For those who don't know, and care, today is the 50th anniversary of the Doctor Who Series, and a world wide broadcast of the 50th anniversary episode at 2:30 Eastern time US.

In other news I have been paying attention to your comments and thank you for them.

Someone asked about my schedule of posting in a PM so I thought I would tell everyone here, it is every two weeks for both of my stories.

As always edited by the mighty pazed!

Read! Enjoy! And Review!

Chapter 22

Tannim watched as Harry made his way toward the car. His shoulders were hunched forward and he walked with a clipped gait, his head down and cap pulled so it was shading his face. "Damn it! That Dix is such an ass."

The door swung open and Harry dropped into the seat next to him. "So… Dix…" he said as he shifted into first and rolled onto the street.

"Yeah…" He settled back into the seat and clicked the seat belt closed. "Dix."

"We'll deal with him. He didn't need to do something that…" He sighed. "I'm proud of you Harry," he said elbowing the young man lightly. "He was trying to get you to do something stupid, and you held your temper. I know it wasn't easy."

"If I had blown up he would have had something else to use," Harry said, staring out the side window.

"Yes, and you handled it exactly right," Tannim replied.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. "He knows about Fairgrove… Dix, I mean."

Harry's head snapped toward him. "He was part of a group caught in the crossfire between the Sidhe, his family was killed. He was about fifteen then… After it was over Keighvin did his best to try to help him, but Dix fought him at every turn."

He paused and gathered his thoughts. "He ended up in the hospital a few months later because he was ranting about elves and magic. He spent six months under the best care Keighvin could find, to help him deal with his loss. He finally realized no one was going to listen to his rants and stayed quiet about it, he was released soon after. Keighvin pulled a few strings and had the incident reclassified as an extended illness, but he still holds a grudge."

Tannim shrugged, and continued the story. "He believes we are killers, using magic to cover it all up, and will never trust anyone that deals with Fairgrove. When he was named the new principal your mother and I talked with Keighvin… We hoped that something like this would not happen… We figured he would be strict, especially with your scheduling, but not petty."

Tannim merged with the traffic on the interstate, as Harry listened. "We thought about private schooling and home school, but Keighvin thought you could be a kind of olive branch… show that we held no ill will… and live by the same rules."

Harry thought he saw what Keighvin had wanted, but was kind of angry he wasn't told about it at the same time. Tannim continued, "He has argued against your schedule from the first day he found out you were part of Fairgrove. Everything from non-participation and the 'school experience', to your testing and comprehension."

"Then why am I still there?" Harry asked.

"Obstinance… Specifically your mother… She hates to lose. When he came to us privately about Fairgrove, to try and convince us of the type of people involved with Fairgrove and the danger you were in working there, he made her angry. She reached a breaking point when he said something about the 'creatures that run the place', and questioned our parenting for both being involved with 'people like that' and putting 'that type' of pressure on you when you are just a child. From that point on she was steadfast in you staying in that school, and doing well."

Harry nodded at his father, that was Shar 100%, as he downshifted and slid through traffic. "Then this thing happened in England… I don't know what we are going to do, but your mother, grandmother, and Keighvin are working on it." He slapped his hand on Harry's leg. "Try not to think about it. Our part of this is to get you focused on setting up the cars and getting ready for the weekend."

"So business as usual?" He watched his father's expression closely.

"Yeah. So get that game face on, and your head straight…" He reached behind the seat and pulled a random CD from the box. "Sirius will be there, in the VIP area, Deek offered to teach him about racing." He slipped the CD into the slot and the sound of a guitar filled the Mustang.

Satisfied, Harry sank back into the seat, his eyes closing, as the guitar sound thrummed rhythmically, the music of The Zoo's Shakin' the Cage and the car's vibration helping him settle into his meditation.

Sirius looked down from the press box, he could see both of Harry's cars sitting in the stalls of the garage across the access road. He glanced at Deek as the elf handed him a drink… He still couldn't get over that… He had met ELVES! "Why can't we go down there?"

