Disclosure: Eh, it really wasn't that good of a movie. I mean, I like Michael Douglas, but...Huh? Wrong disclosure? Oh, sorry about that. Still not mine. I guess that's what I get for trying a diversion...

Callahan's:

At about the same time as the Weasley clan was sitting down to dinner at the Burrow, Harry Potter pulled into a gravel parking lot just past Smithtown, New York. The cars that were in the lot looked like they were parked by a bunch of distracted dyslexic cats. He parked the old bike near the door, put his helmet away, and took his sunglasses off. The young man took a good look at the outside of the building. It didn't look like anything special. It was just an older wood building, not constructed with any particular style in mind. It was basically a box, with wood siding. There was a plain, hand-lettered sign hanging over the door. Said door was a huge wooden thing, with a badly repaired crack down the middle. He pulled the door open, and was pleasantly surprised. The first thing he noticed was that the lights were bright, though not overly so. Off to his left, he saw a large fieplace, about six feet at it's apex, four feet wide, and about as the same distance deep. There was a fire roaring there, but around the logs, he saw what looked like broken glass. In addition to the normal fireplace implements, he also saw a large pushbroom. To his right, he saw an old piano, of the sort that Mrs Figg had in her parlour. The difference here was that, rather than being covered with pictures of generations of cats, there was what appeared to be a very elderly monkey sitting on the bench, playing what seemed to be a very lively tune, that sounded fairly familiar. Next to the piano was one of the skinniest, tallest, most bearded men he had ever seen, playing an accoustic guitar that seemed to have pickups on it, leading to an amplifier. Looking around, he walked up to the bar, and settled into one of the tall chairs he saw there. After a moment, a large man (he looked like Hagrid would, after discovering the idea of shaving, and starting male-pattern baldness) approached him. Harry studied him as he approached. He was a big man, with a heavy moustache and one of the most open faces Harry had ever seen. The smile Harry saw not only touched this man's eyes, it completely subsumed them.

"Evening! I'm Mike Callahan, and this is my place. What'll ya have?"

"An ale sounds good, if you have it. I'm Harry."

"I'll be right back with that, Harry."

A moment later, Callahan returned with a tall glass of dark liquid, with an inch of foam at the top. "Here you go. Guinness alright?" At Harry's nod, he set the glass down and said, "That'll be a dollar, please."

Harry said, "I was told you had the best prices around, but I never expected that." He laid a dollar bill down on the bar.

"If you return the glass, you can take fifty cents from the cigar box at the end of the bar."

As the young man was about to ask why he wouldn't return the empty, he saw Mike look off to the right. Harry followed his gaze, and saw that a tall man who looked a bit like a basset hound was standing at a white line drawn on the floor. He finished his drink, and said in a clear voice, "To idiots!" He then threw the glass, so that it smashed against the back of the fireplace. A half dozen more glasses followed it in, as the other patrons followed suit, echoing his sentiments. As the man walked up to the bar, Mike walked down to the taps and poured him another beer. Harry looked questioningly at the bartender when he returned.

"His name is Long-Drink McGonnigle. He works part-time at a customer service place, taking calls from people wanting to complain about their cable service. Only problem is that he works at the phone company. They get some doozies calling in. He ends up making that toast about twice a week."

Harry said, "So, let me get this straight. I pay a dollar for a drink, and if I turn the glass back in, I get half of that back. If I don't care about the change, I can throw the glass in the fireplace and make a toast that has to be explained?"

"Almost right, Harry. All except the part about the explanation. That part is up to you. If you feel like explaining, we're more than willing to listen. If you don't feel like it, you don't have to. Other than what you've already heard, the only rule around here is this; "No nosy questions." What is nosy is determined by the one being asked. If the monkey over there at the piano, Fast Eddie, hears a nosy question, the next thing you'll feel is a sap in the back of the head, and you get an all-expenses paid trip to the parking lot."

Harry heard a voice from the vicinity of the piano, "Dammit, Mike! Wouldja quit with the monkey thing already? Jeez."

Callahan said, "The best way to avoid that is to preface any question with, "If you don't mind my asking", and be prepared to hear that somebody minds. If they want to tell, they will. Excuse me for a bit." He went down to the other end of the bar, and washed out some of the glasses in the sink.

