I own nothing. Least of all this.

1:45

Next morning, same deal. Breakfast for both Hedwig and I, followed by mail call. It wasn't long before Hedwig returned with my fresh-off-the-press copy of the Daily Prophet, and I settled in to read. Thank goodness there weren't any pictures; I really didn't want to make Bumble-dore's job any easier than it had to be.

"HEIR OF RAVENCLAW AND SLYTHERIN TO TEACH AT HOGWARTS!". Humph. I could practically hear the extra exclamation marks. Figures that would be the angle Skeeter took; the name Howlfang wasn't exactly well-known. And I certainly didn't intend to let it slip to the general public about my apparently royal blood and magic. Skeeter had certainly gone all out; no embellishments, but more than enough flair for even Gilderoy Lockhart. Speaking of which, I'd definitely have to remember to do something about the fop in the future.

I sighed, and folded my paper. Time to move on to the next order of business: the Ravenclaw proxy.

"Feel free to go exploring, Hedwig. I don't anticipate being back until after lunch."

She nodded, hopped up on the windowsill, and flew off into the sky.

Just outside the Cauldron, I stuck out my (relatively) brand-new wand and waited.

*BANG!*

The Knight bus stood gleaming in front of me.

"Where to, gov?"

"Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Right, that'll be…"

I dropped the fare in his hand and swung aboard.

"…Kay then. Take her away, Ernie!"

Approximately seven minutes and one final *BANG* later, we arrived. I avoided the conductor's obvious attempts to fish for a round-trip fare, and set off in the direction of a very specific house. A tower, one might say, that looked as if it had absolutely no business still standing.

"The Rookery."

Exactly how it was supposed to look. And there out in front was the man I had seen two days before in the Alley, and who could certainly be none other than one Xenophilius Lovegood.

"You're late, you know. We should have been snapping pictures ten minutes since."

"I'm…sorry?"

"Oh, its quite alright. After all, Blubbering Humdingers always arrive precisely when they mean to, don't they?"

"…Yes, yes I suppose they do."

"Well, come on then, we've got a lot to do."

"We do?"

"Certainly. You're going to show me the Crumple-Horned Snorkack you're carrying, I'm going to pull out my camera and start snapping pictures, you're going to ask where Luna is, I'm going to reply that she's visiting young Ginevra at the Burrow, you're going to offer me the position of Ravenclaw proxy, I'm going to accept on the condition you tell me what you know of the Deathly Hallows, and then we're going to get along with the house on fire."

"…Isn't that 'like' a house on fire?"

"Not at all, you're going to help me put out the printing press after I accidentally leave it running too fast. Either that or my vat of pudding will boil over. Now, are you coming or not?"

"…I'm coming."

"Of course you are! Now, we haven't got all day, you the least of us! Allons-y!"

…I think it's safe to say I'll never, ever, be bored when dealing with a Lovegood.

And ironically enough, there actually was a fire, involving both the press and the pudding. Remind me again why the Lovegoods aren't filthy rich from betting on Quidditch?


"Lord Malfoy."

"Lord Howlfang. Or is it Ravenclaw-Slytherin?"

"Howlfang will do splendidly."

Lunch had been a rather hurried affair, consisting of fish and chips from Speedy's in London. After which, I had smoked back to my room in the Cauldron, refilled Hedwig's food and water, changed into my new dress robes, and Floo'd off to meet quite probably the second most dangerous man in England (third, if you count myself).

"An honor to make your acquaintance, Lord Malfoy."

"The honor is all mine, sir."

It was quite obvious the man had been sweating. Probably a combination of my less than friendly encounter with young Draco two days ago, as well as the morning's paper. I did so love to see bullies squirm. Not that I'd ever let that slip.

"Although I stated as much in my reply to your letter, I feel I must once again apologize on behalf of my heir. His conduct towards both you and the Heir Potter was less than becoming, and he has been properly…chastised."

"Quite alright, Lord Malfoy. I myself may not have been young for quite some time, but I well remember the…hot-headedness…that comes with youth. As they say, no harm, no foul."

"I thank you for your discretion, my Lord."

"Please Malfoy, Howlfang will suffice. Business partners should be a bit beyond titles, should they not?"

"Yesssss." He practically hissed. "Business partners. Draco communicated to me that you expressed a desire to deal with House Malfoy. I was absolutely delighted when your letter confirmed it. Please, take a seat. We have all afternoon to discuss it, after all."

I nodded, and took the offered chair in front of the fireplace (the one not for Floo'ing, obviously).

"So, what might someone such as the Lord Howlfang-Ravenclaw-Slytherin wish to do for the Magical House of Malfoy?"

I leaned backwards and brought my hands together under my chin. "To be honest, my dear Malfoy, I intend to do exactly one specific deed for you and your House. What you make of that deed, and what I make of it, is entirely up to the each of us respectively."

"…And what, pray tell, is that deed?"

