[A/N: Everybody, strap in. It's going to be a bumpy ride. As always, thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter.]

The grandfather clock in the sitting room was still striking 5:00 when Harry's floo turned green and a blonde witch came hurtling out of it and right into Harry's arms. "It's good to see you, Luna," he said as he lifted her up and put her on her feet.

"It's good to see you, too," Luna said. "I like coming over here much better when you're here to catch me."

Hermione, who was holding Harry's firewhiskey for him as well as a barely alcoholic limoncello cocktail of her own, frowned and looked thoughtfully at Luna. "That's a blow to my theory about Purebloods having stronger inner ears, then," she said.

"Not at all," Luna said as a broad-shouldered, swarthy man with short, curly hair stepped out of the floo. "I can travel nearly as well as Rolf here, but I much prefer spinning and tumbling around. It's like a muggle amusement park ride that takes me to see my friends."

Hermione blinked and took a sip of her cocktail.

Rolf laughed and kissed Luna's forehead. "I've never heard the floo described like that before, but now I don't think I can think of it any other way." He shook Harry's hand and turned to Hermione. "I'm honoured to finally meet you in person, Miss Granger. Luna told me about your situation and your determination does you great credit. I understand that you're not going to try for an O.W.L. in Care for Magical Creatures, but if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

"Thank you, Mr. Scamander," Hermione replied. "Please call me Hermione. Your wife has been a tremendous help since I met her and even Headmistress McGonagall commented on how much my Transfiguration has improved."

"Rolf, please," Rolf said. "And I'm not surprised. Luna is an exceptionally talented witch."

The floo flared green again and Nev stepped out. "Hello!" he said as he dusted himself off a bit before turning and offering a hand to Sue as she came through.

"Thank you for inviting us," Sue said. "This is—"

Luna lunged at the larger woman and pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Sue, I'm so happy you listened to Hermione. I was worried about you." She reached out and pulled Nev into the hug, too.

Sue and Nev hugged her back. "Thanks, Luna," Sue said. "Even if the two of you are going to be insufferable now, I still thank you."

"Insufferable?" Hermione asked.

Nev looked down at the floor. "Um…even though she's feeling a bit better now, Sue and I decided she would stay at Longbottom Manor indefinitely."

"I have no need to be insufferable about that," Hermione said, raising her nose into the air and speaking extra-poshly. "Should I be insufferable about predicting the sunrise tomorrow or that the twin inevitabilities of death and taxes will come for us all?"

"And she's modest, too," Harry deadpanned, and everyone burst out laughing.

Dobby popped up into the middle of the room, quieting the laughter. "Great Harry Potter sir's guests should be coming downstairs to the dining room now," he said. "First course is plated and ready."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"You's welcome." The elf rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Dobby is going to be exhausted tonight!" he said, and disappeared again.

Rolf scratched his head and stared at the empty space where Dobby had been. "I am deeply conflicted about this," he said.

"Welcome to my life." Hermione sighed and took another drink.

Luna put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Isn't your grandfather the one who said we must be careful not to judge a pukwudgie by the standards of a goblin and vice versa? We shouldn't assume what we enjoy is what Dobby enjoys, or vice versa."

"That's a good point." Rolf put his hand over Luna's and shot her a fond smile.

"Thank you," Luna said. "Also, I'm too hungry to ponder such things in more detail. I can't wait for Dobby's ice cream later! He always makes it so creamy." She released Rolf's shoulder and flounced merrily toward the staircase to the ground floor.

Everyone stood there and stared at her for a moment…everyone except Hermione, who drained the rest of her cocktail in one gulp.

Amelia stood back from the floo as Augusta stepped through. Even among Purebloods, Augusta was uncommonly good at flooing. "It's good to see you again, Gus," she said. "What brings you by this evening?"

"The need for alcohol and an adult with whom to speak," Augusta said. "You're well-provisioned on both counts."

