degree," Dudley grinned, "Secondary school of all things. I also did a psychology degree and work in counselling. I met my fiancé through work – she's a social worker. She's over there looking at the quilts, but to be honest I was looking for a distraction when I saw your stall, and then you Harry."

"Not a fan of textiles?" Zoe smiled and Dudley shook his head ruefully.

"I don't know, I think the flock of birds pattern this year is particularly striking," Harry teased and Dudley's eyes bugged at him for a moment before his cousin laughed.

"And your parents are well?" Zoe continued the polite conversation effortlessly. Dudley put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Well enough," he hedged, "They don't have a lot to do with me to be honest. We fell out over me not joining Gunning's with dad, and they don't like Patrice much either. Think she's a bit of a hippy to be honest."

"I am a bit of a hippy to be honest," said a cheerful voice behind him and Harry did his best not to gawp at the purple haired, nose pierced plump lady that came up to Dudley and stuck a hand in his pocket. Her other was occupied with a bulging bag from which a quilt peeked out.

"Nothing wrong with that," Zoe enjoined and the two women grinned at each other.

"Have you got some paper in that bag?" Dudley asked Patrice, "I want to give Harry my details. We should stay in touch."

"I'd like that," Harry grinned and put his tea down. There were business cards on the table and he picked one up, handing it to Patrice with a wink, "He was forever losing stuff when we were kids, so hang onto this, yeah?"

"Oh god, he hasn't got any better," Patrice laughed, "He lost the house keys the other day – turned the place upside down for hours, turned out they were in the door all the time!"

Dudley blushed, but didn't dispute the claim, giving a shamefaced grin instead. Zoe laughed as well, waved to them both and headed back to her own stall.

"I'll see you around Dudley," Harry promised, and his cousin looked relieved. They'd probably never be best friends, but Harry was in a place now where he could afford to get to know his cousin as an adult. He had little enough blood family as it was, though the birth of their baby would change that next year.

A group of people wandered to the front of the stall, and Harry redirected his attention to his customers, tucking the unexpected encounter away for now. He made a mental note to find out if Dudley and Patricia drank – he'd started distilling his own apple brandy from the apple tree in the garden and last years batch had come out exceptionally well. It would make a decent Christmas present.

0o0o0o0

Having two toddlers in the house meant early mornings, and with a baby added as well, sleep ins were a thing of the past. However, today was Zoe's birthday, so Harry was doing the best he could to let her sleep. Rowan, their eldest, was currently reading a picture book, firmly ensconced in Harry's favourite armchair overlooking the vegetable patch. Willow, their middle child, was colouring in at the coffee table in the TV nook and the baby, Ash, was rolling around trying to catch his toes on the thick blanket Harry had put down for that exact purpose. Harry was sitting on the floor with the baby, admiring Willow's purple cat whenever she held it up to show her progress. She appeared to be intent on adding wings to it – Harry wasn't sure why the cat had to fly, but as long as his daughter was happy with the picture, he wasn't going to ask.

"Uncle Ben's here!" Rowan exclaimed from his chair, having a good view of the driveway from where he was sitting, and the boy wiggled down to head for the front door. Ben had been recruited by Scotland Yard not long after the death of Constable Peterson and moved to London with Lizzie, who loved living in the big city. They stayed in touch, talking to each other daily as Lizzie had adopted Harry and Zoe as much as she had Ben, and weekend visits like this one were pretty common.

Zoe came down the stairs as Ben swung Rowan up and flew him around, and Harry smiled at his wife. She was as beautiful as the day he'd met her, in his unbiased opinion, only more so.

"Happy birthday love," he said from the floor and was soundly kissed.

"Thanks for the sleep in," she grinned and hugged Willow good morning, then turned to greet their guests.

"Hullo Lizzie from London," Harry grinned as she came to say hello and tickle the baby's feet, "How was the train trip?"

"Hi Uncle Harry," Lizzie kissed his cheek and sat down beside him, "It was ok. Dad thinks he spotted a criminal."

"Always on duty Ben," Zoe laughed, and Ben huffed at them all.

"He probably wasn't a criminal, he just looked familiar in a vague sort of way. After a while though, every stranger looks familiar in a vague sort of way, so…" Ben shrugged. Zoe went to put the kettle on and Ben went to admire the purple cat, which now had orange stripes and lime green spots on its wings.

