The return of Ron and Hermione and the addition of Charlie Weasley to Stone House was very welcome to Harry. Not only had he missed his friends, but there was now a much better chance of making up a foursome for informal Quidditch practice. Bill Weasley had been willing to join them when he was around, but if he wasn't at work or on duty for the Order when Harry, Ron and Ginny happened to be looking for a fourth, he was often out with Fleur. Charlie, who was now on holiday, was much more available for informal practices. Although Ron's public performance had improved somewhat during the previous school year, he was still better in practice with Harry and his family members than he was when playing in front of the rest of the school. Harry hoped that this would change over time, but they did only have one year left at Hogwarts.
After a good practice in the morning and a hearty lunch, Harry had settled down in a cushiony armchair next to Remus in front of the fireplace in the lounge. He was enjoying a pleasant chat with him while cheerful flames danced in the fireplace. Even in the midst of summer, Harry found this very soothing, and a rare sense of peace washed over him.
The fireplace flared green, an occurrence which no longer surprised him. What did surprise him was seeing a very small girl of only two or three step out of the flames. She was wearing soft pink pajamas with matching fuzzy slippers. Her large hazel eyes were set in a round face under tousled brown curls.
"Good morning," she said politely to the room in general. "I've come to visit Aunt Cat," she announced.
Remus responded first, rising smoothly to his feet. "I'll let her know that you're here."
"Thank you," she replied with touching gravity, and he strode from the room.
Harry hadn't realized that witches and wizards learned to use Floo powder at such a young age. He had known that it was a normal form of wizard travel, but she seemed awfully young. He looked over at Ron in unconscious inquiry, but the red-head was staring at the visitor in surprise, his mouth still open.
"Ron," Hermione said very firmly.
"Huh?"
"It's your turn," she said pointedly.
"Oh, yeah. Right." He turned back to the chess board.
The door flew open and Miss Clare swept in, Remus immediately behind her.
"Annabel?" she said in a tone of disbelief, stopping just in front of her.
The little girl smiled and raised her arms. Miss Clare picked her up automatically, responding to the child's hug and settling her on her hip.
"I came to visit you," the little girl announced happily.
"Yes, dear, so I see." Catherine's voice had an odd tone in it. She assumed a mock frown. "To what," she intoned dramatically, "do I owe the pleasure?"
Annabel giggled. "Daddy says Lempkin's going to have puppies," she informed her aunt happily.
"So she is," Catherine agreed.
Annabel had suddenly become very interested in the top button of her aunt's robes.
"We – ell," she started slowly, "Mommy said there would be a whole litter." She looked up quickly to see how this information was being received. "And I asked, and a litter means more than one, and – " she stopped and looked at Miss Clare expectantly.
"You thought that there might be an extra puppy available?" Annabel nodded earnestly.
"I think we'll need to talk to your parents. Puppies are definitely a parent decision," Catherine told her firmly.
"Now," Catherine set her down gently, "have you said 'Hi' to Soma yet?" Annabel shook her head. "Well, run along and have some pumpkin juice while I call your father."
Annabel accepted this cheerfully and toddled off toward the door. She had reached up and turned the knob when she looked back for a moment.
"Oh," the little girl said, stopping suddenly with an arrested expression on her face. Harry turned to see that Floo powder was pouring itself into the flames. He glanced at Catherine, who was not holding her wand. "I didn't know you could do it that way," Annabel remarked with interest.
Catherine froze.
"It's not considered good form, dear," she told her niece carefully. "Close the door behind you."
The moment the door shut, Catherine whirled to face the fireplace, where green flames were now crackling merrily.
"Michael," she called forcefully. There was an edge of panic in her voice Harry had never heard before.
"Michael Aragon Clare, you answer me right now!"
A man's head popped into the flames. He had short dark hair and the same round face as Annabel. He looked very surprised.
"Cat?"
Catherine glared at him. "I feel like I should be showing you one of those Muggle parenting commercials that say, 'It's nine o'clock, do you know where your children are?'" she informed him sharply. "Do you know where Annabel is?" she demanded. Her brother turned and spoke to someone behind him.
