J. K. Rowling has asserted her right under UK law to be identified both as the creator of the Harry Potter intellectual property and as a MILF.

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CHAPTER TEN

''Neville, if there's one thing I've learned in the past week it's that Gryffs are terrible liars. I know you use the Floo Network most days.''

Neville didn't quite blush, but he looked a little warm. ''I don't mind Apparating in to work. And if you wanted to Side-Along...''

''Yeah, it would solve a lot of problems.'' I looked around Diagon Alley, feeling nostalgic as I watched the groups of shoppers. Narrow cobblestone street, old shops packed close in together, tiny flats above the shops... It reminded me of Old Quebec. Jessi and I had spent a couple of Christmases there while visiting her grandparents. It had been nice to be part of a family again, even just for a little while.

''Mainly it would solve the privacy problem. The East Wing bathroom just isn't a good place to shower when it's packed with students.'' The Witch's Rest Café was a bit crowded that morning, but Neville and I had managed a table by the bay window. I kept an eye on the street. If I craned my neck I would be able to see Ollivanders, but I was looking for Jezebel Rosier.

''Yes,'' said Neville. ''I hear we've already received over two hundred complaints about you. Just think how they'd react if they knew you were showering with their children.''

Witch's Rest served a tea that could wake the dead. Black tea, cloves, rum, and cinnamon, served with lemon. I'd already eaten breakfast at Hogwarts and it wasn't time for lunch, but I'd ordered toast just based on the smell of the place. ''Problem is, how would I get around if you're sick?''

Neville shrugged. ''Hire an Apparatus, an Apparation professional. It's like hiring a Muggle cabby. They're a bit expensive, but there's usually one or two waiting about the pub. They don't get a lot of business, but it's enough to make a living.''

''How much?''

''Five Galleons one way. Seven and a bit both ways, a little more if you want them to wait while you run an errand.''

''Huh.'' I chewed on my toast for a minute, thinking. I washed it down with another shot of tea. ''This place has really good baking.''

''George's wife owns the Witch's Rest. I don't come by as often as I should.'' Neville looked around at the café interior. ''It's a bit feminine for my tastes.''

Judging by the clientèle it was where witchly MILFs went for tea and pastries. I could deal with flowers on the table for a view like that. And the baked goods were amazing.

''There are Muggle coffee shops in the area, aren't there?''

''Right on Charing Cross Road. You could get your internet there, and drop in to the Cauldron for firewhisky. Best of both worlds.''

''Yeah. I'll have to look around. Listen, before you go there's something I've been meaning to ask you.''

''I distill Galilea's perfumes for her on special commission, she has loads of jewellery, I've no idea what her favourite flower is, and I don't know and don't want to know what size she wears.''

''How'd you get your job if you don't know how to bribe your boss? No, this is about an old teacher of yours.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

We'd discussed security and Jezebel over breakfast, Galilea, Professor Fairbairn, and I.

Only half the staff were there for Saturday's breakfast. Neville ate at home, Rubeus always woke early to tend the animals, and most of the rest were hung over.

But all of the students were there, and my God the din they made. Most of the peak of the Wizarding baby boom were there under the grey sky of the Great Hall. Black-robed students gossiping, arguing, flirting, posing, building their alliances and enmities. The air was full of owls and paper airplanes, and little sparks of light passed between those students who could cast Messaging Charms.

''Nev will take you in to Diagon Alley a bit early,'' said Professor Ewart Fairbairn. A lean, wiry man with scarred hands and face, Fairbairn wore simple black and grey robes. His clothes were practical, like his short hair, and he had the same calm measuring gaze as the sharpshooter I'd met once. Or the sociopath who'd spoken in a psych lecture I'd attended. ''That will give you time to check the lay of the land. And Nev has a few errands to run for Hannah.''

For no reason I'd heard, Neville's nickname in the Aurors had been 'Knock Nicely Nev'. I'd have to get the story from him some day.

''Are we certain Miss Rosier's intentions aren't honest?'' Asked Galilea. We were probably sitting a bit too close together.

''You saw me at dinner. I was babbling and sweating the whole evening. And then she sends me that letter saying what an interesting conversation it was, and she'd like to see me again? Not to mention what Ron Weasley said about her.'' I shook my head, then had a sip of tea. ''No. The only way I could have made a worst first impression would have been to throw up on her.''

''I remember that date,'' said Fairbairn. Galilea and I both looked at him. ''Too much gillyweed brandy.''

''What's the slogan?'' Asked Galilea. '''Drink Like A Lord, Sleep With The Fishes'?''

