Um, wow, so yeah it's been a while... I have no excuses really, except to say that this story hasn't been forgotten by any means and this chapter took next to forever to write for some reason (I swear I've been working on this chapter for the past 4-5 months). I am going to do my best to make sure this sort of delay doesn't happen with the one.

Anyway, I'd like to send out a huge thank you to those of you who've decided to stick around and especially to the people who took the time to review the last chapter! I really appreciate every single comment. :)

Chapter 7

Hermione stepped out of the elevator and into the Ministry's atrium.

Despite the rush of people eager to head out and start their weekend, she easily spotted Harry and Ron waiting for her by the statue commemorating the Blood Wars. It almost looked out-of-place within the grand hall of the Ministry of Magic with its overly-simplistic design: a tall white marble column with a wand, a wizard's hat and a sword assembled at its base and covered in the names of those who'd fallen victim to Voldemort's reign. She had to admit it was much nicer than the original design which had been a giant statue of Harry holding a wand out, lightning bolt-shaped scar blazing gold on his forehead and cloak billowing dramatically behind him. Harry had fought tooth and nail to make sure that version never got made.

Ron was the first to notice her and his delighted smile was enough to make warm butterflies flutter deep inside her. She was all too happy to let him pull her in as a greeting and revelled in the warm feeling on his lips on hers.

"So, are we going straight to the Burrow, or were you two going to pop by your apartment first?" Harry asked, a teasing light in his eyes.

Hermione pulled back and looked over at him. "As tempting as that might be, I'd really like to talk to Mister Weasley as soon as possible," she said. "With you and Ginny heading to Paris tomorrow, it won't give us much time to plan our trip if we do need to go."

Ron made an irritated sound. "I can't believe this is how I'll get to finally see New York," he said.

Harry frowned. "New York? I thought you said the Air Force base was in Colorado?"

"It is," Hermione immediately answered. "But the United States only has two major international portkey hubs, one in New York and one in San Francisco. The New York one is older and, from what I can tell, less confusing overall and is more conveniently located with relation to tourist sites. Unless one of you can think of a reason you'd rather visit San Francisco?"

Harry and Ron both shook their heads.

"Then New York it is!" she declared with an accomplished grin.

Part of her had hoped Harry didn't have an until-now unknown desire to see San Francisco because Hermione was actually quite looking forward to visiting New York. There were so many places she was looking forward to seeing in-person, including many of the wizarding parts she hadn't even realized existed until she'd began researching their potential trip. If someone asked, they still had to be able to claim they'd gone on vacation, after all. Which meant having the pictures and souvenirs to prove it.

"Mate, if you thought she hadn't already spent all week researching this, you're a bloody loon," she heard Ron mock-whisper to Harry.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Right, I don't know why I hadn't expected it really," Harry conceded.

"So, shall we then?" Hermione asked, pointedly looking towards the doors.

Together they then walked out of the Ministry of Magic building and into the dreary misty London afternoon. As soon as they'd made their way past the Ministry's anti-apparation wards, they disapparated away.

Unlike London, Ottery on Catchpole was enjoying a lovely sunny afternoon, if a bit on the chilly side. Fleur greeted them as they walked through the front gate from where she was sitting on a chair beside a patch of bright purple and pink zinnias. It was such an odd thing to see that it made them all stop to stare at her.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked her, beating her to it. Not only was Fleur not especially interested in botany, but it was unheard of for Mrs Weasley to allow anyone who was part of the family to just sit on the sidelines while dinner was being prepared (unless the kitchen was already too crowded or said person was either sick or injured).

"I am fine," said Fleur, waving off their concern. Her nose scrunched delicately in disgust. "Apparently ze smell of frying onions no longer agrees vith me."

"Oh, that's... unfortunate," said Hermione. "We'll see you inside for dinner?"

Fleur nodded and they left her enjoying the fresh, onion-free air.

As she walked into the mostly silent house, it struck Hermione that this was the first time since starting her apprenticeship at the Ministry that she'd arrive this early to Friday dinner. Both the realization and the stillness inside the house felt rather odd. It wasn't like she hadn't spent weeks here during the summer holidays when she was at Hogwarts and therefore didn't have first-hand experience of the Burrow as anything other than an inviting madhouse, but those summer suddenly felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, a delighted grin on her face as she came out of the kitchen. "My you're all early today! Anxious to start your vacation, are you?"

Hermione grinned back at Ron's mum. "Oh absolutely!" she said. "I worked through lunch to make sure I was done early."

"You must be starving then! Well, Bill and Fleur are already here, so we're only waiting on Ginny and Percy now since Angelica's grandparents are visiting this weekend so she and George won't be coming. With your help, dinner should be ready in no time."

They let themselves be ushered into the kitchen, walking in just as Mister Weasley was coming in from the garden with a large bundle of herbs. He greeted them jovially and then froze when he saw Hermione, the smile instantly sliding off his face and his eyes widening with dawning horror.

