JKRowling owns Harry Potter and all the characters in that story.

FASA owns Earthdawn

The chapter was getting a bit long at 12k words and growing, so I decided to cut it in half. Ginny will appear in the next chapter along with a ghost from the past.

§ - Parseltongue will start and end with § and be in italics. §"Example of Parseltongue"§

—CS—

Special thanks to my Beta Reader, the 'MoleOfWar' for the excellent feedback and diligent work in making the story better.

Hogwarts

The Quidditch Pitch

Thursday Afternoon

October 4, 2001

Harry and Bill were sitting in the Hogwarts bleachers watching the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch practice match, also known as a 'friendly'. The bleachers were made from faded wood and creaked with each shift of weight. At one time they had been coloured according to Houses, but that was long ago. Decades of weather exposure had faded the bleachers to the point that the original colours were hard to ascertain.

There was a familiarity here that brought Harry back to his first Quidditch match. He never forgot the feeling of freedom he felt when he first rode a broom. The predatory hunger when he pursued and caught his first Snitch. The thrill of victory after years of being told he was inferior. These were the happy memories from Hogwarts.

Looking about, Harry noticed the leaves on the trees were changing colours. The air had a mild bite to it, but it wasn't really cold, just cooler than London. Kreacher had bundled Teddy up in a light winter cloak and the excited child seemed fine. Fawkes had joined them on this outing; apparently he had nothing better to do. Teddy was sitting with Professors Flitwick and Sprout fifteen feet away while Harry and Bill discussed other matters.

Bill handed Harry a large sheet of parchment with a detailed arcane schematic on it. "I've mapped the curse on the Defence position and it's not overly complex. Without the Diadem to anchor it, there isn't much holding it in place. We should be able to remove it without much fuss."

Harry reviewed the diagram. "I would have expected more, given who created it." This was a very straightforward curse.

"He created it in his early years, but it's still quite good. Sometimes the simple curses are the best." Bill then explained, "If you can't locate the anchor, it'll just come back over and over. Simple, but brilliant."

"What a waste." Harry handed the parchment back to Bill. "Imagine what he could have accomplished…" He let that thought trail off as he noticed Bill glancing up to watch the friendly. He poked Bill with the edge of the document.

Bill took the parchment, then looked back at match. "Those Cleansweeps are much nicer than what we had to play on. What model was it again?"

Harry said, "Those are Cleansweep elevens. It's a respectable upgrade from the already very nice seven series."

"Clearly a chaser broom." Bill leaned forward and added, "Although I could see it used by seekers as well. Fast and stable."

Harry noted the chasers seemed to really excel on the broom. "Yeah… Your mother gave one to Ron, I think. Maybe it was a seven. Whichever it was, he flew it better than he did my Nimbus or Firebolt." He remembered how much Ron had loved that Cleansweep. "Whatever happened to it?"

Bill shrugged, "No idea. Probably stolen or lost in the war. Mum really went all out when she bought that broom. I chipped in a bit… we all wanted Ron to have more confidence. You know, it really wasn't a great keeper's broom, but he loved it."

Harry pointed to the Ravenclaw keeper. "The Comet 360 is a hell of a keeper's broom." As he said it, the keeper performed a spinning acrobatic to deflect a Quaffle. "I kind of want one."

A gust of wind brought the smell of cut grass, dried leaves, and damp earth. Early autumn was his favourite time of year. There was also a faint hint of smoke from fireplaces lighting up in Hogsmeade. It all made Harry think of Hagrid. All those visits to his hut for tea with a roaring fire in the corner. He'd have to stop by and see the large fellow.

He then noticed Minerva had come to join them. He watched her slowly ascend the bleachers, noting the nervous reactions of the students in her vicinity. Clearly, she had been the one doling out punishments. Who was her assistant Headmaster? Harry didn't recall Albus issuing many punishments, it was usually McGonagall or Snape. He then decided not to think about those awful years.

Harry and Bill both stood up to meet Minerva as she approached. She was wearing a hunter green tweed cloak over simple back robes. A tall peaked hat sat comfortably on her head with a plain scarf wrapped around her neck. She ascended the steps with a confident stride that made her seem younger.

Minerva was just as stiff and stern as he remembered, tall and slim with her hair pulled back under the hat in what was likely a tight bun. Stiff as she was, she seemed to light up when she looked at Bill. Harry had always suspected Bill was her favourite Gryffindor of all time. Whether he was or not, he knew she hadn't ever been so happy to see him. Their animosity had softened over the years, but he and Minerva would never really be at ease around each other. There was just too much history there. It was a wonder she had asked him to teach.

