Yes, I know my updates are slowing down. I'm sorry, but real life keeps intervening. It sucks, doesn't it? Anyway, thanks again to my invaluable beta Dragyn for all his hard work. Read and review, if you like. Or even if you don't! Oh, and does anyone really think I own HP?

June 1, 1998
Somewhere outside Sydney, Australia

The group landed with a thud in a park. The landing spot was surrounded by bushes which protected them from casual onlookers, but Stan Jeffries was right there and helped everyone to their feet.

"Welcome to Kookaburra, the fastest growing Muggle suburb of Sydney. Your parents," he said to Hermione, "live in a modest two-bedroom house a few blocks from this park. If you will all follow me, please."

They walked for about ten minutes before they came upon a house that looked exceedingly ordinary. The neighborhood reminded Harry of Little Whinging. Kookaburra had the same feeling of dullness that he remembered rather less than fondly.

Stan opened the door and let everyone in. Hermione was clearly surprised, and Stan answered the unspoken question.

"I managed to put some Sleeping Draught in their food," he explained. "Once they were both asleep, I let myself in and sent for Michael."

Hermione's parents were sitting on the couch in front of the television, as if they had fallen asleep while watching a particularly boring film. The Obliviator sat himself on the coffee table and began casting the spells needed to restore the hidden memories. There was a rhythmic quality to it, like he was a conductor leading an orchestra.

Eventually, Hermione's parents woke up with a start. They looked right at the Obliviator, then at Hermione and Ron on one side, then Harry and Ginny on the other.

"Hermione!" her mother almost shouted in surprise. "But, but, but... does this mean..."

"You did it, didn't you? That Voldemort fellow, he's gone?" her father asked.

Hermione nodded, and her mother practically jumped from the couch and hugged her. Mr. Granger turned to Harry, and gave him an apprising look.

"You're the Harry Potter Hermione's told us about, I gather?"

Harry nodded.

"You don't look like a hero, but then again most heroes don't. At least, that's what I learned back in the Navy." He gave Harry a nod of satisfaction, and turned his attention back to his wife and daughter.

Hermione and her parents spent most of the next few days going over the events of the past year - almost always with Ron at her side, and frequently joined by Harry and Ginny. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger did not get the full version of events that the Weasleys had, they got enough to understand the dangers their daughter had faced had been even worse than they could have imagined. They had also been told of Ron and Hermione's relationship, and Mrs. Granger had positively glowed when she found out.

The most important topic now, however, was the future. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were torn between returning home to Britain or staying in Australia. Eventually, they decided to return to Britain. This meant that they had to settle all their affairs in Australia on short notice, much like when they had to leave England. Fortunately, the Australian Ministry of Magic was able to help and smooth over things with the Muggle government, which had greatly simplified things.

When they weren't helping the Grangers prepare to return home, the quartet spent their time enjoying one of Sydney's natural attractions: the beaches. Ron and Ginny both had to be a little careful around the sun, but fortunately their Auror escorts taught them a charm that served as a replacement for sunblock.

Of course, Harry could not help but admire Ginny, especially since both she and Hermione had bought rather flattering swimsuits to fit in with everyone on the beach. This did, however, cause both to get a fair share of attention from the other people enjoying the sun and surf. For Hermione, this was something of an oddity as, except for the Yule Ball she had never gotten second glances for her looks. This was also something that annoyed both Harry and Ron who were feeling even more territorial about their girlfriends than usual.

A few days later, everyone was ready to head back home. The hotel limousine took them all back to an airport hangar, where the same jet that had taken them to Australia was waiting for them. Not only the plane that was the same; so was the aircrew

"Thought we'd see you lot again," Bob Clarkson said. "And these would be..."

"Wendell and Monica Granger," Hermione said. "My parents."

"Ah. Well then, let me show you around."

Bob led the Grangers up to the airplane, while Ron and Ginny followed with the luggage. Harry turned to the two Aurors who had been with them all week.

"Thanks. For everything."

"Anytime, mate," James said, "so long as Arnie and I can have some Firewhiskey with you anytime we're in London. Take care, Harry."

Harry nodded and waved back as he entered the plane. Inside, he found the Grangers admiring the inside of the plane. They apparently found it just as remarkable as the four of them had back in London.

"Hermione, how did you arrange all this? This can't be - oh," Mrs. Granger said. "It's yours, then, Harry?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking, I guess," Harry said, in the same uncomfortable tone he used whenever money was discussed.

Fortunately for Harry, the pilots chose that moment to call for everyone to take their seats and prepare for takeoff. Hermione's distaste of brooms had apparently been inherited from her mother, who was uncomfortable with any sort of flight. She soon went to catch some sleep. Meanwhile, her husband showed the same kind of curiosity towards the Wizarding World that Mr. Weasley showed towards the Muggle world. As a dentist, he found it particularly interesting that wizarding sweets did not cause tooth decay.