And, just like that, Hermione knew exactly what had happened.

"Hermione," he said in a voice that was half whisper and half pained groan. He placed the herbs onto the kitchen counter as he took a step towards her. "I am so sorry. I'm afraid I completely forgot."

"Forgot what, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking between the two of them

Mister Weasley ran a hand through his hair and took a sighed.

"Hermione found some worrying events described in the field reports she was going over and managed to link them to the Trafalgar Square attack and wrote up a report on them, which her supervisor apparently dismissed out of hand," he explained to his wife. "She brought it to me and I promised her I'd go over it and pass it on to the appropriate department. Unfortunately, I then got busy and the report must've been buried somewhere beneath the mound scrolls on my desk. I mean, I certainly didn't move it so it must still be there..."

"Arthur!"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at Mrs Weasley's reproachful look. It didn't help the situation, but she appreciated the show of support.

"I know, I know, and I am very sorry, Hermione," Mister Weasley said before his wife could continue in her reproach. "I promise I'll look at it first thing Monday morning and then pass it on to Angelique myself."

"Angelique?" Hermione asked with a frown.

Mister Weasley blinked at her. "Oh, sorry, I meant Head Auror Bryant." He looked to his wife apologetically. "We've been working quite closely together on a couple of projects in the past week and so she suggested skipping the formalities."

"You're on first names terms with the new Head Auror?" Mrs Weasley asked, blinking incredulously before frowning. "What in the world could the Auror Department possibly be working on with the Muggle Relations that's so important as to involve the both of you?"

Hermione found herself echoing her frown. She hadn't heard about any major Statute of Secrecy violations come up, which was the only thing she could think of that would bring those two departments heads together.

Mister Weasley hesitated in answering, clearly unsure whether he should be saying anything. Then his eyes slid to Hermione and he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Look, this doesn't leave this room, alright?" he said. They nodded and then he told them about the eight-year-old Muggle girl whose magic had manifested violently due to her abusive father.

Hermione was both horrified and humbled by the time he was finished his, no doubt abbreviated, explanation. Beside her, Ron and Harry both looked furious, and there were tears in Mrs Weasley's eyes.

"Mister Weasley," Hermione cut Ron's father off when he tried to apologize once more. "You made the right decision. That child's situation is horrible and infinitely more important than some report about things that have already happened. Honestly, I'm glad to hear the Head Auror is taking this so seriously."

Harry nodded. "I might not like Bryant much, but I agree," he said. "I just hope you manage to help her."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Being afraid of your own father... that-that must be awful."

Arthur smiled at them gratefully. "Thank you, all of you," he said. "Still, I really will look at your report first thing Monday, Hermione. If it's as worrying as you think it is, it should be brought to someone's attention even if nothing seems to have come of it yet."

"Thank you, Mister Weasley."

"Hey, mum, is this it?" Bill's voice suddenly called out moments before the eldest Weasley boy entered the kitchen. He paused when he noticed the new arrivals and grinned. "Oh, hello you three, you're earlier than usual."

The conversation then turned to more pleasant topics: their upcoming vacation, the beaded necklace charmed to prevent unpleasing odours from reaching their wearer Bill had gotten down from the attic for Fleur, and dinner preparations.

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't get a chance to talk alone again until after dinner. Ginny bid them all goodnight as she left them in the study at 12 Grimmauld Place with a roaring fire and a bottle of wine between them to plan their 'vacation'.

Cassie Fraser stared up at the bright blue sky through the car window and watched the few fluffy white clouds amble by, her mind blank. A dark, murky sky would've probably been more apropos to her mood, but this was... nice. Possibly even poetic.

Her hands were clasped on her lap, if only to give herself something to hold onto, to suppress the urge to fiddle. She almost wished she still had the bouquet of flowers, but she'd left that in the cemetery.

"Cassie," Daniel quietly interrupted the silence that had enveloped them since the moment they'd stepped into the graveyard. "I know we both have to at least put in an appearance at this thing, but if you want to leave early at any point, just let me know and I'll drive you home."

Cassie tore her eyes away from the sky and looked over to her uncle, whose eyes never left the road. In the black suit jacket he'd worn to the cemetery, he looked more sombre than usual. She suddenly realized he probably didn't want to go to the barbeque anymore than she did.

"Thanks, Uncle Daniel," she said with a small smile. "I'll see how the party goes. I'd like to stay at least long enough to see Aunt Sam. And I need to wish little Janet a happy birthday."

Daniel nodded. "Sam said she shouldn't be any later than three." He paused. "It's funny how many people seem to forget little Janet wasn't actually born today, but a few days from now."

Cassie chuckled. "That poor kid's gotta be so confused about it. I wonder how long it's going to take her to ask why she gets an extra birthday party that's not on her actual birthday and always just a little bit sad."

"Hm. Well, she starts school next year, I think, so probably won't take her too much longer to realize this is all kind of weird. At the moment, I think she's just enjoying the extra birthday cake and presents."

"Yeah, probably."