"Good afternoon Gentlemen." She looked at Harry and smiled, her eyebrows raised a bit. "You are looking much less armed than the last time I saw you."

Harry picked up on her amusement. "I don't like exposing Teddy to sharp objects or firearms." He really should have worn light armour. Was he getting lazy?

Minerva pursed her lips and nodded. "A very mature decision." Bill offered her his hand as she casually sat between the two of them. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Mr. Potter." She smirked with obvious delight. Harry tried not to scowl as the two men sat down beside her.

She then asked, "How goes the match?"

Bill gave his trademarked 'prince charming' smile and said, "They're still adjusting to the brooms. There's not a lot of rivalry between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, so it's all been pretty clean."

Fawkes landed on Harry's shoulder and nuzzled his face. Harry stroked the Phoenix's head and neck while the bird sang softly. He felt his spirits lighten with each note. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Minerva staring at his familiar.

She said, "It'll be nice to have Fawkes back in the castle. He looks so beautiful. So peaceful." She started to reach out to stroke his feathers, then changed her mind. Her eyes seemed misty and her mouth had the most curious smile. Like she couldn't decide if she was happy or sad. Harry knew this look very well.

"Go ahead, Professor. He remembers you." Harry could just tell. Minerva then gently stroked Fawkes' back while the Phoenix trilled softly. Harry changed the subject. "I see the brooms made it. When did they arrive?"

Minerva looked out at the players. "The new Brooms arrived Monday." Her shoulders stiffened. "It was a welcome distraction from the other disciplinary actions we've been dealing with."

Harry said, "No more rumbles in the trophy room?" He couldn't help but smile slightly.

Minerva sat a bit straighter. "This is not a laughing matter, Mr. Potter. Harry." Clearly she had picked up on his amusement. "The animosity between Houses have decreased significantly. It was primarily a handful of students influencing the others."

Bill added quietly, "They've been dealt with. The new brooms showed up at just the right time to distract the other students from… the other issues."

Minerva said, "Agreed. The timing was quite fortuitous." Her eyes followed a set of chasers manoeuvring around the pitch. "It seems the students are doing very well on them."

Bill said, "For most, it was an upgrade. The Cleansweep 11 is a very nice broom."

Minerva adjusted her gaze upward toward the circling seekers. "The Nimbus 2001's are perfect for Seekers. I'm expecting an amazing Quidditch year. With a little luck, the Quidditch rivalry will quell the thirst for other forms of violence."

Harry had to look away at that comment to hide his eye roll. Did Minerva really think Quidditch could fix everything? If only muggles could play, it might end famine and war. World peace could be attained through Quidditch. Fawkes nipped painfully at his ear, shaking him from his thoughts. The bird didn't like it when he brooded.

Bill pointed toward the goals. "Minerva, check out the Comet 360. Have you ever seen a broom that nimble?" The keeper was casually spinning about between goals while the Quaffle was at the other end of the field.

Harry said, "It's perfect for aerial combat." He'd have to get one. Or maybe a Viper 'Sidewinder'. The trend for high manoeuvrability over speed was intriguing in newer broom designs.

Minerva looked at him. Her brows creased together and the corners of her mouth seemed tight. "There is more to life than combat and violence, Harry. I'm sorry your time here was so rife with…" She let the thought trail off and took a deep breath, looking down for a moment. "Your gift is appreciated."

Bill stood up, placing the folded parchment under his arm. "Alright. I'm going to prep for the Defence Against the Dark Arts curse. Harry, come find me when you're ready." He walked off, leaving Harry and Minerva. Now their buffer was one and they'd be forced to interact.

Minerva broke the ice. "The other Brooms arrived as well. The Comets 260 and Cleansweeps 7. The 260's are perfect for beginners and those less adept on a broom. The sevens are very nice for the more advanced fliers." She absentmindedly rubbed her hands together. "In truth, most fliers will never need more than the two sixty series. It's a very reliable and stable broom. One of the bestselling brooms on the market."

Harry simply nodded. The Comet 260 was the 'Honda Accord' of the broom world. A few weeks ago, he and Hermione had joked about car to broom comparisons while Ron just glazed over with incomprehension. Hermione laughed. Fact is most people don't need a Lamborghini or a Ferrari. Same with a Nimbus or a Firebolt.

The sound of a whistle pulled him out of his thoughts. Looking up, Professor Hooch blew her whistle a second time as two seekers were made to separate after a 'cobbing' foul. There apparently was a bit of rivalry amongst the Seekers. Hooch was really getting into this friendly. By the looks of it, so were Teddy and Pomona. The small boy was now on her shoulders cheering loudly.

Harry casually watched the Quidditch Chasers race about and asked, "Has there been any progress in adopting amateur rules?"

