THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!!! HOORAY1!! It's been thrilling to write this, so I'm leaving the ending open for future expansion. My fingers hurt (not just from the typing, earlier I attempted to donate blood. Don't have enough iron in my body, so I got finger-pricked for nothing. It hurts a little when I hit the letter 's'.)

"What's going on, Savage?" Scrimegoer asked angrily, flanked on either side by some very toned wizards with low tolerance levels for stupidity.

Chessie took her arm off Bartender's shoulders and straightened up warily, causing glass to fall off her clothes and hair and make delicate noises on the ground that clashed with the mood.

"Minister," she said with as much Slytherin hauteur as she could conjure up on such short notice. It wasn't working. A strange inner relief and excessive adrenaline was making her giddy. "Care for a drink?"

She held up a piece of a broken bottle for him, and he stared at it like it was a slug. She grinned slightly maliciously. The point wasn't to look stupid- not that that was very hard, at this point, no one had slept well for nearly twenty four hours- but to point out how many people, injured and other, were still around. It worked. Scrimegoer's small eyes scanned the room with an Auror's ease, noting everything. He then chose to disregard it as beneath his attentions and returned to the Savages.

"What the bloody hell happened here, Bill? No two Aurors are telling the same story, and I want answers!"

"He almost sounds like a child," Kel commented softly to Ben, who hastily hid his smile with a dirty fist.

"No, we should be telling about the same story." Tonks said, frowning pleasantly. Both she and Bill Savage tried to explain all that had occurred in the past twenty four hours, which made for some strange storytelling. Tonks got to the part where Chessie had found Penny Savage, and Scrimegoer held up one of his hands.

"Were you bitten?" He asked Penny bluntly. She hesitated, then took a breath and looked him in the eyes.

"Yes, on my leg."

"Do you still have your badge?" He asked. It was more of a command.

"Oh, dear," Marjorie whispered softly, moving herself in front of Burt, who was barely keeping up with the turn of events. Penny reached into her only remaining unshredded pocket and pulled it out slowly.

"Give it to me," Scrimegoer said, and the room erupted into angry protests and shocked commentary. The few Aurors present- Kingsley Shacklebolt and a few others of his caliber- who had returned to the bar to see if anything else needed taken care of didn't stop them.

"Are you firing me?" Penny asked, surprised. Surely she'd been expecting that, Chessie thought to herself, avidly watching the conversation. But judging by the expression on Penny's face, she really hadn't. But then, no Savage for the past eighty years at least had been fired from the Ministry. It was a trait they boasted of at social gatherings.

"There is no place for a werewolf in my Aurors, Miss Savage. Now take this with some dignity and give me your badge."

Penny looked at her cherished and hard-earned gold badge sadly, like a puppy getting neutered, and began handing it to him slowly. Tonks reached over and slapped her arm down right before Scrimegoer could take it.

"If you fire her for being a werewolf, you'll have to fire me too for being a metamorphmagus." She told him hotly.

Scrimegoer rolled his eyes. "Now, there's no need for this-"

"And you'll have to promote someone else to Commander," Bill Savage said reasonably. "I've been debating retirement, these past few months."

"That's beginning to sound reasonable," Scrimegoer said angrily, turning to Kingsley.

"No," was all he said, and brandished his badge to turn in as his resignation notice as well. The minister's eyes narrowed behind his thin glasses.

"Are you all going to quit on me if she's fired?" he asked irritably. Various affirmations.

Watching the scene with half a mind, Chessie turned to Rose, gently wiping her face and brushing dirt and glass off her clothes to the best of her abilities. This wasn't her fight anymore.

"Then I suppose I have no choice, do I?" Scrimegoer said, irritated.

Bartender gasped. "Oh, he's going to fire all of them!"

"Miss Savage is not fired, then. For now. But only because I can't afford to lose my best Aurors over something so stupid, not until this bloody war's over."

Penny sighed in relief as her father put a supporting arm around her shoulders and Scrimegoer stalked off. Chessie had a recollection and stood up.

"Where's my flat?" She shouted after Scrimegoer, who merely paused in the doorway before muttering something and continuing out the door.

"I take it that's a 'no'?" Chessie guessed.

"Likely," Tonks said, putting her own badge away fervently and rubbing her eyes. "We'll worry about it later. I'm pretty much dead on my feet, and you're covered in glass. Rose needs medical attention, so I'll get-."

"No," Chessie said slowly, "Let me worry about her. Bartender? You're in charge. Tonks?"

"I know, back to my flat with the lot of you. I'll try to get Pomfrey over, or another Healer who takes their oath seriously." Tonks rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," Chessie said gratefully, and picked Rose up. She was a little heavier than she used to be. Either that or Chessie was weaker. Probably both. Bill Savage was going to get a Healer to look at Penny as well before taking her home. Tonks was taking care of the wolves. It was time to go home.

As they walked out the door and Chessie let her feet take over navigation, she pondered about nothing and everything, listing what she needed to do, what she wanted to do, what she wanted to eat, and more. She was out of lists very quickly; lack of a very expansive social or private life does that.

A concern haunting her was whether or not she'd changed. Obviously she had physically- she was much skinnier, malnourished, and self-inflicted haircuts had left her with a strange frizz of multilength hair. The remnants of her bad highlights were long gone, leaving only the blackish-brown of her natural hair color.

Mentally, though, she knew she'd changed quite a bit. Six months ago she'd been stuck in a dreary repetitive safe life that was going nowhere, trying to deny anything that wasn't comfortable to hear. Six months ago Rose's parents loved her. But recently especially, she'd gotten comments from growing friends like Bartender and Marjorie (Friends! Finally!) about how confident and decisive and leaderly she'd become, or all three. Chessie wondered if that was a good thing as she shifted Rose on her hip.

The Leaky Cauldron slowly crept closer as Chessie's sore feet led her and Rose down the road. There was an alley that went around and behind the pub, for those who didn't want to socialize, or in Chessie and Rose's case so they wouldn't scare anyone. Tonks had slipped Chessie her wand earlier, right after Greyback was drugged and dragged off, and she tapped the bricks in the right order after a few lazy tries, and slunk through Diagon Alley's back alleys towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which even closed would still have somebody in it.

Home. She didn't really care very much anymore if she got her flat or not. She actually liked her stay at the twins' place, cramped as it got sometimes, which was something else she'd never have known she loved until it was thrust upon her.

The steps to the door were muddy, but Chessie's feet were dirty, sore, and cold anyway so she didn't mind stepping on them heavily. She shifted Rose again to her less tired hip, and rang the doorbell.

There were footsteps on floorboards inside- the one by the bathroom squeaked when you stepped on it crooked- and George opened the door quickly, staring in shock at Chessie, who broke into a sloppy grin and handed him Rose.

"I'm home," she said peacefully, and went inside.

The End