"She's supposed to be washing up for breakfast," Michael replied, looking worried.
"I just sent her down to get some pumpkin juice from Soma."
"What?" Michael spoke briefly behind him again and another head popped into the flames. This one belonged to a dark-haired witch with very keen eyes, now wide with fright.
"She showed up in the fireplace a few minutes ago," Catherine informed them. The woman looked horrified. Michael seemed startled, but not nearly as shocked as his wife.
"She has no idea that's she's done anything unusual," Catherine continued. "She just thought she'd pop over to ask for one of Lempkin's puppies."
"Puppies!" Her mother ejaculated. "You mean she – " she broke off, her voice catching, "for a puppy?"
"She didn't know, Maggie," Catherine pointed out. "Although you might want to think about adding some security to your fireplace," she added thoughtfully.
"Child-proofing and Clare-proofing are two very different things," Maggie responded acerbically. She looked sharply at her husband. "I'm going to finish feeding the baby. We can talk about this later." The look on her face just before she disappeared with a pop reminded Harry very strongly of Molly Weasley.
"Oh, dear," Catherine sounded worried. Her brother's expression was a mixture of concern, resignation and amusement.
"Remember, Cat, we're supposed to be upset about things like this," he pointed out. "It's in the job description for parents," he added lightly. "Maggie isn't mad at you."
Catherine sighed and dropped into the chair Remus had vacated in front of the fire. She seemed almost to have forgotten that the rest of them were in the room as she spoke earnestly to her brother.
"It's not just – " she broke off, running a hand through her hair. "She scared me wandless, Michael," she confessed miserably. "With the Floo powder. I didn't even know I was doing it. And Annabel noticed!"
"Don't fret about it, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Michael responded evenly.
"Please tell Maggie I'm awfully sorry," Catherine murmured, her tone contrite.
"Maggie will understand." Michael chuckled slightly. "She's getting over her surprise at finding out that her daughter is more like her husband's sister than one of her own. Fortunately," he added blandly, his eyes twinkling, "she happens to be rather fond of me."
Catherine smiled and seemed to relax a bit.
"Better now?" her brother asked. She nodded. "Good. Because I really don't want her Apparating back, so you're going to need to set up a transatlantic Floo and bring her home."
Catherine rose from the chair and straightened her robes. "I don't know how you manage this, Michael," she informed him.
"You forget, Cat, that I grew up watching Dad coping with you," he replied slyly. "It was excellent training."
"Me?"
"I seem to remember you were not much older than Annabel when you introduced us to your friend Booboo," he reminder her. Harry was fascinated to see a wave of soft rose color sweep Catherine's face. He had never seen her blush before.
"Well, he was very nice," she replied weakly.
"For a griffin," Michael agreed, grinning. His sister made a face at him and, still grinning, he disappeared with a pop.
Catherine remained where she was for several moments. Her color had returned to normal, but she was apparently deep in thought. Finally, she started decisively for the door, then stopped abruptly and turned back toward the fireplace.
For some reason, Remus, who was watching her with an expression in his amber eyes indecipherable to Harry, seemed to be able to interpret this odd behavior.
"Kate?"
"Hmmm?"
"Would you like me to arrange the transatlantic Floo for you?" he offered gently. "You can go get Annabel while I take care of it."
"Oh, thank you," Catherine flashed him a distracted smile and hurried out the door.
Harry rose and walked over to where Ron and Hermione were playing chess.
"Is there something strange about Annabel Flooing here?" he asked quietly.
Ron glanced over to where Remus was speaking quietly into the fireplace and stopped pretending to be concentrating on the chessboard.
"She didn't Floo here, Harry. She Apparated," he explained.
"Well, she might have done both," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"I don't understand," Harry said.
"It has to do with the Floo Network," Ron explained. "Most people travel locally, and they're good for that, as long as your destination is connected, but it's a little different when you're going as far as America. Then you have to arrange a transatlantic Floo with one of the wizards in Floo Regulation." Ron seemed to feel that this explained everything. Harry looked at Hermione rather helplessly.
