A/N:

If you enjoy my work, please, seriously debate becoming a patron. PCo

Why would I ask this of you? For the simple reason I need a new computer, I plan to start a x-over fanfic 'zine(and if you're interested in working on it, i need a staff of five or so volunteers editors, ESPECIALLY someone who knows newspaper/magazine design), my own personal health issues, and my grandmother's dementia is getting worse. These are listed in descending order of importance.

While I have a health plan, I still need money to pay for a professional caretaker to oversee her while I go to the doctor for myself. And I have none of that as we live off of her Social Security, Widowers benefit's, and what little I can make off of freelance work.

I'm also posting this chapter much earlier than I planned.


Charlie Weasley blinked as he stared at the phoenix. "Fawkes? Are my brothers okay?" He sang softly then kicked a letter towards him. "Oh. Duh."

He flicked it open. "Oh." The Headmaster wanted to hire him as a tutor. "Huh, I mean, I guess I could. I just finished my apprenticeship and I can take a break before beginning my journeymanship. I wonder who he wants me to tutor, though?" Fawkes sang again. "Ah, right, I'll write a reply."

~•~

Fawkes flashed into the air above a camp and flew around in a widening circle until he saw the red hair he hoped to see and began singing loudly, upsetting the goblins on purpose who disliked phoenixes due to their history of flying into goblin tunnels and stealing firestone to use in their nests.

He settled on the table in front of Bill Weasley and dropped the letter.

"Hello Fawkes. A letter for me? Did the twins blow up the school?" he asked teasingly.

He opened the letter and saw that the headmaster wanted to hire him to tutor a student to prepare him for Hogwarts.

"Huh, it does pay about ten percent more—oh, it's a sublet of my talents. I'll ask Griff." His boss had killed a griffin with only a dagger on his first outing as a graverobber in the forties and wore the griffin's claws as a necklace. It had earned him his personal public name.

The phoenix sang as Bill headed over to his boss's tent.

"Griff?"

"Yeah, Weasley?"

"Dumbledore wants to hire me," he said and handed over a second sheet of parchment.

Griff read it carefully. "Ahh. Dumbledore is not bad for a wizard. Borderline OVA."

Bill snorted in amusement. Goblins had various definitions of magicals, from the normal magical who was seen only as a source of gold going out to more useful human employees who were considered gold coming in—and treated like a goblin—to the occasional Only Vaguely Annoying magical that received the politeness due a goblin child. Few people that were OVAs realized that being treated as a goblin child instead of an equal was the least insulting insult a goblin could give.

"Sign this," Griff said, passing over a prefilled out subcontractor agreement after filling out Bill's legal name, the terms of the contract, and his pay.

"You also rated a bonus for your work this job, Weasley."

~•~

She blinked as the phoenix appeared in the kitchen then turned to look at her husband as he dropped his wand back to the table. "Dumbledore's bird?"

"Only Phoenix besides Sparky I've seen around people." A mascot for a Quidditch team.

She petted it as she removed the letter. "The Master… he remained as a ghost. He was scrying his child and saw their deaths. He wants us to come to Wales to help teach the new Master."

"I'll call Atum." The two ended up staying in Egypt due to the magical pub culture and the food and owned a home above the pub that they had bought and turned into what muggles would soon call a gastropub.

~•~

Other letters were sent more conventionally, letter transition codes hidden inside innocuous greetings designed to reactivate an intelligence network that Charlus planned to use to rebuild conventional Potter finances and power.

~•~

Remus unpacked his clothing and quickly placed them in the dresser then transfigured the lumpy mattress on the bed into a firmer, smooth mattress.

A dozen cleansing charms just to make sure then he fell onto the bed, nearly asleep until there was a knock on the door.

Grumbling, he stood and opened it, push-blade and wand in hand but hidden by the door and behind his back respectively, revealing the old witch who worked the front desk. "Letter came for you, from the British ministry."

