The Potters lived at number twelve Grimmauld Place, an ancient house that they had renovated themselves, but as Harry Potter came up on forty straight hours in his office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he wondered if he'd ever get to sleep in his own bed again. He took a swig of coffee from his thermos and grimaced. Cold again. He rummaged through the paper carnage on his desk until he unearthed his wand and tapped the thermos with it. Steam immediately began curling from the small opening and he jammed the wand into his waistband.

"Mr. Potter!"

"In here," he called.

His assistant, Fredulas Cobb, poked his sweaty head inside the door. "Sir, you asked me to remind you about the meeting."

Harry sighed. "When is it?"

"Ten minutes."

Harry grabbed his thermos and an armful of files. "Let's go, then."

Cobb held the door open for him and they took off down the corridor. The Ministry of Magic was buzzing even more than usual and they passed dozens of wizards and witches all with the same expression of grim exhaustion as Harry. The Minister didn't usually go for overtime, but this was an exception, and nearly the entire department had been working endlessly to solve "The Problem".

The conference hall was already mostly full and buzzing with quiet conversation as Harry made his way to the front, Cobb politely elbowing a path clear in front of him. A lone desk stood at the front and Harry dumped his armload of files on it. "Right, is everyone here?" he called. Most of the assembly didn't take any heed of him, so he pulled out his wand and held it to his throat. "Is everyone here?"

Everyone hushed and looked around. "Good," he said, lowering his wand. "I know we're all exhausted, so we'll keep this brief."

Cobb, who had been busily organizing the files on the table, handed him a large roll of parchment. Harry waved his wand, and the parchment unfurled and was suspended in midair where everyone could see. "As you can see, the number of demonstrations has almost doubled since last week," he said. "All we know for sure is they call themselves the Wanderers, and they seem to be scattered all over Britain. Their demonstrations have been mostly peaceful, with different members sermonizing about dismantling the "old order" and calling for reform in the Ministry, but last night things took a turn for the worse."

He tapped the parchment with his wand and the schematic changed into a layout of photos, showing a destroyed outdoor shopping center. "A demonstration outside Wizengamot member Ardeena Long's house became heated when Ms. Long tried to disband the demonstrators. Someone discharged a spell that seriously injured Ms. Long and two other bystanders. The Minister wants more search parties and increased patrols-"

The assembly groaned.

"-around Wizengamot residences," Harry finished, raising his voice over the grumbling. "I'm working with the Wizengamot in the hope of getting them to safe houses, both to conserve time and department resources, but it's likely many of them will resist such measures. The other departments have each been required to supply at least twenty volunteers to assist with our efforts and allow us all some much needed rest."

The grumbling subsided somewhat, though Harry knew as well as they did that volunteers would be few and far between.

"What about pursuing the demonstrators?" someone asked.

"The legality of their actions is tenuous at best, but with the exception of the person responsible for injuring Ms. Long and the others, no one has actually broken the law," Harry replied. "We can take preventative measures to protect the public, but we cannot prevent the demonstrations or distribution of materials."

A chime sounded above them, echoing ethereally among the chambered ceilings. "Right, that's shift change," he sighed. "Everyone's dismissed, but be watching for new assignments which should be posted by morning. Thank you."

Everyone began filing out of the conference hall and Harry turned to his assistant. "Take these back to my office," he instructed, snatching up the parchments and stacking them in Cobb's arms, "and make sure everything's locked up. I'm going home for a few hours."

"Actually sir, I believe you have a meeting," Cobb huffed under the enormous pile growing in his arms.

"Who could possibly have a meeting with me at half-past one?" Harry snapped.

Cobb waved a memo from under the stack and Harry took it grudgingly. "When did this come?" he asked.

"Just now, while you were briefing the others," Cobb replied. "Shall I go, sir?"

Harry scanned the memo. "We'll both go," he said abruptly, jamming the memo into his pocket. He scooped up the rest of the files and the two of them went back down the corridor to his office, where Harry could see a figure through the frosted glass on the door. As he entered the office the figure rose from its seat and turned to face him. "Good evening, Potter."

Her face was more wrinkled and severe-looking than he remembered, but she still wore the same pointed hat and green robes, and her eyes were just as bright behind her rimmed glasses. "Forgive my intrusion at this hour, but it was necessary to come at once."