Harry also learned that Mr. Granger had been the unofficial chess champion of the ships he had served on in his days with the Royal Navy. This inevitably led to another spirited series of chess games over the Arctic with Ron. The two were evenly matched, and the score was tied when the plane began its descent towards London. The two called the match a draw, and they both settled into their seats to prepare for landing.

On the ground they found Mr. Weasley waiting for them, along with two Ministry cars and some Hit Wizards who would escort the Grangers back home.

"Why don't you come visit me instead, Ron," Hermione said. "It's always me heading off to the Burrow. How about... a change of scenery?"

"Alright, 'Mione. I'll send Pig when I'm going to come over, alright? And I'll take Crookshanks with me - once he stops chasing all the gnomes," Ron said with a grin.

Hermione left with her parents, and Harry joined the rest of the Weasleys in the other Ministry car. "You chose a busy time to leave," he said, handing everyone a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Harry read quickly. Kingsley had been confirmed as Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot, and they had also voted to-

"They didn't!" Ron said.

"Oh yes, yes they did," Mr. Weasley said. "You, Harry, and Hermione will all receive Orders of Merlin. First Class, too. What's left of the Order, the Hogwarts faculty, and Dumbledore's Army will get one, too. Second Class. Everyone else who was at Hogwarts for the battle will get a third class award."

Harry was speechless. His jaw dropped of its own accord, and he was just about to snap it shut when Mr. Weasley spoke again.

"Oh, one more thing. Apparently, the joke shop was far more successful and profitable than any of us realized," he said. "We also didn't know that Fred and George set it up so we all owned part of it. They were planning to let us know after Bill's wedding - it would have been their wedding present, I think - but, well..." he paused. He didn't have to remind anyone of what had happened next.

"He's mental," Ron said. "What did Mum say?"

"Well," Mr. Weasley replied, "your mother and George had... a rather frank discussion."

While all this was going on, Harry was doing his best to hide the feeling of satisfaction in him right now. Only he, George, and Hestia knew the whole truth: that the part that now belonged to the Weasleys was once Harry's, plus a small part of Fred's share.

The gold that came with it should fill up the family vault at Gringotts quite nicely. Considering all the Weasleys have done for me the past seven years, it was the least I could do, Harry thought.

Sunday lunch at the Burrow was as pleasant as ever. Mrs. Weasley was slightly disappointed that Hermione had not come back with Harry and Ron, but she understood perfectly. "Family's family," she had said.

After lunch, Ron rushed off to his bedroom to send an owl to Hermione. Harry and Ginny were watching over Teddy Lupin, who had decided to wear his hair black with plenty of red streaks today.

"Where's Ron?" George asked.

Harry pointed towards the stairs.

"Oh, good," George replied. "Listen, if I ask him to join me in the joke shop, would he say yes?"

"Of course he would," Harry said. "Are you mental? Did all of your brains leak out of that hole in your head, too?"

George grinned. "Never hurts to get a second opinion, does it? Although if Ron turns it down he won't just be mental, he'll be a poorer sort of mental."

"What were you going to offer him?" asked Ginny.

"Well, I need someone to actually figure out how to make all our crazy ideas work," George replied. "Fred was always good at that. Ron, well, he's no prankster, much to our eternal regret, but he should be smart enough for the job. I mean, how many O.W.Ls did he get-"

"Seven," Harry said.

"Exactly. I figure he can head up the back room," George said. "Developing new products, keeping inventory, that sort of thing. He'll have a healthy bit of the shop," he added, "so he'll be rolling in Galleons if he doesn't screw it up."

"Go and ask Ron," Harry said, "before he finishes his letter to Hermione. If you ask after Pig leaves, Ron will send Hermes out to Hermione with the news."

"Good point," George replied. With that, he ran up the staircase towards the attic.

"So," Ginny asked, "what do you have planned for the next few weeks, Harry?"

Harry wasn't quite sure how to answer. The idea of a summer where he could enjoy himself was a novel one. Voldemort and the Dursleys had always managed to make his summers rather miserable. The weeks at the Burrow right after the battle had been nothing short of fantastic, and Harry realized he had a few more weeks of the same to enjoy.

"I don't know, Ginny," he replied. "Why don't you show me how to have a really good summer?"

She could not suppress the grin that crept up on her face. She leaned in close to Harry and whispered in his ear. Harry instantly turned red at Ginny's suggestion. He was thankful that no one was looking in his direction at that exact moment.