"Oh, thank you."

He took the letter and watched her turn then closed the door.

Scowling, he wondered if this was some new fine. For being a British werewolf abroad, he imagined. The Ministry is getting worse and worse.

He set it down on the rickety table and used a charm to stabilize it before actually looking at the letter. It had Ministry markings but the wax seal of Hogwarts. Dumbledore? he wondered.

The old man had tried to help Remus over the years and had arranged for him to be hired as an occasional tutor to young werewolves who were magical but couldn't attend Hogwarts as he had but most families with a werewolf child moved to other countries where it was less dangerous for them.

Flicking the letter open, he found it was more than one page then realized it also included the latest Hogwarts newsletter.

Smiling at the nostalgia it brought up, he read it first.

He was a little disappointed to see Slytherin had won so many house cups but was heartened to see the most points lost were to a pair of Gryffindors with the phrasing that led him to believe it was for pranks.

He looked at the actual letter now. A recall, time to grow up. Harry Potter needed his father's friend to grow up and be responsible.

Remus scowled then realized Albus's tone was right. He had been running from his own problems, letting others solve them, only trying to make enough to survive.

But the anger remained and Remus let loose, destroying the room.


Wallace smiled as Harry looked confused, surrounded by some of the muggle children of the village.

"How come you don't go to school?" a girl asked.

"Umm, I'm home schooling before I start at an independent school next year."

Some of the children nodded as sagely as only children could.

"Oh. Well come play with us. You're not in class right now, right?"

"Go on, Harry," Wallace said.

The two girls who seemed to be the leaders of the group pulled him along while the smallest boy in the group offered names as they moved to the nearby park.

Wallace shifted seats so he could keep an eye on Harry then lifted his copy of the Guardian, the one English paper the inn provided free.

Harry ended up spending the next two hours playing Red Rover, Hide and Seek, and football with the children until one woman came to find the group and let them know it was time to go home. Harry was made to promise to meet them after their classes the next day, too.

Wallace smirked as Harry sat down next to him. "Have fun?"

"Umm, yeah. But they're exhausting!"

"You should look into building up your stamina. I've personally found that it helps to be in good shape for casting magic." Wallace was simplifying it.

Harry nodded. "Grandfather said the same thing."

In the Inn, Harry was surprised to see people not in robes. Ever since arriving, everyone staying or dining had been obviously wizards and witches.

"Muggleborns," Mrs. Barq said when she brought Harry's dinner to his table and noticing where he was looking. "They actually own the local greengrocer so they have to dress to fit in in the village."

Harry nodded, filing that away: Some magicals worked muggle.


Charlie opened the kitchen door of the Burrow and screamed in fright. His mother was naked on her back on the butcher block and his father was plunging away, saying "Arrrr, me matey" as Molly cried out in pleasure/pain.

"Oh Merlin!" Charlie screamed.

His parents scrambled to cover themselves, Molly rushing for the stairs as Arthur pulled up his pants and resettled his robes then cast cleaning spells.

"No, no, take your time," Charlie said, hands over his eyes. "I'll just go to St. Mungo's and get an obliviation."

Before he could apparate away, Arthur grabbed his son's arm. "Oh grow up, how do you think we made you?"

"Not like that! That's not how babies are made!"

Arthur turned red, realizing Charlie had been able to see what they were doing.

"Oh, grow up," he decided. "Why are you here?"

"I have an appointment with Dumbledore about a tutoring position. Not sure where i'm staying yet."

"Well your room is just how you left it. Do you want some pie? Your mum made a rhubarb pie yesterday."

Charlie stared at his father as if he were mental.

~•~

Bill arrived at home to the smell of his mother's pot roast and saw that the slow cooker was sitting on the butcher block next to two half-eaten pies. He plated himself slices of the rhubarb and boysenberry pies then called out, "Mum? Gin? Ronny?"

