It is extraordinary to say that we are the human race, a widespread and powerful presence in this life, but also just another animal walking this earth in a world that has a plan and an order that is vaster than we can imagine. And yet it is true.

Welcome to RiverTalk.

We are on Day Three of the "Mainwaring v. MacGibbon" case that has set the media ablaze and the Wizengamot's marble shaking in its settings. Yesterday, as we reported here, the accusations were flying hard and fast between the two international Quidditch players - Quintus Mainwaring of the Caerphilly Catapaults, and Eion MacGibbon of the Wigtown Wanderers. The air was practically toxic with the amount of mud being slung; Rita Skeeter's horrid Quick Quotes Quill could hardly keep up. (And, listeners, if you'll allow me a momentary editorial - Skeeter's presence in that room means that an article is in the works. As a journalist myself, it is not very sportsmanlike to say that you should not read her work, but…well…you know that phrase about taking something with a grain of salt? Well, carry the whole shaker with you when her account comes out. And now, back to the story…) For those of you not following the story - and I applaud any such people if they have somehow avoided the media barrage that has come from this case - Quintus Mainwaring is suing Eion MacGibbon for reckless endangerment with intent to kill based off of last month's match, in which MacGibbon hexed Mainwaring mid-air, causing him to fall almost 200 feet from where the Caerphilly seeker was flying. MacGibbon, meanwhile, has pleaded not guilty, and has accused Mainwaring of seducing and cheating with his wife, Emily MacGibbon, with the intent of running away with her.

To say this case is murky is putting it lightly. Our correspondent is at the courtroom now, and we will be bringing you story as it is happening to keep you updated. But for now…let's go to a word from our sponsors.

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Lee paced around the back office of WWW, mulling things over. George (and Angelina) had been getting on his case about making a move with the bet ever since Hermione had broken up with Alfie over a week ago. He had been hesitant to move in and start working on the situation. He wanted to make sure she was not still upset over the breakup; he wasn't a complete cad, after all. He had had to coach and comfort so many of his female friends through breakups before, so he knew how they usually went. And sure, he might have dated a few of those girls, and then when they had separated, left with the hope that some other poor bloke would know how to hold them and rub their back just like they liked, but that was beside the point. He wasn't expecting Hermione to be anything like all the other girls he had dealt with. Time had proven that she was solely herself, utterly unique. So he was unsure how to go about this situation. All he knew is that he needed information on her, and that he had to proceed slowly but with purpose.

He heard the jingle that meant that new customers had come in, and George shouting a familiar welcome. He heard voices and poked his head around the door. It was Ginny and Harry at the counter, talking to George, who was playing with a miniature of himself.

"Tedmeister! You visit and you don't even say hello to Uncle Lee?" he called across the shop, drawing looks and smiles from the others as well as from some errant customers. He heard the happy squeal from the six year old begging to be put down, and dropped to his knees just in time to catch the child barreling towards him, his flaming hair shifting to turquoise and his freckles fading as he crossed the shop. "There's my boy!" said Lee, clutching the boy to his chest in a bear hug as little arms wound around his neck. "What're you looking for today?"

"A doll."

"A doll?" Lee asked as he carried the boy back to the others. He glanced over Teddy's shoulder to see Ginny mouthing something. It took him a minute, but he realized it was NOT A WOLF DOLL. "What kind of doll?"

"A wolf doll!"

He stifled a laugh as Harry groaned and Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, what about a cool action figure that can ride on your wolf's back? Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Wellllll…" Teddy said, clearly contemplating.

"Here, your Daddy and Uncle George can go take you to look at them and you can see which one you want to be friends with your dolls, okay?" He handed Teddy off to Harry, who took his hand and followed George up the stairs to the "6 and Under" section on the second floor.

"Thanks for that," said Ginny, turning and giving him a tired smile. "Andy is sick today, so we're taking him around town to get him away from the house so she can rest. I just had a match last night though, so I'm really dragging today."

"Congrats on the win," he said, raising his hand for a high five. "Knew you could beat those Kestrels."

She grinned and slapped his palm. "Amiee got MVP for the match. Solid goal-tending."

They fell into a companionable silence as she fiddled with the small packages they had in bowls next to the register. Lee was searching for another topic to bring up, when his earlier problem came back to him.

"Hey Gin, how's Hermione doing? After the breakup and all?"

"She's fine," she said simply. "Why?"

"She's my friend. And I want to make sure she's faring well."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, looking extremely reminiscent of Molly. "Then why don't you ask her how she's doing? If you're such good friends."

"C'mon Ginny, that's awkward. She knows I hated her tosser boyfriend."

"So? We all did. And she broke up with him. That shouldn't bother her."

Lee let out an aggravated sigh. Trust Ginny to take this simple topic and make it more aggravating than it already was. "Just...ugh...okay, so she's well?"