"Not at all," Harry replied. He handed the files to Cobb and sat down heavily behind his desk. "What can I do for you, Professor McGonagall?"

McGonagall resumed her seat, her robes billowing around her like an emerald sea. "I need your help, Potter," she stated. "Hogwarts needs your help."

"Has something happened?" he asked.

"Not yet, but I believe something is in the works that will not only harm the school, but could very well damage the wizarding world itself."

Harry was inclined to believe her. McGonagall had never been one for theatrics, so the threat must be real indeed for such grave sentiments. "Thank you, Cobb, give us a minute," he directed.

Once they were alone Harry leaned across the desk. "Tell me everything, professor."

McGonagall drew a single sheet of parchment from her sleeve and laid it between them. "This was discovered by a teacher earlier this evening," she said, smoothing it out with her fingers. The top of the page bore a crudely-drawn symbol of two wands crossed over each other. One wand was broken, while the other was made of metal and seemed to crush the wand beneath it. Under the symbol was an all-too familiar phrase: Free the Hidden.

Harry met McGonagall's gaze. "You suspect the Wanderers are at Hogwarts?"

"This propaganda is cropping up all over the place," she replied, "slipped into library books, pasted onto walls, even nailed over paintings of our most venerated historical figures, but that's not the worst. Last term several children were the targets of some of the most brutal bullying I've ever seen. No one has been hurt, thankfully, but several children received threats and ultimatums demanding they 'stop supporting oppressive government'. I thought we could handle it internally, until I saw the Prophet's piece on Ardeena Long. I cannot risk having that type of escalation at Hogwarts, not after so many years of peace."

Harry examined the parchment again. "How can I help?"

"I'd like you to come to Hogwarts and investigate for yourself. If these radicals are among the students or faculty, I want them found before they can cause any real damage."

"I'm afraid an official investigation will only scare the perpetrators away, not flush them out," Harry commented.

"Naturally," McGonagall replied, "which is why you will be granted a teaching position."

Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Teach? What could I possibly teach?"

"I've spoken with our Flying Instructor, Madam Chase, and she has agreed to a paid leave of absence, under the circumstances. You were always an excellent flier, Potter. Surely you could impart some wisdom to our students?"

"Flying Instructor?" Ginny repeated, abruptly paused in her task of setting the table.

"It's the only thing I could plausibly be hired for," Harry replied. "I haven't said, I'll do it, but-"

"But what? You need to be careful, Harry. I'm not sure returning to Hogwarts is such a good idea."

"What d'you mean?"

Ginny resumed setting the table without answering and Harry sat forward in his chair. "Ginny, are you afraid of something?"

Ginny finished with the plates and began laying out silverware. "It's just… Hogwarts wasn't ever a safe place for you," she said.

"Of course it was, especially when Dumbledore was there," Harry retorted.

"Harry, be sensible," Ginny snapped. "You were constantly put into harm's way there, often with Dumbledore's full knowledge and approval. Voldemort and the Death Eaters may be gone, but the name Harry Potter still means something. Putting yourself back into that environment could make things worse."

"What things?" Harry demanded, but Ginny was prevented from replying by the stampeding footsteps of their children descending the stairs. "Mum, Albus has got a bloody nose," Lily announced. Albus was right behind her, holding a crumpled handkerchief to his face. "What were you doing this time?" Ginny exclaimed.

"Looking for bowtruckles in the attic," Albus said from behind the handkerchief. "Lily swore she saw one, and I was the only one who could fit behind the crawl space."

"And how did this result in a bloody nose?" Ginny asked sharply, glancing between her two younger children. Harry had to suppress a smirk; with her eyebrows raised and lips parted like that, Ginny greatly resembled her mother when she used to reprimand Fred and George.

"He slipped and bashed his face on the floor like an idiot," Lily replied.

"Do not call your brother an idiot," Ginny scolded. "Finish setting the table while I see to Albus, and mind the rolls don't burn in the oven. I haven't got time to make more."

Lily begrudgingly continued laying out napkins while Ginny examined Albus' nose. "Not broken, thank heavens, but it's still bleeding a little," she mused.

"I'll get him a fresh rag and some ice," Harry offered.

"But-"

"I don't mind, really," Harry interrupted hurriedly, "come on, Albus."