He sat down to eat the pie, guessing his mother was at the pub she waited tables at a few days a week and Ron and Ginny with her.

Done eating, he cleaned up and walked outside to apparate to Hogsmeade.

He stopped in Honeyduke's, deciding to get the twins, Percy, Ron, and Ginny a little something and found a small purple bag with gold tassel strings filled with a dozen chocolate galleons and a random assortment of candies.

He paid for them then tucked them into a pocket where he normally kept his spellbreaker gear.

"Bill!"

He turned and smiled. Rosmerta was waving at him as she held a kidney shaped wicker basket full of produce to her side.

"What are you doing back in Hogsmeade? Last I heard, Percy said you were in Africa somewhere."

"Got a job interview to tutor a student."

Rosmerta frowned. "At school?"

"No, he starts next year, I think. The Headmaster didn't give me a lot of information."

She nodded and told him good luck then watched him go, admiring the way his distressed leather trousers wrapped his sculpted arse, pushing back the thought she was twenty years older than him.

Bill rapped on the gates and waited until he saw Hagrid approaching. "Bill! What brings yer by?"

"Dumbledore offered me a tutoring job."

"'E did the same fer Charlie too! 'E went up 'bout ten minutes ago," Hagrid said as he opened the gates.

Outside the Headmaster's office, he found Charlie sitting crosslegged, using his wand to float himself three feet in the air by aiming it downwards through his crossed legs. "Hey Billy. What're you doing here?"

"Job interview. Like you, I guess. Don't call me Billy. And what're you doing?"

"Carissa, my dragonmaster teaches it to us all. If we can't do it while doing our orals we don't pass."

He pulsed himself upwards then landed on his feet.

"So we're trying for the same job?"

"Complimentary jobs," Albus said as he opened his office door. "Apologies, Minister Fudge was rather emphatic about diplomatic issues. Come in."

Fawkes trilled a soft welcoming tune then went back to preening as they took their offered seats. Charlie took an offered lemon sherbet while both accepted the offered tea.

"How are your careers going? I understand you just recently became a journeyman, Charles?"

He nodded. "And my own hut near a hot spring! It's awesome. After a long day I can relax then just walk fifteen feet to my bed."

"And you got a promotion too, William?"

"They call it a promotion but it still pays the same. Though Griff does basically just give me orders," Bill said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess it is a promotion. He hasn't yelled at me in months!"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, goblins can be stern taskmasters. I once worked for the bank for two years while excavating an old Alchemist's homestead.

"Now, as for the position.

"You will not be able to speak of what we discuss. If you don't accept the job the nondisclosure agreement will still be binding. Here."

He pushed over two contracts and Bill read them. "Simple. Good binding nomenclature. Based on Greenjaw's work?"

"Ahh, you've studied his work?"

"Griff's sister is Greenjaw's son's best mate. Griff made us study his bindings because they're based on Egyptian hexwork. They're artistic in a way. Look at his work in a three dimensional matrix. Oh, uh, yeah, sign Charlie."

The two Weasleys signed and Albus smiled. "Harry Potter is currently requiring some tutoring on what to expect in school and in both your fields, as I'm sure you both know, the Potters have history."

They nodded. Potters were historically known as independent curse-breakers and until a former minister was bribed into regulating Potters and other independents out of it, leaders in the field of dragonbreeding. Then Potters revolutionized Dragon Reservation design, creating them in such a way multiple dragons could exist in spaces that normally housed only one.

"Essentially, you'll be chaperones if he wants to travel outside muggle areas while he studies with you. Don't expect to set a syllabus, allow him to explore as is his wont. His grandfather's ghost is with him and, for now, his guardian."

"Doesn't that set a dangerous precedent?" Bill asked.

"As long as it doesn't go to the wizengamot it's not a precedent," Charlie disagreed.

Albus chuckled. "Quite.

"You may tell your parents what you're doing here but no one else. Though your siblings meeting Harry might be beneficial later on."