"It's nice to be appreciated for my finer qualities," Amelia said drily. "Have a seat and I'll get you something. Firewhiskey?"

"No, thank you," Augusta said. "I'm too old for that sort of thing."

"Don't tell Susan, but I might be, too," Amelia said. "I keep it around mostly for her and her friends." She poured out another glass of red-gold liquid and passed it to her guest.

"Aberlour 18?" the older woman asked. "You're too good to me, Amy."

"Yes, I am." Amelia poured herself a glass and they wordlessly tapped them together before drinking. They no longer needed to say the names to which they toasted because it was always the same: Frank and Alice, Edgar and Constance.

They sipped together in silence for a few minutes before Augusta spoke up again. "I've been spying on Neville and Susan," she said, the normal firmness gone from her voice.

"That's not like you." Amelia arched her eyebrows. "What did you do?"

Augusta stared into the fireplace. "I got lonely after a few days and wanted to see how my Neville was doing, so I Disillusioned myself and snuck down to the greenhouses when he normally works. Susan was there."

Amelia hit her with the same stare she used on criminals to try to make them confess. The older woman lasted only a few seconds.

"I kept watching them because I thought she'd treat him poorly and I could use that to prove to him that he was making a mistake." Augusta took another drink.

Anger flashed across Amelia's mind at Augusta's assumption about her niece, but there was nothing triumphant or self-satisfied in the woman sitting there in front of the fire drinking. Susan needed no defence from or vengeance on Augusta; she had clearly handled that herself. For a moment, she missed the little girl who needed her help for everything, but Amelia's more realistic side knew she'd never been able to give that little girl everything she really needed. She'd never wanted to be a mother and didn't know what to do with a child. Children were Edgar's department. He loved them, they loved him, and he was gone and Susan was stuck with a replacement who never got the hang of it.

Amelia took a long drink from her own glass and refocused on her guest. Fortunately, the older woman was still staring into the fire and didn't seem to have noticed her hostess spacing out, as well.

"What," Amelia asked, "did you see instead?"

"Happiness," Augusta answered. "Susan helped Neville in the greenhouses and they just seemed to enjoy being around one another. The only time he got upset was when she got too close to the bubotuber plants. Every now and then, Susan would tell him a little more about what happened in Banda Aceh and he would just hold her for awhile, then they'd go back to work."

"I don't think I understand your concern," Amelia lied. She was pretty sure she understood it clearly, but she wanted to make sure Augusta did, too.

"I put my foot down," Augusta said, "Neville threw me out, and it turned out I was wrong and my baby boy is happier than ever. Why would he even want me back now? You were right, Amy. Are you happy? You were absolutely, one hundred percent right, and I'm a useless old fool."

Amelia took another long drink while she mulled over a response. Augusta drained her glass and stared at it like she blamed it for being empty.

"Well, Gus, let me turn that question back on you," Amelia said. "Why do you suppose your grandson might want you in his life?"

She looked morosely at the empty glass. "I thought I was pushing him to be better, but Susan told me I was just breaking his spirit. She and Harry did more to make him a man than I ever did."

Amelia was halfway through a sip of whisky and started coughing.

"Morgana's saggy tits, woman!" Augusta said. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation."

"I'm sorry," Amelia said once she got the whisky out of her lungs. "I think I spent too many years with dirty-minded Aurors…"

She paused, looked at her guest, and they simultaneously said, "Tonks," before Amelia continued, "so I think I'm permanently scarred. Anyway, you're just thinking about the problems. Start thinking about what you do bring to the table instead. You love Neville and he doesn't have a lot of that in the world. You successfully raised children and can help him do the same."

Augusta shook her head. "Susan told me I was Neville's worst bully during his Hogwarts years. I don't want to do that to any more children."

"Huh," Amelia said. "Worse than Draco?"

"Worse than Draco," Augusta replied.

"Damn."

"You're not helping, Amy."

"You want advice, then?" Amelia asked. "Stop trying to make him or anyone else better. Just love him as he is."