They lapsed into the same, melancholy silence as before and Cassie went back to staring out the window at the beautiful blue sky as the streets of Colorado Springs went by. This time, however, her thoughts were full of flashes and memories of her mother. By the time they arrived at Uncle Jack's house, there were tears in her eyes. She carefully wiped them away as Daniel took off his blazer and threw it over the back seat of his car.

"So, ready?" Daniel asked her when they reached the front door.

She met his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the abrupt mood shift to come. "Sure, let's do this!" she said, putting a bit of extra pep she most certainly wasn't feeling into her voice.

The corners of Daniel's eyes crinkled with amusement as he smiled back at her before ringing the doorbell. Cassie didn't recognize the woman who opened the door for them, but her smile was warm and inviting and Cassie couldn't help but instantly like her.

"Hello, Daniel," she said.

"Hello, Teyla," said Daniel. He then gestured to Cassie. "This is my, and er Sam and Jack's, niece Cassandra Fraiser. Cassie, this is Teyla Emmagen." He turned to Cassie and continued in a low voice: "You two actually have a few things in common. Teyla here's also from, uh, Toronto."

Cassie's eyes widened and she looked at the other woman in surprise. The initial backstory they'd given Cassie had gotten turned into a sort of euphemism between them over the years (which had led to some hilarious misunderstandings a few years ago when Cassie had finally visited the actual Canadian city with a couple university friends).

"Only, obviously not your Toronto," Daniel continued. "More like Montreal... or Vancouver. Or possibly Vladivostok..." He winced. "I'm not sure it works for this very well."

Cassie giggled. "It's okay, Uncle Daniel. I get it."

"I'm glad one of us does," said Teyla, looking both amused and confused at the same time. And wholly resigned to both.

Stepping closer to her, Cassie lowered her voice: "What he means is that I'm not from around here in the same way that you're not from around here, but we're both from different places that aren't around here."

Comprehension dawned on Teyla's face. "Ah, I see." She looked at her shrewdly. "Then I find it interesting that you are able to pretend you are, ah, from around here. I was not aware the SGC supported that sort of integration."

"Not normally," said Daniel. He paused, as though considering his next words. "It's not something we talk about much and Jack and General Hammond buried a lot of the details from that particular mission... Let's just say that she and Ronon also have a few things in common."

"Then I am sorry for your loss, Cassandra Fraiser," Teyla whispered to Cassie after a moment's pause. Her eyes were kind and haunted with her own grief.

"Thank you," Cassie whispered back. "And, please, call me Cassie."

Teyla smiled. "Then I am pleased to meet you, Cassie. I am Teyla. Now, come, we should not be standing out here on the General's doorstep."

Inside, Uncle Jack's house was the same as always, only with more clutter left by guests before they'd all moved outside. He hadn't changed much after moving to Washington – and at least once during every trip to Colorado Springs would talk about possibly selling this house, though as far as Cassie knew it hadn't yet progressed any further than just talk. She was fairly certain he enjoyed hosting barbeques and movie nights whenever he was in town too much to actually go through with it.

Beside her, Daniel sniffed the air. "I see they're already grilling," he said, sounding amused.

Cassie snorted. "Like you were really expecting them to wait for us," she said. Whether it was just Uncle Jack being Uncle Jack or a testament to his years of military service, when he said the steaks went on the grill at thirteen hundred hours, the meat touched the grill at exactly 1:00 pm regardless of who was or was not present.

"I believe Colonel Mitchell threatened to start without him," Teyla commented, sounding equally amused.

Daniel grinned. "You mean he attempted to threaten to start without him."

"What?!" Cassie exclaimed, mock-horrified. "And without us around to watch?"

"I'm sure someone recorded it," Daniel answered with a shrug. "I hear cellphones these days are good for that."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "And I would almost buy the old man routine if not for how you bombed my phone with snapchats after I broke up with Bryan. Which reminds me, I've been meaning to ask how you got Uncle Teal'c to make that face."

Daniel's eyes glittered. "All I can say is that I risked life and limb to get that picture."

"Uh huh."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Cassie saw Teyla shake her head at them in amusement. Then she excused herself to get something out of the fridge.

Though she'd spent several hours last night helping to transform Jack's backyard into the bright-coloured streamer, paper lantern and floral frenzy it currently was, she still couldn't believe just how different it looked, especially with the added sounds and people. The large tables they'd dragged out this morning were laden with food. She recognized her aunt Sam's punch bowl acting as a centrepiece at one of the tables, right next to a giant layered cake topped with three plastic My Little Ponies. She assumed that was the non-alcoholic punch. Sure enough, a quick scan revealed a second punch bowl (this one probably also a loner as it looked too big to be the one Jack owned), sitting on a smaller table within easy sight of the barbeque where Jack was holding court with grilling instruments in one hand and a beer bottle in the other.