A moment later, the door opened, and a very large, very round man with a stethoscope hanging around his neck walked in, and made his way purposely to the bar. Mike said, "Hiya Doc." He barely acknowledged the greeting as he slapped a dollar bill down and grabbed a full glass from the bartop. He drank half of it off at a gulp, and walked over to the chalkline. He stood there for a moment, staring into the flames. Gradually, the noise in the room came to a stop. Even the piano player and the man with the guitar stopped playing. After about a minute, he looked around the bar, making eye contact with most. His eyes lingered a moment on Harry, widening for a bit, then moving on. Harry heard a rumbling, yet gentle voice speak a moment later. Harry was surprised at the pain he could sense in that voice. "Most of you here know me. I've been known to put up with a lot of crap over the years. Being the head of the Emergency Room over at Smithtown General for the past God knows how many years, I've had to. Budget cuts, HMOs, new management, personnel turnover, the lot. After a while, you get to know what's important, and what's just bullshit that you can let slide and deal with another time. It's when it comes down to sheer idiocy, downright pigheadedness, that it kinda gets to me." He broke off a moment, and took a drink from his glass. "Tonight, we had five people brought in, from a two car accident. It seems that a young man and his girlfriend left a graduation party after drinking all day, and about a half mile down the road, crossed the center line, and went straight into the side of a mini-van with two parents and a baby, at about fifty miles per hour. The mini-van was thrown about sixty feet before it touched down. The baby would have been fine, but the carseat wasn't put in correctly, so it bounced around the inside of the van like a pinball. The father, who was driving, didn't have his seatbelt on, so he was thrown into the mother. The two kids in the other car walked away barely bruised, with a couple of scratches apiece." Another long drink from the glass. Mike passed a fresh drink to Harry, who took it up and set it on the table next to the doctor. With a nod of thanks, he continued. "When they brought them in, I thought I was back in Korea, in a M.A.S.H. unit. We were able to stabilise both parents relatively quickly, at least for the short term. Then we started on the baby. It took us a few minutes to even figure out where to start. We knew right away that she had a crushed windpipe, so an emergency tracheotomy was first on the agenda. We quickly set that up, and started her on a respirator, just in case. One of her eyesockets was broken, so that was next. We did everything we could to put that back together. The eye was so damaged that we don't even know if it'll ever work right. Both of her arms and one leg are in casts. We don't know yet if there was any spinal damage. It didn't look like it, but we'll have to run further tests to be sure. After we got done with her, we spent six hours setting bones on the parents." The large doctor had a grim smile with no humor in it. "I think we used more plaster tonight, than was used in all the frescoes and refliefs in the whole damn Vatican." He finished off his drink. "All of this was due to an idiot who thought he could drive after getting drunk, and a father who couldn't install a baby seat correctly or bother to put his own seatbelt on. My toast tonight is to stupidity, in all it's varied forms." His glass was followed into the fireplace by every other in the room, including Harry's. The fusillade was accompanied by a thundering chorus of voices saying, "To Stupidity!"

The doctor made his way to the bar, more slowly this time. Harry watched him as he worked his way through the crowd. He turned out to have a ready smile, as he greeted people he obviously knew, on the way through. He took the chair next to Harry, signalling Mike for a beer. He then turned to Harry, putting his hand out. "Hi. I'm Doc Webster." Harry shook with him, introducing himself. "Harry Potter." Doc's eyes widened for a moment, as he seemd to turn something over in his mind. "Potter, you said? If you don't mind my asking, where in England are you from?" The younger man hesitated a moment, then said, "I currently split my time between London and a small village out in the country, Ottery St Catchpole. My parent's were from a town called Godric's Hollow."

Doc said, "I knew it! Were your parents named James and Lily?"

Harry goggled. As he was about to ask a question in response, he saw Eddie sidling around behind the doctor. He quickly told the piano player that he didn't consider the question nosy, then turned back to Doc, asking him, "How did you know my parents' names?"

"I did part of my residency at a hospital outside of London. While I was there, your parents came in, one July 30th, about ten o'clock at night. About six hours later, she gave birth to you. Apparently, they were unable to go to their regular hospital, for some reason. She actually had what has to be the easiest labor I've ever seen, for someone who demanded that she was to be given no drugs. Not so much as an aspirin. She was a beautiful young lady. They did me the honor of visiting me about three months later, so I could make sure you were doing well. You had arrived about a month early, you see. I was surprised to see you doing so well." He shook his head sadly. "I was shocked to hear what happened to them. Such a pity. Such nice people."

Harry asked, "What exactly did you hear?"

In a lowered voice, "That the Dark Lord murdered them, and tried to do the same to you." At Harry's look of surprise, he gave a gesture for the young man to wait. He waved Callahan over. As the bartender approached, he asked him, "Mike, may the two of us go into your quarters for a few moments?" Callahan waved them through to the back.