"Is it wrong to want him to be better, though?" Augusta asked. "Isn't that what every parent wants?"

"Yes," Amelia said, "and you mucked that up." She bulldozed right through Augusta's indignant reaction and continued, "He's a grown man now. You can either hound him right out of your life or accept that your watch is ended and transition into spoiling any grandchildren you might get rotten. It's up to you."

Augusta stared back into the fire. "I did muck it up, didn't I?"

"You really did," Amelia said. "Now, you keep making the same mistake, you can wallow in misery about it, or you can move on. It's up to you."

"Even if I want to move on, will he?" Augusta said.

"If you behave yourself, I think he will," Amelia replied. "He's one of the kindest people I know." She grinned. "If nothing else, he may eventually need babysitting help."

Even Augusta cracked a smile at that. "I see your point."

"Hey, Gus?" Amelia asked.

"Yes?"

"If you let Algernon touch any grandchildren of mine, no one will ever find either of your bodies," Amelia said in what she liked to think of as her "terrifyingly calm" voice.

Augusta sighed. "I understand. After all these years, I think I finally understand."

"Good," Amelia said. "Because this is your second chance. You won't get a third. Now go home and apologise to our children."

"I will," Augusta said. "I probably owe Harry's muggleborn chit an apology, too."

The words took a moment to penetrate the alcohol in Amelia's brain. "Wait, what?"

"Nothing," Augusta said quickly.

"There hasn't been a 'muggleborn chit' in this country in over ten years," Amelia said, "and Harry's dating life, or lack thereof at the moment, is literally a matter of public record regardless of how that poor boy feels about it. What are you talking about?"

"No one," Augusta said.

Amelia raised her eyebrows.

"I gave them my word," Augusta said.

The Minister of Magic sighed. "This is eventually going to cause me a huge headache, isn't it?"

"Most certainly," Augusta said. "It's going to be worth it, though, in terms of who is going to have a much larger headache."

"That is some small comfort." Amelia sighed. "Why do these things always happen to Harry?"

"I have no idea," Augusta said, "but Neville assures me this is the happiest he's ever seen that boy."

"Well, that's good, at least." Amelia pondered the situation for a moment. "I won't ask you to betray any confidences, but what would you do in my position to prepare for what's going to happen when all of this blows up in our faces?"

Augusta stared at the fire for a moment. "Start preparing people for muggleborns to come back," she finally said. "I'm not sure how, because I'm not very good at that sort of thing, but I think that's the best thing you could do."

"Morgana's knickers! You mean they've found the missing ones?" Amelia asked.

"Not yet," Augusta said, "but I think they're closing in on them."

"I'll do my best," Amelia said. "Damn it, I'm probably going to go down in history for this. I just wanted to clean up the mess Bagnold and Fudge left us and retire quietly, not end up involved in something so huge it distracts me from fixing the rot that's set in all around us."

Augusta shrugged. "I don't think we get a choice about what history throws at us. For what it's worth, though, the girl might be able to help you fix some things eventually."

"How so?"

"Well, think about it like this," Augusta said. "What could Lily and James have done if he'd lived long enough to take up his duties as Lord Potter?"

Amelia arched her eyebrows. "The Wizengamot wouldn't have been ready for that pair."

"Then I guarantee you it's not ready for Harry and his young lady," Augusta said.

"This is definitely going to be a huge headache," Amelia said, "but at least it sounds like fun, too."

"It just might be," Augusta said as she rose from her chair. "I should probably get home. Amy…thank you."

Amelia waved it off. "It was a good excuse to drink some Scotch whisky," she said. "I have more of the good stuff than I have time to drink it these days."

"I appreciate it, regardless," Augusta said. "I bid you goodnight."

Amelia stared into the hearth long after the flames changed back from green to their normal colour, watching them dance and crackle along the logs that magically never burnt down. "I'm sorry, Edgar," she whispered to the fire. "She deserved so much better than me. I just hope she finally has it."