Uncle Jack raised an eyebrow and then a spatula in greeting to her and Daniel. Cassie waved back across the crowd. Suddenly a high-pitched squeal caught her attention. She looked towards the sound and grinned at the little girl who was being hoisted high into the air by her father so she could, presumably, pretend to be an airplane – or possibly a bird, it was kind of difficult to tell from this angle.

She turned to Daniel. "Hey, I'll catch up to you in a bit," she told him.

"Yeah, sure," Daniel replied and then began to wander off towards Jack's group.

Cassie, meanwhile, walked up to the little girl and her father, clutching the small brightly-wrapped package in her right hand. The father saw her as she neared and smiled at her, placing the little girl back down on the ground and then pointing towards Cassie when she protested. The little girl turned to look at Cassie and her face instantly lit up into a blinding smile.

"Hey Janet," said Cassie as she knelled down to the six-year-old's height and grinned back at her. "Happy birthday!"

"Cassie!" little Janet barely got out before launching herself at Cassie and encircling as much of her as she could with arms and hands that weren't quite so stubby anymore. "You're here!"

Cassie laughed. "Of course I'm here," she said. She was always amazed just how the little girl acted as though Cassie showing up was the highlight of her day. It made her squeeze the child just a little tighter.

Yes, one day little Janet would come to realize that her growing up with a father was largely because Cassie had lost her mother, but Cassie wouldn't be the one to tell her. It wasn't a burden this little girl needed to carry.

After a few moments, Janet pulled away, her body already vibrating with more energy desperately in need of an outlet. Before she could run off to play with the other children Cassie could see gravitating towards them out of the corner of her eyes, Cassie handed her the package in her hand.

"Here, I brought you a present," she said.

"Oh wow, thank you!" said Janet, her eyes widening at the giant purple bow that easily eclipsed the package itself as she accepted it.

That was when her father stepped in behind her. "Did you want me to take that, honey, so you can go play with your friends?" he asked. At her indecisive look, he added: "I promise to add it to your pile so you can open it after cake."

That seemed to be an acceptable arrangement and Janet handed the present over before quickly saying bye to Cassie and running off to join the other children.

Cassie shook her head in amusement as she stood. "I can't believe just how big these parties have gotten over the years," she said. "I mean, the first year Janet was the only kid and now there's half a dozen of them."

"Actually, there are also some older kids in the far corner over there," said the dad, pointing towards a back corner. "Probably commiserating over how embarrassing their parents are."

Cassie giggled. "Or trying to figure out how to get around guard dog O'Neill to get to the alcoholic punch."

"Hm, or that."

His wife joined them a few moments later, having returned from her round-about quest for punch (the alcoholic kind) which had been detoured by no less than four separate conversations. Cassie remained for a little while longer, chatting idly with the couple and remarking on just how large the parties were getting. The first year Jack had hosted this combined memorial and birthday party, there had been a few SG teams, a smattering of hospital staff and a few of the engineers. Now it seemed half the base had shown up along with their families.

After a while, Cassie left them and went to find her Uncle Daniel. She still wasn't sure how long she wanted to remain at the party for, but she no longer felt like leaving immediately. Maybe she'd wait for cake. At the very least she could make sure Daniel ate and relaxed. She wasn't sure just what they working on at the Mountain, but Jack had made a point of mentioning it was important and Daniel had thrust himself right into the middle of the issue.

The hint had been about as subtle as a two hundred pound dancing Jaffa in a pink sparkly tutu, however it did get the point across. A Daniel Jackson on a mission was a Daniel Jackson that subsided on gallons of coffee and the occasional powerbar, unless someone dragged him away to get actual food.

She finally found her uncle talking to three marines and their wives. He had a beer in his hand and an expression on his face that seemed to be hovering somewhere half-way between awkward and embarrassed, and pleased. If the glowing faces of the marines were any indication, Cassie guessed they were singing Daniel's praises to their wives, who were listening on with varying degrees of attention.

As she approached, she couldn't help notice the way Daniel kept stealing glances at one of the wives. Cassie didn't entirely blame him; the woman was beautiful with her dark mocha skin, full lips and lush raven hair. She was a Hollywood red carpet glamorous that had Cassie wishing she'd put just a little more effort into her own hair and make-up this morning. She took a deep breath and dismissed the thought, reminding herself that the two women she admired most in the world hadn't ever needed to be glamorous to be amazing.

"Hey, Uncle Daniel," she said brightly as she sidled up to Daniel.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the mocha-skinned woman stiffen, which she thought was odd in the same moment as she realized it was sort of weird of Daniel to be stealing glances at a woman like he was. Unless... maybe she looked like Sha're? Cassie had never seen a picture of Daniel's wife, but she'd been told she had been very beautiful.

Daniel turned to her and put an arm around her, pulling her into a half-hug. "Oh, hey Cassie," he said casually. "How are Janet and her parents doing?"

Cassie leaned into his comforting presence, feeling the tension that had surrounded her while talking to the man who was the reason her mother was dead – she knew it wasn't fair, but a malicious part of her couldn't help herself – dissipate. Of all people, she knew her uncle understood the emotional turmoil best, but at least Teal'c had been Daniel's friend and teammate before he'd been forced to kill his wife. Cassie really barely knew Janet's family, only saw them about twice a year.