Minerva gave a short nod. "The proposal has been submitted. I'd be very surprised if it isn't accepted. We have, after all, been using an amateur Snitch for years now." She tilted her head and gazed off for a moment. "We tried using a professional Snitch years ago, before you were a student… One match lasted thirty-seven hours!"

Harry said, "Thirty-seven hours?" How could that be possible? Did they have reserve players? "I bet that made classes difficult on Monday."

Minerva gave him an amused look. "On a good broom, most Seekers can catch an amateur Snitch simply by outrunning it. A professional Snitch is an altogether different challenge. It requires skill and resourcefulness. You have to box it in and predict its movements." She chuckled and shook her head. "That's why so few amateur Seekers ever become professionals."

Fawkes made a gentle chiming sound as Harry softly stroked the bird. He thought about what Minerva had said and his own experiences playing. The hardest part for him had always been just spotting the Snitch. Catching it was more of a race against the other seeker, but one of them would almost always catch it. That wasn't true for any of the professional matches he'd seen.

Harry asked, "How fast are Professional Snitches?"

"They get faster with each release and are upgraded every few years. With the current model, most seekers would need a Firebolt just to play competitively." With a slight pause, she added, "A talented Seeker could get by with a newer Nimbus model. You must understand, simply outrunning a professional level Snitch is near impossible, they're just too nimble. All professional Seekers spend a great deal of time developing strategies to corner and trap the Snitch. Amateur level Snitches are upgraded less frequently. They tend to move at perhaps two thirds the speed of a professional model, but are still quite manoeuvrable."

Harry recalled having to slow down as he approached the Snitch. At full speed, it'd dodge about too much, and he'd likely have flown past it. But he never doubted it would be caught once he was on the trail. Provided he didn't get knocked off his broom.

Minerva added perspective. "Matches lasting over six hours are hard on the school, not to mention the players. Most teams only have a few alternates. Use of a professional Snitch is not possible."

"Is the Nimbus 2001 overkill?" Harry then said, "The Cleansweep 11 could do the job fine. Honestly, I always thought his Nimbus 2000 was the better all-around broom, it's a shame it was taken out of production for the only slightly faster 2001 model."

"The 2000 was a very nice broom, but the 2001 should be fine. They'll ensure the games finish before curfew. I don't remember you complaining about having the only Firebolt." Minerva chuckled a bit, then straightened her back and adopted her 'all business' look. "You'll be happy to know your proposal for House mentors was very well received amongst the staff."

"Good to hear. Cedric loved the idea, too." Why the stiffness?

"Yes… I'm afraid I must ask you to discuss these matters with me before approaching potential mentors, however." She was still smiling, but her face took on that pinched look he knew all too well. "Selecting who to approach for a position at the school must reside with me and my staff."

Harry didn't say anything, but gave a curt nod. Soon he'd be on the staff.

"That said, Pomona and I would agree that Mr. Diggory would make an excellent Hufflepuff mentor. The board still has to approve the program, of course."

"Right." Harry resisted the urge to shake his head. Minerva always followed the rules. He said, "Well, I have a bit of sway there. Who have you considered for the other Houses?"

"That is a difficult set of choices. Too many good options would be counterproductive to improving relations between the Houses. The year of occupation damaged so many lives. I'm sure you would agree we need mentors without prejudices or preconceived notions of House superiority if we are going to return Hogwarts to a place of safety and education."

"Was it ever a place of safety?" He changed the subject before she could answer. "You want to avoid 'mentors' with blood prejudice or an axe to grind. What about Andromeda?" Minerva's eyebrows came together again as she adopted the 'pinched face'. Was it his 'safety' comment or his suggestion?

"While I have no doubt Lady Black would be a calming presence, she is much too political. Also, she's already a benefactor, so it would be best to choose another. It must be someone the students can relate to." He knew she was right, but the immediate rejection annoyed him. Why couldn't a benefactor be a mentor?

Minerva continued, "Please remember, there are decades of students before your time to draw from. What Hogwarts needs people who are not socially or politically polarizing. William would have been excellent, but he's a teacher… Perhaps Oliver Wood…"

Harry did a double take, "Are you kidding me? Ollie's a great guy, but do you really see him promoting inter-House harmony?" Oliver hated Slytherin House. Harry then imitated his old captain. "Let's all be friends! But you can't trust a snake! Those Badgers only act nice when the referee's watching! Ravenclaw is full of overthinking Nancy-boys!" He even pumped his fist the way Oliver used to, just to drive it home.

"No. Perhaps not Oliver." Minerva chuckled a bit. "It's worth noting that people do grow up." Harry wondered if it was a subtle barb directed at him.