"Mum sent a letter telling us she served Harry in the pub she works in," Bill supplied. "Ron and Gin saw him there."

"Yes, I saw that rumor in the Prophet."

He filed the contracts into a new lawyer's box—he had ordered a new one while perusing Sirius's arrest record, knowing anyone connected with a Wielder was going to cause issues—then turned back to his former students. "Your brothers are currently on the Quidditch pitch and in the library. Do not let me detain you."

Albus watched them go then opened his diary, reading his thoughts on the Potters he had met in his years. The Potter that had taught him at Hogwarts ending up being a Potter he taught years later had been a strange revelation but Potters and time magic being intertwined was amusing. He made a mental note to do his best to keep young Harry away from it.

He flicked a grape into the air for Fawkes then said, "Greedy," as the bird flew to the desk and buried his head in the bowl, making slurping and chomping sounds as he ate.

Letting Harry be taken from the Dursleys's was a decision that still troubled him but it was also necessary. Darklings, though admittedly he knew little of them from short discussions before Potter left teaching, would have lain waste to the Dursleys from what he had learned of them. Should've checked in on him but there were so many reasons not to, Dumbledore thought. Magicals, even those who wouldn't want to harm him, knowing where he resided could lead those who wanted him hurt to his home. But now, Harry was safer away from them. "Actually, they're safer away from him," he said with a snort that caused a chiding tone from Fawkes upon detecting his human's dark humour.

"How do the Darklings not bother you?" he asked the phoenix, a question he had often wondered.

The bird looked at him for a moment then went back to feasting on the grapes. Albus got the feeling it was a dumb question. Then Albus remembered something a muggleborn friend had said about Chaos, Neutrality, Evil. He made a note on a scrap of parchment to ask Gary what he had been talking about.


Atum, Marianna, and her husband, Zebedee sat at the dining table of Atum's small home, Atum holding his sleeping great-granddaughter while the girl's mother prepared lunch for the small group. "How shall we get there?"

"I was thinking a leisurely cruise," Zebedee said. "I stole one of those shipping containers muggles use and turned it into a nice little potions lab after she threw out my last one." Marianna scoffed. He had nearly burned their flat down. For the eighth time. "A couple days work and we can turn it into a bungalow and then set it on a ship heading from here to England. Those cargo ships muggles use are enormous."

"How do we know which ones to use?" Atum asked.

"Grandfather, Marin's brother works in that field," Taliya said. Marin, her husband, was a muggleborn. "His job is tracking ships I think. He often discusses things like that at dinner."

"Excellent, invite all the family to dinner tomorrow," Atum commanded. As the eldest, he was ostensibly head of the family but his son was really in charge except in moments where Atum wanted something. "Ahhh, a woman's work is never done," he finished, gesturing towards the now stinky girl in his arms.

Zebedee laughed until Marianna punched him while Taliya sighed, a smile on her face nonetheless as she took her daughter to go change her. She knew for a fact Atum had changed her dad but was now old enough to get away with that kind of talk. If her husband ever tried that, though, she'd transfigure him into a fresh diaper.


Remus finished counting his money. The cost to return to England, the taxes to get back in, the bribes, and so on would cost him everything he had but to make up for his own failures, he found it all worth it.


Harry was lying on the small sandy portion of the bay, staring up at the sky, utterly exhausted. His nights were dreams that taught him about the history of the Wielders, his mornings were histories of the Potters, and his afternoons were a chance to be ten years old with other village children though most were muggle. He only knew of one other definitively magical child in the bedlam and that's because she was Licorice Barq, the daughter of the people who ran his inn.

Licorice appeared at that moment and plopped down beside him. "Mum wants me to tell you that it's time for dinner."

He nodded and started to get up then helped her up.