"Why, I intend to make you Minister of Magic, of course."

"…Would you mind terribly if I…" He gestured towards the decanter.

"By all means."

His hands were trembling as he poured. Two glasses, each double the normal amount. He knocked back one in a single gulp, and took the other back to his seat.

"…And how, may I ask, do you propose to accomplish this feat?"

"Easily enough, Malfoy. The ruination of Fudge and his toadies (Hah! Good one, me!) has already begun. I anticipate a new Minister, no, a new Ministry by Yule this year…"

"And the methods used in said ruination?"

"Simple. You, through me, will uncover such a mountain of filth that it will bury anyone it touches, including names such as Fudge, Bagnold, Crouch, and most importantly, Dumbledore."

"…You are no friend of the Chief Warlock, then?"

"What, the infamous 'Oh Hear His Many Names And Tremble Ugh, Ugh?' I should say not. There is a very old proverb, Malfoy, that I think fits here perfectly: it is somewhat more troublesome to track and swat an evasive wasp, than it is to shoot, at close range, a wild elephant. But the elephant is more troublesome if you miss. Every threat that Dumbledore has faced has had all thee markings of a rampaging elephant, but upon closer examination, they're all proved to be mere wasps when compared to him. Even the late Master of the Dark Arts, powerful as he may have been…well, let us just say that Dumbledore is an elephant we cannot afford to miss."

"…I quite agree. How, and where, do you plan to shoot him?"

"The Potters. Specifically, the disappearance of the infamous 'Boy-Who-Lived.' Dumbledore assured the world he was perfectly safe, did he not?"

"Repeatedly."

"And yet, upon his very first visit to the magical world, is there any sign of Dumbledore or his minions? No. Three years ago, by sheer happenstance, I came across where the 'Leader-of-the-Light' had stashed his precious savior. Do you know where? With his Muggle relatives. Something I know the Potters, as less than intelligent they may have been, would have forbidden in their wills. After rescuing young Harry, with Fumble-dore none the wiser, I remind you, I went searching. Imagine my surprise when I find the wills of the Potters sealed, on the orders of a certain whiskered wanker."

"…To seal the wills of an Ancient and Noble House is…"

"The height of stupidity and arrogance, yes. Of course, he may have felt he had no other choice. I suspect that listed first as a substitute magical guardian for young Harry was the then Heir of House Black, or failing that, the House Black proxy. Convenient then, that Sirius Black is thrown into Azkaban, without a trial no less, and well-known Dumbledore stooge and friend of the Potters disappears, leaving behind merely a finger."

"…You are suggesting…"

"I suggest nothing, Malfoy. I know. It is furthermore my understanding that the Longbottoms were also on the list as possible carers for Heir Potter. Once again, a Fidelius is supposedly broken, by someone relatively high up in the Ministry."

"Crouch Junior."

"Correct. Broken, or leaked on the orders of his father and the Chief Warlock? You decide."

Malfoy swallowed the entirety of his second glass. "…What do we do?"

"I'm glad you asked. I have my lawyer digging up whatever evidence he can find. The firm of Doof and Schmirtz has yet to fail me, and when they have found me a molehill, I will make the mountain out of it."

"And you will bury the Ministry alive."

"Yes. But I need a front man to lead the charge. If there's one thing I've learned from our beloved Headmaster, it's that its devilishly hard to work from both London and Scotland."

"Quite. So, I am to be your 'front man', as you put it?"

"My dear Malfoy, which of us would the media be more willing to accept digging around in the matters of Houses Black, Potter, and Longbottom? The proxy of House Black, and possible rightful guardian of Heir Potter, or the Lord of an only recently-slash-resurrected line who may or may not have illegally moved around the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"…The whole affair in Madame Malkin's…It was staged, wasn't it?"

"For our enemies' benefit, yes. Best to let Dumbledore think he's fighting a war on two fronts: from the Dark, and from the Grey. We will be each other's front man."

"…I see."

"Yes, I thought you might. I'll have my lawyer send you what he can as soon as he acquires it. For now, I would ask only one thing in return."

"And that would be?"

"A guided tour of St. Mungos. I believe its time for the Longbottoms to give a firsthand account of what happened that night, don't you?"

"…If you can pull that off, I'll help get you into the bloody Department of Mysteries."

"My dear Malfoy, whoever said I needed help getting in there? I really must be going; I promised my lawyer an illuminating dinner tonight. Catch you on the Flip Side, Malfoy."

"…Adieu, Lord Howlfang."


"So. You're Ted's client."

"If he'll have me, Mrs. Tonks. I am a notorious nightmare to people like your husband, after all."

"And what people would that be, Lord Howlfang?"

"Why, people who play by the rules, Mrs. Tonks."

We managed straight faces for about fifteen seconds before the sniggering started. The next thing I knew we were both standing practically keeled over, howling in laughter.