At that moment, a Hufflepuff chaser made a dazzling aerial display and scored a goal. Harry then watched Teddy cheer and Pomona grasp his hands as they begin chanting some Hufflepuff slogan together. She really seemed to like Teddy. Had she been close to Tonks? Harry knew so little about her time here.

Harry clapped. "I never really paid much attention to Chasers unless I was disrupting their plays." The professional scoring for catching the Snitch made it almost unimportant. Amateur rules changed the game.

Minerva interrupted his thoughts. "Harry, how is your lesson plan coming along? Remember, you're also teaching Introductory broom riding."

Damn. "The Broom riding is fine. Personal time and patience, along with proper form and hand position." Harry let out a breath. "Where I'm having difficulty is with the Elemental class. Everyone will be starting from the same point, but the older students will have a greater attunement to their magic. Probably better attention spans as well."

"Yes, but where attention is concerned, I suspect you'll find the 'hormonal years' to be the worst. I can assure you, it will not the first and second year students." She was still watching the game, but her advice was sound. "Third through fourth years are the most distracted. The young witches lose focus a bit earlier than the young wizards."

Minerva then looked at him and chuckled. "You'll have it especially hard." What was that supposed to mean?

Teddy distracted him as the child began squealing and clapping, signalling the game had ended. It looked like the Hufflepuff seeker caught the Snitch given the number of badgers that were suddenly celebrating. Game over.

Minerva clapped politely and said, "I suggest working with Neville or Filius on the lesson plan. William struggled with his lesson plan for NEWT curse breaking for similar reasons. There is a vast difference between sixth year students and seventh." Harry nodded and she continued. "I'd recommend setting aside a few evenings on your South American trip to compare notes and finish up a first draft. Once you return, you can review it with one of the more experienced teachers."

"I'll talk it over with him over dinner." Solid advice. "We're meeting in Hogsmeade."

Minerva then began straightening her cloak. "Excellent, I'll leave it to the two of you to collaborate on your trip. You'll be happy to hear that Neville has already begun coordinating with Castelobruxo and is quite excited about the trip."

Seeing she was about to leave, Harry asked, "I also wanted to see if you would be open to a course in magical photography." Then he added, "An elective, of course."

"We already have a photography club." She stopped preparing to leave and settled back. "How would this differ?"

"I'm not just talking about photography. I mean magical development as well. Something that could lead to a job or a career. Colin blew most of his savings learning the art and…" He struggled with how to say this… "Well, I just think he'd do well here."

"I see. Can I assume this would be funded by your endowment?"

"Yes." Seeing her consider, he added, "He needs friends and family, Professor. He's all alone."

Minerva's eyes softened. "Yes, well, we can't have that…" She actually smiled. "Have Mr. Creevey contact me and we'll set up an interview."

Harry let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Thank you. I know you won't regret this." Harry then handed Minerva a pair of very nice wand holsters and two books on Wizarding society.

He said, "I hate to ask, but would you mind giving these to Frank and Brenda…?" He paused a moment to recall anything about the two. "They were first years and I don't remember their full names or where they were sorted. Let me know if any other Muggle-raised students need a copy."

Seeing her confusion, he added, "I rode in the boat with them."

She peered at him over her glasses. "You always did look after those in need. It's one of your best qualities." She thumbed through the book for a moment. "Perhaps we can add a few copies to the library."

"Thank you." For no real reason, he added, "Hermione said that was one of the best introductory books."

Looking up, Minerva asked, "How are your plans coming for a summer school?"

"Excellent! My lawyers are forcing the ministry to foot the bill and find a suitable location. Hopefully somewhere in Diagon Alley."

Minerva stared at him a moment, "However did you manage that?" Her eyes seems to bulge as her eyebrows raised up to her hat.

"They owe me a small fortune and my legal team is negotiating compensation. Trust me, this is only a fraction of what they'll pay." Seeing her confusion, he said, "They raided my family's property for Mana and Orichalcum. Other stuff, too."

"That's unfortunate." She paused, then said, "It's very noble of you redirect compensation like this. Your parents would be proud."

There were a good thirty seconds where neither of them moved. Her last words seemed to hang there. Harry had maliciously rejected her once before and he really didn't want to go down that path now.

"Minerva, I'd love it if the incoming muggle-raised students could meet some of the staff, maybe a few of the prefects as well. Do you think we could incorporate this in with their first shopping visit?" Her shoulders tensed up and Harry could sense the resistance.

Remembering how Andromeda would encourage contribution from potential political adversaries, Harry said, "I'm open to any ideas you may have." The words almost hurt as he said it. He'd really have to get past his issues.

