Author's Notes: It's been a while with this story, and a bit deliberately at that. I put this story aside for a while, because I was pushing events too quickly. So, with this chapter, we have time skip of a couple weeks. You may see more of this story soon, now that I have my time line going forward straight. Do not, however, expect a Neville Reads the Prophet for a while, as that story requires a lot of background work to go forward.

I'd like to thank Jim Trig for his usual fine tooth comb beta work.

Chapter Fourteen: Shipoopi

Harry Potter was beginning to get into a good summer routine. Everything seemed to have calmed down for a while. Voldemort appeared to be licking his wounds after opening the summer with very high profile attacks. Dudley was too busy with his girl to bother him much. His aunt had taken up knitting, as she had started to show her pregnancy a bit, so there wasn't much demanding his attention at number four, at least since he finished building the garden.

Harry would get up about five, take a run with Dudley if Dudley hadn't had a date with Porta the night before, cook a surprisingly healthy for the Dursleys' breakfast, and then head off to the Wizengamont. He would usually arrive about an hour or two, depending on the day of the week, before the session would begin, which allowed him to chat with his friends and those helping out in his office before he hit the floor.

Beyond the reception area, there was a large table that everyone gathered around as they came in. Sometimes he'd find his friends doing homework, or maybe organizing some documents that he'd need later. More often though, they'd just be chatting with each other. At the moment, there were only boys in, not counting Ginny, who had already taken up her position at reception, which was a bit unusual. Hermione was usually in before everyone.

"I still say that Susan is the best kisser," Ron said, leaning forward on the table. "I mean, that kiss she gave me at the Cannons game ..." It appeared that Ron was taking advantage of Wizengamot Cafeteria Services again, judging by the plate of mini-tarts in front of him.

"Oh, that was just adrenaline following your saving her," Neville replied, sitting back in his chair "It doesn't count unless you can get another kiss from her, and I don't think you have."

"I would have, but Madame Bones opened the door before I could!" Ron rejoined.

Neville smirked. "Whereas with Hannah, I have those kisses, and she can make my toes curl – and does so, night and day. Not just after saving her, which I admit you did, deserving that kiss, but only that kiss"

"It is not because I rescued her," Ron said, firmly, as Harry found his usual seat beside Ron, just like in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. "You don't always get kisses from a girl you rescue. Ginny didn't kiss Harry."

"So I was too embarrassed to do anything," Ginny said, turning around to face the boys. "Now that I think about it, since I'm between boyfriends, maybe I should give Harry his reward. He did save me from possession and a basilisk, after all"

Harry suddenly found himself standing, as the red head practically stalked over to him. Only for the briefest of moments could he keep the image of Ron's little sister, crying, having woken up from possession, in his mind. This wasn't that girl. This was a girl on the edge of womanhood, whose figure had figured, along with some others, in dreams that he was embarrassed to admit to.

This was a girl that long ago, he had actually accidentally seen naked. He knew that she didn't just have the freckles that he could now see gracing the bridge of her nose. She wasn't dressed in school robes, but a summer weight dress that hugged her figure, whose hem danced around her knees as she approached him. Around her neck was a simple black cord necklace, holding an Egyptian symbol on it.

Somehow she'd reached him, and he could feel her warmth against his body, as she reached up to bring their lips together. The kiss wasn't chaste. It was not brief, just barely touching. No, Ginny opened her mouth and Harry responded in kind. His hands found themselves pushing her body closer to him, as he explored the contours of her back. Her hands moved from where they first played with his messy hair, down his back, and resting on his bottom, keeping him from retreating to hide his reaction to the kiss from her.

Finally she released him, but not before pressing herself tightly up against him one last time. His hands seemed to float down slowly to his sides, as she took a step backwards, the smile of her face seeming to promise mischief. A single word escaped Harry's lips. "Wow."

"Okay, Harry has obviously had the best kiss in Gryffindor," Neville said. "Ginny's learnt something since the Yule Ball."

"I don't give a kiss on the very first date," Ginny said. "Plus, you kept stepping on my feet."

"Is she done yet?" Ron asked. Harry looked over to discover that his best friend had his eyes covered with his left hand.

