After a week in Gettysburg, Kate had everyone under her thumb. She would work Buy Bell Book & Candle whenever she wanted, considering that Professor Snape was deathly afraid of the Mustang, she could head off in it and expect not to be bothered. Things seemed to be settling into an acceptable routine. The ghosts made themselves scarce around her friends; only Major Rhys would come to the old farmstead without any apprehension.

The ghosts. Kate felt as though she were neglecting them. Oftentimes, she would run off for a couple hours, either in the Mustang or on Traveller, and visit with the battlefield spirits who had been her first friends and companions. Orion, her faithful shadow was with her at all times. It was a common sight to those who cared to pay attention: A slender figure with dark hair piled into a ponytail, clad in a tank top and jeans, striding through the tall grasses, a small dark figure trotting beside her. Some thought her a tourist; others thought she was a park ranger's daughter. Some, on hazy twilights, swore she herself was a spirit.

Once, Harry followed her under his Invisibility Cloak. He watched her get into the trunk; she got out a bucket, a wooden ladle, and three jugs of spring water. Kate lugged her cargo through the gate to the Triangular field. Harry felt the wind rise, but ignored it as Kate moved further into the field. Nothing seemed to deter her from her charge. Nearing the tree line, he saw her look up. The woods were eerily bright. Nodding to the blurry images just behind the veiling foliage, she bent and began her ritual. She needed no cameras or video to see the orbs dancing. Harry nearly fell when he saw what was happening. She filled the pail to the brim with the water. Next she dipped the ladle in. They were clearing the tree line. She turned and walked away calmly, collectedly. When she had passed the gate, she looked back. The spirits had taken form and were surrounding the bucket, dipping the ladle and drinking thirstily.

"Come on Harry. I'm done." She said, and walked back to the Mustang. She smiled at the ghosts waving at her, and made a quick salute in return. She ambled back down the path to Devil's Den, Harry trailing behind her. Winding her way around the boulders, Kate stooped to collect Orion into her arms. The black cat wasn't overly fond of going into the Triangular Field; the specters there were not the most friendly of the spirit folk. Though they all adored Kate, they tolerated few others. Orion was not one of those favored few. Harry sat shotgun, Orion on his lap.

"Why did you do that, Kate? Give them water?" Harry asked, his voice almost lost in the wind created by the convertible.

She didn't answer him immediately, and when she did, her voice was soft and serious, "On July 2, 1863, most of those spirits went directly into battle after a forced march. They sent some men to fill their canteens, but were sent into battle before they could get their water. Most of those men didn't make it back to claim their canteens. I bring them water as much as I can. It eases their restlessness. There are fewer frights amongst the Muggles when I do this, and there are fewer occasions of unpleasant things happening in the Triangular field. I do it so they can have some sense of repose. To ease that endless suffering." That is why I do it." The rest of the drive to Cannon Hill was spent in silence. Harry was almost afraid to ask Kate anymore questions, and Kate seemed disinclined to talk to him.

Cannon Hill was, as always, a warm and inviting sight. It wasn't a manor, per say, but it was a cozy farmhouse, built in the Pennsylvania style. With a native stone foundation, it presented a serene slate gray exterior to the world. Two Napoleon howitzers graced the front yard, which was also strewn with boulders. There was a stable on the lower slope of the hill, graced with apple trees, laden with green fruit. Behind that, the drive extended to the garage, roomy enough for Kate's Mustang, Sirius's motorbike, as well as various odds and ends mechanical things.

Up on the crest of the hill, behind the enormous farmhouse, an enormous garden spread like a carpet of exotic flowers and herbs. One flower ruled supreme, the rose. There were so many as to intoxicate the senses in June. Nearly every proper shade a rose ought to be, and none holding that sickly sweet scent of old fashioned Muggle roses. There was even a rare New Moon blue rose bush, lovingly cared for by Gwen and Kate. But many other flowers bloomed in the sun's golden light in that garden. Lavender for luck, hyacinth and lilac, Queen Anne's Lace, heartsease and narcissus, even a plot dedicated to the bane of every lawn, dandelion. Flowers magical and non-magic, in every color of the rainbow. Beyond the flowers was the herb garden, pungent and inviting. Chamomile grew there, as well as mints of every variety; cooking herbs and potions herbs. Herbs for teas and tisanes. There was a small greenhouse behind it all, which held the poisonous plants. The cats ruled at Cannon Hill, and so the greenhouse was as far from the curious creatures as possible. Here bloomed Aconitum napellus, Nerium oleander, Atropha belladonna, Artemisia absinthium, and Convallaria majalia. The raw poisons in each plant were enough to kill a strong man. Snape had taken one look at the greenhouse and fallen in love.