Minerva hummed a moment. "Mr. Potter, I'm not opposed to active participation from Hogwarts, but I'm not sure we're being realistic. How many first year Muggle-born children do you think arrive at Hogwarts each year?"

"I don't know… maybe a dozen or so?"

Minerva pursed her lips. "Usually there are five or six in a year. Some years there are none. I can't remember a year when there were more than nine muggle-born first years. And there are hardly ever any Muggle-raised children that are not Muggle-born." She then added, "You were the first in a very long time."

Harry stopped and considered this. "What about Dean? Dean Thomas? He was a Muggle-raised Half-blood."

"His parentage was never established, so he was classified as a Muggle-born." She continued, "Before the war, there were forty-six Muggle-born students. After the war, there were twenty seven. This year there are thirty three and next year, there will be five more joining and three graduating."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Five… I don't know if that's enough for a training class."

A loud squeal followed by laughter caught his attention. Teddy was on the pitch with Pomona and she seemed reluctant to let him go. They were surrounded by cheering badgers. Teddy's Hair was jet black and his face was Yellow.

Minerva said, "It could be a small study group. Perhaps you can include the older Muggle-born students? They could do to learn a bit about wizarding culture."

"Right. But I wanted this to be a welcoming event as well as training. I suppose I just thought there were more…" He wondered why he had thought that. "I guess five would work."

Minerva continued, "Before the war, there were more Muggle-born students. You saved a number of them, but not all. Great Britain has never had anywhere near as many as other countries. Fewer Squibs as well."

"Right. Damn. I wonder why Daphne never told me this. Or Draco…" Had Draco ever told him this? Didn't they discuss some of this years ago on the train?

"Harry, surely you don't expect two former Slytherin students to know the details of how many Muggle-born there are. I shudder to think how many they might feel exist." She looked at her palms for a moment. She had apparently been clenching her hands and her nails left small crescent marks. "In truth, most Muggle-born come from descendants of Squibs. Something re-activates the magic that had been long since dormant… But they're not common. Then there are the unfortunate results of wizarding adultery. We only think they're Muggle-born."

Harry put his hands in his cloak. "I have to think about this. Yes, they all probably need training. Educating. But, five a year?" No, that's a more personal number. "Maybe a few older students could participate, but I don't want to run the risk of alienating students based on negative exposure from… pissed off Muggle-borns?" he hated being so crass, but the words just seemed spot on.

"Perhaps a welcome event for first years, followed by instruction for all years. The mentors you've proposed can assist." Minerva tilted her head and looked intently at him, she seemed pleased with her idea.

"Maybe. Right. Maybe. But if the training is before the sorting, that makes early mentoring a challenge."

Minerva adjusted her scarf. "Would that really be such a bad thing? A little cross-House mentorship for the Muggle-born students. Or all four mentors could participate equally in introductory exposure. It wouldn't help to reach out to their guardians, either."

"Right. I hadn't thought of that." Harry wondered where this helpfulness was when he was a student. Enough! He had to let that go or the next year would be terrible.

He changed the subject again, "I'm glad the brooms are working out." Harry said as he stood up. He held out his hand and helped the Headmaster up as well. Was it Headmaster or Headmistress?

"The brooms were a much needed and very generous donation." Minerva took his hand and, once risen, began straightening her robes. "You'll also be happy to learn the potions professor has agreed to stay on another two years. She was quite eager to work with you. Apparently, the Peverell name carries weight amongst the magical natives of Wizarding America."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. "That's good news. I… I need to research the Peverell family a bit more, I suppose. Well, Bill and I have a curse to break. I'd rather do that during daylight hours. Maybe I can persuade Pomona to keep Teddy a little longer." Fawkes had flown over to circle Teddy and the students.

Minerva looked at Pomona and Teddy, then said, "I don't think that will be a problem. Nymphadora was one of her favourites. Perhaps even more so than even Mr. Diggory." Teddy was still on her shoulders babbling a song about badgers and Snitches. "I look forward to seeing more of you."

Harry smiled and nodded as Fawkes flew over and landed on his shoulder. Minerva descended the bleachers and left.

Harry turned to his familiar. "Ok Fawkes, let's go break that curse."

—CS—

Hog's Head Inn

Austere Avenue, Hogsmeade

7PM Thursday Evening

October 4, 2001

Removing the curse took a good three hours. Teddy was having trouble staying awake when Harry picked the boy up. He'd been with Pomona all day and the two had worked in the greenhouses together. Teddy was quite filthy, but had enjoyed this day tremendously. Harry had summoned Kreacher to take him back to Grimmauld Place and clean the child up with promises to be home soon. He and Bill then walked to the Hog's Head Inn. Fawkes had elected to leave with Teddy.