"It's like a phone call," Hermione interjected. "It's pretty easy to make a phone call in your own area, but it's a little trickier to call further away, different country codes and so on. In the Floo Network, you normally set it up with the assigned Floo wizard – sort of as if all international calls have to go through an international operator – and no Floo wizard set up a transatlantic Floo for a child that small. So that means she must have Apparated," Hermione concluded.
Ron still looked somewhat shaken. "She must be really powerful," he told Harry. "Sometimes, wizards with enough talent Apparate as children, but only when they're in danger and never very far."
"I wonder if she did use the Floo Network for part of the trip," Hermione suggested. "I've been thinking about it, and – " The door opened again and Hermione abruptly clamped her lips together.
Remus looked up. "I've booked your return as well," he told Catherine. "Your window is ten to fifteen minutes after arrival." She smiled gratefully at him before turning to her niece.
"Ready to go?"
Annabel nodded and looked at the jar of Floo powder on the mantel expectantly. Her aunt shook her head. "Not this time, dear, I'd like you to come with me," she said.
Annabel stuck her lower lip out slightly.
"I'm a big girl," she protested, "I can do it all by myself."
"I'm well aware of that," her aunt responded dryly, "but I think your parents may have a few ideas about whether you ought to just now. Besides," she added blandly, "I was hoping for a nice cuddle from my niece during the trip."
Annabel's incipient pout vanished and she lifted her arms to her aunt, who settled her automatically in her embrace. Harry noticed with some amusement that Catherine, despite being encumbered by Annabel, was careful to use her hand to add the Floo powder to the flames. Remus watched the pair of them vanish from the fire with an unreadable expression in his eyes.
****
Harry didn't pay much attention when Knoggin first appeared in the breakfast room. After all, it was not as though he'd never seen the house-elf around before. The Weasleys, whom Knoggin seemed to regard as his particular responsibility, were in the same wing of the house as Harry. He couldn't really hear what the house-elf, looking both shamefaced and excited, was saying to Miss Clare, so he turned his attention to the spirited Quidditch discussion among the younger generation of his favorite family.
Charlie and Ron seemed to be arguing that the Chudley Cannons would be the victors in their upcoming match against Puddlemere United, while Bill and Ginny insisted that the superior skill of the Puddlemere Chasers would give them the edge. Hestia Jones was perusing the latest issue of Witch Weekly as she finished her morning coffee.
"Arthur?" Arthur Weasley was still buried in The Daily Prophet, but he lowered it obligingly to blink at his hostess.
"Hmmm?"
"Arthur, I have just been informed of a disgraceful incident which reflects very poorly on the running of my household." Miss Clare was speaking very deliberately, her voice carrying clearly to the far end of the room. "I am reliably informed that the house-elf Knoggin has so far forgotten himself as to spill a drop of water on the sleeve of one of your robes." She looked very stern indeed, intoning these words as if they were portents of a dire event to come. Harry could see Knoggin waiting expectantly behind her chair, looking strangely excited, as though he were anticipating a great treat.
"Did you happen to notice this shocking transgression?" she inquired very loudly.
Arthur Weasley's mind appeared to still be lost somewhere in The Daily Prophet, although he did rise to greet his wife, who had just come in with Professor Snape. As they were filling their plates and seating themselves, the looming silence reminded him that his hostess was patiently awaiting a response.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized abstractedly, re-seating himself and picking up his paper again. "No, I can't say – Ooomph!" Mr. Weasley suddenly expelled a huge whoof of air, dropped his paper in shock, and stared at his eldest son, seated across from him, in amazement. Harry had the astonishing impression that Bill Weasley had just kicked his father very hard under the table.
"Really, Father," Bill was saying very loudly, staring at his parent intently, "I know how polite you and mother are, but now that Miss Clare has asked you so directly, I don't think it would be rude to admit that you did notice when the house-elf Knoggin spilled a drop of water on one of your robes."