The next few weeks were some of the best Harry had ever had. He spent as much time as he could with Ginny, and Harry didn't care what it was they were doing. Sometimes it was just lying around in some bushes, sometimes it was flying in the airspace over the Burrow, sometimes it was helping Ron and George out with the joke shop.

Ron had, of course, accepted George's offer right away. As a result, he was now spending a fair amount of time at the joke shop, learning what he needed to learn to take Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to the next level. He was also using his bedroom as an experimental lab, much like the twins had before him. More than a few times, Harry and Ginny had been surprised by loud bangs coming out of the attic bedroom which were inevitably followed by yells from Mrs. Weasley telling her youngest son off.

Sunday lunch was now almost always held in the garden because there were now four regular guests: Andromeda brought Teddy Lupin over every weekend, and now Hermione's parents had joined in as well. Everyone soon learned that Mr. Weasley and Mr. Granger should never be left alone in a room, as with each one's interest in the others world they were quite capable of talking for hours on end, to the mutual exasperation of their wives.

In mid-June, Harry decided that the time was right for him to visit the house his parents had left him. Hestia sent an owl and a Portkey to the Burrow, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all went with him. The letter that the owl brought also answered one question Harry had asked: how had the house survived for almost two decades without once being attacked?

The answer had been a surprise to everyone - except Hermione (as always) and Mrs. Weasley.

"Many old Wizarding families," Mrs. Weasley had explained, "placed strong protective wards on their family homes. I'm sure you all remember all the spells we had at Grimmauld Place, and, because it was in London, there were some things that couldn't be done there. Also, many of the houses were built on sites that are magically powerful, like Hogwarts. I'm not surprised at all, to be honest."

Eventually, they all took the Portkey and landed ungracefully onto a sleepy country lane. Ron was particularly unhappy. The fact that both Hermione and Ginny landed on him probably had something to do with it.

The four of them walked along the road towards an ornate iron gate that Harry thought looked a little rusty. As they got closer, however, Harry felt a warmth come over him, and everyone gasped as the gates took on a brand-new appearance and opened of their own accord. Harry turned to the others, who were all speechless.

"I think the house recognizes you, Harry," Ginny said after a while.

They walked through the gate and found what looked like a golf cart, except this one didn't have a steering wheel or any other means of telling it where to go. Harry turned to everyone else, asking with his eyes now what? They all shrugged, and with no other alternatives they got on the cart.

At first, nothing happened, but after a moment, the cart began to move up the road about as fast as the thestral-pulled carriages at Hogwarts did. Harry looked around at the grounds. It wasn't too different from the land around the Burrow, and from what Harry could tell, they could all have flown here - if they had known where it was.

The cart crested a hill and eventually the house came into view. It was a rather sprawling mansion, a little larger than both Grimmauld Place and the Burrow put together. Unlike either, however, Potter House was not a particularly tall structure, rising only three floors above the ground.

The cart stopped right in front of the modest entrance, which was not as grand as one would expect from the family home of one of Wizarding Britain's richest families. As Harry led the group up the steps, the entrance to the house opened of its own accord like the gate had before.

Stepping inside his house, Harry was amazed by what he found. From his limited experience with upper-class magical residences, he half expected a house that flaunted the wealth of its residents. Malfoy Manor had been like that and, even in its dilapidated state, anyone could see that at its height the same had been true of Grimmauld Place. Harry earnestly hoped that his new house was not built along the same lines.

Fortunately, his wishes had been granted. They entered a large room that served as both entrance hall and sitting room. There were plenty of comfortable chairs and tables for people to sit and talk. Harry was reminded of the Gryffindor common room. There was an air of understated elegance throughout - one that clearly said that yes, the owners of this house were rich, but no, they felt no need to flaunt it.

Off to one side of the sitting room, there was a painting that depicted the Tale of the Three Brothers. Harry looked at it curiously. Did his father know that his Invisibility Cloak was a Deathly Hallow? The painting made Harry think that the answer was yes. If so, he hadn't told either Sirius or Lupin, but then again Dumbledore had not waved around the Elder Wand either. Maybe it's a family secret, Harry thought.

Below the painting was a worn, dusty book bound in leather. Harry didn't know why, but he knew exactly what he had to do. He tapped the cover of the book with his wand.

The book instantly glowed and flew into the air. It spun in the air for a minute before falling back onto the table, looking as if it had just been sold by Flourish and Blotts. Harry looked at the cover a little more closely. Embossed onto either side of a shield that bore what Harry supposed was the Potter family crest was...a stag and a horse.

"Ginny," he said quietly, "isn't your Patronus a horse?" Ginny nodded.

