Mary Minor Haristeen, known to her friends as "Harry", was doing her job – sweeping the post office and catching up on the gossip. The youngest postmistress in Crozet's history, her main duties were to distribute the mail and to distribute the news.

"And the poor man was so drunk, Mim had to lend him a room for the night," said her companion, Mrs. Hogendobber. "If only Sam would come to the Church of the Holy Light, I'm sure that – "

"Yes, Miranda," said Harry.

"Are you interrupting me?"

"Yes, Miranda."

Mrs. Hogendobber, a plump woman a good deal older than the thirty-something Harry, swelled up. "Really, Harry, this is no joking matter – "

"Yes, Miranda."

At which point Miranda stopped and shook her head. Her bright red lips curled up wickedly.

"Well, if you don't want to hear me, then I suppose you don't want these cinnamon rolls either."

"I thought you only baked in the mornings."

"Well, while you were having lunch, business was so slow that I decided to make some more."

I want cinnamon rolls, said Tee Tucker, Harry's corgi. She raised her head and perked her ears. All the humans heard was a bark.

"Quiet, Tucker, we'll feed you in a minute."

If you want the food, short legs, said Pewter, an enormously fat gray cat, you have to go and get it.

Yeah, but I get in trouble for stealing it.

Watch the master. And with that Pewter leaped atop of the counter and snagged a piece of fresh cinnamon roll, leaping off before Miranda could catch her.

"Really, Harry, that cat's a menace."

Hee-hee, came the reply.

"How's Tracy?" Harry asked, her mouth full. Tracy was Miranda's old high-school boyfriend. A widower, he and Miranda had "re-connected" at their fiftieth reunion. Tracy was now in the act of moving to Crozet.

"He's finally sold the house in Hawaii, and he says he'll be here in about two months."

"That's great," said Harry with a smile. It was wonderful to see her old friend rejuvenated. Ever since her husband's death nine years ago, Mrs. Hoggendobber had become immersed in her church and in food. Now, with Tracy back on the scene, Mrs. Hoggendobber was beginning to relinquish her comfort objects. She'd lost thirty pounds and had stopped trying to force Harry to come to church.

"Mail bags," sang out Rob Collier outside the post office doors.

"Be right there," Harry called back, snagging another cinnamon roll and running out the back door. The mail truck was waiting there to pick up her mail.

"Whew, Mrs. Hoggendobber, how many letters did you write to Tracy?" asked Rob, puffing as he heaved the heavy bags into the mail truck. Miranda ignored him with magisterial dignity.

"Cinnamon roll, Rob?" offered Harry.

"Thanks," he said, taking it gratefully. "Hey, Harry, I heard you got some new boarders."

"Yeah."

"Who are they?"

"Stefan and Erica Taisce."

Rob leaned against his truck and smiled at the pretty young Harry. "You didn't answer my question."

"Professor Taisce is a chemistry teacher at an English boarding school, and Erica is a student there. That's all I know."

"When are they coming?"

"They should be here pretty soon," said Harry, glancing at her watch. "It's almost five o'clock."

"Post office closes at six, doesn't it?"

"I'm taking over for Harry while she takes them home," interrupted Mrs. Hoggendobber.

Rob thought for a moment. "A single father, eh?" he asked innocently.

"Don't you even start, Rob," said Harry, blushing slightly. Since her divorce four years ago, everyone seemed eager to pair her with someone – especially her ex, who was still in love with her.

"All I'm saying is…"

"You'd better go," said Harry pointedly, glancing again at her watch. Rob took the hint and climbed back into the truck, waving as he pulled out. Harry and Mrs. Hoggendobber walked back into the office at the same time as Mrs. Murphy, Harry's tiger cat.

They're here! said Mrs. Murphy, skidding a little over the smooth linoleum.

"Mrs. Murphy, where have you been?"

Murphy ignored her mother. They're here. Get up.

Who's here? asked Pewter lazily, sprawled over the countertops.

The boarders, fatso.

I am not fat, I'm big-boned.

Yeah, right. You couldn't catch a mouse if it had one leg and was slow-dancing to country.

Where are they? asked Tucker, before the cats could get really nasty.

In a cab. They'll be here in a second.

Let's go see, said Tucker, and she and Murphy bolted out of the pet door Harry had installed for them. Pewter stayed put. She was going to be living with these people for the next three months; who cared if she wasn't the first one to see them?