"Janet's grown again," Cassie answered. "She looks happy. Did you see the birthday cake?"

"With the ponies? It's, uh, very pink."

Cassie giggled.

"You've obviously never had little girls," said one of the wives with a soft smile. She was blonde with short curly hair and looked like she might've been a former marine herself with her confident stance and straight-backed posture.

"Cassie liked purple," said Daniel with a shrug. "And brown for some reason."

"Chocolate's brown," said Cassie. She remembered wondering why everyone thought it was strange that she liked the colour brown.

"Sound reasoning to me," said one of the marines with a wide grin. "I have it on good authority that pink monstrosity is layered strawberry and chocolate cake."

"Strawberry and chocolate?" said Daniel. "I can live with that. By the way, this is my niece, Cassandra Fraiser."

"You're Doc Fraiser's kid," said another marine softly. He looked like he might've been the eldest of the three, but it was difficult to tell with his slight frame and distinctly Asian features. He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Captain Andrew Huong. I'm sorry for your loss, Cassandra. Your mother was a great woman."

"Thank you, Captain," she said as she shook his hand, relieved to find her voice wasn't shaking nearly as much as she felt it should be. "Did you know her?"

He nodded. "Yes. The other two here only transferred into the Mountain two years ago, but I've been at the project long enough to have been patched up by her a few times."

Daniel then introduced the other marines and their wives to her. The beautiful, mocha-skinned woman was Peitha, wife of Sergeant Tyler Ainsley, a man who was built like, well, a marine and had a really, really nice smile (had Cassie ever thought to wonder what a gorgeous woman like Peitha was doing with a marine, that smile would've answered her question). Cassie made a note of their names so she could ask Daniel about the wife later.

It didn't take much effort after that to drag Daniel towards the barbeque and food. In fact, Daniel himself was practically dragging her away himself after the marines got started on what was mostly likely yet another retelling of how Daniel's skills had rescued them from the clutches of an evil Arab warlord – who might very well have been a warlord, but Cassie doubted very much had been Arabic... not that she could tell them that.

Not being able to let people who knew about the Stargate that she, too, knew about it never stopped feeling strange.

Uncle Jack put down his beer so that he could hug her in greeting. "Hey there, kiddo," he said as she breathed in the familiar scent of his aftershave and squeezed just a little tighter than usual despite having seen him this morning. "How'd it go?"

Cassie stepped back with a sad smile. "About as well as it always does," she answered and then paused. "It gets a little easier every year, but..."

Jack nodded knowingly. "But you're never quite ready for how it hits you."

"No, I'm not."

His eyes met hers. "Well, if you need a moment, the guest bedroom upstairs isn't being used for anything."

"Thanks, Uncle Jack, but I think I'll be okay." She looked over her shoulder to where Daniel was waiting with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. "Uncle Daniel's already offered to take me home whenever it gets to be too much."

She took a deep breath and then raised an eyebrow up at her uncle. "Also, I think I was promised the biggest, juiciest burger ever for all my help this morning."

Jack blinked before his face broke into a wide grin. "And so you were! You and Daniel grab yourselves some plates and I'll get you those burgers."

Cassie was really starting to feel the strain of keeping up a cheery mood when her aunt finally showed up, Uncle Murray and several others in tow whom Teyla immediately went over to greet while Vala ran off to throw herself at Daniel.

"Hey Cassie," said Sam as she embraced her. "Sorry we're a bit later than planned. The simulations took longer than I'd thought they would." She grimaced. "One of our, uh, adjacent projects has a major review coming up next week and, well, it's in all our interests to make sure they do well."

A man coming behind her snorted. He was relatively tall with balding hair and broad shoulders, but the look of a scientist instead of a soldier. "How well we do won't depend on us, but on the idiots doing the evaluating and just how much they want to cut our funding," he said dryly and with more than a little bitterness.

"But you have accomplished a great many things, have you not?" said Teyla with a frown. "Surely your government cannot ignore that."

"Of course we've accomplished a lot!" the man snapped. "Hell, what we've discovered and created is nothing short of amazing! Saving the world aside, we could revolutionize the world's, well, everything if it wasn't all classified. It's not what we've done they're going to fight us on, since unless they're complete morons, which wouldn't actually surprise me given that we're dealing with government bureaucrats here, but I'm going to remain cautiously optimistic on that one for now... No, what they'll be concentrating on is what we can do in the future. And, trust me, if those morons think they can cut corners or suggest that we can't do what we want to do because of 'budgetary constraints', then they will!"

Teyla's frown had deepened now. "I thought that was why we were appealing to the IOA."

The man opened his mouth to reply.