Harry steered Albus out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, snagging a clean rag out of the linen closet on their way. "Is Mum cross with me?" Albus asked.

"Why would she be cross with you?" Harry grunted, wrestling the sink handles until the tap finally produced water.

"She sounded cross before we came in, and her eyebrows were angry," Albus replied.

Harry perched Albus on the toilet, then pointed his wand at the sink. "Glacius," he muttered, and the water immediately froze into ice. "We have some in the icebox," Albus offered helpfully.

"This is faster," Harry said. "Diffindo."

The ice broke into chunks and Harry selected one of the smallest, wrapping it in the clean rag before putting it to Albus' nose. "Hold that there," he directed.

"Are you avoiding Mum?" Albus asked. "Is she cross with you, too?"

Harry began wiping the dried blood off of Albus' face. "She isn't cross with you, she just doesn't like to see you hurt," he said. "You should be more careful listening to your sister, you know. She likes to get into mischief."

"Like you did," Albus chirped. "Lily says you always had adventures when you were a kid, and we should have adventures too."

"My adventures weren't games, Albus," Harry said sharply. "I was trying to stay alive, something I hope you never have to go through."

Albus bowed his head and Harry felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap," he said in a softer voice. "I only meant that you should find your own way, not try to be like me. Just… think twice the next time someone wants you to crawl into an attic."

Albus grinned behind the handkerchief and Harry tossed the old rag into the laundry basket. "Dinner should be almost ready," he said, "come on."

They returned to the kitchen, where Ginny and Lily were bringing bowls of steaming food to the table. "That smells amazing," Harry pronounced. "Shepherd's pie, is it?"

Ginny shot him a look that indicated their conversation wasn't over, but simply nodded. "James wanted to have his birthday dinner tonight so he can celebrate with his mates on the weekend," she said. "Did you see him in his room?"

"No, but I'll find him," Harry said.

"He's probably in that tree again," Lily offered helpfully, licking the potato spoon.

Harry went out into the garden and spotted long legs wearing khakis and white trainers dangling from a high branch of the oak tree near the back of the garden. "James, come in to eat," Harry called, but there was no movement. Harry jogged over to the tree, much to the chagrin of his middle-aged knees, and stood directly under the branch. "Oh, hullo Dad," James called, peering down over his book. "Is that dinner already?"

"Your mum's outdone herself this time," Harry replied.

James climbed down with the ease of a young monkey. "Doing some light reading?" Harry asked, noting the thick book in James' hand.

"Modern Wizarding Politics," he said, the title's golden lettering flashing in the late sun. "Derrick lent it to me for the summer, said his dad swears by it."

"Thinking about going into politics, eh?" Harry asked. "I could get you an internship with the Minister's office during school breaks if you like, or we could talk to your Uncle Percy-"

"Dad, I'm just reading a book," James interrupted, annoyed.

"I know, but you are sixteen on Saturday," Harry replied. "Never too early to be planning next steps."

James sighed and they returned to the house together. "Finally!" Ginny exclaimed, "I was beginning to think I'd have to use a Summoning Charm on the pair of you!"

"Sorry darling, everything smells delicious," Harry apologized. They all took their seats at the table and began passing plates around. James sat on Harry's left, his boyish features suddenly acquiring a manly look as Harry realized he was only a year from adulthood. His brown hair had only a tinge of Weasley red in it, but his brown eyes and rounded chin had always favored Ginny. His height and athletic build made him a natural at sports, especially Quidditch, much to Harry and Ginny's pride, but recently he seemed oddly conflicted about his path after graduation. Maybe this last school year will clarify things, Harry mused.

Lily sat between James and her mother, her long hair a decided red, much closer to Ginny's, and with a sprinkle of freckles that never faded as she desperately wished they would. Lily had her namesake's green eyes, but thankfully her vision was much better than Harry's had ever been, and her lips always seemed curled into some dramatic expression, unlike her more taciturn older brother. She was thirteen and already sprouting into a woman, which made Harry rather uncomfortable to think about, but it was the rapidly spinning wheels of her mind that brooked the most concern. She was always exploring and investigating, determined to find an adventure like the ones her parents had, often with Albus trotting after her like a loyal puppy. Harry had sat her down time and again to explain the dangers of this, but Lily just found new ways to get into wild escapades that often resulted in a scrape.

