Disclaimer: See part one.

Author's note: I fixed my mistake in Part Two about Hermione's parents. It doesn't change the story any, as they are minor characters, but it had gone against HP canon, so I changed it. Thanks to those who pointed out my oops.

This part has heavy spoilers for the episode "Cypher". I apologize if I'm treading over material that you TS fans already know intimately, but I'm also posting this thing on an HP archive, and they need to know a few things. For the HP fans, if you want to know more about Jim and Blair, "The Sentinel" is currently in reruns on The Scifi Channel, at least in the US, at 10AM Eastern, and the episode transcripts for the entire series are at Becky's Sentinel Site.

A Matter of Magic, Part Three

That night, Jim and Blair were sitting in the living room. Ruth had called from England using the mirror again to make sure that they would be ready to leave the next day. Blair had been thinking about the trust that Ruth had shown both to him and his partner with regard to her abilities. He wanted to tell her about Jim, but he wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

Finally, while the Jags game was on commercial, Blair just decided to blurt it out. "Jim."

"Yeah, Chief?"

"What would you think of telling Ruth about you? About the Sentinel thing?"

Jim looked at his partner. He could tell that Blair was nervous, probably worried about him blowing up about it. "What brought this on, Chief?"

Grimacing, Blair replied, "Nothing 'brought it on,' Jim. I've been thinking about this a lot. She's shown a lot of trust here. You're such a big part of my life. I want to be able to share something so important to me with her." Blair looked at his Sentinel openly, trying to convey his emotions in the look. "I want that, but I won't do it without your permission, Jim. I refuse to make that mistake this time around."

Jim nodded. "First, you didn't make that mistake the first time around. Naomi did. Second, you're right. Ruth should know our family secret since we know hers."

Blair smiled up at the older man shyly. "Family?"

Jim smiled right back. "Yeah, family. You're much more of a brother to me than Steven, and let's not even talk about my old man."

"Thanks, Jim. I think of you as a brother, too. I mean, I never had one, but that's what you feel like to me." Blair grinned. "So, does that make Simon the dad?"

That started Jim laughing. "I'd love to see his face if you told him that."

"What, you think I have a death wish?"

At noon sharp, Ruth Apparated into the living room of the loft. The magic used to perform that particular spell was much more intense than any other Blair had been exposed to, starting his headache almost immediately, but he didn't let it show on his face. Jim knew, though, since the pain had elevated his heart rate.

Ruth said, "So, are you guys ready to go?"

Jim nodded. "Pretty much. But before we do, there's something we need to tell you. You've let us in on your secret. Now it's time for us to tell you ours. Blair's better at explaining this thing than I am, though, so I'll let him tell it."

Blair sat her down on the sofa and started the well rehearsed story of Jim Ellison's abilities. "Jim is what's called a Sentinel. In primitive times, most tribes had one, a warrior who's job was to protect the tribe. A Sentinel was chosen because of a genetic advantage, a sensory awareness that had developed far beyond that of normal humans. When I first met Jim, I was looking for someone who possessed all five heightened senses for my doctoral dissertation. I had found literally hundreds of cases of people with one or two heightened senses, but Jim was the real thing.

"Now, a true Sentinel also has a heightened need to protect the tribe; without that need, I wouldn't classify them as a Sentinel. But that wouldn't stop them from having the same problems as the genuine article. A Sentinel can get so caught up in the input from one of his senses that he can become lost in it, going into a fugue state that resembles a petit mal seizure. They just zone out, and they can stay like that until something knocks them out of it. They can also have episodes of painful sensitivity, spikes that can incapacitate them for a while until they can get them back under control.

"Those two things are why a Sentinel always had a partner in the field, someone to guard against the zone outs and the spikes and to watch their back. That's where I come in. I thought I'd be able to give Jim some control, get all the information I needed for my diss, and get out of his life, let him take a partner from inside the PD and let me get my doctorate. But it didn't work out that way."

Now Jim spoke up. "Yeah. I got attached to Blair, and I started seeing him as my Guide, though that was a title coined by one of the bad guys. He was my partner. I didn't like that. I didn't want to be dependent on anyone for any reason because I tended to loose people close to me, either because they left or because they died. So I started trying to push him away so it wouldn't hurt so much when he finally left." He sighed. "That's about the time Alex Barnes showed up in Cascade."