"Ted! Play by! The rules! WHEEEEEEZE! What lies has he been telling! Oh, I can't breathe!"

"Neither…can I! Oh that was just priceless!"

She straightened up with a grin on her face, and stuck out her hand. "Andromeda Tonks, Lord Howlfang."

I grasped it and shook firmly. "Hadrian, oh lovely Andromeda Tonks."

"Hush you, or my husband will hear. He's a very jealous man, you know."

"Yes, I gathered as much from the photos in his office. Any doubts I might have had about his abilities disappeared on seeing a picture of you with him; after all, he has to have a few brain cells hidden in there if he could score such a fair lady as you."

"One would hope. I must apologize for my wayward daughter; she was supposed to be here, but was…" here she cast a suspicious glance upwards towards the ceiling, "…unavoidably detained."

I tsked. "Such a shame. I had hoped to meet the fair lady, and perhaps entice her to a ride on my new motorcycle after dinner. Well, I suppose I shall have to settle for enticing her equally beautiful mother."

There was a tremendous *THUMP!* from somewhere in the house.

Andromeda sighed. "Nymphadora, what have I told you about running down the stairs?"

"And what have I told you about calling me that ridiculous name? Hullo, you must be the stuck-up Dad's having for supper."

"And you must be the punk rebellious teenager that is obliged to hate her name on principle alone. Hadrian."

"Tonks."

"Really? That's the best you could come up with for a replacement? Sticking with your last name?"

"You don't like it; you give me a new one."

"Oooo, bold offer, Miss Tonks."

She started spluttering, Andromeda grinning like a Cheshire.

"But I shall do my best. Now, 'Gift of the Gods'. Bit pretentious, but lots of history behind it. How bout we do to it what needs doing to most of wizarding society; take the meaning, and match it up with something decidedly Muggle, and thus almost always improved?"

"…Go for it."

"Now, the closest I can think of is 'Samuel' which means 'Asked of God', and the female version of that is 'Samantha', so how bout we split the difference and call you Sam?"

"Hmmm. Not bad."

"Sam it is then! Oh, and sorry. I lied earlier."

"About what?"

"About the bike. I did have one. It just got…stuck."

"Stuck."

"Yeah. Stuck. In another dimension. Very wobbly, time travel is."

Nym-Sam, excuse me, blinked once. Then twice. "Time travel."

"Yepppppp."

"…You and my dad are gonna get along fine."

"I certainly hope so, Sam. Oooo! Is that Chinese I smell?"


All in all, a very successful dinner.

I had nailed each point one by one over the egg drop soup, and then piled up the evidence over the lo mein. Sam's hair must've cycled through the rainbow at least three times before I was done, and by the end even the unflappable Ted Tonks had his mouth stuck open.

"Merlin. I knew. Didn't I tell you Ted, all those years ago? Dumbledore wasn't just incompetent; he was malicious!"

"Crikey. And I've got a whole year left in Hogwarts."

"Yes, and I'm going to be stuck teaching for him for the same amount of time."

Ted unstuck his jaw. "Really? Just a year? If you can last that long, why not longer?"

"One, because there are more things in Heaven and Hell than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio. Two, because I have it on very good advice from a future version of myself not to stay longer than that. And three, I have some very worried friends in another world to get back to eventually."

Andromeda nodded. "Well, when you put it that way…"

"Hold up, is no one going to point out the bit where he got advice in the past from the future?"

"Why, you worried about the legality?"

"Merlin, no! How on Earth did you manage it without creating a paradox?"

Sam mouthed a silent "Told you so."

"Well Mr. Tonks, most people think that Time is a strict progression from cause to effect, but actually, its more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly…timey wimey…stuff."

Andromeda's eyes glistened. "Started out well, that sentence."

"It…got away from me, yeah."

"Always nice to see a fellow Doctor Who fan."

"Oh, yes. I've met him. The real one, not the TV one. His chin almost put my eye out."

"The Eleventh Doctor? You've met him?"

"Of course. Who else would I go on Time-related hijinks with?"

"…Fair point."

We stayed around that table well into the night, discussing anything and everything, and when we were finally done, I had a lawyer who would go to Hell itself to bring down Dumbledore, a proxy to sit the Howlfang seat, and best of all, an ally in the school year to come and beyond. The fact that my leather coat kept drawing intense glances from Sam had absolutely nothing to do with it, I'm sure.


"Narcissa?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"It appears I have made an error. If I had not accepted the guilt of one Sirius Black without question, and conducted even the pittance of an investigation into the matter, the Boy-Who-Lived may very well have grown up with our Draco."

"…Oh dear."

"Quite. We shall play Lord Howlfang's game, dear. And in the end, who knows? Perhaps our true Lord will rise again, with new powerhouses backing him, wearing the names of Potter, Black, Longbottom, Howlfang, Ravenclaw, and most importantly, Slytherin."

"…Yes, my lord."