Severus paid the cab-driver, who drove away quickly and left them standing in front of the post office. He shook his head, trying to get used to his new haircut. Erin, beside him, fingered her brand new, coppery hair.

"Think this will be enough?" she asked him in a low tone.

"It'll have to be," he said. "Now, remember…"

"I'm Erica Taisce, you are my father Stefan, etceteras ad nauseum. Yes, I remember."

"Don't be snide."

Erin grinned mischievously.

"Wait out here," he told her, and walked into the post office.

Harry looked up as a stranger walked through the door. He was tall and thin, with ear-length black hair and a hooked nose.

"Mary Haristeen?" he asked her, his baritone thick with a heavy English accent.

"Yeah," said Harry with a smile. "You must be Professor Taisce." She came out from behind the counter and shook his hand. His fingertips were icy cold, the look on his face carefully neutral. Not a man, she thought, used to being the newcomer. "Is Erica here?"

At that moment, they both heard a loud barking noise from outside. Harry opened the door and the professor looked over her shoulder, an easy thing to do since he was at least five inches taller than she. A red-haired teenager was playing with Tucker on the sidewalk, slapping her hands against the concrete, then tackling the little dog and scratching her belly. Murphy looked on, amused at Tucker's instant adoration. Pewter refused to move off of the counter.

The young woman stood up and breathlessly extended her hand. "Erica Taisce," she said cheerfully. "I'm the intelligent one."

"Not as intelligent as you're about to be, if you keep this up," said Stefan icily.

"Can't give me detention out here."

"No, but I can assign two hundred pages out of your schoolbooks."

Erica groaned loudly, but there was a twinkle in her eye, and as Stefan stepped forward, Harry would have sworn she could see a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. She caught the glance that passed between them and knew that these two had a deep connection. Harry sighed. This was only the second time she had had boarders. She hoped it would work out.

*~*~*~

Draco was up and about, but he wished he wasn't.

"What is this…place," he said. He would have said something else, except that he was talking to Snape's sister, which warranted at least a tiny bit of respect. Even if she was a Squib.

"The Labyrinth," she said briskly. The five of them – Draco, Mariah, Nina, Christopher, and Harry – were standing in front of a large slap of stone. "Beware," Mariah read aloud from the ominous red letters painted upon the stone. "Here is the Labyrinth of the Lost."

Beside Draco, Harry shivered slightly. Coward, Draco thought contemptously, until he realized that he was shaking harder than Potter. His gaze flicked over to Potter. Gray eyes met green, then Draco looked away. He still hated the presumptuous little celebrity, but they were on the same side now – he didn't quite know what to think.

Draco closed his eyes in pain. That night, he had thought he was going to die. And his father – his father had just stood there…

Mariah interrupted his thoughts, to Draco's great pleasure. "Does everyone have a knife?" she asked. Three heads bobbed.

"I don't get a knife 'till I'm older."

"The other teens will let you off for a few weeks, to let you learn how to fight," Nina said to Draco and Harry in a low voice. "Especially if I remind them first." Draco shivered a little harder. He didn't want to think about Nina's idea of "reminding."

"Just stay close," said Mariah. "And remember your names."

That was right, thought Draco. He was David, Potter was Harvey. They were part of the Snape family, or "clan", even though they weren't actually family. It was all very confusing.

"Let's go," said Mariah, and they entered the Labyrinth.

*~*~*~

Amadeus the Auror scowled at the piece of parchment in his hands. He tore it in two and hurled it into the fire.

"Bad news?" asked his friend Valentino laconically. Valentino was leaning against a wall and picking his nails with a knife, which would have looked threatening except that Amadeus knew that Valentino fought like a gerbil. He was strictly into information, not battle.

"Fudge has called the arrests off," said Amadeus between clenched teeth. "Claims the list we got from Dumbledore has no proof of authenticity. We have to release everyone."

Valentino whistled. "Looks like Dumbledore and Fudge have had a little falling out."

"That's not all. We're not allowed to accept assistance from Dumbledore. Every."

Valentino dropped his knife and stood up. "Geez. Can't trust Dumbledore, can't trust nobody. Is Fudge nuts?"

"Maybe he's on You-Know-Who's side," suggested Amadeus darkly. Valentino shook his head.

"Naw. He's a pain in the rear but he's not on His side. 'Course, way he's acting, might as well be."

"You've got that right." And Amadeus turned back to the flames and continued to brood.