Blair spoke again. "Alex had all five senses heightened, and I thought that if I could use a different subject for my diss, then Jim wouldn't feel so threatened by it. But I made the mistake of not telling him about her and when he found out it made things worse. Also making things worse was the fact that she wasn't a true Sentinel. She had none of the protective instincts, and had in fact been using her abilities as a thief. And since I'd been helping her with her senses, I knew too much.

"Meanwhile, Jim was extremely agitated by her presence in Cascade, though he didn't know that was what it was."

Jim continued quietly, still ashamed of his reactions after all this time. "All I knew was I was feeling itchy, territorial. Long story short, I found out about her and that Blair had been helping her. I kicked him out of the loft, putting him out in the open right where she could get at him."

They continued to tell Ruth about Alex, the nerve gas and Mexico, the visions and the temple. About Blair's death. Then they told her about the dissertation disaster and the offer to be a detective. Blair said, "It was so much more than I expected. I didn't believe for a second that the Chief would let me set foot in his police station again, unless it was because I was under arrest."

"But," said Jim, "I had gotten together with Simon and gone to the Chief and explained the situation. After tearing us both a new one for keeping the whole thing from him, he accepted our proposal to let Blair do officially what he had already been doing for three years without getting paid."

Blair smiled at his partner. "And then there's the Shaman thing."

Ruth looked up sharply. "Shaman?"

He nodded. "Almost three years ago, the way of the Shaman was passed to me by a Chopec Shaman named Incacha. He was Jim's first Guide. But he died, so he wasn't able to train me. Now, that hasn't really been a problem, but I've been able to sense certain things ever since. I was able to see the same vision as Jim when he came after me after Alex had drowned me. I was able to help another Shaman, a priestess of an African goddess called Oshun, channel the goddess much faster than she would have been able to do on her own. And I seem to be able to sense magic. I feel it as strongly as Jim senses light or sound, but without training, that sense has been spiking pretty badly whenever I'm around magic too much. I had a huge headache by the time we left your office the other day." He sighed. "I need training with another Shaman."

Ruth looked worried. Blair could see the wheels working in her head. "Well, I don't really know that much about Shamanism, but I'll bet my niece does. Hermione is a sponge, I swear. She's a research bug, can't go near a library without at least a peek, and can't just peek, but has to go in and browse. Before you know it, you've lost her and then you find her six hours later neck deep in some ancient tome on the history of the goblin wars or the development of travel spells or something equally esoteric. If anyone can find out about Shamanism, it will be her."

The two detectives looked at each other, and Jim nodded. He wasn't nearly as afraid of these wizards finding out about his abilities as he was the Muggle world. Wizards understood about keeping secrets. Blair grinned. "Okay then. We'll tell your family, but we still need to keep Jim's abilities as quiet as possible."

Ruth agreed. "So, is Apparation going to be too much for you?"

Blair shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm willing to risk it. It would take too long to get a flight out there. As long as everyone keeps quiet magically speaking for a while, the headache should go away."

"That shouldn't be a problem. Hermione, Ron and Harry are all still under aged, so they can't use magic outside of Hogwarts yet. They've still got a year to go." She sighed. "Well I was going to shrink your luggage to take it with us, but we'll just have to do it the old fashioned way. Pick up the bags, make sure they're at least in contact with you." They did, making sure to leave one hand each free. They would both need to be in physical contact with Ruth for this to work. She stood between them, and they each put a hand on her shoulder. Then she took out her wand, waved it in a precise motion and said, "Apparate!"

The experience was one Blair wouldn't care to repeat before he had some decent training. If that caused them to be late getting back to Cascade, then so be it. The instant they Disapparated in the Grangers' foyer, a headache the size of Washington State enveloped him, presenting as one of the worst migraines he'd ever had. Instantly worried, Ruth told Jim to stay with him and went to get her sister. "Sarah! I need to get Blair into one of the downstairs guest rooms fast, and I can't use magic to do it. I'll also need some of that headache tea of yours and an ice pack."

"What happened?"

"He's sensitive to magic. I'll tell you more later. Apparating him in here has given him a major migraine and I need to get him settled."

Hermione had overheard the conversation. "Why would he be sensitive to magic? He's a Muggle, isn't he?"

"Later, Herm. He's really hurting."

The fifteen-year-old shook her head. "Oh! Of course!"

The tea was made of non-magical herbs, and was in fact a variant of one that Blair used himself. The ice pack was welcome, and before long the pain had reduced enough that Blair was able to go to sleep. Ruth and Jim left him alone in the guest room, going out into the family room where Sarah, Hermione and Ron all sat waiting to see what was going on.