Licorice decided to accept his offer to eat her dinner with him since it was the only time she was allowed in the inn's dining room except when helping clean it. She felt a little apprehensive as she sat down, wishing she had on a nice dress or robes like most of their custom did then realized Harry was dressed as shabbily as she was.

"What's it like being self-taught?" Licorice asked.

"I have a tutor," he replied. "Wallace is very knowledgeable," he prevaricated.

"Oh, he's not just your valet?" She had overheard her parents discussing how the man was the boy's servant then her mum corrected the term to valet.

Harry shook his head.

He asked her about the hedge-school she attended and she chattered on throughout the dinner, telling him about their teacher, a local mum, and how she was debating between Beauxbaton's where her mum had gone, Hogwarts, or possibly going to Livermorny where her father had gone. He also learned there were four more magical children in the village, all under seven.

~•~

A tired Harry crawled out of bed in the morning and opened his suite's door to find his breakfast waiting for him as usual. He carried the try in and leisurely buttered a slice of toast then looked at his book as his tea cup was filled by the auto-pour teapot.

Harry absentmindedly thanked the teapot as he heard "Good morning," as Charlus floated in. At night he often went around the village for reasons he had yet to share. Harry had a suspicion the old ghost was a bit of a pervert after he had idly commented on Mrs. Barq's massive cleavage and thick lips. Harry wasn't sure what was so impressive about the lips and resisted asking. He figured he would learn on his own eventually as it was.

"Morning gramps." They had both finally decided on a mutually acceptable honorific for the ghost since grandfather sounded much too formal.

"I meant to ask but forgot. What were your plans before you found out about magic?"

Harry put down his toast and looked up to the ceiling.

"After school I wanted to join the military, use that to pay for university, emigrate to America, get commissioned in the United States Navy, then eventually go to work for NASA and one day walk on Mars.

"I guess that's not really possible now."

Charlus was impressed. James's plans hadn't gone beyond Quidditch—though admittedly while his mother wasn't impressed by their son wanting to be a sports professional, Charlus had been all for it—and eventually mastery of the Darkness.

"Of course it is. We'll work on a multipoint plan to see Magicals one day walk on Mars," Charlus replied. "With your footprints the first."

Harry thought about it. He was also expected to help grow the Potter funds.

"Sadly, for now though, potions practice."

Harry nodded. After their magical history lessons—most of which centered around Potter accomplishments but had an overall purview, this was his favorite since he got to actually make something. Most of it was potions he ended up dumping in the ocean after destabilizing them but it was still fun to chop, julienne, and dice without it all going to feed the pigs and and a bitch.


Charlie groaned as he pushed the empty plate away. "Mum, that is the most amazing hash I've ever tasted. What was the spicy bit?"

"Jalapeños." Before she could finish her sentence, a red-faced Ginny fanned her mouth and stated "The recipe is Harry Potter's!"

Molly nodded. "He had breakfast in the pub a few days ago and gave us a dozen of his recipes. Cookie replaced five of his and added the other seven to the menu."

Bill piled a little more on his plate then ruffled Ron's hair as the boy picked out his own jalapeno slices. "I'll take those if you don't want them."

Ron handed them over. "Can you go flying with me today?"

"Sorry, we're meeting our student today. But our first day off I'll take you out."

Charlie stood and stretched. "How much is one of those Auror satchels you got?"

"Dunno," Bill said. "My team leader gets them for us at a deal from the artisans. He's married to the chief artisan's sister."

Ron looked at Bill's satchel, open on the table. It was filled with dozens of magical implements he couldn't recognize except for a shrunken broom and a Sneaky Pete wand.

"Is that a Sneaky Pete?" Arthur asked as he sat down. "Are those standard issue for cursebreakers now?"

"Dunno," Bill said. "I mean, yeah, it's a Sneaky Pete but I don't see other teams using them very often. Our team leader prefers we have the best tools possible. My cursepicks are made of gold stabilized magicite. They're brilliant!"