"It's not quite as simple as that, Teyla," another man answered her, his tone much more relaxed. He wasn't quite drawling the words, but it sounded like it was close. He held himself with a sort of relaxed wariness that reminded her of Jack, but his hair looked like it was defying regulations just as much as it was defying gravity. "Unfortunately, Rodney's probably right. It won't matter what we've accomplished if we can't justify the money for what we'll be doing in the future. And the US government funds a huge chunk of our expe– uh, project with both money and personnel."

"Hey, hey, what's this I hear?"

Cassie jumped in surprise as Uncle Jack's voice called out from behind her. She turned to him.

"I thought I made the rules clear," her uncle continued, his voice a relaxed drawl, but there was a glare in his eyes that looked decidedly unimpressed. "No shop talk in the yard. Or in the house. Now go grab yourselves a beer and a burger and ixnay the project-related chatternay. Or you can grab a hotdog. That works too. Just save some room for cake. It's a very character-building pink. With ponies. I'm told they're all the rage this year."

Cassie couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.

"Sorry, sir," said Aunt Sam, looking sheepish.

Meanwhile, the man with gravity-defying hair was looking over the crowd towards the tables in the back. "Wow," he said idly. "That is really pink cake."

The other man (Cassie she'd heard him called Rodney) rolled his eyes. "Who cares what colour it is: it's cake," he said. "The important question is does it have citrus in it?"

"I don't know, MacKay," Jack drawled. "But there's an ingredients list on the box it arrived in. It's in the kitchen."

MacKay grumbled a few words as he hurried back into the house.

Cassie wondered what project these newcomers were attached to even as she stepped around Aunt Sam to greet Teal'c.

"Cassandra Fraiser, it is good to see you again," Teal'c said even before she'd gotten a single word out.

She grinned up at him. "You too, uh, Uncle Murray," she replied. "Daniel says you've been really busy lately, so I'm glad you could come."

"This event commemorates your mother and I would not miss any event that shows respect to Janet Fraiser unless my will was not under my control," said Teal'c solemnly. "She was a great woman."

"The best," Cassie agreed with a watery smile. She swallowed down her grief. "So, you wanna get burgers?"

Teal'c inclined his head in agreement and, just as solemnly, said: "It is the other reason I am here."

Cassie's smile became more genuine.

Draco sipped his tea, breathing in the calming scent of berries and hibiscus, his mother's favourite, as he watched the fire dancing merrily in the study's black marble fireplace and waited.

Against his back he felt the comforting feel of soft calf leather, the rather sizable chair much more comfortable than the hard, high-backed heirlooms it had replaced. The new chairs were his first and only addition to the study after taking over his family's affairs. They made him feel slightly less like an intruder inside what had once been exclusively his father's space. Most days Draco still expected his father to storm through the doors and angrily demand what he was doing playing around in here.

His father, however, hadn't stepped foot anywhere near the study, not since his trial and sentencing. His father never really ventured much of anywhere anymore, mostly alternating between the dining room, bedroom, and occasionally haunting the library and the corridors of the east wing.

Draco took a deep breath and then another sip of tea, forcibly turning his thoughts to less depressing things. The floo call he was waiting for wouldn't benefit in the slightest from anything less than an optimistic attitude. And so, instead, he remembered the look on Astoria's face when he'd presented her with the engagement ring and begged her not to say no just because of her condition. In the box the ring had looked beautiful. On her finger, it was a work of art.

There was a smile on his face when green flames finally burst out from the study's fireplace. He immediately wiped the smile off his face, clearing his throat as he took on a more professional demeanour – being positive was one thing, greeting a business contact with a loony smile entirely another.

"H-hello, is this the Malfoy residence?" a voice called from the fireplace, the green head floating in it fizzling slightly the way incoming international floo calls often did.

Draco set his tea cup down on the side table before standing and walking over to grab a large handful of floo powder. He threw it into the fireplace to accept the call. Thankfully, once the call had been accepted, the projected green head stabilized into a clearer image. Then he knelt in front of the fireplace himself and thrust his head into the flames.

"Hello, Arnold," he greeted the Chicago wizard cordially. "It's good to see you again."

"Oh, hey Draco!" Arnold Fullman said with a smile. "Uh, it's good to see you too. Now, you'll be happy to hear that Mark's managed to tweak the ignition mixture in the Haflcons again to produce a more consistent layer of smaller flames. Also, Veronica, who I don't think you actually met when you were here, came up with the idea of adding grip charms to the bottom of the outer casing."

Draco blinked at the sudden barrage of information, not having expected the other man to jump directly into business. Although, with the unpredictability that often plagued these international floo calls, he supposed it was a smart move on his part. And he couldn't deny that putting grip charms – presumably of the sort that were used on broomsticks – on a hand-held device seemed like a good idea.

"You should save it for a delux model," he said thoughtfully. "Start off with the basic model at a lower price, let the more adventurous people try it out and then a few months later we can come out with a more expensive model with extra features. By that point word will have gotten around and more people will be willing to spend the larger amount."