Ginny sat at the head of the table, the light from the kitchen giving her hair a fiery glow. She wasn't the young girl Harry had first encountered at the Burrow all those years ago, but her fierce loyalty and determination had been the bedrock for their family. She had retired from Quidditch after James was born, becoming the sports editor for the Daily Prophet, while also raising the children at home before they were old enough to go to school. She was the reason the Potters had been able to leave the Voldemort years behind and settle into the rich life they now enjoyed; without her, Harry wasn't sure he could have healed from all the suffering he endured. Even now, as she smiled at him from across the table, he felt eternally grateful that she had chosen to stick with him, despite everything, and that their children could grow up with a mother that loved and cherished them.

Albus sat between them, alternating bites of food with holding the ice on his swollen nose. With a mop of brown hair and hazel-colored eyes, he was a perfect blend of Harry and Ginny, right down to the smattering of freckles under his glasses. He was only twelve and wanted to be just like James and Lily, who were both tall and confident, but short-limbed Albus struggled to break out of his shell. He naturally felt most comfortable at home and always missed family members when they were absent, especially the years when both James and Lily were at Hogwarts. Now that he was entering his second year, Harry had hoped Albus would be more independent, but he still clung to them during the summer, especially to Ginny, who had a tendency to baby him. Harry worried about Albus the most, simply because he was the most suggestible of the three children, but Albus had made it through his first year without incident, so maybe he was growing out of that.

Thinking so intently about his children, and contemplating their return to Hogwarts in a few weeks, made Harry consider McGonagall's offer in a new light. If the Wanderers were infiltrating the school after escalating their demonstrations, they and the other students could be at risk of more than indoctrination. Maybe McGonagall was right; Hogwarts needed protecting.

Harry cleared his throat. "Everyone, I have an announcement to make."

Everyone put down their forks expectantly, then Harry realized he hadn't thought through how to tell them. "I, uh… I'm taking a sabbatical from work," he stammered. "It turns out Flying Instructor Madame Chase has suddenly become ill, and Professor McGonagall has asked me-"

"Harry," Ginny said warningly.

"-to fill in for her this term," Harry finished. "So, uh, I'll be joining you lot on the Express in a few weeks."

Lily and Albus' jaws were on the table, while James looked like Harry had just sentenced him to the guillotine. "It'll be fun," Harry continued feebly. "It's been ages since I was on the pitch."

"You can fly?" Albus asked incredulously.

"I was the Gryffindor Seeker for six years, thank you very much," Harry replied, "and I've still got a Firebolt Luxe out in the shed. A few weeks of practice and I'll be ready to teach in no time."

Harry noticed Lily's head was bent low over her plate. "All right, Lily?"

"I'm just texting Madge and Doreen, they'll go mad when they hear this," she said, and Harry glimpsed her thumbs busily typing on her smartphone under the table. "Oi, none of that!" Harry exclaimed.

"But Dad, everyone has to know!" Lily whined.

"No they don't!" James shouted, abruptly standing up from the table. "It's better if no one knows at all!"

He stormed out of the room and Ginny took advantage of the distraction to snatch Lily's phone away. "Mum!" she protested. "I can't keep this a secret from Madge and Doreen, they're my best friends, and they're as silent as the grave, I swear!"

"You know that you can't just go blasting things all over the internet any time you like," Ginny told her. "Both of you, finish your dinner. I'll go find your brother. I've got a chocolate trifle in the icebox that isn't going to waste."

She threw her napkin down on the table and followed after James, leaving Harry and the other children sitting in silence. Harry shoved an enormous bite of shepherd's pie into his mouth, which he immediately regretted as it singed his throat, but he swallowed it anyway and attempted a smile. "Very good, this," he croaked. "Anyone for seconds?"

Lily stomped out of the room, angry tears spilling down her face. "Er, Dad, I think my ice melted," Albus said, holding a now dripping handkerchief.

Harry sighed and took the rag from him. "Eat up," he said, heading over to the kitchen sink. As he wrung out the handkerchief, he looked out across the garden and could see Ginny and James arguing. He couldn't hear them very well, but it didn't seem likely they would be returning soon. No going back now, I suppose, he thought.