Disclaimer: Harry Potter is from the creative genius that is J.K. Rowling. We are not her. This is merely a fanfiction to tide us over until Book 6.

When David stepped out of the fireplace, he gasped for air. Half of the pub was gone. There had been a fire and part of the pub's fire wards had succumbed.

"What in the world!" David drew his wand and quickly spied several heads of red hair gathered together on the street. Could they be the same Weasley that he played chess with? Cautiously stepping over fallen beams, he made his way over to the group.

"Can I help?" David asked. The oldest of the group, Arthur Weasley, turned suddenly at the odd voice. David quickly put his hands up.

"David Goodnight from America. My daughter dates one of the fellows up at Hogwarts. We saw the Marks and I came to help."

Arthur quickly put his hand out to David.

"I'm afraid there's not much we can do now. The pub's gone and so are the Deatheaters."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Fight broke out in the pub. Some young wizards got drunk and started throwing curses around. Turned out one had Deatheater sympathies. He threw out the first mark and set the fire. But, it turned out that the Deatheaters had made plans to attack Gringotts tonight as well. They were a bit surprised to see another Dark Mark pop up. In the confusion, they managed to get away before they could get caught or before they could do any damage to the bank. But the pub, the Leaky Cauldron, will never be the same."

"Neither will we, if don't get that roof shored up," David commented. Arthur looked at him quizzically. "Dumbledore contacted me. I-I work on houses back in the States. I'm an architect of sorts. That main beam of the roof is starting to bend."

Even as David said that, the timber began to groan under its own weight.

"Boys, quick! Put some stabilizing spells on that beam!" Mr. Weasley commanded. "We'll have to find something to physical support it, though."

"Do you have a crane?" David asked.

"A what? Oh, a Muggle crane! No, 'fraid not. And we can't call the Muggles for help. The back wall into Diagon Alley was broken down." "Then you've got two choices: up or down. And down won't be pretty."

The beam moaned again.

"Dad! How 'bout a lamp post?"

"That'll do it! Quick!"

"Do you own the pub, Mr. Weasley?"

"No, I-I . . . Oh, good! That's it! Gently now." Arthur and David watched at the men magically maneuvered the post into place.

"There. That should hold it until Tom can decide what to do with things."

David quickly examined what he could see of the rest of the pub. He and Mr. Weasley put up some more stabilizing spells until physical braces could be brought in.

Turning to David, he said, "Thanks for your help. I'm afraid I'm not much on building thingees around here. We called Dumbledore and he remembered that you were in London. Thanks be for fast owls."

He glanced over at David. "You, um, should probably get back to your rooms, though. Things are still a bit twitchy around here. I'll tell the guys that I saw you though." He smiled at them all. David could sense that he was being dismissed.

"Um, sure. Thanks Mr. Weasley. If you need any more help, be sure to owl us."

"I-We will, we will. I'm sure Tom will want to thank you for saving the Cauldron here."

"No problem." David pulled the keychain out of his pocket. "Bye!"

David waved at the odd group that had assembled at the pub and pushed the button to activate the port key.

Back in the hotel suite, Jeraldine, Alaire, and Neville had collapsed on the couch torn between laughing at the show and being worried over David. Neville looked out the window and was relieved to see that the two Marks had almost faded into nothingness.

"Oh, I feel a headache coming on," he heard Alaire mutter to herself.

"Want some water for your meds?" Alaire nodded. When Neville returned, Alaire had lain down on the couch. She took her meds and fell asleep almost immediately.

"She hasn't done that in a long time," Neville told Jeraldine. "The last time, well, the only time she had to take her medicine, she stayed awake."

"I doubt it's the medicine, Neville. We're all just plain tired. It's almost two in the morning. Why don't you go lay down and get some sleep? I'll wake you if we need to leave." Neville shook his head.

"No, I'll wait up with you. I'm too worked up to sleep right now."

"I understand, dear." They both stared out the window at the fading Marks.