Ruth started. "Hermione, how much do you know about Shamanism?"

Ron blurted out, "What does that have to do with anything?" but Hermione was already thinking over the question.

She said, "Quiet, Ron. There's not a lot written about them, at least not in wizard publication. All that I really know is that Shamen existed long before wizards. Some historians think that wizardry evolved from Shamanism, but there's not any real proof that I know of either way."

Jim said, "What about modern Shamen?"

"Well, they do still exist in many pre-civilized cultures, but as for a truly modern Shaman, I've never heard of one."

Jim groaned. "Great."

Now her curiosity was more than just peaked. "What is it?"

Jim looked at the girl closely. She reminded him of Blair, always ready to learn something new. But, though he didn't know why, he felt that he could trust her. Something else that she and Blair had in common. "Three years ago, a Shaman from a South American tribe called the Chopec passed the Way of the Shaman to Blair. Then he died on our living room sofa. Blair is apparently very sensitive to magic, but he was never trained in the Way, so he can't control it."

Ruth put in, "That's why Apparation caused a migraine."

Her mind working on overtime as always, Hermione suddenly startled. "Ron, how are your family getting here tomorrow?" For the entire Weasly family were going to be there for dinner, including Charlie, Bill and Percy. It should prove to be an interesting evening, mixing Percy's stuffiness and Fred and George's prankster habits, along with all the other people who would be there and the fact that there would be four Muggles at the table who presumably wouldn't be able to defend themselves against magical pranks.

Ron might be slow on the uptake sometimes, but he had no trouble seeing the problem here. "I think they were planning on flying their brooms in now that Ginny is old enough. They'll just wait until the sun has set so they won't be seen."

"Well, brooms take a lot less power than Apparation, mostly because the spell has already been cast. It just takes a little to get them into the air and to control them, not even enough to need a wand." Hermione paused for a moment. "We'll need to send them an owl before they leave. We have to warn Fred and George not to use any wand magic."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, no kidding. You've got four Muggles at the table, and those two will see them as easy pickings, not to mention they'll get a shot at Percy. He's been such a sod lately about Harry."

Hermione nodded. "I think he actually believed what that Skeeter woman wrote." She sighed. "You know we won't be able to stop them from pulling something, even if they promise not to use their wands for a while. Too many tempting targets in the same room."

Ron snorted. "Yeah. Might be worth it to see Percy get his, though." Both teenagers grinned at that.

Hermione sobered. "I have an idea of where I might be able to get more information, but I'd need to either go to the Oxford Library of Magic or the Hogwarts School Library."

Ruth thought about it. "Hogwarts would be more defensible."

Jim mused, "Man, Blair would love to be able to go to either of those places." Hermione looked at him strangely, and he grinned at her. "You can take the man out of anthropology, but you can't take anthropology out of the man. He became a cop, but he uses what he learned as an anthropologist on the job, and he never gave up his love of the subject."

Ron gave them a sour look. "Oh, great! Another bookworm in your family is all we need." Hermione glared at him, but Ruth and Jim just laughed.

Jet lag not withstanding, by morning, Blair was feeling much better. He woke to Ruth's beautiful face watching his own and reached out to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Morning, love."

She smiled gently, loving it when he called her that. "Morning. Feel better?"

He nodded. "Mm-hmm. Just fine. How could I not be with this to wake up to?"

Ruth snorted. "He says to the person who caused his headache in the first place."

Blair shook his head. Figures. Yet another guilt-hog in my life. "This is none of your fault, Ruth Canon. You weren't the one in such a rush. I knew this would happen, I just didn't know how bad it would be. I have no one to blame but myself."

"But..."

"No. If I blamed you for the headache, I'd have to blame Incacha for not training me. I'd much rather blame the asshole who shot him and put him into that position in the first place. Fortunately, Yeager's in prison with so many charges he'll never leave unless it's to the morgue."

"Okay."

They emerged from the room about half an hour later and went into the kitchen for some breakfast. Jim was already in there, though he looked groggy as all hell. He glared at his partner. "You have no right being that upbeat this morning."

Blair just grinned. "Hey, I got more sleep than you did. That's the surefire cure for jet lag."

Breakfast was very light as was the custom in England, much to Jim's dismay. Ruth just chuckled. "Don't worry. Lunch will more than make up for it."