The Inn was in the early stages of restoration and remodelling, there were wards set up to keep out the curious and the dishonest. Already keyed into them, Harry opened the wards and the two entered the grounds. There were bricks and lumber and other construction materials stacked around the perimeter of the building. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of sawdust and varnish.

The interior walls had been stripped to the studs and the dark panelling on the exterior walls had been removed, revealing original brick. The first level was an obvious work zone. The only semi-finished area was the antique bar. It had been refinished to a condition it had likely never been in before, mixing old hand carved wood styling with burnished brass fittings and furnishings. The grain of the wooden bar had been restored, revealing a stunning bird's eye maple bar top. It was a gorgeous piece of carpentry in the centre of a massive work in process.

There was a modest amount of light coming in through the windows, but the sun would be setting soon. Harry cast a Lumos charm on the ceiling and led Bill to a small table in the corner, away from the center of the construction area. It was one of the few tables not in the process of refinishing and was likely in use by the construction crew during the day. The two wizards sat down across from each other and settled into a pair of slightly rickety chairs.

Harry called out, "Frankie!"

A moment later, the miniature house elf appeared. "You's call, Master?"

Harry always flinched a little when referred to as 'Master'. "Yes, Frankie. Can you bring us a bottle of Firewhisky and three glasses? All the stock should still be in the basement." Hopefully no one had disturbed the wine and liquor cellar. He'd have to check the lock before leaving.

The small elf then disapparated, only to appear moments later with a bottle of Firewhisky, a tray holding three glasses, three small plates, forks, napkins, and a platter of Irish poutine.

Steam rose off the poutine and Harry felt his stomach rumble in hunger. "Frankie, when did you make this?" He and Bill were already digging in and pulling generous amounts of poutine onto the smaller plates.

Frankie said, "Miss Pipsey says Master Harry loves poutine. I makes it when you's leave Hoggy-warts." He seemed especially proud. "Does Master like?" His time with Pipsey had done wonders for his state of mind.

Harry swallowed the bite he'd taken. "Very nice, Frankie. Thank you. This is excellent, we'll have to make sure it's on the menu when we re-open."

Bill swallowed with a grin. "Frankie, this is the best!" Bill poured Firewhiskyin all three glasses, Neville was due soon. "I gotta say, if you keep making poutine like this, I'll be a regular customer. The corned beef is perfect."

Frankie was positively beaming with pride. "It's Frankie's pleasure to serves you."

Harry asked, "Would you like to pull up a chair and join us?" Harry noted Frankie suddenly looking shocked.

The startled elf said, "No, sirs…" His head was shaking emphatically, large ears flopping about. "Frankie has too much to do…" He then disapparated, leaving Bill and Harry to talk.

Harry said, "Neville should be here soon, he had a few tasks to wrap up." He took a small sip of his Firewhiskyand grimaced. "I need to improve the liquor here. This is pretty harsh." He coughed a bit as smoke flew from his mouth. Firewhisky always created smoke, but this smoke had a bite to it.

Bill took a sip and grinned. "You're just used to the top shelf stuff at Grimmauld place. This is pretty average." He then blew a smoke ring. "Don't price your bar out of business. Most people won't pay for the stuff you drink."

"Good advice, thanks." Harry chuckled, then took another sip. "I'll have to keep a personal stock here, though. This is strong." The smoke stung his eyes slightly.

"I wanted to tell you I was proud of the way you dealt with Minerva. I could tell the comment she made about being unarmed irritated you."

"Yeah. I bit my tongue." He then straightened up and pursed his lips. "Mibbie thare is hawp fur ye yit!"

Bill laughed and shook his head. "She does not sound like that." But he was still smiling.

"Ah juist loue ta watch Quidditch." Harry sat up even straighter and placed his hands on his hips. "We kin solve a' o' th' world's problems if we kin juist git Muggles ta ride th' brooms."

Bill was smiling, but only a little. "Is this a taste of what the teacher's lounge will sound like?" He took another bite of poutine. "You really do need to make more of an effort. Today was good, but I worry you'll say or do something you'll regret."

"Yeah, I know. Andromeda says the same thing." As does Daphne. "She tries to be funny, but it comes off as forced."

"Minerva? She's trying too, Harry. I promise, this is harder for her than it is for you." Bill took a small sip of Firewhisky. "And for the record, she is funny. In a dry and sarcastic way."

"You just love her because you're her favourite." Harry settled back and changed the topic. "I wish Aina could have made it tonight." She had a previous engagement.

Bill set his glass down and gently tapped the table. "About that… Do you really think she's a good backup? I only ask, because we don't really know anything about her."

Harry swallowed his poutine. How much could he really share? "I do, Bill. She knows her stuff and we've been in regular communication." Where was this all coming from? "I've checked her out thoroughly."