"Yes," she said, picking up a pack of Limited Edition Fall Flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"Like, how far in the recovery process would you say she is? Just hazarding a guess," he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, like this information wasn't important or even interesting.

"She's over it but taking her time alone now," she said thoughtfully before catching herself. The grin spread across her face like the Cheshire Cat that the famous wizard Lewis Carroll wrote about in that story about that muggle girl, Alice. "Lee," she sang, "why are you asking?"

He hesitated. Was it cheating if she knew? If he told her, it was practically guaranteed that she would (1) tell Harry, who would probably tell Ron, (2) try and play matchmaker. He weighed his options. She was nosy; she would probably find out about this one way or another. And if he let her try and find out on her own, it opened up the possibility of her finding out about the bet, which would be disastrous. But, on the other hand, that group was fiercely loyal to Hermione. If he told them, he would be setting up a veritable cornucopia of sources that he could get intel on how to woo Hermione best. But if this failed...well, he didn't want to imagine what they would do to him for hurting Hermione.

"Leeeeeeeeeee," she sang again.

"IfancyHermione," he blurted out, carefully arranging his face into one of shocked embarrassment at the idea that he had uttered those words aloud.

Ginny's eyes widened before she let out a high pitched squeal, so different from her usual demeanor. Lee was thankful his grimace of pain at his potentially bleeding eardrums could easily be construed as embarrassment. "And you want to date her?"

"If she'd have me," he mumbled bashfully.

"Oh Merlin!" She looked about ready to vibrate out of her skin, she was so excited. It was all going perfectly. He just had to seal the deal with the magic words.

"You can't tell anyone!" he said desperately.

Ginny grinned. "Of course, Lee! You're secret is safe with me."

He watched as she turned away towards her husband, who was walking back down the stairs with Teddy, who was clutching a female Healer doll, complete with lime green robe and a fabric medical chart sewn to one hand. She headed over to them, beaming and muttering something. Harry's eyes flicked to Lee for an instant before smiling softly at her and muttering, Later. Check and mate.

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Lee headed down the dark earthen tunnel, following the light of his wand and breathing in the cool, damp, moss-scented air. He was probably about a quarter of a mile from the school at this point.

While the rebuilding of the castle had taken place, Lee and George had made sure to honor the Marauders before them and help those that would follow in their footsteps by taking care of the secret passages. Not that anyone else really knew that. Well, Harry had called them on it, after looking over the Map and being alarmed at the presence of passages he had never seen before. They had unblocked a couple in the castle - the fake tapestries that were actually doors, the hidden alcoves, the small, circular wrought iron staircases hidden behind paintings that let you avoid the traffic between floors. But when it came to the passages in and out of the castle, they thought it best to leave them blocked. There was the appeal of nostalgia to keep the path from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow open, or the one behind the one-eyed crone, but after George had pointed out that many had been barricaded after being discovered by Death Eaters, those passages had lost some of their appeal. After realizing that Aberforth would not want to continue using his bar as a means into the castle once the War was over, George and Lee put their heads together to find a good location for a new one. They decided not to put one in the Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Too expected. So they put it where most students in their right minds were not likely to go - Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Not that Pyrene Puddifoot knew that the opening to the underground passage was there. They had been careful not to make it inside the shop - no one wanted to be seen going to and from the shop so frequently - but rather had placed the opening on the back of the tiny shed-cum-herb garden. One simply had to slip back to the shed, tap your wand on the painted bumblebee in the garden mosaic, and say Dissendium, and a trapdoor would appear in the cobblestone road. One simply took the little stepladder down into the passage and walked to the school.

Once he had come to the opening of the passage - concealed behind a painting of a banquet three down from the painting that leads to the kitchens, just down the Hufflepuff hallway - he pressed his ear to the door. He could hear a few faint footsteps. He waited for quiet before he carefully pushed open the door and slipped into the deserted hallway. Tempted as he was to stop by the kitchens to say hello to the house elves and grab a snack, he was here on a recon mission.

He walked down the empty hallways, up flights of stairs, making quick turns here and there, until he ended up at the History of Magic classroom. He pressed his ear to the door. Hermione's voice rang out clearly, even though the heavy wooden door.

During 1911, the gargoyles went on strike without the permission of their union leader. Now, as we saw with the goblin strike of 1872, this leads to nothing but bad consequences for all of those involved.

He grinned before heading to the nearest staircase, taking the steps two at a time. His eyes roved over the paintings as he turned into a hallway bathed in a green-gold light from where the sun filtered in through the moss and ivy that climbed the walls. The old men and women that populated the paintings eyed him carefully over their pince-nez and spectacles, peeking from around towers of heavy looking tomes. He was just about to head to her painting when—

"Lee? What are you doing here?"

Bollocks.