"I remember the first War," Jeraldine finally said softly. "Reports started coming to the States that a very powerful wizard was trying to take over here in England. We weren't sure what to do. Send help? Stay out of the way? Then suddenly it was all over. Voldemort was gone. Defeated by a baby boy." She gave him a curious look. "We sent help to try and rebuild what we could. David and I spent a few weeks reviewing the contracts to help rebuild Diagon Alley. Looks like we may be doing that again. I guess I thought it was all over. I thought it was safe for Alaire to be here."

"It's not."

The two words fell like lead weights between them.

"Neville, there's something you haven't told us, isn't there?"

Neville nodded. He glanced at Alaire to make sure that she was asleep. "Voldemort kidnapped Harry and managed to regain his body three years ago. The Ministry refused to believe that he was back. But a lot of students believed Harry. We made up a secret club called Dumbledore's Army to practice self-defense against the Dark Arts. It's a good thing we did, too. During our fifth year, Harry was lured to the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. Five of us went with him. We fought Deatheaters there."

Jeraldine sat down in a chair by the window then pulled out a wand and conjured one for Neville. Her face had gone pale. "Dumbledore didn't tell us that."

"Actually, it's kind of a secret. Volde- I mean, You-Know-Who, he was after a prophecy that involved him and Harry. He had heard only half of it and wanted the other half. Only Harry could open it so he lured Harry there by telling him that his uncle was being tortured. We wouldn't let Harry go alone."

"Who went?"

"Me, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. She almost died."

"What happened to you, Neville?"

No one had really asked him that except his Gran. He had given her the cut and dried story but he felt compelled to Jeraldine more. "I tried my best to help but it seemed to never work right. I knocked Harry's wand away from him by accident. I got my nose broken. I got my wand broken. And then, I broke the prophecy. I was a complete and utter failure."

"But you survived."

"I did but Sirius, Harry's uncle, didn't. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him." A heavy silence fell between them.

"Neville, I had no idea about any of this. I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say." Neville stood and went to the window staring off at the now empty night sky. He pressed his forehead against the glass and screwed his eyes shut. "I want you to take Alaire back to the States," he whispered as his heart broke into a million pieces.

"Oh, Neville. Don't say that."

"I have to. If something happened to her, I'd never forgive myself. Take her home. When the war is over, if she wants to come back, she can."

"It's her decision too, Neville. And I know that she won't want to go."

"She has to."

Jeraldine sighed. "I wish I knew what to do. I'll have to talk to David. Making Alaire do something she doesn't want to do is difficult to say the least. She tends to act first and think later. I remember when she decided that she wanted to learn to fly on a broom. She didn't wait for lessons. Nope. She just grabbed a broom, went to the hayloft, and jumped. She had gotten a plain old Muggle broom that we kept around for odd chores. Broke her arm in three places."

Neville smiled. "I can see her doing that."

"She likes adventure. She knew that the peace here was fragile but she came anyway. She needed to start over so badly. I don't know if I can take her home when she is so happy here but I'd do anything to protect her."

"Then take her to Paris. Take her to Beauxbatons."

"You're not at Beauxbatons."

"I'll be OK. I've survived so far."

"Can you survive losing Alaire?" Neville couldn't answer her. A lump had formed in his throat as he thought of Hogwarts without Alaire. It grew larger when he thought of Alaire with a French boyfriend. Luckily he was saved from answering as David opened the door.

"David!" Jeraldine flew across the floor embracing him soot and all.

"Dad!" Alaire suddenly was awake and in his arms.

Neville didn't know what to do. He was glad to see David but it didn't seem right to join in the family hug. David solved the problem. He strode across the floor and gave Neville a brief hug.

"Well?"

"The Leaky Cauldron is going to need a lot of repairs. Some drunks got into a fight and burnt down half of it. One of them threw a Dark Mark just as a scare tactic." David sat down with a sigh and closed his eyes. "But REAL Deatheaters did try to rob Gringotts. But, according to Mr. Weasley, . . ."