Bill gave him a wary look and took another sip. "It seems wrong not going with you." He casually blew an impressive cluster of smoke rings. "I wish I knew her better."

"She's good, Bill. Really good." Was this a little curse-breaking withdrawal? "Seriously, she's got the raw power and the knowledge. It'll be strange not sharing a tent with you, but your family needs you." They'd travelled together for the last three years, now he'd be traveling with a woman. They'd have separate tents of course. "It's really just a scouting mission."

"How many times have you said that before?" Bill smirked as he took another sip of his drink. "OK. I'd still like to help remotely when you're ready to break the curse."

"Absolutely." Harry watched Bill blow another smoke ring. "Alright, how do you do that? It can't just be the shape of the mouth."

Bill snorted. "First, you make a round mouth. Then you push the smoke out with the centre of your tongue. The tip of the tongue stays connected to the inside gum below the lower front teeth. Don't blow air, just push with the flat of the tongue." He then demonstrated and created a decent ring.

Harry took another sip, let the smoke build up, and followed the directions. He saw what looked like a moderately round ring come out of his mouth, but it was completely disrupted when he coughed. Both men had a good laugh and dug into the poutine.

After a few minutes, Bill said, "Thanks for coming up and helping with the curse. I thought it was simple and it was, but you never really know."

"Rule number one, never work alone." Harry thought about Julia. "I keep thinking about Julia." Had it really been a simple curse that got her? She was very good.

"Yeah. Her death was one of the reasons…" Bill sat back and rubbed his neck.

Harry knew it was one of the reasons Bill had taken the teaching job. "Bill, what are the odds it was an accident?"

"I couldn't say. From the site records, it looked like either a mistake or sabotage." He leaned forward and the chair creaked. "If I had to bet, I'd say it was a mistake. She had no backup and the ward had a redundancy built in." Bill stared at the plate a moment, his eyes narrow. He wasn't convinced.

"Who would want to sabotage an expedition?"

Bill rubbed his chin, then took another sip of whisky. "There are lots of grass roots movements springing up that go after curse-breakers. They call us tomb robbers and say we're stealing their culture and history." The smoke curled around his face, adding a gritty feel to the statement.

"That's crazy." He noted Bill didn't comment further. "Right?"

Bill looked at the wall for a moment, then said, "I don't know. How would you feel if someone from Asia snuck into Britain, found Merlin's Tomb, and then stole the contents?" After a dramatic pause, he added, "Imagine how we would feel knowing Merlin's corpse was on display in some foreign museum. That artefacts going back to the founding of Magical Britain was displayed outside of Britain."

Harry winced. "Yeah, that would kind of suck."

"One of the nicest things Sirius ever did was buy out my contract. Gringotts used to focus on finding historical sites of known importance. Usually in some of the most dangerous areas of the world… Areas where we weren't wanted or welcome." Bill flicked a wood shaving from the table. "You and I focus on prehistoric and forgotten sites. We even donate most of the cultural findings to the local governments."

"Not the really dangerous stuff." Not the truly ancient stuff either. "Never that."

Bill had a gleam of pride when he looked at his onetime apprentice. "Yeah. The most dangerous part of being a curse-breaker was knowing you had to watch what was in front of you and who was standing behind you."

Harry had heard this spiel before. All curse breakers tended to be mistrustful of strangers. He let Bill continue to work through his thoughts. It was better than listening to him talk about Minerva.

"Some of the guides you hire only want you dead. Some want to preserve the site and keep you out. The others just want to steal what you recover." Bill lapsed into silence, then asked, "Are you sure you trust Aina?"

"Yes, Bill. I absolutely trust her." Harry then felt a presence outside the wards. "Neville's here." He was glad for the interruption. Bill wanted to know more about Aina and he couldn't share all he knew.

As Neville entered the room, strolling in with long strides and quickly approached the table. "Harry! Sorry I'm late, mate…" He walked over, Shook Harry's hand, then lifted the glass that had been filled for him. "You even poured me my first glass!"

Harry said, "Good to see you, Nev." Neville was wearing thick and durable robes. The kind of robes a person who works outdoors would wear. He was as thick and sturdy as the robes he wore. This was a large and strong man used to physical labour. Whatever happened to that shy, pudgy little boy he met on the train ten years ago?

Neville drank the content in one large gulp. "Ahhhhh. Not the smoothest, but I've had worse!" The smoke from drinking such a large gulp of Firewhisky projected from his mouth and nose with each word. He then proceeded to fill his glass back up. "What a day!"

Neville was about to sit down when he glanced around. "Someone's been busy." He walked over to the recently refinished bar top and ran his fingers across the wood. "Harry, this is gorgeous. Where did you find it?"