As they passed through the door, Harry cast a quick silencing spell, and turned to the doctor. "How much do you know about Lord Voldemort and..." he asked, watching the shudder pass through Doc.

"The wizarding world? Not a lot. I know that it exists. I know that Voldemort is an evil bastard that needs to die. I know that your world has medical solutions that I wish to God I could use."

Harry looked around the room, and saw a fireplace almost the size of the one in the bar. There was what looked like a small flowerpot next to it, only without flowers. "Was is the word now, in relation to Voldemort."

"Really? When did that happen? Who did it?"

Deep in thought, the young wizard replied, off-handedly, "Me, and it was only a couple weeks ago. Do you know anything about how we use fireplaces in our world?"

Doc Webster looked at him incredulously. "You? Really? Amazing." The man was clearly distracted. He quickly came back to himself. "Fireplaces? Well, I know that some people use them for traveling."

"I'll be right back, Doc." Harry walked back out near the bar. "Mike? Could I ask you something?" As Callahan walked down to the end of the bar, Harry gestured for him to come into the back. Mike nodded, and signalled for another man to watch the bar for a moment.

As the other man walked behind the bar, Mike said, "Thanks, Tom.", and passed through to the back. "What can I do for you?"

Harry pointed to the fireplace. "Is your floo connection just stateside, or is it capable for overseas, as well?"

"It'll reach England, if that's what you need. It's set up for both communication and travel."

"Do you mind if I use it? I may be able to get some help for the child Doc mentioned earlier."

"Go right ahead. It might take a little longer than you're used to, but it should work just fine."

"Thank you, Mike." Harry walked over to the fireplace, took out his wand, and muttered "Incendio", and a pleasant fire started in the grate. He took a pinch of floo powder, tossed it on the fire, and said, "The Burrow!" The flames flared up green. He then knelt, with his head in the fire, waiting for the connection.

A few moments later, the swirling and turning stopped, and his vision resolved into the familiar view of the kitchen of the Burrow, albeit from a different angle than he was used to. He saw Molly standing on the other side of the kitchen, with her back to him. "Mum?"

Startled, Molly turned around, looking straight at the fireplace. She had heard his voice from the fireplace before, occasionally, but he had never called her that. "Harry? Is that you? What did you call me?" She looked happy, but very surprised.

"Ummm...I called you Mum...I thought you might not mind, after talking to Ginny, earlier."

"Oh, I don't! I don't mind it one bit! How are you? Is something wrong?"

"Well, I'm glad to hear it, Mum. You know, I could get used to saying that. Anyway, is Ginny around? I really need to ask her something."

"Just a moment. I'll go get her. She'll be so surprised."

A moment later, Ginny came running into the kitchen. "Harry? What's going on? What did you need to ask?"

"I'm in a tavern in upstate New York. There's a doctor who came in tonight, who works in the local hospital..." Harry explained the situation with the baby girl. "He's at his wit's end, and even though he's a muggle, he already knows about our world. Do you think you could come and take a look? This connection is good for travel, so you don't have to worry about flying over or anything."

"Of course, Harry. Just let me pack a bag. What address do I use for the floo?"

"Callahan's Bar, private quarters. I'll be waiting to catch you on this end. See you in about ten minutes?"

"Okay, Harry, and make it five. It won't take long."

"Alright then. See you in a bit." He pulled his head back out of the grate, and turned back to Mike and Doc, who had been waiting patiently.

"A friend of mine will be here in a few minutes. I think she'll be able to help. I just need to wait for her on this end, to catch her as she comes through."

They both nodded, and Harry turned back to the fire. Five muntes later, the flames flared up green again, and a petite, very pretty young redhead came out of the grate. Harry caught her as she came through, and turned it into a hug to greet her. He released her, saying, "Fancy meeting you here."

She stepped back with a grin as she replied, "Yeah, what are the odds?" She then performed a quick cleaning spell on herself, picked up her bag, and turned to the other two in the room, offering her hand to the man she could see had to be the doctor. "Ginny Weasley. I understand there's a little girl who needs some help."

He shook Ginny's hand and said "Doc Webster. Very glad to meet you. The hospital is about a mile from here. Would you two follow me?" The four trooped out to the bar. Mike slid back behind the bar, and the other three went outside.

Harry took Ginny's bag, and tied it to the back of the bike. He pulled a helmet out of each saddlebag, handed one to the young witch, and put the other on his own head. Harry climbed on, Ginny behind him with her arms around him, and he follwed the doctor's car to the hospital.