"Yes, Ron, I'm done kissing Harry," Ginny said in an exasperated tone. He removed his hand. "For now."

Ron groaned, as Ginny returned to her desk so she could check in one of the Hufflepuff pages.

"Feel lucky, Harry," Neville said. "The rest of us mere mortals have to wait until the third date to get a kiss from a girl like Ginny."

"That's a reward kiss," Ginny shot back, over her shoulder. "If he wants more, third date."

"I told you that reward kisses didn't count, Ron," Neville replied. "Now, Gran is off at Hogwarts, so I get to sit in substitution today. I think the Baron Amesbury is presiding this afternoon."

Harry smiled widely. He remembered what Neville had started the first time he'd presided over the Wizengamot. "So, Neville, who gets to go first?"

"He'll expect me, and maybe you, " Neville began, "but Malcolm Baddock is sitting in substitution for Sterling today."

"Oh, he'll never suspect that Slytherin to start it," Harry replied. "How is his mother doing? She didn't look good when she was sworn in."

"I understand she's getting better," Neville said. "They probably rushed her swearing in a bit. You've seen the Prophet on all they found in Dolores Umbridge's office?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I can't believe that Fudge was planning on putting her in to teach Defense at Hogwarts."

Albus Dumbledore abandoned the Wizengamot for this week in mid-July. He'd appointed a few younger members to preside while most of the Wizengamot was in committee, just like he had like most afternoons. The reason was just about the same. He'd spent most of Thursday afternoon preparing for today's meeting with the Hogwarts Governors. He had high hopes for today's meeting; with the majority being new members, the Headmaster felt that the entrenched positions that had prevented many improvements to the school would be a thing of the past. There would be new positions that would probably annoy him just as much, but for the moment he was at trying to be optimistic that the school's issues might just be resolved before the term started.

Dealing with the Governors was different than dealing with the Wizengamot. Dumbledore would only have to preside until a replacement for the chair was elected, as Dedalus Diggle had died of apparently natural causes. The rest of the late members of the board had gone less peacefully. Dumbledore regretted that they had gone so violently, though as traitors against the Crown, their deaths had been unavoidable. Once the Queen had made her judgement about the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, there was nothing that Dumbledore could, or indeed would say otherwise.

Many would suggest that he would be lenient with them, to give them another chance. There was a place for that, the Chief Warlock believed. One only had to look as far as Severus Snape, or more recently Draco Malfoy; no, Draco Amesbury. He had to get into the habit of calling the young Baron by the right name. He admitted to himself that he'd always had an issue with that. Sometimes the names just would stick in his mind. But he had to work on it, just like he had to remind himself that leniency had its place, but also had its limits. Watching the Queen's death warrants carried out reminded him of that.

There were not many people who had the necessary gravitas to remind him of that. The Queen was one of them, but she was not the only one. Through the main entrance to the school strode another of them. She was wearing an oversize capulet with an upturned brim, adorned with a side spray of feathers. Both the hat and her dress were a warm yellow, of a shade that had been considered for the Hufflepuff house ties as recently as 1990.

"Sir Albus, I do hope that I'm not the last to arrive," the lady's smile seemed to spread from cheek to cheek, and Dumbledore was sure that even if it hadn't been true, he would have still answered the same.

"I've yet to welcome but barely a half of the board, your Majesty," Dumbledore replied, as they began to walk into the depths of the school. "Dowager Longbottom has arrived, though. I believe she is working up an argument for more staff, one that I doubt I shall disagree with."

"Yes, Anne told me about the Education Committee hearing with Professor Snape, and her own discussion with you after the hearing. Tell me, Sir Albus, do you really think it wise to continue with that man in his current responsibilities? My granddaughter was most upset with what was presented of his behavior," the Queen Mother said.

"Severus Snape may be the only one who can keep the current crop of Slytherins under control," Dumbledore said. "I'd like to give him more time to do that, and teach the upper years, where most acknowledge he does a brilliant job. Since the hearing, I have been searching for an Assistant Professor of Potions, among others, and I have a couple good applicants."

"Hmmph," the Queen Mother responded, as they began to ascend the stairs. "We shall see. Are either of these applicants experienced at teaching?"