"It's the original wood. It just needed a little tender loving care." And an inch of grime to be removed. Leave it to Neville to appreciate the finer points. "The brass is new, the rest is vintage."

Neville then came back to the table, sitting casually with a groan. "This is gonna be one very nice place, Harry." He looked about and said, "The ceiling beams… the floor… Hell, I didn't even know there was brick under all that paneling."

"Thanks, mate. I'm going for something a little more 'old world' than the three broomsticks." He was impressed with the detail Neville had picked up on. "A little more… masculine, I guess."

Bill said, "Masculine would be dark wood and leather. This is something else. I don't know what I'd call it, but it's nice. Let's just go with 'Vintage'." Pushing the platter toward Neville, he added, "Sit down and have some of the best poutine you've ever had."

Neville piled up his plate. "I got to tell you, we are going to have a blast." He then threw back another nearly full glass. "The Brazilian rainforest has some of the most unique and… amazing fauna on the face of the Earth." His glass was now empty.

When sipping Firewhisky, smoke comes out of the drinker's mouth and nose. When the drinker does large shots, they get a lot more smoke. It's like shaking up a carbonated drink. Neville looked like a chimney with the way smoke was projecting out of his mouth and nose. The smell of Firewhisky was now stronger than wood shavings and varnish.

Harry joked, "Easy there, Nev. You might set off the smoke ward." Harry briefly considered using the bubblehead charm.

Neville smirked and refilled his glass.

Harry asked, "Now that the curse on the Defence position is gone, who do you think old McGonagall will hire?"

Bill answered, "She already recruited a retired teacher from Durmstrang. He knows his stuff."

"He's a real hard ass." Neville was halfway through his third glass. The smoke was thick as he spoke. "Minerva's already had to come down on him twice for coming on too strong. But you know what? He's not half as tough as ol' Mad-Eye."

Harry wondered, "The real one or—"

"Both! I honestly couldn't tell the difference between them." He threw back the remainder of his glass. "I'm glad Crouch got kissed." The smoke was even thicker now. "Real glad."

Harry knew why. Everyone did. Constant Vigilance… He'd send a note in the morning to Viktor for information on the defence professor. He'd also get Padma to run down a background check on Mr. Durmstrang. You can never be too careful.

Harry looked at Neville pouring more Firewhisky. "Neville, if I'd had half as much as you, I'd be a sloppy mess." Three glasses in fifteen minutes! Or was it four…

Neville laughed and slapped Harry on the back. "Hah! Magical heavyweight, alcohol lightweight." He refilled his glass. "I was just getting caught up to you two. I'll slow down now." Harry looked down into his own half-full glass. It was still his first.

Over the next hour, they laughed and talked about the good times, carefully avoiding the bad. Harry was surprised just how many good times he had had here. On his next big visit, he'll invite Hagrid and Filius… Pomona, too. Hell, everyone was welcome. He made a mental note to commission a chair big enough for Hagrid. Maybe he could even arrange for a small area just for Hogwarts staff.

Harry eventually bid his friends goodbye and Bill promised to reset the wards when he and Neville left. Bill looked fine, but Neville was showing his consumption. He'd easily had three times as much Firewhisky as Harry and Bill combined. The man knew how to throw back the booze. Harry left the bottle on the table and went home to tuck in Teddy.

He'd check up on his properties tomorrow while Teddy was seeing his therapist, Dr. Gaines. His godchild was still having nightmares after the events in Paris. Harry and Teddy had seen Dr. Gaines frequently over the years as they both dealt with their issues and losses. The violence his godson experienced in France had Teddy in weekly sessions since coming back to Britain. Dr. Gaines was excellent.

—CS—

Authors Notes:

Wrapping up loose ends. The school has their brooms, the curse on the DADA position is gone, Colin is now lined up for an interview, Harry's Muggle-born plans are coming together, and Neville can drink a whole lot more than most other people.

It has been noted by 'ZanyMuggle' that the opening notes of some early chapters listed 'Parcel Tongue' instead of 'Parseltongue'. I thought I would address this directly.

Two theories:
1. Many thousands of years ago, an ancient order of delivery people formed an elite magical society. They developed a secret language called 'parcel tongue'. Only the most powerful and focused members were taught this language. Harry learned it from an ancient spirit that lived in a UPS hub. There are inferior versions of the language spoken at USPS, DSLR, and FEDEX, but they are missing key arcane elements and lack the magical force to deliver packages consistently.

2. Spell check screwed me and I kept copying it over and over. Because I add notes after my Beta readers return the chapters, it slipped through the proofing process.

You choose the answer you like.