Molly Weasley, about to seat herself next to her husband, gave a sort of choking cry and suddenly set her plate down. Across the table, Hermione started to open her mouth but Ron, with an expression on his face Harry had never seen before, hissed "Not one word" so fiercely that she closed it again immediately.
"Oh, Arthur," Molly Weasley was regarding her husband with tears in her eyes.
"Molly, what – " Comprehension dawned at last on Arthur Weasley's thin, tired face, which was somehow transformed. He rose shakily and slipped an arm around his wife before turning to answer Miss Clare. He was holding himself with newfound dignity, and spoke very clearly and with a strange formality.
"Why, yes," he said rather loudly, "I believe we did notice this." Behind Miss Clare, Knoggin, who had been looking increasingly anxious, suddenly beamed at Mr. Weasley.
Miss Clare rose portentously, and Harry felt as though he were watching a play he didn't understand.
"I feared this was so," she said, still very loudly. "Alas," she sighed heavily, "there is little I can do to make up for this extraordinary disgrace, except to assure you that it will not go unpunished." She was regarding Knoggin very solemnly.
"Knoggin, you know what this means." The house-elf hung his head. "This means clothes," she announced loudly.
"House-elves!" The moment she called, the three other house-elves who had sung "Happy Birthday" to Harry appeared, lined up in a neat row. All three were attired in matching tea towels much more elaborate than the ones he had seen them wearing before, and Harry concluded that this was the house-elf equivalent of formal dress. They all looked excited and very pleased. Catherine surveyed them all very seriously, and then she raised her wand. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before whispering what Harry thought might have been "Accio trunk."
"The house-elf Knoggin has so far forgotten himself as to spill a drop of water on Mr. Weasley's robes," she informed them gravely. Although they all gasped in apparent horror, none of them seemed really surprised, and Harry felt more than ever as if he were caught up in some bizarre theatrical.
"You are summoned to bear witness to the punishment for this terrible transgression, for this means clothes!"
At that moment, an ancient leather trunk zoomed around the corner into the breakfast room settling itself neatly in front of Miss Clare, and everything changed. The house-elves gasped again, but very differently from before, and Harry saw tears in Soma's eyes.
Miss Clare touched the trunk with her wand, and what she was doing no longer seemed theatrical. The trunk sprang open, and a single garment floated toward her. Slipping her wand into her sleeve, she caught the fabric across her forearms. It was a long white dress, covered in some sort of soft lace that seemed to change colors as you looked at it. Apart from the changing colors, it reminded Harry strongly of the pictures he had seen of the christening gowns used by the Muggle royal family.
"Knoggin," she told him quietly, "I give this to you as a symbol of your disgrace."
"Oh, Miss," Knoggin breathed, tears leaking freely from his tennis ball eyes. "Miss," he choked. She smiled kindly at him, then stepped back and turned her face to the Weasleys expectantly. Arthur was still standing in the same position, his arm encircling his wife.
Knoggin carefully bundled up the long skirt of the garment he had just received so it would not trail on the ground when he walked, and Harry saw that his tea towel had disappeared. Once this was arranged to his satisfaction, Knoggin marched resolutely over to stand in front of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Sir," he said clearly, "Knoggin is a disgraced house-elf looking for work. Will Sir accept Knoggin in his service?"
"Will you promise to serve me and mine faithfully if I take you into my service?" Arthur Weasley replied, with great formality.
"Knoggin will, Sir!" His high-pitched voice was earnest and excited.
"And do you agree to be so bound as a Weasley house-elf?" he continued.
"I does, Sir, Knoggin does!" As the house-elf spoke, there was a momentary glow around him, as though he were surrounded in sparkles of orange-red light. The garment he was holding vanished, and Knoggin was once again attired in a tea towel. This one was red, with the outline of a seven-pointed star in gold surrounding the letter "W" in large gold script.