Blair was finally introduced to his future in-laws and to Ron. Then he asked the inevitable question. "So, where is Harry?"

Hermione's face clouded up. "He's still upstairs. He won't come down to eat. I just don't know what to do with him! I'm worried."

Jim looked at Blair, who nodded and said, "Why don't I bring him up a plate then? Maybe he won't feel so overwhelmed." Blair knew that Jim understood that he expected him to listen in, just in case he was needed.

The knock was soft, but Harry was wide awake. He hadn't been able to sleep the whole night, knowing that the nightmares awaited his return to the world of dreams. He also knew that they weren't that patient. They had already sought him out awake once, and there was nothing stopping them from doing it again.

The knock came again. Harry sighed and rolled off the bed, hoping just to make Hermione go away as he opened the door. But it was a stranger. "Hi. I'm Blair. I didn't figure you wanted to deal with everyone this morning, so I just brought you some breakfast up here."

Indeed, the curly-haired American had a plate in his hand with a couple of eggs and some toast on it, and a glass of juice in the other hand. Not really hungry, but not wanting to be rude in the face of such thoughtfulness, Harry said, "Thanks," and took the proffered items.

Blair said, "You mind if I come in? I'm not really used to this magic stuff yet, and I heard you were in the same boat once."

Harry shrugged. "Sure." Why not? "You're a Muggle?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, a cop. Completely different world, that's for sure."

Harry agreed, remembering his first glimpses into the wizarding world almost five years ago. "Yeah. It's so much better than the Muggle world, mostly, anyway."

"Uh huh. Haven't seen much crime in it, either. Not like with my world. Even before I was a cop, when I was still just an observer, I was held hostage more times than I care to count, shot, drugged, kidnapped, and drowned. Once, I was almost the next victim of a serial killer. David Lash. Man, was he a nutcase! He'd follow a person for a while, then kill them and take over their identity. And he was a good actor. He fooled a whole police station full of cops into thinking he was his own psychiatrist. He took me out of the apartment I share with my police partner, Jim. He wanted me because he thought I was a cool person, someone he'd like to be for a while. He brought me to this warehouse where he was planning on sedating me, just enough so I couldn't struggle, then drowning me in the nearby duck pond. Jim got there just barely in time. Of course, that didn't bring back the ones he had already killed."

Harry just looked at him. "Why are you telling me this?"

Blair shrugged. "It's just that I know it's hard. I've seen people get killed, people I knew, even cared about, and perfect strangers. That's something you know something about, isn't it."

He knows. He knows what it's like to face a madman who wants to kill you just for being who you are. He knows what it's like to walk out of that alive. Hesitantly, Harry said, "H-How did you deal with that? Knowing this person wanted you dead just because of who you were?"

"Time, nightmares, tears and friendship, and not being afraid to talk about it with someone who understood where things were in my head. My partner, Jim, is also my roommate. He'd come downstairs if I was in the middle of a nightmare and wake me up, let me cry on his shoulder. He let me rant when the anger came out, but he wouldn't let me take it too far. He took me to the gym a few times to take it out on the heavy bag."

Harry sat down on the side of his bed, absently stroking the feathers of the gorgeous snowy owl that stood on a stand in the corner. "It's not going to just go away, is it."

Blair remained silent, knowing that Harry had just been waiting for an excuse to talk to someone. He had just needed someone who knew what it was like, who would understand, at least a little, what he had gone through. The story came out in patches, the whole school year passing through the room as the food got cold and the walls around Harry's soul crumbled to dust. It was hardest as he got to the end, to Cedric's death and his own bare escape. And worst, of course, was that the demon who had haunted his life was now fully alive again. He would be coming, and Harry couldn't relax, afraid that the moment he did, one of his friends would become Voldemort's next victim. The unending struggle to stay alive and sane was beginning to wear on the young man, and Blair could only admire him for holding up as well as he had.

Harry said, "So why? Why do I always survive?"

Blair shook his head. Guilt. I should have expected that. "I don't know, Harry. Who knows why anything happens, or doesn't happen. But as long as you survive, just remember that it's up to you to be the best person you can be. Not the best student or the best wizard, the best person. That's the best way to honor those who didn't make it."

Harry thought about it, then nodded. He looked closely at the man before him, something tickling the edge of his consciousness, a feeling. "You sure you're a Muggle? There's something about you, something magic."