"Well we can cross artist off the list for Willow," Zoe muttered as Harry joined her in the kitchen, leaving Lizzie to sit with Ash. He laughed and shook his head, fishing ingredients out to make breakfast for her.

"She's a bit young to have a career mapped out for her, hon."

"Never too young to start, Harry," Zoe replied lightly, "And given that it's nearly lunch time, tea will do for breakfast."

"I'll get started then," Harry replied, "I know my place is in the kitchen."

"And don't you forget it," his wife informed him solemnly, then kissed him again.

"Ewwww," Rowan and Willow chorused from their respective spots in the house, which made their parents laugh.

Graeme was expected for lunch, so Harry wasn't too surprised when their Grandad came over an hour later. He was surprised that there was a man with him, a few years older than Zoe and with the same black curly hair. He was neatly dressed in leather shoes, trousers and a shirt – he'd made an effort to be presentable at least.

"Adam!" Zoe exclaimed in shock, and if Harry was any judge of her tone, with some misgiving, "This is a surprise!"

"Hullo sis, happy birthday," Adam replied. The hug that followed was a bit awkward, but Harry just shared a long look with Ben and stepped forward to be introduced. This was the person that Ben had found vaguely familiar on the train, then. Ben grinned when he was named 'brother in law' and the kids said hello to the new uncle curiously. Adam had a small birthday gift in his jacket pocket, a silver bracelet which Zoe thanked him for readily enough. The timer in the kitchen went off and Harry moved to get the lamb roast out of the oven before it got too dry.

"Grandad said you're having lunch," Adam hesitated, "I don't want to intrude, I just was going to say hello and go. If it's ok though, I'll come back and visit with you some time?"

"There's always room for one more. Harry cooks as if he's feeding an army," Zoe told her brother, "Stay for lunch."

So, Adam stayed, sitting beside Graeme with Ben on the other side, watching for the most part as the family entered into their usual lunchtime discussions. Ben shared that he was up for promotion again, and was soundly congratulated by all. Lizzie told them about the school choir performing in the London Eisteddfod. Rowan told them about the tree he and his best friend at playschool had climbed and how Timmy had ripped his shirt on a branch.

Desert was ice cream, as Zoe didn't bake on her birthday and then Willow and Rowan headed outside into the spring sunshine to show Lizzie the new treehouse Harry had built from scrap wood for them. Zoe took Ash upstairs for a nap while Harry and Ben cleaned the kitchen. They'd do presents and cake for afternoon tea, an established tradition, and in the meantime, Harry made a pot of tea for everyone to share and they all trooped out to sit in the sunshine while the children played.

Adam, it turned out, had left the commune at the age of eighteen, when he met and fell for a girl who was working at the local vet's office on her first trainee placement. She had accompanied the vet to the routine inspection of the commune's herd of goats, cows and pigs – even the commune had to show that their animals were healthy and up to date with the mandatory health measures required by the local council and Ministry of Ag. Bradley and Yolanda had tried to suggest that Adam get the young trainee, by name of Gwen, to give up her university and join the commune instead.

Adam had decided he'd rather leave the commune, and the name Starshine, behind. He followed her to Cardiff and got a job stacking shelves at ASDA. Gwen had suggested online schooling to bridge any gaps in his education and he had enrolled in some maths courses.

"I always liked math the best," Adam had shrugged at this point in his tale, "I thought that maybe I could get a job working with it in some way."

He ended up doing some accounting courses as well, and the legal side of things had been unexpectedly interesting, so he'd trained and now worked as a forensic accountant. Gwen had graduated and had been working in Cardiff as a vet full time, and they were living together. Eventually Adam had been offered a really good job in London and Gwen had been able to find a position in a well-known animal hospital as well. Adam and Zoe's parents had cut all contact by that point. The other eight half brothers and sisters had never been close to Adam, and Zephyr had left the commune when she was only sixteen without looking back at all. Zoe had never met Zephyr, the daughter her parents had to 'replace' her after leaving her with Graeme and Cecilia.

"She emails sometimes, though, she's working in Manchester, in a book shop," Adam shrugged, "She always loved to read, so as long as she's happy, yeah?"

His listeners had nodded and made agreeing noises, which seemed to satisfy him. Adam and Gwen had decided to marry recently, and it was at Gwen's suggestion that Adam was seeking them out now. He had no intention of inviting the commune family to the wedding, but wanted to get in touch with his Grandfather and Sister again, to have them at the wedding and have some contact with them once more.

