As he pushed his way through the crowd in the smoke filled taproom of the Three Sisters, Bill felt his pocket to make certain that both his silver case and his moneybag were safe. He nudged past a particularly disreputable looking warlock, who he had met under rather unfortunate circumstances at least once before, and looked towards the large table at the back where his friends usually gathered. Bill noticed with relief that at least two of his mates were already there and that there was an unattended mug of red bitters next to his friend, Anders.

As he walked up to the table with a slight feeling of trepidation, he heard a deep voice call out, "Well, well, well, if it isn't old Long-lost Weasley."

As Bill smiled uncomfortably at Anders, the short, stocky man sitting next to Anders shouted, "Oi! Weasley! How's it going, mate?"

Bill greeted them both and dropped into the chair next to Anders with a grunt of exhaustion. "Who else is here?"

Anders ran a thin, scarred hand through his longish black hair and said derisively, "Ask Oakley."

Bill smiled slowly and returned a meaningful look with Anders before saying, "It's like that is it? Who is she?"

Oakley looked towards the direction of the witches' toilets and muttered, "I can always count on you lot to be supportive. Thanks. Her name's Sheila and you'd better not do any of your funny stuff, Weasley. I like this one and I don't need her knowing about what we did in school."

Bill raised one eyebrow and looked at Anders, who was blatantly thinking through various anecdotes for the best candidate, and allowed a deep laugh to spring forth as he warned his friend, "Don't put a challenge to Anders, you daft idiot. Look at him."

Oakley, who now looked positively grey from nerves, stammered, "C-come on, mates. Give a chap a break."

Bill peered at Anders and shook his head, "Not the hair-on-fire one, that wasn't actually his fault." Anders nodded in agreement and started to open his mouth when Bill said approvingly, "Yes, that one. The Amazing, Bouncing…."

Oakley moaned, "Noooo."

Anders snorted and said, "Cor, did you ever know a bloke who was easier to wind up? Of course we're not going to do anything to upset Sheila. Are we Weasley?"

Bill shook his head soberly and asked, "Is this she?"

Oakley turned around in his chair and sang out, "Sheila! You're back. I want you to meet one of my good mates from school. This is Bill Weasley."

The dark haired young witch extended a strong hand to Bill and said, "Pleased to meet you. I've read about you, of course."

Bill smiled politely and waited until the witch had sat down before he hastily gestured to a waitress and dropped back into a chair. After a few uncomfortable moments in which no one spoke, Bill asked, "What is it that you do, er, Miss…?"

The woman laughed and, with a slightly aggressive voice, commanded, "Call me Sheila. Everyone does. I'm in magical beast control. Private work, of course. Mostly a lot of jobs with garden gnome removals or doxy infestations, but occasionally an interesting one, such as the job of manticore repellence charms for the Irish Ministry that I did last year. Very satisfying work and frequently challenging, despite what you might think."

Slightly taken aback, Bill blinked at the woman whom Oakley was now kissing on the cheek and searched for a polite response, but it proved unnecessary. The witch raised her hand to Oakley's cheek and said in a sugary tone, "I think it's time to go Johnnie. I've promised my sister that we wouldn't be late."

Bill watched his friend stammer with confusion and say, "Oh. Right, right. Sorry mates. Eh, I'll see you later in the week, I expect. Good to see you again, Bill. Glad you could meet Sheila."

Bill caught the fleeting look that Sheila cast upon him and felt his stomach turn slightly. Both he and Anders stood watching their friend and his witch leave the pub before they turned to each other and shook their heads simultaneously.

"She's cooked her own goose."

"Has she? He looked happy enough."

Anders made a face at the mug of red bitters, as if its purchaser might suddenly reappear, and said, "When she explains to him why they really left then he'll nip that relationship in the bud. Poor sod."

Bill nodded and after a moment asked, "How have you been?"

At that moment the waitress arrived and asked, "Another round?"

Anders shook his head. Pointing to the two mugs on the table, he said, "That lot's gone, but I'd like another and Weasley here would like a strong Bloodwhisky - unless today is a day for black aquavit, Bill?" Bill grunted a response that Anders understood to be a negative and the waitress left them and went to fill their orders. Anders drained the last mouthful in his own mug and squinted at his friend. "I'm alright. Don't have much time for anything outside of work these days. Angela's fed up. She hasn't set an ultimatum yet only because she still thinks I'm some sort of bloody hero – Senior Auror for Escaped Convicts. All that means is that I'm minced meat if we don't get the bleeding Tavoillot brothers and soon."