Blair's eyebrow rose. "You can sense that?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially if I'm not in a magic place. Wizards stand out far more in Muggle surroundings, since the backdrop isn't nearly so strong."

"I bet if you concentrate on that feeling, you'll sense that it's not quite the same feel as wizard magic. I'm a Shaman. Untrained, but a Shaman none the less."

Concentrating, Harry was astonished to find that Blair was entirely correct. What the American was exuding wasn't wizard magic at all! It seemed somehow brighter than that. "You feel like a ghost, only about a hundred times stronger."

Blair grinned. "Ghosts, huh? I can see that we're going to have a lot to talk about."

Blair was able to convince Harry that staying in his room wasn't going to help him deal with his demons. Ron and Hermione got him into the puzzle of finding Blair a trainer, trying to give him something to occupy his mind. It worked, at least for a while, and they were able to find a couple of things, just in the school books they had. The last known incident that had Shamen and wizards interacting was in ancient Egypt during the reign of Ramses II. The Shaman had been none other than Aaron, brother of Moses. One of the schoolbooks showed a hieratic tablet that recounted that incident in a little more detail than the Book of Exodus. There had been no less than twenty wizards standing against Moses and Aaron, but the Hebrew men had still won. No one had really been able to figure out why the Egyptians had fared so badly, not just in that encounter, but also in the plagues to follow. All of Egypt had suffered because of the Pharaoh's stubbornness, but everyone agreed that even for someone as obviously powerful as Aaron had proved to be, one man couldn't have been responsible for the devastation. Speculation had been rampant that Aaron had been supported by a bunch of other Shamen, hidden from the court, but Blair didn't think so. That didn't sound right. But he didn't have another theory to offer, not yet anyway.

The Weasly family arrived at sunset, when they could hide in the long shadows. Arthur and Molly rode in on an ancient Tandem Broom For Two, a broom that they'd gotten as a wedding present that held them both. They thought the thing was romantic. Fred, George, and Ginny were on Shooting Stars, older model Quiditch brooms. Charlie had a fireproof Dragoncatcher Model 5, which had a built-in Flame Freezing Charm imbedded in it, and Bill was on a simple Commuter. He didn't have much need for a fancy broom, so he'd bought the cheapest one he could find. Percy was on a company broom, requisitioned from the Ministry broom pool.

Introductions out of the way, Sarah and Molly got together in the kitchen, Molly interested in nonmagical cooking techniques, despite the fact that she always railed on her husband's fascination with the way Muggles did things. Both women had to chase almost every man out of the kitchen at least once, especially Fred and George, who kept trying to sneak spoons into the soup pot. They never got the soup into their mouths, of course. Molly was too used to their ways, and she was lightening fast with a wooden spoon. Both boys left the kitchen with red knuckles.

Blair and Hermione had to be torn away from their research to eat, which those who knew them best could only chuckle at. Two heads of long reddish-brown curls whirled around the giant stacks of books instead of just one, and instead of unconscious muttering, the study was filled with lively conversation that no one else could follow. Jim grinned at the sight, glad his friend had found someone to talk research with. Ever since he'd given up his career to protect Jim, academia had abandoned him. Blair had assured Jim that he didn't regret it, but he could tell the younger man was happy as a clam to have found someone with the same yen for knowledge who would actually talk with him and not care one whit about the press conference.

Dinner conversation was all over the place. Ginny seemed to have developed a crush on Jim, and Blair was hard pressed not to laugh as he tried to deflect her attentions. Fred and George had to know all about being Muggle Aurors. Fred's first question was how many times either of them had been shot and George's was if they had ever thrown up at a crime scene. Charlie got started talking about the North American Thunderbird, which was actually a feathered dragon. Bill and Percy got into an argument over procedure, and Molly threatened to lock them both in a black hole.

When talk turned inevitably to the situation at hand, the return of Voldemort, the arguments got started. Percy followed the party line of the Ministry, that Harry was mentally unstable and that he was wrong about Voldemort being back. He managed to alienate the Americans at the table immediately with his insensitive attitude toward Harry. Jim said, "If anyone had ever said something like that in front of a murder witness in one of my cases, I'd have a restraining order put on them, and if they ever came near that witness again, I'd arrest them. Harry's not my witness and this isn't my case, but if you ever say something like that in front of him again, you'll regret it." The look Jim was aiming at the third Weasly son had scared far stronger men, hardened criminals that would kill their own mothers for the right price. Percy shut up.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Sarah chose that moment to bring in the soup, hoping to engage mouths with something other than words. However, within moments of tucking in, first Blair and then everyone else started to feel funny. Remembering that the twins had been messing with the pot, Molly cornered them with a glare. "What did you two do!?"