The fire didn't answer. It never did.

If Nev was being honest with himself, he was probably tipsier than he should have been to use the floo, but he still managed to come back out in Longbottom Manor more less upright and get into a position to offer Sue his arm…not that she needed it.

"How do you do that?" he asked her. "You're so poised, but I know how much firewhisky you've had this evening."

"Practise, practise, and more practise," Sue said.

"And heredity," another voice added, and they both jumped a couple of inches into the air and came down reaching for their wands.

"I'm sorry to startle you," Augusta added, "but I thought Amelia and Edgar ought to get their due in that conversation. Either of them could outdrink all three of us combined."

"That's fair," Sue said. "I'm still a journeyman compared to Auntie."

Nev didn't say a word, instead fixing Augusta with a questioning glance.

The older woman sighed. "Listen, Susan, I…I don't understand you. I don't know how to talk to you or how to relate to what you've faced in your life. I'll try, though. More importantly, I'll support Neville and help him be there for you, because I think he's the one you really need."

Sue stood silent for a moment, processing this. "Well…thank you, Dowager. I'll keep that in mind."

"That's all I can ask," Augusta said. "Well, that and for you to call me 'Augusta.'"

"I will, thank you, Augusta," Susan said, slightly more firmly this time.

"Why?" Nev finally said. "I don't want you trying to 'subtly' drive her off like you were trying to do with Hermione."

"I'm sorry," Augusta said. "I'll apologise to Hermione for that, too. Anyway, what changed is that I saw how happy you were. I was wrong and I want to be a part of your life again."

Nev shook his head. "Honestly, Gran, I don't think I want you back in my life, not the way you've always been."

The older woman looked down at the floor. "After what Susan told me, I was worried you'd say that. I…I made a lot of mistakes when you were growing up, and tonight I realised you'd grown into a fine young man despite me, not because of me. I can't turn time back to fix those mistakes, but I can promise you that I'll try not to make them any more."

"You can't expect me to just forget and trust you now," Nev said.

"I'll wait," Augusta said. "You're the only thing that matters to me, Neville. I've been awful at showing it, but it's true. I'll wait as long as necessary to earn your trust back." She rose from her chair and stretched. "I was sitting too long again. I'll go back to the guest house now."

"Wait," Sue said. "You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do, dear," Augusta said. "I want you both to be able to enjoy your time alone until you go back to work. Let's talk again in a few days."

"Very well," Nev said. "Goodnight, Gran."

"Goodnight to both of you," she responded, and made her way out into the night.

Nev watched her leave. "I was ready for a fight," he said after she left. "I wanted us to scream at each other and I wanted to see her break like she tried to break me. Now she's broken and I just feel empty."

"Maybe because that's not what you really wanted," Sue said. Nev shot her a questioning look and she continued, "Maybe all you really wanted was to know she'd still love you regardless of whether you were stupid or useless."

He looked down at the ground. "Harry was the first person who tried to be my friend. I remember that troll breaking into the bathroom and thinking how I'd always thought I'd die alone, just not that soon. Then Harry dragged Ron in and went all, well, Harry on it and the rest is history. He didn't care that I was useless. He just wanted to be my friend."

"I wish I'd been there for you, too," Sue said. "I feel like I failed both you and Harry those first couple of years."

"You can't have been expected to hang out with everyone in your year," Nev said. "Besides, I'll never forget how you came to check on me after Gran took me to get a new wand during Fifth Year. I had to go back to the Hospital Wing afterward, and when you came in and asked how the wand was working out, I did some spells to show you. Everything came so easily, and you grabbed me and gave me a huge hug and a kiss on my cheek."

Sue winced. "Yeah, enthusiastically hugging someone suffering from the aftereffects of Cruciatus exposure was not my finest decision."