" Kent no longer cooperating? I thought he'd fed you a lead. In fact I know he did because he wasn't very pleased last time I saw him - now that you've got Lefevre."

Anders shrugged his shoulders and answered, "No, he'll cooperate as long as we keep our end of the bargain. There isn't any direct proof on Dalgliesh and unless something falls at our feet we aren't looking for anything. So if Dalgliesh is safe and we don't even look in the same vicinity as Kent's little sister then Kent will pass on any information that he hears."

Bill asked seriously, "Any information or just any information that he hears?"

Anders laughed. "It only takes once to fall into that trap to learn my lesson, Bill. Shipley was a slippery little bastard and he's the jurisconsultant to half the wizards that we are looking for. I carefully worded the agreement this time. Any information pertaining to the location of the Tavoillot brothers that Kent receives through any method is to be passed on to Magical Law Enforcement within 3 hours of receipt. That reminds me. Your tip about Sellers was a success. He had a cupboard hidden just how you'd thought."

The waitress set a glass filled with a dark red liquid in front of Bill and a full mug next to Anders' hand and cleared the empties as Bill responded cryptically, "Industry standard spell."

"I'd assumed as much, though concealment charms are really your specialty, aren't they? Despite the fact that we are fairly confident that Dalgliesh was responsible for the slaughter of those two families in Hampshire, my superiors were far more willing to let us give up Dalgliesh to Kent than Kent's sister. I have never seen a sillier witch than Patience Snape and if she had any useful information then Kent would know it. He is so desperate to protect her that he would have told us anything he knows. I don't know what they believe they could accomplish from another interview with one of the dimmest Hufflepuffs I've ever interrogated."

Bill pursed his lips and after a moment replied, "There was something there in that marriage, Anders. His love for her was desperately real. She can't be as stupid as we think."

Anders' lip curled unpleasantly as he responded scathingly, "She is an incredibly beautiful witch. It doesn't take any imagination at all to understand her appeal to him."

Bill seemed to focus on a point far behind Anders' head as he considered something privately for several moments. Finally he said, "You might be right, of course. That is certainly the public opinion. In any case, I don't think that Snape would have dared to entrust any information with her either way. Even if he trusted her then he would not have risked putting her in danger. She is of no further use to you, I think."

Anders snorted as he set down his almost empty mug of beer. " Kent, however, is far more useful. He has a beloved sister to protect, a wife who seems to want to protect his sister almost as much as he does, a successful business which must keep Ministry approval in order to remain open, and a childhood friend for whom he seems to be willing to do quite a lot. Kent will do what we want, I think. Especially since his affiliations make him somewhat suspect, as well."

Bill's eyes narrowed slightly, but he merely said, "Be careful, Anders. Kent and his friends will only help you as long as you are useful to them. If they find someone else who can offer them a better deal then they will take it without compunction. You can't actually trust him for the long term."

Anders nodded. "I understand. I don't think even Kent's wife fully trusts him. I know what he is."

Bill leaned back into his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. Anders watched with amusement as Bill suddenly lifted his glass to his mouth and finished it off in one long draught. Bill slapped the glass back onto the table and smiled slightly as he asked, "McGruder coming tonight?"

"Probably. Surprised to see you, Bill. Glad though. Who is she?"

Bill raised his eyebrows in response and reached into his pocket. As he drew out a slim silver case he answered, "Problem is, I've known you too long, haven't I?"

Anders nodded and took the proffered case, flipping open the lid and dropping a pinch of silvery, dried needle-like herbs onto the surface. "Since first day of first year. You have that look. So let's have it." When Anders had finished with the case he handed it back to Bill, who then dropped a large pile of dried needles onto the surface. "Steady on, Bill."

Bill didn't respond until he'd placed the case back into his pocket. "That great uncle who always sent you the books on defensive magic, where was he from?"

" France, you know that. Why?"

"I meant which region?"

"Ah, I see. Brittany. That's why my mother was always afraid of him and convinced that he'd turn me to dark magic."

"I thought he was."

"Good, holy Mother. Don't tell me that you've chosen a Breton witch, Bill. Are you fond of being miserable?"

"Not particularly fond of it, no. I didn't know she was Breton."

"Well at least she doesn't wear the cap and apron then, apparently. I'm serious, mate. You're buggered."