"See'n as you're family, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. It's to keep you out of the way." He smiled as the man turned on him and he held up a hand. "Really," He pointed down at the cars. "They've got a ton of work to do, and not much time. They want Harry to put as many laps on them as he can, and when he is in the pits he'll need to have his mind on the changes they need to make and the notes the pit boss has. Any distractions could mean problems."

Sirius was a little stunned. "Is it that difficult?"

"Sirius," he said as he stood, "Those cars are more finicky than any woman! And just as easy to piss off! There are tons of things a good team can do to make it run smoother, faster, and handle better, the problem is every adjustment you make changes everything else."

He put his hand on the glass in front of him and leaned forward, "Camber of the tires, the angle they connect with the road surface, shocks, springs, weight distribution, air pressure, shock pressure, track bar, breaks, spoilers, air dam… Thousands of adjustments, hell you can even adjust the ride height. It is an ever expanding puzzle, and it doesn't stop there. When you get to the race you need to make more adjustments, because it will need to be set up to deal with temperature, track surface temperature and conditions... is it overcast? Sunny? Has it rained? It is endless..."

He looked back at Sirius. "It even goes on during the race. Harry will tell them how it is handling on the radio and his pit boss will make a call on how to do some quick adjustments when he comes in for fuel and tires." He shrugged and turned around. "All they are doing now is trying to get him comfortable in the new cars, some experience with them, and getting the set up 'in the ball park'… Someplace in the direction that they want, something they can work with when they get to the track."

"They have notes on everything… the track, the cars, the old cars, Harry's driving style, even the weather. In the end it is an educated guess, but be that as it may this step is as crucial as any of them."

"I-I had no idea." He stepped forward and looked down at the people buzzing around the pair of cars. "H-he understands all of that?"

Deek snickered. "That kid was born to be behind the wheel. He was making his first racer, his go-cart… the one hanging in the garage… He had that thing making record laps by the end of his first year. Tannim supervised and helped when he was stuck or had problems and helped on race day, but most of it Harry did himself!"

"When he moved to SERRA Class 1, that little buggy looking car in the front room, he insisted on learning it too. He did the same thing for SERRA, and then SERRA Unlimited. He has a hand in a lot of the decisions, not the final word but he does get listened to."

"Does he spend much time with kids his own age?" Sirius asked.

Deek sighed. "He's different… He doesn't get along the best with a lot of kids, not even some of the ones that pass through Fairgrove." He shook his head. "He is much more focused than a lot of kids. He has his music, he and some of the younger guys on the circuit have a kind of band, and they play at the tracks in the evenings. The racing of course, his training with Lady Ako... Then what he learns about magic. His life is busy, and he loves every minute."

"What about friends?" Sirius asked.

"He has them, and spends time with them in the off season. After this weekend he will be in the off season till late April, he'll hit the tracks a few times in the off season but he is home most weekends, say three out of four."

"What kind of magic is he learning?" He hadn't had a chance to speak with anyone and was curious.

"More like what isn't he learning," said Deek. "He is something special, no doubt about that. I've taught him a few things myself... then again so have Lady Ako, Tannim, Thomas, Chinthliss... even Keighvin."

"But what kind of magic… I mean he doesn't seem to use a wand."

"No, he has no need. Well, let's see." He sat on the desk. "Some light offensive stuff, more defense though. Shields of course, and some healing… A lot of the more subtle stuff, most of that came from FX though. As for what Thomas and his brother, Chinthliss or Tannim have taught him I have no idea... but I do know Tannim has started teaching him a few tricks, they are a little tight lipped about how they do things, and with this crap in England they are moving up the timetable on a few other things."

"FX… I don't think I met him."

"No, he's one of Lady Ako's people, a kitsune, he stayed in England to keep an eye on things at Hogwarts. He'll report back when he can."

"I-I thought that only Shar and Lady Ako went to Hogwarts," Sirius stammered.