"Ron Weasley's Dad?" Neville asked in a surprised voice.

"The same. The same red hair. The same height. And, I think I saw about four more of them there, as well. Anyway, according to him, when the real Deatheaters saw the fake Mark it spooked them.By the way, do the names Malfoy and Lestrange mean anything, Neville?"

Neville went pale. "Yes, sir. Both are high ranking Deatheaters." He closed his eyes for a moment gathering courage. "It was Bellatrix Lestrange that tortured my parents."

David's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, son. Their names were mentioned today at the pub. Mr. Weasley tried to distract me but I heard several people mention their names."

"They escaped from Azkaban a few months ago. I suppose that's why Dumbledore wanted me to stay in."

"They escaped again. I'm sorry."

Neville nodded. He knew that the two people he hated in the most in this world would be involved in any Deatheater insurrection.

"But, Neville, I want you to know that you did the right thing staying here. There was nothing you could have done there tonight. I didn't help much."

"You saved that pub. Ron's father could have died tonight when the pub collapsed. You did the right thing."

Alaire looked up at her father. "I'm proud of you." All the fight left David Goodnight.

"Well, then. Let's all try to get some sleep. We'll try to get the facts in the morning." David let Jeraldine guide him into their room without the usual menacing glare that he gave Neville before everyone went to bed.

"Come on, let's go change and get some rest," Alaire said.

"But, I want to go and see what's going on in Diagon Alley.."

"No."

"There still might have been Death Eaters around. I need to go back and make sure. I need to see that LeStrange isn't there. I need to see it."

"No, you don't," Alaire said stomping her foot. "If you go I'll just follow you."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will!" Alaire said in a harsh whisper, as she tried not to bring any parental attention their way. "Deep down, you know I will!"

Neville sighed. "It's just – I can't – why? You just – it's – the thing is –"

"Neville, you're so tired that you're babbling. We'll talk, argue, or fight about it in the morning." Alaire leaned over and kissed him. "Neville, please?"

He sighed and gave in. They went into her room and she found his pajamas for him. He went into the bathroom and changed. When he came out, he found Alaire in her pajamas making his bed on the couch.

"Two pillows?"

"If you think I'm sleeping alone tonight, you're out of your mind. Dad set wards on the bed but not on the couch. There." She patted a pillow. "Be right back."

Neville had lain down on the makeshift bed when she came back. "I don't think this is a good idea, Alaire."

"For once, Neville, I really don't care what you think. Budge over."

"What? That's not very nice. If David finds us, he'll kill us. No, he'll kill me."

"Neville, I'm 18. You're 17, of age in this crazy country. The equivalent of Nazi's just threatened our very existence and destroyed half of Diagon Alley. I think Dad would understand if needed a little comfort tonight. I swear! You'd rather fight Deatheaters than fight with my father!"

"You're not too far off."

"Well, don't hold your breath, Neville. You might get your wish sooner than we all thought."

Neville just stared at her. "You know, you're right, Alaire."

"God, Neville, I'm sorry. I'm so tired that I'm just saying stupid stuff. It'll be better in the morning. Let's get some sleep."

"Fine. Here." He scooted over and gave her some room on the magically enlarged couch.

"If Dad comes out, I promise to tell him it was my idea."

"Fine."

"Just make sure you stay covered up."

"Fine." Neville started to close his eyes. "Why?"

"Well, because every time we've 'slept' together, you wake up . . ." her voice trailed off.

"Go on, explain. How do I wake up, Alaire?" he asked amused.

"OK, now you're being horrid! You know what I mean!"

"Nope. Not a clue."

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Good. Now we can get some sleep." Neville pretended to softly snore.

"After all we've been through tonight, you-you . . . OH!"

"Got you."

"Neville Longbottom, you're going to pay for teasing me."

"Mmm. Good. Later, though. I am going to sleep." He rolled over and turned his back on Alaire.

Alaire simply chuckled and cuddled up to him. "Oh, you'll pay alright."