Beneath his bushy eyebrows, Arnold's eyes were already sparkling with excitement. "That's exactly what we were thinking, Draco. Veronica is already working on figuring out more extra features to add to this thing. She'd appreciate any ideas you can think of..."

Draco nodded. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, I've managed to secure a meeting with someone from the Department of Communications for later this week. The application for a new Floo Operations licence has been filled out in triplicate. I sent it to you by owl about an hour ago so you should have it by morning to go over and sign. Let me know if there are any errors."

"Absolutely. I have to say, I hadn't actually expected you to move this quickly."

Draco snorted. "Don't worry, the next step is getting Ministry approval. That won't go nearly as quickly, not with the Malfoy name carrying the significant tarnish that it is, as you oh so helpfully kept reminding me when I was in Chicago."

Arnold only barely managed to suppress his wince at the reminder. "Yeah, well, at least you haven't been attacked by any random crazy former nomag scientists?"

"No, thankfully, that pleasure did not follow me back to England."

Suddenly, Arnold's face jumped slightly as though startled. He frowned and looked behind him. "Hang on, Draco," he said and then pulled back and turned his head so that only half his face remained in the flames. His voice, when he called out to whoever had interrupted him, sounded much farther away. "Yes, of course I told him." There was a long pause and then Arnold rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not telling him about that. Don't be ridiculou-aack. Hey!"

Draco watched with amusement as Arnold was pushed even further back out of the fireplace and a second head appeared from the right, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Hello, Mark," said Draco dryly, amused despite himself. Arnold's partner and the man who was the creative mind behind the hand-held floo connectors was an amusing plump little man with chocolate brown skin and almost no hair except for a moustache that looked like it could detach and crawl away all on its own. "I hear you've managed to figure out the flame consistency problem."

"Oh, he told you about it," said Mark, his face falling slightly.

"I just told you I had!" Arnold snapped as he pushed his way back into the fire, shoving Mark a bit to the side with a glare.

Mark gamely moved over a bit to allow Arnold to fully re-enter the flames, but completely ignored the glare being levelled his way.

"Anyway, Arnold told me about that nomag you bumped into," he said, paying no attention to Arnold's pained groan, his eyes once again sparkling with excitement. "You're not the first it's happened to, you know. There've been other wizards who've gotten attacked by nomags who've seen past their disillusionment charms and none of them seemed entirely sane and they couldn't remember anything about how they knew to recognize them."

He paused for dramatic effect and his voice was a loud whisper when he continued: "They say the Council once employed a group of nomag scientists to conduct research for them. Some say there's proof that magic is disappearing, but the Council's desperate to keep it quiet, which is why they had to get nomags. But then apparently something horrible happened and the Council had to disband the scientists and erased their memories. Except that not even the most powerful memory charms could completely erase the trauma they'd suffered..."

Draco blinked. "The MACUSA did this?" he asked.

Mark frowned. "No, the International Council of Wizards."

"Oh my God, you're actually taking him seriously," Arnold interrupted Draco's dawning horror. "Please don't encourage him or we'll all be hearing nothing but ridiculous conspiracy theories for the rest of the day."

Now it was Mark's turn to glare at his partner. "Except that this one's true! My sister-in-law's cousin's partner used to work as an aide for the Office of the US Representative and she definitely saw proof of nomag scientists being contracted to do research for the ICW."

"You keep saying that and yet I haven't ever actually seen this proof and neither has anyone else! Also, I'm fairly certain I've heard you mention at least five other theories as to what the supposed nomag scientists were doing for the ICW."

"Well, that's because no one knows for certain what they were researching! Just because I don't have absolute proof in front of me right now doesn't mean the proof doesn't actually exist!"

"Right. And aliens crash-landed in Roswell."

"Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows that was an escaped dragon. The aliens landed in Salt Lake City."

"Of course they did. And there is tangible proof of this is there? Someone took pictures, I assume?"

"Well, yes, I assume they did."

Draco rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help feeling relief that there weren't actually any Muggles experimenting on magic. Or researching it. He wasn't even sure why exactly the idea worried him – it wasn't like Muggles would ever be able to understand magic, but there was still something fundamentally wrong with idea of mixing Muggle science with magic.

After letting them argue for a few more minutes, Draco cleared his throat. "So, in preparation for my meeting with the Department of Communications later this week, I was hoping we could go over how exactly you were planning to integrate your handheld connectors into the existing floo network. I'd like to go in as prepared as possible."

"Oh, of course, Draco," said Arnold after only a slight pause to get himself back on track. "Good idea. Mark, I'll let you take this."

Mark nodded and then immediately launched into an explanation Draco was dismayed to realize was probably going to take him several go-rounds to fully understand. With a sigh, he summoned some parchment and a quill to him and prepared to take notes.

"Welcome to the United States," said the heavy-set redheaded witch as she handed Ron back his wand.

"Thanks," he said and quickly pocketed his wand before hurrying away towards Luggage Retrieval to meet up with Harry and Hermione. As he was walking away, he heard the witch asking the next person in line the same set of questions she'd just asked him.