"I was devastated to move away," he told Graeme, "I couldn't understand why we'd left you and Granny behind, and why Zoe wasn't with us anymore. I kept asking for you all, until they made it very clear that I was being bad and had to stop. They changed my name and we lived in this grubby place, with strangers who were a bit weird. The only good thing about it was that the local Inspector made sure that the kids at the commune went to the local school. The village kids were a bit suspicious of us, but I made a couple of friends and I think that was what really kept me grounded."

Harry could understand that – though he'd not had any real friends at primary school, he at least had the lessons and the adults to keep him steady. And Ron and Hermione had made sure he didn't get all big headed either. So, for that matter, had Draco in his own obnoxious way.

Neither Zoe or Graeme seemed ready to throw all caution to the wind and embrace Adam the forensic accountant wholeheartedly, but neither were they throwing him from the house. Adam hadn't had a choice in the matter of moving, and Graeme had raised Zoe to be fair minded and forgiving, which meant that he also had to live by that creed.

It was decided that Adam should come back one weekend that suited them with Gwen to get to know the family better and Zoe gave him the family contact details so they could stay in touch in the meantime. Harry declared it time for afternoon tea and presents, and Zoe went to fetch Ash from his nap while Graeme and Harry prepped the birthday cake and biscuits.

0o0o0o0

"What are you doing?" Harry chuckled as Zoe started rifling through his trouser pockets, "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but I do need to get this stuff into the fridge before it melts."

"Where's your wallet? Ah ha!" Zoe fished the canvas wallet Harry had bought all those years ago from his pocket. It had been fixed with gaffer tape at one point and the Velcro no longer worked, but Harry didn't mind.

"I bought you a new wallet this morning, while you were in the butchers," Zoe informed him, "It is time to retire the wallet of shame."

Harry laughed and went back to putting away the shopping while Zoe sat at the kitchen table to empty his old wallet and transfer his cards and things to the new one. As she did, she kept up a running commentary of how many expired vouchers were in there, how many expired membership cards and…

"What is this?" she sounded genuinely startled and Harry put the packets of pasta down and went to have a look. It was a business card, with Blaketon and Associates on the front, along with their address, "Is this a handwritten business card? And who are Blaketon and Associates?"

"I'd meant to chuck that out," Harry breathed, looking at the card the Goblin had given him when he'd closed his school vault. He'd tucked it into his wallet and then forgotten it was there, "It has an appointment on the back for a date after my 25th birthday. When I was last in contact with the magical world, this was handed to me along with a bank slip and I forgot all about it."

Zoe flipped the card over to have a look. Harry was well past his 25th birthday now, and a father of four, soon to be five. Willow remained their sole daughter, though Zoe thought this baby would be a girl too. Robin had arrived on New Year's Eve in the middle of a snowstorm. Harry had delivered the baby himself in the kitchen as Zoe's labour had progressed too quickly for them to drive to the hospital. The ambulance had arrived only minutes after Robin, delayed by the severity of the storm. This baby was due at the end of Autumn and Harry had already solemnly informed his wife that his days as a midwife were over. She had informed him just as solemnly that she would also prefer a professional at the next birth thank you very much.

On the back of the card the original appointment was crossed out, and a new appointment for each of the following years had been added, then also crossed out as Harry failed to appear. He admired the spell work that had been put into the card and glanced at the date for this year's appointment. It was for a date when they would be in London, a point that was not lost on Zoe.

"How do they add appointments to the card if you've forgotten you have it?" Zoe asked, and Harry shrugged. He could think of two ways to do it, though one involved a lot of fuss and bother.

"Probably through a spell that links their appointment book to the business card. Each change to a client's entry that they make in the book is also made to the card," he mused, "That would be the easiest way to do it."

"We should accept the appointment and see what they want," Zoe looked up at him, "We'll be in London anyway for the Thing, which is the day before, then we can do this the day after. We were planning a holiday in the countryside anyway, and Grandad has the kids for that whole week."