"What are cursepicks?" Ron asked.

"Later, Ronny. Let's go Chuck!"

"Mum, can I go to Luna's?" Bill heard Ginny say as he walked out the door.

Charlie growled at being called Chuck but swallowed his tea then refilled the travel mug and followed him out the door, apparating to Platform 9 & ¾ as soon as they were outside the anti-apparition jinx around the home.

~•~

The two exited the floo tucked into the corner of the small shopping area in the village's mage quarter as Charlie asked, "What is a Sneaky Pete?"

"A yew wand with a lunar hyena whisker. It's not very good for anything except breaking other's spells. It's why if you had one you'd get arrested. Same with the picks."

"Cursepicks are also able to unlock almost anything," Albus said, "with little effort. If they were made of purer magicite they could potentially unlock everything."

"There's actually purer magicite?" Charlie asked. "I make that stuff every Saturday but it's such a pain to get rid of afterwards."

"Yes, there are two magicite spells. The family that invented it released the spell of lesser purity while keeping the other in the family.

"It's good that you keep up with creating the material. I find that now I can create five stone compared to a few ounces when I was your age."

"We just strap ours to fireworks. Makes the bang a lot bigger even if it occasionally discolors or distorts the effects. We usually make bets on how it'll change it. I wonder what the purer stuff would do."

Albus nodded. "Be much bigger and more... energetic. The school makes use of it as well. The house-elves collect it and deposits it near the hearthstone."

"I read an earlier Hogwarts, A History that discussed that," Charlie said, nodding to the pretty witch they passed, turning to check out her backside. "But the latest edition I've seen doesn't mention it at all."

"Only the house-elves know where it is," Dumbledore stated. "Not even I as Headmaster can find it. Or command them to reveal it. And I and others have made a few concerted efforts to do so over the years.

"Ah, here we are."

Standing outside the inn, Charlie and Bill admired the building. It was older looking than the Burrow but the white stone was freshly scrubbed clean with violet wild roses growing along trellises framing windows and a roof with emerald green sod growing atop it. "'The Potter's Wheel.' I've heard of this place. Very good food the Quibbler said."

"You read the Quibbler?" Bill asked his brother.

"I babysat Gin and Luna a few times. She wanted me to read it to them. It's got some good satire."

Inside, the witch sitting at the counter smiled. "Welcome back, Albus. Are these his teachers?"

"Potentially."

"He's out back, he and Licorice are learning how to prune the topiaries. His valet is in the reading room."

"Harry first, I think. Has anyone recognized him?"

"People have asked but I say his last name is Potier. No one speaks French I guess. He keeps his hood up when he's out."

He nodded and thanked her. As they walked to the back garden, Bill asked, "Potier?"

"French for Potter. French is the lingua franca for dragonbreeders. Dunno why. And no one expects Harry Potter to be in an inn in Wales," Charlie said.

"Quite," Albus replied.

They stood in the doorway, watching Harry and the girl carefully trimming a small tree as a house-elf watched anxiously.

Licorice looked up. "Oh, guests. The garden is closed until this afternoon, I'm sorry."

"They're not guests," Harry told her. "That's Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh!" Licorice jumped up and swiped the dirt off her dress then curtsied as politely as she could.

Harry rolled his eyes at her actions as he stood. "Kiri, we'll stop messing up your work now."

The house-elf looked incredibly pleased as the two children moved away and the house-elf went back to work.

"Miss Barq, I do apologize but I must monopolize Master Potier's time."

She nodded and said, "Dinner?"

"Depends on how my homework goes."

Once she was gone, Harry and the three adults sat at one of the stone tables and Kiri brought out tea and lemon curd tarts.

"Harry, this is Bill and Charlie Weasley. They're both graduates of Hogwarts who now work in your family's historical fields. Bill," he gestured at the older of the two," is a cursebreaker at Gringott's while Charlie has just finished his apprenticeship in Romania."