"I disagree," Nev said. "Sure, it hurt like you were jamming little pins into my skin wherever you touched me, but I didn't even care. For the previous couple of years you'd been pushing me so hard to improve my spellwork, and when you hugged me you shouted 'I knew you could do it!' I think that's when I fell in love with you. You'd never stopped pushing me or doubted that I'd eventually be a skilled wizard and you were so excited that I'd finally proven you right. Even Harry didn't believe in me like that; I think he thought, like I did, that I wasn't a very good wizard, but he didn't think any less of me for it. You never stopped believing I could be a good wizard and, because of how hard you pushed me, when I finally got that wand I turned into one almost overnight."

"You…you love me?" Sue asked.

He shot her a grin. "For nearly ten years now."

"You prat!" Sue smacked him in the arm. "You might have said something."

"I didn't think that's what you wanted," Nev said.

She sighed. "It wasn't. Hermione had to pretty much force me to confront how I felt. I was a coward."

"It's not like I was any bolder," Nev said. "Regardless, you're here now. That's all that matters."

"I suppose it is." Sue leaned into him. "We can't change the past and there's no guarantee we'll have a future. All that matters is what we do with each 'now' we get."

"When you put it like that…" Nev pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Since Harry had made party cleanup part of Dobby's gift, he and Hermione didn't have much to do after the last guest left around eleven o'clock. Hermione was still bouncing with nervous energy from the party, though, so he decided to take advantage of his recent gift. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

"Um…Hermione?" he asked. "How on Earth do I use this record player?" He put his hand up to his mouth to cover up a cough immediately after he spoke.

"Mr. Folkes explained it to me once," she said, rising from the chesterfield. "It's a little more complex than a normal record player. Was there a record you wanted to play?"

He nodded and handed her a Glen Miller record. "I thought it would be nice to dance to."

"Oh, Harry, that sounds lovely," she said. "OK, so after you put the record in, you make sure you've got a fresh needle and that you've given the player a good cranking, then you flip the arm over so the needle touches the record to start the playback." She paused. "Is this a little quiet?"

"Just a bit," Harry said, and covered up another cough.

"OK, I'll increase the volume." She opened a couple of small doors on the front of the cabinet right below the turntable and the sound came out much clearer and louder.

"Wait," Harry said, "you mean the speaker is in there?"

"It is," Hermione replied, "though I've no idea why they built it like that. I'm sure there was a good reason at the time."

"Fair enough." Harry shrugged, took a step back, and held out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

"You may," Hermione said as she took his hand.

They swayed together in the middle of the room for a few minutes before the song wound down. Harry released a cough he'd been holding back for about twenty seconds, raised his eyebrows, and looked over at the machine. "Only one song on a side?"

"Unfortunately," Hermione said. "And we'll need to swap the needles for each new record. Why don't you try this time?"

"OK," Harry said. He selected "Hear My Song, Violetta," put in a new needle, and flipped the arm over.

"Good work and good choice," Hermione said as he returned to her. "You've been coughing a lot tonight. Are you alright?"

He nodded and tried to clear his throat. "Dobby always makes his ice cream heavy on the cream and all that dairy gives me a lot of phlegm. Hem-hem."

Hermione noticeably twitched when he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry!" Harry said. "I hate having to do that because it sounds so much like the Umbitch…whom you've never met."

"It's perfectly alright," Hermione said. "You have every right to clear your throat. That's just a weird thing I've always hated." She paused. "Which is also weird because even though I remember always hating it, I'm pretty sure I've never actually hated that sound before. Those seem mutually exclusive."

Harry stared at her. "Of course. Of course she would be involved."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"No time," Harry said. "I don't want to lose this. Come on."

He took her hand and led her across the rooms to the floo, ignoring the poor Victrola as it played the soft tones of Glen Miller's orchestra to what quickly turned into a vacant room.

As Harry helped Hermione up off the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place, he summoned Kreacher and stifled a smile at the parallels to her first visit to the old house.

"Kreacher," he said, "please ask Sirius and Remus to come down as soon as possible. We've made a breakthrough with Hermione."