The mischievous pair looked at each other and grinned. Soon it became very apparent that they had added something to the soup on those spoons they had been sticking into it during the cooking. In a transformation resembling that of an Animagus, every person at the table changed into some form of animal, something that resembled their personality. Unsurprisingly, at least to the two of them, Jim became a large black jaguar and Blair became a silver wolf. Ruth was a big red pit bull, which would not have surprised Captain Eric Swackey in the slightest. The biggest one was Charlie, who had turned into a small Mediterranean cave dragon. Thankfully, the dining room had a huge vaulted ceiling, so he didn't either hit his head or destroy the room, though he did topple the table. Harry and Hermione were a falcon and an owl, while Ron had become a red fox. Ginny was a spectacular little ocelot. Fred and George were still twins, chipmunks, while Bill was a gray squirrel and Percy was a weasel. Arthur had become a raccoon and Molly a banty hen. Sarah was a chatty cockatiel and Jeremy a big white German shepherd, a gentle giant. Everyone's minds were intact, though their instincts had changed to match their bodies.

Knowing exactly who was responsible for this predicament, if not how they had done it, the hen that was Molly Weasly flew after her chipmunk sons angrily, pecking at their heads when she got close enough. Ginny had stationed herself at the kitchen door to prevent their escape in that direction, while Harry, Hermione and Sarah rested on Charlie's neck ridges. Jim found that his senses had not increased in strength or clarity with his assumption of the form of his animal spirit, only his physical strength and balance. Blair and Ruth had lain down together, just watching the commotion with a great deal of amusement.

The situation escalated when, wakened by the noise of the hen and the cockatiel, Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger tom cat, came into the room to satisfy his curiosity. He didn't know what to make of all the animals in his living room, but he spotted the squirrel. He had been known to hunt squirrels, and seeing this one in such tight quarters, he couldn't resist stalking the beast.

Jim saw the smaller feline as he got ready to pounce on Bill. Keeping his claws retracted so he wouldn't hurt the animal, he swatted Crookshanks mid-leap, throwing him out of Bill's path to Charlie, who quickly picked him up to prevent a repeat attack. Jim ignored the cat after that.

Just five minutes later the strange feeling that had originally coursed through all of them was back. Guessing that this would herald either a return to their normal form or something worse, the four birds and the squirrel all headed for the floor and the raccoon got off the table. Everyone was ready when they either grew or shrank back into their human bodies, thankfully with clothes intact.

Molly was on her sons instantly, almost as if she had never left off from her previously-poultry self. "WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THAT SOUP!?"

Cringing, George said, "Gramenicae feracorpus."

Hermione said, "Beast weed? But how did you do it without anyone seeing you? Those things are huge!"

Fred answered her. "We dried the leaves, made a tea with them, and then dehydrated the tea to give us a powder. We've got a new confectionary idea, putting the powder into chocolate. We wanted to make sure that the powdering process didn't harm the effectiveness first, though."

Still mad enough to be shooting daggers out of her mouth, Molly shouted, "And of course you had to do it when it would be the most annoying! You two are going to be grounded for the rest of your lives if you keep this up!"

A thoughtful look on his face, Blair stepped into the conversation. "This beast weed, it's an herb?" Fred nodded. "Do you think you can perfect that formula, make it last longer, act faster?"

The Shaman certainly had everyone's attention. Fred and George looked at each other, making calculations in their heads. George said, "Probably. The powder was diluted in the soup, so it didn't last very long. It will always act in the same way, causing a person to become the animal which most closely resembles their personality, but duration can be extended by concentration."

Blair nodded. "That's good. I'd like you guys to do that. Go ahead and make your candy." A chorus of "Why?" rose around him. "Think about it. If we can make that effect last for say half an hour, depending on how fast acting it is, even those of us without magic to help them would have a defense against certain dark wizards. Sarah and Jeremy could escape much more easily, and Jim and I would be a very nasty surprise."

Both Jim and Ruth grinned. Jim chuckled. "I like it." He really liked the idea of fighting as a jaguar. He knew just how much like the big cat he really was, and this was just an extension of that. "It didn't affect your sensing magic?"

"No, I felt it, but it was closer to what I feel from the spirit world."