"So be it," Arthur finished, and the room was immediately filled with the sounds of cheers and congratulations. Knoggin was beaming happily, surrounded by the other house-elves who were patting him on the back, examining his new tea-towel, and chattering excitedly. Arthur Weasley was trying to respond appropriately to the various well-wishers surrounding him, while still holding on to his wife, who had buried her face in his chest, apparently overcome.
"Oh," Hestia Jones sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, "that was just so beautiful."
The Weasley offspring were surrounding their parents, all talking excitedly. Harry noticed that even Snape strode over to offer the Weasleys his congratulations before returning to his seat and resuming his interrupted breakfast. Catherine Clare tactfully waited for the initial hubbub to subside slightly before quietly slipping in to speak to the older couple. Remus was watching her, apparently absorbed when he seemed to realize that Harry was looking at him.
"Come on, Harry," he told him, rising. "You too, Hermione. We need to congratulate the Weasleys." Hermione seemed about to say something, but Remus spoke again, very quietly and very firmly. "Hermione, you will walk over and congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I will explain things to you and Harry later." His tone left no room for argument, and Hermione hesitated slightly, but nodded in acquiescence.
When Harry reached the Weasley couple – it was amazing how even the four Weasley children who were present seemed like many more when they were all talking at once – Molly Weasley had recovered somewhat and was telling her husband, "It's perfect, dear. Just perfect." She was looking at Knoggin's new tea-towel as she spoke. "I never thought we'd have a house-elf of our own."
Arthur pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. "Think you'll be able to find something else to do, dear?" he asked huskily.
"Oh, Arthur," she responded fondly.
"Congratulations," Harry told them. "I think it's wonderful." In truth, he couldn't think of any family that deserved a house-elf more. Or one that would be less likely to mistreat one, he thought, stepping aside for Hermione and hoping she wouldn't say anything to hurt their feelings.
"Congratulations," she said simply, much to Harry's relief. Harry saw her eyes meet Ron's and they seemed to communicate something in that glance that Harry didn't quite understand. Without thinking, he looked around for Ginny, and saw her coming toward him.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Ginny burbled, her green eyes glowing. Some part of his brain registered the fact that Ginny was uncommonly pretty when she was happy. She really ought to look like that all the time, he decided, and then she was hugging him. It was so brief, it was almost over before he had time to register the way she felt in his arms. Almost.
He didn't quite catch what Remus said to them, but it made Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beam, and then he was heading back to his seat at the table. Catherine returned a moment later as all the house-elves vanished, and then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were slipping out of the room, their children following after them.
Miss Clare resumed her seat, and Remus quirked a brow at her. "I thought they'd like some time alone," she explained. "They're finishing breakfast upstairs." Remus smiled at her.
"That was very thoughtful of you," he told her quietly.
"So," she began lightly, picking up her cup of chocolate and toying with it idly, "how do you think it went? I was afraid that the 'Alas' was a bit much."
Remus' eyes were warm. "I think they liked it. They would have been disappointed if you hadn't made a fuss. However, there is something else you need to be mindful of in future," he added casually. Catherine looked at him inquiringly.
"Don't ever try to give Arthur Weasley another house-elf until after he's finished the morning paper," he explained, and Catherine laughed.
Severus Snape folded his paper with a sharp snap, and Catherine and Remus both looked over at him.
"Can I get you anything else, Severus?" Catherine inquired, noting the unfinished breakfast still on his plate.
"Thank you, no," he replied shortly. "I believe I had better get started in the laboratory early this morning, as it now appears that my assistant is likely to be late."
Miss Clare appeared to be unaffected by what seemed to Harry to be a rather rude remark. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help," was all she said. Snape nodded briefly and turned away. Much to Harry's surprise, the Potions Master paused when he reached the doorway and turned to look back.
"It occurs to me," he said very softly, regarding Miss Clare with an indecipherable expression, "that the Weasleys' acquisition of a house-elf may actually improve our overall efficiency in the future by relieving my assistant of certain non-productive tasks."
Catherine widened her eyes slightly. "Really?" she responded sweetly. "What a shame that didn't occur to me!"
The corners of Snape's mouth twitched, and he left the room without another word.