"Regrettably, not," Dumbledore said. "Both Professor Snape and his predecessor, Professor Slughorn, provided me with several good leads, but I was only able to get two applicants. It is, however, better than the applicants I have for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"How bad are the applicants for that post this year?" the Queen Mother said, pausing on a landing to let the next flight of stairs complete its movement.

"I'm considering trying to convince Sirius Black to become a Professor," Dumbledore said. "Even being out of date due to twelve years in Azkaban makes him better than those who actually submitted an application. I'd pull out Remus Lupin again, if I felt that the board would let a werewolf knowingly serve in the post."

"Propose it," the Queen Mother said, as they resumed the journey. "I shall inform the board that my daughter will not abide by discrimination against his illness."

With hearing those words, Albus Dumbledore felt a renewed optimism flow into his bones. Suddenly items he had wished for since he had taken over from Dippet seemed to be in reach again. Hogwarts might just become the best wizarding school in the world again, if the Queen Mother proved to be a good sampling of the board's opinions. He could hope that the seven new members would be every bit as good as the Queen Mother seemed to be in her second year on the board.

Sir Malcolm Baddock had only recently took up the sword. The soon to be Second-Year Slytherin was fortunate to possess a magical sword which aided him in its use. He was less fortunate to be up against Draco Malfoy under the instruction of Master Breckinridge, who taught the Queen's own guards how to use their mostly ceremonial swords in an emergency.

"Keep it smooth, Sir Malcolm," Breckinridge said from his perch next to the piste. "Jerking leaves openings.

"Yes Master Breckinridge," Malcolm said, trying to stop jerking his sword around in a vain effort to stop Malfoy, no, it was Amesbury now, from getting through his guard. It did not help that Parkinson was watching. Amesbury was always harder on him when Parkinson was watching. He didn't like to lose in front of the girl who was having his child. Of course it could be because of the run of speeches that Malcolm had started when Amesbury was presiding over the Wizengamot that afternoon.

"Break" Breckinridge ordered. "Good job, both of you."

"Thank you Master Breckinridge," Malcolm and Draco said, almost in unison.

"I shall not be expecting either of you, tomorrow," Breckinridge said. "I think that Dame Pansy would be quite put out if I did so. Nor will I expect the Baron for the next week, interrupting a honeymoon is not good for one's health. As for you, Sir Malcolm, I shall be personally instructing you. Sheave your sword for now, though."

"Yes, Master Breckinridge," Malcolm said, putting his sword in its scabbard. Once his hand left the hilt, it suddenly took on a heavier weight. It was a lot easier to carry it by the hilt. He was looking into spells to solve that problem once he got back to Hogwarts.

As soon as the swordsmaster left the chamber, Malcolm didn't so much see as hear Amesbury collapse on a nearby chair. "I think I'm going to need a good night's rest to recover from this, in time for our wedding, Pansy," Draco said.

"Who did you get to perform the ceremony," Malcolm asked, curious, having caught the discussion of who to ask previously.

"The Queen stepped in," Pansy said. "The Most Reverend George Carey, the Archbishop of Canterbury will perform the service. We had to move it to his church, though."

"You realize his church is Canterbury Cathedral, one of the oldest and most famous churches in England?" Malcolm began. "A church that has been the subject of pilgrimages and stories since the twelfth century?"

"I've read the Canterbury Tales, Malcolm," Pansy said. "The unabridged complete tales, not the incomplete ones that the muggles have. I think it's a very nice church."

"Cathedral, cathedral," Malcolm corrected. "There is a difference, and you got the head of the whole Church of England to do it."

"Malcolm, at this point, I just want to get married," Pansy replied. "I don't care where it is. Unfortunately Grandfather wants a large guest list, consisting of most of the Wizengamot. So that's where we're having it. Isn't he on the guest list?" she said, looking over at Draco.

"Under heir to Sterling Wizengamot seat," Draco replied. "How is your mother?"

"She's still a little stiff, but we're more worried about Edmee," Malcolm said. "She's not recovering well, with the curse, the blood loss, and the broken ribs. Though when you visited her, Dame Pansy, she seemed to be a little better afterwards."

"I'll try to stop by again tonight, and again after the honeymoon," Pansy promised. "Now Draco, I believe that I promised a bath..."