"Nope, he got there the night before they arrived. He enjoyed the stories about your Marauders by the way, he plans on petitioning for entry when he gets back."

Sirius looked stunned for a moment. "He was… I didn't…. How?"

"He is kitsune, a Japanese Fox Spirit, they are adept at that sort of thing, and he is much better than most, even if he is as nutty as a fruitcake. He is like a brother to Harry, and we need to know the lay of the land, as it were. Besides he said something about some poltergeist that needed to learn what pranking really means, god help you all."

Albus sat behind his desk, head lying on the pile of paperwork and his glasses forgotten next to him, he was exhausted. He groaned when the clock chimed three, 'Merlin' he thought, 'three in the morning. And I am still not half done.'

Today had put the old man through the wringer. It had started early, before breakfast even, when he and the other senior staff had entered an empty Great Hall. Mornings normally found the room quite lively as the senior staff entered after their morning meeting; they quickly decided that this conundrum needed to be looked into.

They soon found that each Dorm entrance was sealed closed, and their guardian portraits stood empty, the students trapped inside. It had taken most of the morning to find the magically painted guardians, each was found trapped in a different portrait tied up with a newly painted red ribbon, a big bow on their head. Each guardian had been placed far back in different landscape paintings, ones with different castles, where their cries could not be easily heard. It was the first time that Albus had been glad that Fredric had included those hounds of his in his portrait, otherwise it could have taken days to find them.

Then he had used every spare moment of the day - at least those not spent teaching the History of Magic class, and dodging the steady stream of howlers (Merlin did he hate those magical screaming notes), sent because of the articles that Skeeter woman wrote, or dodging the floo calls from not only angry parents but angry members of the Wizengamot - looking into the disappearance of Professor Binns. He had found nothing, the ghost was just simply gone! None of the others had seen him, ghost or not.

He pulled his head up off the desk, paper sticking to his face. He tugged the pages away and rubbed his face then felt around for his glasses. Placing them back on his face he went back to the large stack still standing on his desk. 'Let's see," he thought, 'requisition for food stuffs for the…' he checked the calendar, 'second week of December.' He looked over the menu and list from the kitchen staff, before signing his name and putting it in the completed pile. He grumbled under his breath, this was the type of thing Minerva normally handled in his stead because of his hectic schedule. Evidently that was no longer the case after her rant yesterday. Didn't she know his time was more valuable than this! He had so many things that needed to be done, and after the problems with the Potter boy he was so far behind!

As the clock struck four he had just finished the Hogwarts pile, it had been a nightmare. Missing potion stores from Severus's class, several complaints against Alastor because of his demeanor (he was abrasive Albus had to admit, but he was one of the best Aurors of his day, not his own level of course but still quite good). Madame Hooch had requested new brooms for her students (what did she think? He could just go out and dig up more gold? Those brooms were fine for him to learn on so they were fine for the current students! Besides that money could be used for other more important things!)… it just went on and on.

The next pile was things from the Ministry; he rubbed his eyes wearily before he began. After the third page he began digging through them furiously, and laying them out side by side. Sweat had begun to form on his brow and that pain was back in his left arm by the time he had laid out the last page. Over two dozen businesses were losing their buildings due to the owner wishing to sell, the same with another five properties that usually rented a number of flats to young wizards and witches just out of school, less expensive housing as they got started. But the most troubling were the ones on his left, the several homes and the land worked by wizards that produced the majority of the food stuffs their people ate, or the materials they used.

Each page was like a physical blow to the man, each new name a blow to his dream of a safe peaceful wizarding world. The owner of these properties had made it clear to his tenants, you have thirty days to put in place financing to secure ownership of said property at a price 10% below appraised value or it will be offered up for general sale. If the property was not sold in six months it would be offered to the muggle market! That could not be allowed! It was painfully obvious who the seller was when you reached the last two remaining pages. Two cottages in the small town of Godric's Hollow. Albus crumpled the page in his hand… 'Oh, Merlin! Please…No... Harry... No...' was his only thought, as he collapsed into his chair.