The old elf sighed. "Kreacher always forgets how shameful having a half-blood master is while Half-blood Master is away. Kreacher will comply, though, because this will inconvenience his drunkard, Pureblood Master."

The elf vanished and Harry turned to Hermione. "I think that's how he tells me he likes me better," Harry said.

Hermione just shook her head.

Sirius and Remus came downstairs a minute or two later in bathrobes. "What's up, Pup?" Sirius asked. "I thought you had that party this evening."

"It just ended," Harry said. "Afterward, Hermione and I were dancing—"

"Horizontally or vertically?" Sirius asked.

"Sirius?" Hermione cut in, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The next time you feel the need to embarrass me, ask yourself if making me more self-conscious than I already am is going to increase or decrease the likelihood of you getting those grand-god-children you're always on about," she said.

The older man's face fell and he turned to his partner. "Remus, she's making me choose between sprogs and jokes," he said. "Isn't that against the law or something?"

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sirius, do you remember the Lily Rule?"

"You mean 'don't mess with a witch whose IQ is best expressed to the power of your own'?"

"Yes."

"Oh, right," Sirius said.

Remus turned back to Harry and Hermione. "Please continue."

"Anyway," Harry shot Sirius a pointed look, "we were dancing and I cleared my throat." At that point, Harry finally allowed himself to clear his throat like he'd wanted to since they tumbled out of the floo. "Hem-hem."

Sirius, Remus, and Hermione all twitched involuntarily at the sound.

"What?" Sirius asked. "That's a perfectly reasonable reaction to the fact that you sound way too much like the Pink Bitch when you do that."

Remus's jaw dropped. "Merlin! Hermione reacted like that, too!"

"Remus, you said she was getting closer to recovering memory fragments," Harry said. "What if this is one?"

"It might be," Remus said. "Hermione, may I try to dig around in your mind? I promise I'll restrict myself to older memories, especially because I suspect there's some recent stuff I really don't wish to see."

"Very well." Hermione squared off and looked Remus in the eyes. "Do it."

Remus nodded. "Harry, wait ten seconds after I cast the spell and then clear your throat again."

"OK," Harry said.

"Legilimens," Remus said.

Harry waited a few seconds, cleared his throat, and then glared at Sirius to make sure he didn't say anything that might interrupt Remus's work.

A full minute of dead silence passed before Remus broke the connection off and fell to his knees, gasping. Hermione collapsed into a faint and Harry only barely caught her before she hit the floor.

"What happened?" Sirius asked. He had his arms around Remus's shoulders, though Harry had been too busy with Hermione and hadn't noticed the other man move.

"Umbridge," Remus snarled, his normally kind nature giving way to the wolf inside. "She waltzed right into their house, petrified Hermione's whole family, told Hermione she was taking back the magic she'd obviously stolen from a more deserving Pureblood, and pointed some sort of weird carved bone at her. Hermione screamed in pain while Umbridge just looked on with this sick smile on her face. Then she made a note in a leatherbound journal, obliviated all three of them, released them, and left."

The three of them looked at one another. "Fuck her up?" Sirius asked.

"Figure out how she did it first," Harry said. "Then fuck her up."

"Let's do this," Remus said.

Harry knelt and picked Hermione up in his arms. "She's going to need some time to recover. Mind if we stay here tonight?"

"Not at all," Sirius said. "Sleep now. Tomorrow, we'll start planning. We're going to destroy that woman. I don't know how, yet, but by the time we're done with her she's going to wish we'd merely killed her."

Kreacher appeared next to them with an understated pop. "Master is finally acting like a proper Black. Kreacher will prepare Master Harry's room and hopes Master will keep him in mind for any plans to inflict pain and ruin upon the enemies of the House of Black." The old elf popped away.

Harry and Remus stared at Sirius, who merely shrugged. "I still hate my heritage, but if embracing it is necessary to properly destroy Umbridge then I'll go give Walburga's portrait a fucking hug. I have my priorities."