Harry said thoughtfully, "I know what you mean. I can sometimes feel a -presence- from certain magical things. Herbs, ghosts and magical creatures all have a different feeling than wand magic. The feeling I get from you is the strongest I've ever had."

Percy had been sulking during the entire conversation. Finally he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "This is ridiculous! You-Know-Who is NOT coming back! He's probably dead. Whatever happened during the Triwizard Tournament has just caused Harry to topple over the edge of sanity. I think the Minister should take his wand before he hurts himself or someone else!"

Harry just sighed. Ruth was ready to deck Percy. Hermione and the rest of the Weasly family looked ready to hold him down for her. But it was Blair who acted most quickly, and his methods were much more effective. His voice was cold, and full of warning as he said, "So you, who weren't there, know more about the situation than the one who was? How do you know? Did you use some kind of magic to spy on Harry and the other contestants? If you did, why didn't you tell everyone the truth, keep such lies from being spread?"

Percy sputtered. "Well of course I didn't see it, but..."

"But it makes more sense to ignore a potential threat because you don't want it to exist than it does to prepare for the worst just in case everyone who thinks Harry's lost his mind is wrong, is that it? And just how do you explain away the body, Percy? Are you going to try and pin it on Harry? Want to call the Ministry and say you've caught Cedric Diggory's killer? You can't deny the boy is dead, and the cause of death was obvious from what Ruth's told me about that particular curse. Any Auror worth their salt could tell if someone had died from it. Someone murdered him. Are you actually going to accuse Harry of what would be 1st degree murder back in the States?"

Cringing, Percy said, "Of course not. That would be absurd. It's not that I think Harry did it."

"Then who did?" Silence. "That's right. A man once said, 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'"

Stubborn, Percy said, "Well, what if someone else was there? Why does it have to have been You-Know-Who?"

"Inventing enemies now? Who else would have had any reason to kill Cedric? Not that Voldemort needed a reason." Percy flinched at the mention of the evil wizard's name. "Gods. The power you let him hold over you, and he doesn't even have to try."

Sour, and trying to change the subject, he said, "What would you know about it, Muggle?"

Blair shook his head. "I'm a cop. I deal with murder on a regular basis. Murder's murder, one human being planning and executing the death of another. The rest is methodology."

Percy just shrugged. "Fine. You lot can do what you want. I'll have no part in it." He took out his wand and, before Blair could even brace himself, shouted, "Apparate!"

As Percy disappeared, Blair grabbed his skull, groaning in pain, and collapsed to his knees. Jim, remembering how Blair would talk him through a sensory spike, started speaking in a low voice. "Where's it coming from, Chief? Find the source of the feeling. Take a deep breath and find what it is that lets you feel the magic. Don't forget to breath. Do you have it?" Blair took several deep breaths, still holding his head in pain, but he nodded. "Good. Now picture a dial, Blair, just like the ones you taught me to use. Now, take that dial and turn it down until it doesn't hurt anymore, number by number."

Minutes passed, the wizards all leaving the room to give the partners space to work. Blair tried, but he just couldn't find a way to lower his sensitivity. Soon the pain passed, but it was not through any effort on his part, merely the passage of time. Once he could sit up without worrying about vomiting, Blair said, "It's not going to work, Jim. We've got to find a Shaman." Jim nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly. "I have a feeling we're going to need every advantage we can get. That's why I asked the twins to perfect their formula. This guy isn't going to waste much time. He has his power back, so he won't see much reason to wait. We have to use that confidence against him."

Harry, who was close enough to listen, could only agree. There was a hint of pain in his scar, not the intense pain that would have indicated Voldemort was actively thinking about him, but just enough to be a warning. He was planning, making ready. It wouldn't be long, and they were going to need every weapon they could get their hands on. If one of those weapons was the more ancient magic of a Shaman, then they needed to get that Shaman trained as soon as possible. He turned from the doorway to Hermione. "Can I help you with your research?"

An eyebrow flew into her hairline. "You want to do research?"

Harry smiled a little, but it didn't last. "Yes. We need to find a teacher for Blair." Ruth turned her head to listen to their conversation. Harry ran a finger over his scar. "I think we're going to need him."

I hope you enjoyed this. Don't worry, Percy's not the bad guy. He's just a jerk. Things are weird at home, what with school, work, my cousin's kids and my BF, so things are going slow with my stories. I don't have a clue when the next one will be out. As always, feedback is most welcome.