It took Ron a little while to locate his friends inside the busy portkey hub. It didn't help that he kept gawking at the scenery like the tourist he was. The New York Hub was the second largest hub in the United States and, according to Hermione, the fifth largest in the world... unless one counted the Beijing hub, which apparently most people didn't because it was actually three separate hubs built close together. (There was a reason as to why the Chinese wizarding community had built three smaller hubs instead of one very large one, but Ron had tuned Hermione's explanation out at that point and so had no idea what it was.)

This wasn't Ron's first trip by international portkey, but the portkey hub in London was mostly an extension of the Ministry of Magic and designed in a similar style and the Romanian hub was much smaller and even more minimalist. The New York Portkey Hub, on the other hand, was a large, high-ceilinged structure – though the ceiling itself was only barely visible behind the pale blue haze of charmed sky with fluffy white clouds beneath which flew a mirad of birds, griffins and other winged creatures. Most notably, Ron saw a giant bald eagle soaring among the charmed clouds, its features sharper and more tangible-looking than any of the other creatures.

He finally looked away after the eagle disappeared behind a cluster of clouds, just in time to avoid running into a large marble pillar. Just as he was about to side-step it, he noticed the symbol carved into its side and paused. He scanned the large, homogeneous layout of the hub before he took his wand out and tapped the symbol.

"Luggage Retrieval," he said loudly. "For international travellers from England."

The symbol began to glow faintly orange. Ron stepped backwards as a translucent pale orange hand came out of the pillar. It gave him a quick thumbs up and then pointed towards a corridor just to the left of where he'd actually been headed.

Glad to know he wouldn't be wandering aimlessly, Ron set out in the right direction. It felt a bit unsettling to hear his footfalls as he walked across the stone tiled floor – the Ministry of Magic liked to cast muffling charms on their floors where they didn't have carpeting. However, he had to admit the dark grey stone flooring somehow seemed to fit the hub's layout, allowing the bright colours of the round eagle and flag symbol of the MACUSA painted over them to really stand out.

He found Harry and Hermione easily enough despite the crowd – there was considerably less movement in Luggage Retrieval as most people in the area not wearing the royal blue half-cloaks of hub employees were simply standing around waiting.

"Oh, hey, that was quick," Harry told him with surprise. "We only just got here."

Hermione scowled. "The witch in customs gave us absolutely rubbish directions," she said. "Sent us both to the completely wrong corner of the station. I found Harry and then it took us another ten minutes to figure out we were nowhere near where we were supposed to be!"

"Yeah, she gave me the same directions," said Ron. "I asked one of the point me charms to be sure."

Hermione's eyes widened comically. "I read that there were supposed to be plenty of those all over the New York Portkey Hub, but I couldn't find any anywhere!"

Ron shrugged. "I found one easily enough," he said and then bit the side of his cheek to keep from grinning as his girlfriend visibly ground her teeth together in silent irritation.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry suppressing a grin of his own. Just before losing his grip on his smile, however, Harry cleared his throat.

"Right, so are going to go straight to the hotel after collecting our luggage?" he asked.

"Of course," Hermione answered him. "It's not far from here, anyway, so there's no point in not checking in first. Get that over with. We'll need to move quickly if we're going to take nearly a week's worth of pictures in less than two days."

"Not to mention getting souvenirs," Ron added.

"Yes, that too." Hermione became thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, we could get ourselves matching 'I heart New York' t-shirts that I seem to recall being ridiculously popular and wear those when we go to, I don't know, maybe the Statue of Liberty or something."

"So we're wearing something noticeably different in at least some of the pictures, you mean," Harry added with a nod.

"Good idea," Ron agreed.

"Well, if everything goes well, then we should only need about three days tops in Colorado," Harry pointed out.

Ron snorted. "You mean you were expecting to actually enjoy yourself on your vacation?"

Harry grinned. Then something seemed to catch his eye and his face lit up further. "Hang on, I think they're releasing our luggage."

They all turned to see that, sure enough, the large doors along the wall had opened and MACUSA customs wizards were floating cleared luggage out ahead of them.

"About bloody time!" Hermione groused, though her demeanour had visibly relaxed as it was now clear that her ruse had worked and neither the polyjuice she was carrying, nor Harry's invisibility cloak had been discovered.

As they later exited the New York Portkey Hub, Ron looked up at the sky. Dwarfed by the towering forms of Muggle skyscrapers, the white clouds seemed so very far above them and, for a moment, he felt impossibly small and inconsequential.

And then someone bumped his shoulder and he tore his eyes away from the bright blue, cloud-covered expanse and down to Harry's bright green eyes.

His friend's eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Well, I guess this is the beginning of our next adventure," he said.

Ron grinned, his doubts and nerves momentarily forgotten. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she barrelled past both of them. They laughed as they set off after her.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed this! I know, not the most exciting chapter ever, but I'd like to think there are some hints as to how a few of these story lines I've been juggling are going to come together and influence each other.