Harry tried to process this latest bit of information. Apparently, the house not only recognized him, the only living Potter, but his girlfriend, Ginny, as well. He opened the book and saw what was inside: it was a list of all the wards that protected Potter House, along with the incantations needed to modify them. It was almost like a manual for the house, Harry thought. He soon had modified the wards to allow not only himself, but the Weasleys as well, to Apparate and fly in and out of the grounds.

The quartet spent what seemed like hours exploring the interior of the house. In the sitting room, opposite the entrance, was a floor-to-ceiling glass wall and a door that led out to an outdoor deck. The deck, in turn, had a glorious view of the sea and a swimming pool right beside it.

The five bedrooms all had large four-posters that were even more luxurious than their beds in Gryffindor Tower. Hermione gasped at the size of the library, which was even larger than it had seemed from the outside. The kitchen was large enough that Mrs. Weasley could probably feed the entire Weasley clan from the kitchen. There was even a room specifically for a house elf located beside the kitchen. Harry couldn't help but notice that it was still larger than his old bedroom at Privet Drive.

They spent what seemed like hours exploring the inside of the house. It was scrupulously clean, as if a particularly industrious house-elf had been keeping it clean for the past eighteen years. If Harry wanted to move in, he could do so right away.

Eventually, Harry found something he was looking for in the master bedroom suite. There was a small bookshelf that was full of photo albums. He opened one, and the first photograph was of an eleven-year-old Lily Evans, absolutely beaming in her Hogwarts robes. There was another photo of Lily, standing in the Gryffindor common room. There were others, and Harry decided that either her mother or one of her friends had, like Colin Creevy, loved photography.

There was one for every year Lily had been at Hogwarts, and Harry and Ginny looked through each and every one. Finally, there was only one left - the one from her seventh year. For the first time, the four Marauders were in many of the photos, and Lily did not seem want to throttle James whenever she laid eyes on him. The last photograph in the album was Lily and James, hand in hand, as they left the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

Harry closed the book with a feeling of satisfaction. Ever since Voldemort had killed his parents, he had been looking for a home of his own where he could love and be loved. He had felt love and loved both at Hogwarts and at the Burrow, but neither had really been his. Potter House, however, was different. If someone asked him why it was different, he would not have been able to answer. He felt, no, he knew, this was where he was supposed to be. And he knew who else was supposed to be here with him too.

He pulled Ginny into his arms and placed his lips on hers. She was surprised for only the briefest of moments, but soon her hands found his disorderly black hair while his found her long locks of red hair. When he had to let go to take in a breath of air, he looked right into her vibrant brown eyes.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"I love you too, Harry James Potter."

Outside Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay
Kings Bay, Georgia, United States of America

The man in the shadows threw the Wizarding newspaper at his feet. It contained nothing that he already new. Tom Riddle, the arrogant fool who had decided to rechristen himself Lord Voldemort, was dead and his followers were in disarray. This was no surprise, he thought. For all his brilliance and power, Riddle had been arrogant. He had ignored what he thought was unimportant, and tended to think that he knew all that was worth knowing. There was no more fatal mistake. You never knew everything, the man thought, and when you start thinking that, well... he was alive, where Riddle was most clearly not.

The man sighed, Why is it that so many of our kind are so foolish?Riddle was merely the most recent example. Powerful as he was, he was really nothing more than a glorified thug. Grindelwald had at least the sense to use the Muggle leader of Germany for his own purposes, but he unfortunately chose someone who was completely unhinged.

He was determined to succeed where Riddle had failed. Where Grindelwald had failed. Where a long line of powerful witches and wizards had all tried, but ultimately failed. They had all been blinded by their hatred of Muggles to realize one thing: Muggles did come up with good ideas, and with surprising frequency as well. If overthrowing the blasted Statute of Secrecy meant using Muggle weapons, well, it was nothing less than irony, wasn't it?

But first, he had to learn. He knew little of the Muggle world and realized that before acting he needed information. A year ago, he had been utterly ignorant of what was in this small town, but today he knew.

Stationed out of this town were nine submarines - half of America's ballistic missile submarine fleet. Each carried enough firepower to annihilate any country in the world several times over. There was nothing like it in the Wizarding world. Simply put, wizards had never wanted to kill each other in the numbers Muggles had over the centuries. There simply weren't enough wizards to go around.

Walking quickly through the town, he found his destination. It was a bar known to be popular with the sailors from the nearby submarine base. He had been here before, of course, looking for a good target. He had found one, and tonight he would carry out his plan.

Later that night, a Navy lieutenant found the need to urinate overwhelming, and decided that after relieving his need he would head home. No need to start a hundred days at sea hung over, after all. He had barely started to position himself in front of the urinal when he heard something from the other side of the room.

"Imperio."