Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and Howl's Moving Castle belongs to Diana Wynne Jones

Things to be addressed… First, Sophie. No, Sophie shall not appear, because I did not think of how wonderfully she would fit, so I did not plot to find a way to sneak her to Hogwarts with Howl. And now, I can't find a way to do so… I'm hoping that I can spawn a few ideas and have a bonus chapter with Sophie, though. But as far as this fic goes, it's pretty much just Howl-centric. Second, the timeline. The first chapter was set during the book, near the end, at Howl's Rugby Reunion (around June 20th). The rest of the fic will take place post-book, heading toward the start of the school year and beyond. No one's asked about the Harry Potter timeline… there's nothing particular in mind, especially as I won't actually cover events of the school year, and Voldemort isn't scheduled to appear. But for the record, it's any time post-Chamber of Secrets.

Welsh Rugby
In which Howl's Muggle relatives are accosted

In hindsight, Dumbledore reflected that perhaps he should have heeded that "terrible dishonest coward" comment.

Howell Jenkins, it appeared, had run away.

This had not yet been confirmed, however. It might have merely been a mistake that the school owls could not locate the prospective professor. Possibly the drunken man had foiled him with a false name, throwing the whole game off a bit. Albus was not overly worried yet, for he had one last recourse.

A scrap of paper (he had thought to save it for his collection, as Muggle paper was much more interesting than parchment) lay on his desk, decorated with an address that hopefully would lead to Jenkins' whereabouts.

And really, a visit would be so much more personal than a letter.

Albus paused at the front gate of a yellow house. He glanced down at his scribbled note, then squinted back at the house; Rivendell, yes, this must be the right one. He admired the garden as he walked up to the quaint glass door; the place had an entirely Muggle charm.

He pressed the doorbell and waited, doing his best to look harmless and unassuming.

Soon enough, he saw a little girl come running up, hopping a bit to open the door. She stared at him for a long moment, thumb in mouth.

"Hello." Dumbledore smiled disarmingly. "Are your parents here?"

She pulled out her thumb to bawl back inside the house, "Mommy, there's a strange man at the door!" He decided not to take offense at that.

"Mari!" The woman was scolding as she approached, "How many times have I told you not to answer the door?"

"Least I didn't talk to him," the child retorted. Her mother, he assumed, pulled the girl behind her, half shutting the door as she did so. She studied Dumbledore now, a suspicious look on her face, which rather reminded him of his vanished teacher.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Albus twirled a stray end of his beard with a finger, hoping the woman would not be nearly as difficult as she looked. "Excuse me, madam, I was wondering if there might be a Howell Jenkins living here."

Her face hardened, and the door closed a bit farther. "No, he isn't. And he isn't going to be."

"Is he one of Uncle Howell's friends?" Mari tugged on her mother's leg insistently, "He dresses funny." She was sharply shushed in reply.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Ah, I take it you know him? Would it be too much to ask if you could give me his address?"

"He doesn't have an address." He felt it rather prudent to back away, as the woman's blue eyes blazed in anger. "My brother is a good-for-nothing bum, a shame on the family. He has no job, no permanent home, and he's a freeloader wasting all we've ever done to get him a good education and set him up well in life!"

If he had not been so determined not to have to find another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore might have slunk away down the sidewalk while she was ranting. As it was, he hoped to appease her, offering, "Actually, I'm here to see about giving him a job."

"Oh? And what good will that do him? Just look at you! You dress even worse than he does. Am I supposed to be proud that Howell's associating with even more riffraff? He's no right to come around disgracing us like this, and even less inviting strange people over to our house; it's bad enough, the ones he brings with him, but now he's handing out our address? My husband's coming home soon, I'll have you know, and you'd better be gone when he gets here!"

Mari popped her thumb out of her mouth, chirping, "Uncle Howell visits sometimes."

By the time Albus had parted his lips to reply, the door had been shut in his face. He blinked, chuckling to himself, "Why, I believe she's fairly worried about him."

As he walked away, he supposed he would simply have to arrive at the same time Jenkins was visiting.

…
to be continued
…

-Windswift