''That's the one.'' Fairbairn hmphed, then got back to business. ''Neville will run his errands, which just coincidentally will keep him in the area. And I spoke to an old friend in the MLE. There'll be a team of Hit-Witches in civvies around Witch's Rest.''

''Officially or unofficially?'' Asked Galilea.

''Un.'' Fairbairn sipped his tea. ''My friend's daughter has her eye on the latest Comet. The Mach Go. One hundred and twenty-five Galleons.''

''I will bury it in the purchases for Hogwarts.''

By the standards of Muggle Britain or North America, Wizarding Britain was spectacularly corrupt. The 'great reformer' Shacklebolt hadn't even tried to tackle that yet in any serious manner. According to Galilea doing so would probably cost him his job, and give his opponents a chance to attack all his other work.

''I don't like this, Geoffrey. It seems reckless.''

''Well, the Wizarding World hasn't adopted suicide bombing as a tactic - ''

''Excuse me? Does that mean what I think it does?'' She looked horrified.

''If you think it means blowing yourself up in a public place and murdering a bunch of kids, then yeah. But there's no sign that Rosier is any sort of frontline fighter or suicidal butcher. I don't like it either, but I want some idea of what The One Hundred has in mind for me.''

''We'll keep him in one piece, Galilea. And if worse comes to worse, Knock Nicely is there to talk them to death.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

I didn't make it out of Hogwarts until a bit after that. There was one thing I wanted to do as early as possible, just to show that back-handed son of a bitch up.

I found Albus Potter in the Quad, watching his brother horse around with some older boys.

''James Potter, don't try to pretend that wasn't you. This is your first warning. The second comes with ten points off Gryffindor.'' The brat actually grinned at me.

Albus Potter looked up at me from under his mop of reddish brown hair. He'd had a very serious expression last night as he'd approached the Sorting Hat. He had the same expression this morning.

''Good morning, Mr. Potter. If you've got a few minutes, there's someone who'd like to speak to you.'' Even if he'd never admit it.

''Am I in trouble, Professor?'' Rubeus was right. The kid was a bit of a worrier.

''Nope. Your brother might be though.'' I watched them for a few seconds. Their game wasn't quite as brutal as watching the pongos at combat football. ''Nah. No harm, no foul. So, do you have a bit of time?''

He looked back towards his brother, then shrugged. ''Sure.''

I led him off. As we were about to leave the Quad I yelled over my shoulder. ''I saw that, James Potter! Ten from Gryffindor, just like I warned you! And another fifteen for that gesture!''

Professor Theobrosan had given me a small Charmed bracelet that let me control House points. Good thing too. James Potter was the third kid I'd had to penalize that morning. God, I hoped they would all settle down soon.

We found the stairs in the Hospital Tower easily enough. A few of the professors complained about the castle's shifting floor plan, but I'd never had trouble getting around. ''Your brother and his friends snuck into some off-limits areas a while back. Had a grand adventure in the underground chambers.''

''He told me about it.''

''Did he tell you he lost a very valuable gift your father gave him? An inheritance from your grandfather?'' I'd gotten some of the story from Galilea, the rest from Rubeus.

''No.'' His eyes widened a bit. I had his complete attention here.

''If he'd just been caught in the off-limits area Gal - The Headmistress probably wouldn't have searched him. He could have kept that gift. But he wanted to show off to his friends, so he damaged school property. Lots of courage, and he wants to be seen. That's why he's in Gryffindor.'' And, if Rita Skeeter could be trusted about House traits, a total lack of common sense.

We stopped outside the doors to Madam Bones' domain. ''You don't need to answer this if you don't want to. I'm just curious. Why are you in my House, Mr. Potter?''

The son of the most famous wizard in Britain looked at me, his expression still serious. ''The Hat asked me if I wanted to be 'James Potter's little brother' all my life.''

''Did it say anything about your parents?''

The boy blushed a bit. He shrugged.

''Well, Slytherin's a good place for you if you don't want to be 'Harry Potter's son' all your life.''

He shoots, he scores. Albus Potter turned bright red. I turned away to give him a bit of privacy and opened the door to the school hospital.

There were a half-dozen robed kids in there, but only two of them were being looked at by Healers. The rest looked as though they were just there for their friends. I led Albus past the weepy-eyed kids, down the rows of beds to Madam Bones' office door.

I knocked, then opened the door when she called out. I stuck my head in. ''Sorry to interrupt, but is the Headmaster in? I have someone here to meet him.''

''The Headmaster? Oh yes, I see.'' She smiled slightly. ''Yes, he's in.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Of course he'd never thank me for it. But he'd owe me. And Severus Snape never forgot a debt.