"I know it."

"Are you serious about this, Bill?"

"Yes. I don't find it particularly amusing either, Gricius."

Anders choked on the mouthful of beer that he had just taken and glared at Bill. "Right, we've talked about that. Use that name and I pound you. Sorted?"

Bill shrugged, "If you think you can take me on, Gricius."

Anders clenched his fist and replied, "I still say that my father must have been under a Confundus charm when he named me, but don't change the subject. If you are serious then I'm on it. What do you want me to get Uncle Astaric to do?"

"I need to know what I'm up against. Am I even allowed to speak to her without parental permission? Because I have a feeling that I'm not. I went through formal negotiations with…for Fleur, but those were just a formality for tradition. From what I understand these Breton families are serious."

"Deadly serious, Bill. How far are you willing to take this thing?"

Bill frowned. "I don't really know. I haven't spent a lot of time with her, but it was instantaneous."

"Like before?"

"Not exactly, but the effect is the same. I know what I want, but I don't really know what I would be getting or even what she thinks."

"You mean you don't even know if she is interested."

"Right. She's young."

"How young?"

Bill's brows pulled together as he tersely replied, "Eighteen." His fingers tightened round his glass, which had just been placed on the table by the waitress. He didn't look up for several moments, but considered the blood red liquid in front of him.

Anders was watching his friend with a look of deep concern written on his face as he sighed and commented, "You must be very serious then. Look, I know a little bit about what you want to know, actually. I do know that she is the legal property of her family until marriage when 'guardianship' passes to the husband. Therefore anything she does has to be approved by the parents or else they can impose punishment, such as a complete wand restriction. I know that marriage to a muggle would result in a complete loss of magical rights inside France. I don't know what would happen to her if she married a wizard without complete familial approval."

"That is about what I expected."

Anders began to speak, but then said quickly, "Oakley."

Bill turned around and saw Oakley hurrying to their table. "I'm glad you two are still here. Look, Bill, I am sorry about before. I had no idea what she was on about. I thought perhaps I'd forgotten we were going to dinner at her sister's."

Anders patted the back of Oakley's old chair and said, "Not your fault, John."

Oakley refused to sit and fixed an earnest expression on Bill's frowning face. "Are we alright, mate?"

Bill looked surprised and answered solemnly, "Of course, John. I don't blame you. Most of the Wizarding world is still afraid that I'm contagious."

Oakley dropped into the chair and said with feeling, "Idiots do, you mean. Thanks, Bill. Let me buy the next round then."


"There isn't any real choice, Elisabeth. You know what my mother is like when she has decreed something. She has decided that to bring Father into Britain is tantamount to committing him to either death from the effects of the curse or a sentence in Azkaban. She is absolutely sure that the Undersecretary cannot resist the temptation to exact revenge for some of the comments that Father has made about him over the years."

Elisabeth groaned, "That sounds exactly like her. But would it really hurt to ask? My mother has told me that she would be too happy to write a formal request for visit to your mother. She knows how much I long to have you come and if you tell me what all the polite things to say in Brittany are then she'll say them and I'm sure your mother can't refuse then."

Gwen's expression seemed to look slightly more hopeful as she replied, "Well, your family is the sort that Mother generally approves. She won't want to antagonise any of the right sort in Britain for Father's sake. If your mother writes a terribly formal sort of letter then Mother might feel obliged to accept."

Elisabeth hopped up onto her knees from where she had been perching on the bed. "Oh, I know it will work! Then we'll have the whole break together to do whatever we want. I don't know how many more chances like this we'll have, since you'll be practically imprisoned in your uncle's home once you leave Hogwarts after NEWTs."

Gwen automatically reproved her friend as she was searching in her trunk for a sheet of clean, blue parchment. "I am not being imprisoned. It is merely more appropriate for me to live in my uncle's house, since he is conducting the negotiations."

Elisabeth bit her lip so as to keep from speaking her opinion aloud. She watched as Gwen carefully lifted a curtain of shiny, jet black hair so she wouldn't sit on it before settling on the floor in front of Cassiopeia's trunk. Gwen placed the parchment on the top of the trunk and asked, "Hand me my quill please?" Elisabeth snatched up a long pink quill and a crystal phial filled with violet ink from the top of Gwen's school bag and moved to the floor beside her. As Gwen smoothed out the parchment and prepared to write, Elisabeth asked excitedly, "Right, so what does Mum need to write?"