The Thing was Zoe's upcoming appearance at Buckingham Palace, by Royal request, to receive a knighthood, or in her case, Dame Commander of the British Empire for her services to British biodiversity and conservation and preservation of the natural world. She would be joining the ranks of knights and dames in the Order of Bath, a discretionary title. It was a big deal and the entire family were desperately proud of her. Zoe was mortified that her work was being recognised in such a way and had requested that no fuss be made whatsoever. Graeme had therefore arranged to move into the house and watch the children for a week while Zoe and Harry went to London and then on to a holiday. At six months pregnant, Harry was primarily concerned with keeping Zoe happy and spoiling her as much as she allowed. Which, at the end of the day, was not much.

Zoe rummaged in the dining room table drawer, came up with a pen, and after a moment of hesitation, put a neat tick next to the most recent appointment. Harry watched as curiously as his wife to see if there was a response, and when nothing happened, she shrugged and tucked it into his new wallet.

The next day an owl arrived at breakfast time, to the delight and fascination of the children. It was a medium sized brown speckled owl, which delivered the elegant envelope clutched in its talons by swooping in through the glass doors leading to the back garden, which Harry had pushed open to take advantage of the spring sunshine.

"Owl!" Ash exclaimed, pointing while baby Robin waved his cereal laden spoon around and Rowan and Willow jumped up from their seats.

"Yes, it is," Zoe replied calmly, and guided the half empty spoon to Robin's mouth, casting a sour glance at the scattered half of the spoons contents, which had gone all over the floor, "Sit down, you two, it's for your dad."

Which went to show how much Harry had mentioned about magic in passing over their years together. Zoe was pretty unflappable when it came to unexpected little bursts of magic from the children, though the t-shirt-that-now-changed-colour was folded in the back of her drawer and had never been worn again. Harry had been given plenty of practice in reverting magical outbursts, and the children had all been taught from an early age that it was a family secret and Not To Be Mentioned in public ever. Who knew what they would do when Rowan reached the age of eleven and had to be separated from his best friend Timmy in order to attend Hogwarts. The boys were inseparable. They had some time to work on that problem though.

Harry accepted the envelope, offered the owl both water and a bit of sausage from his plate (Zoe had been craving the full English Breakfast experience lately, and Harry had indulged her) and then watched it swoop back out of the window. He tucked the envelope away to read after the morning school and preschool run. Robin would be attending work with his mother this morning as she supervised the monthly account balancing and organised a reworking of several of the greenhouses in the nursery to better accommodate plants from the conservatory that was in the North of England. It was there that she did her government sponsored work on the biodiversity projects, grew saplings for the reforestation projects and had reworked her thesis into a second edition that a few of the European Universities had added to their reading lists, along with the horticulture textbook she'd written. There was also a gardening manual about to be published, aimed at the lay person. Zoe was going to finalise the details of that on the Monday before her palace appointment on Tuesday. The appointment with Blaketon and Associates was on Wednesday, and there was a tentative booking in the Bath district also on Wednesday for a four-day holiday. They'd drive home on Sunday and relieve Graeme of his grandchildren sitting duties, something he was looking forward to immensely.

Harry and Paddy had just finished a large run of commissions and Paddy was planning to spend some time with Graeme and the children as well, for a mini 'stay-cation' of his own. He was then heading off to Africa to see his son, during which time it was school holidays and Harry planned to spend most of his days with the children. Everyone would be back at school, preschool or day care by the time Zoe started her maternity leave and Harry would be working full time then. The bonus of being self-employed was that they were able to schedule around major life events, providing they were careful with their income management.

"Are you going to read your letter, Daddy?" Willow asked, which meant she wanted to know what was in the letter and was angling for information. She was a very curious child. It made Christmas an interesting challenge.

"Not at the moment, Willow," Harry replied, "I'll wait until everyone is at school."

Willow pouted for a moment, until Zoe asked if she was ready for school. They shared an amused look as the eldest two took their plates to the kitchen and Harry gave Ash his to take as well once the child was safely on the ground. Of their four, Ash was the clumsiest, but he never seemed to mind the bumps and tumbles he took, springing back up happily enough even if he had hurt himself. He was the best of the children at repair spells for precisely this reason. Harry got up and took the rest of the various breakfast things into the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher while the children got their bags, put on shoes and generally bustled about in the pre-school run mayhem they liked to call a routine. Wiping down the mess that Robin had made while Zoe took the baby upstairs to get dressed, Harry grinned at the noise and confusion. It was no worse than the first years getting ready in the first few weeks of their first term, and he enjoyed the liveliness of the house.

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