~*T*~.

"Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall greeted them at the end of the feast, as the last of the pies vanished, "The headmaster would like to speak to you before bed."

Taylor looked to Lisa, over her to Amy. Both gave tiny nods back.

"That's fine," Taylor waved to the opposite side of the table, "He's welcome to join us."

McGonagall's lips twitched, then tightened into a flat line, but her eyes still betrayed her amusement, "I'll let him know."

The old wizard folded himself onto the bench across the Gryffindor table, "How have you liked school so far, Miss Potter?"

Another glance between the girls, another pair of nods, "Call me Taylor, Headmaster."

He nodded, stroked his beard, "Call me Albus, then."

"School has been fun, but I've noticed some issues, Albus."

"Oh?"

"What is your school trying to teach? Do you want your students to leave with an understanding of proper behavior, knowing that self-control and working together are how humans have come to be the dominant species on the planet? Or do you want them to be feral animals, who know that might makes right, and working together is for losers and Hufflepuffs?"

"And you think that the second is what I'm fostering," Albus slumped a little, stroking his beard, "Looking over my time as headmaster, you may be right."

"It's not all your fault," Lisa said, watching Albus carefully, "There was a certain artifact left here early in your term, by a certain applicant for the position of Dark Arts instructor. It bled anger, shame, fear, despair, as well as anchoring a certain curse."

"This artifact has been dealt with?"

"Yes, it has, released, its fear, its hold on the physical world."

"There is a man," Amy cut in, "From Brazil, named Paulo Freire. I would start with The Pedagogy of the Oppressed." A thin paperback appeared next to her plate, "Thank you."

"That is an interesting title," Albus said.

Amy picked it up, and passed it over respectfully, held with both hands. Albus accepted it the same way.

"Yes, you, and your teachers, should read that," Taylor nodded, "And you should decide if you want us to police ourselves, or if you want the teachers to police us, but the current method, of no corrective action, will never work."

"And Mister Weasley?"

"Will be more circumspect in the future, and think a little more before speaking," Lisa said.

"I could have been gentler towards him," Taylor said, "But he didn't listen when I just used my words. He didn't listen very well when I used magic, either."

"I noticed that. Maybe being held against the wall by the throat distracted him?" Albus asked.

"Probably. But he was paying attention when Lisa talked to him, and listened to her."

"Yes, he did. I'll talk to the teachers and prefects, and see if we can be more proactive about the values of politeness."

"That would be appreciated, Albus."

~*i*~

"Freddie Mercury is still alive," Taylor said, looking up suddenly.

"He died in November, 1991," Lisa said, then sat up, throwing her feet over the edge of the bed, "Today's November 1st."

"What day in November?" Amy asked.

"Don't remember, but it wasn't quick," Lisa said, "You can cure AIDS, right?"

"Probably. Someone else wiped it out years before I triggered."

"Where's he living?"

"Kensington," Lisa answered, "Do we know a wide area search?"

"I don't," Amy said.

Taylor shook her head, wiggling into a pair of jeans, "Not yet."

"We'll have to just ask around, I guess."

~ *i*~

"We're looking for Freddie Mercury's house," Taylor said, brandishing the copy of Flash Gordon.

"He's almost certainly not going to sign that," the barmaid says, smiling, "But it's 1 Logan Place, the sign says 'Garden Lodge.'"

"A picture of us at his garden gate would be enough," Lisa said, indicating the camera, "We've just put this off for too long."

"Vacation over?" the girl asked.

"Something like that," Amy agreed. "Thank you!" she gushed, and leaned forward to give the barmaid a hug.

"Off with you dearies, it's not going to get any lighter," they were ushered out with a little laugh.

~*i*~

"Brother o' mine," Gred said, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"We need to talk with you," Feorge put his hand on Ron's other shoulder.

The brothers walked from the room, then into a shallow alcove, and then into a dark tunnel hung with cobwebs. Ron shrank in his brothers' arms, "Spiders," he said.

The spiders came out, formed a ring around the brothers, all glittering eyes and pedipalps, but none stayed over their heads.

Ron whimpered, crossed his arms over his tummy, hunched his shoulders.

"The spiders are just watching," Feorge said.

"You were picking on someone trying to help you?"

"Yes," Ron said in a small voice.

"Was that a good idea?"

"No."

"Why did you do it?"

"Luna already had this talk with me," Ron said, "Because I felt ashamed that I was weak because I couldn't do the levitation charm, so I pushed away, trying to shame Granger to distract myself from my own shame."

"Oh?"

"I," he paused, "I need to recognize my shame before it drives me to do dumb things. I," he paused, "Luna said I am not a bad kid, but I do bad things. I procrastinate, I choose easy paths, I lash out at others to try and feel better. I am no weaker than any other kid, and have nothing to be ashamed of, I just need to recognize how shame feels, and work around it, instead of letting it work me."

"She said that."

"Yep. Makes too bloody much sense, and Potter said when a goddess offers help, accept it with gratitude or turn it down politely, so I guess I'm grateful," he paused, "I think I said thanks."

"Ickle firsty Luna's a goddess?"

"Potter said Amy, which I think is Granger's goddess name, but Potter and Luna are too, I think."

"Why do you think that?"

"You've seen them, right?" Ron looked up at his brothers, who nod, confused, "Potter said Amy was a derated goddess, which I think means reduced enough to pass as a first year."

George and Fred exchanged a look over Ron's head.

"Hey, how do you address a goddess pretending to be a firsty?"

"I think it would be best to use her name, if she's pretending."

"Yeah, probably," Ron nodded, "Or I could ask."

~*T*~