"As they walked the halls Harry admired their intact, non-ruble quality." –JacobApples*, "Easier than Falling Asleep"

Minerva McGonagall glanced back over her shoulder, and smiled faintly to see the young refugee staring wide-eyed at the imposing Gothic masonry about him. "So, Mr Potter," she said, "I take it that our castle meets with your approval?"

Her voice brought Harry back to himself, and he flushed self-consciously. "Well… yes, ma'am," he said. "Of course, that's not so difficult, given what I'm used to. When you've grown up in a crumbling shack on the Kirgiz Steppe, with five-ruble notes plastered over the cracks in the walls…"

"Five-ruble notes?" McGonagall repeated. "Your guardian patched his house together with money?"

"Sure," said Harry. "Why not? We lived in the Soviet Union; it was the least valuable thing in the house."

Which, McGonagall had to concede, was fair enough.


"That done, the Hallows themselves will be liberated from the bonds of Time, and be able to revert back into the Eternity whence they came, thereby healing the wound that the Pevensies inflicted on Eternity when they formed them in the first place." –Bar Sira, "Minuets in B Minor"†

With trembling hands, Albus Dumbledore wrapped the Wand and the Stone in their brother Hallow; then he stepped back, raised his wand, and said thickly, "Intermundosilvae."

The Cloak shimmered like the transfigured pool-water it was; then there was a brilliant flash of light, and Susan Pevensie smiled with satisfaction as the Deathly Hallows reverted to the inter-dimensional woodland whence they had come. "Thank you, Professor," she said. "I can imagine how hard that must have been for an old Quester like you."

Dumbledore murmured something inarticulately, and Susan continued to gaze meditatively at the golden bowl in which the Hallows had sat. "I'm sure my brothers didn't mean to wound the cosmos, you know," she said. "From what Aslan said, I'd guess they were just disoriented; after all, they were already nearly dead when the Rings fell out of Peter's bag and pulled them into the Wood. Probably they tried to jump into some other pool so they could die properly – and in that state, of course, they wouldn't notice if they got twigs in their hair or pebbles in their shoes, and I wouldn't put it past them to mistake Yellow Rings for Green on the first try and soak themselves. So they fell into your world, and a lot of odd wood and stone and water from between the worlds fell with them – and your Peverell brothers did the rest."

"No doubt, no doubt," said Dumbledore. "But I might wish, Miss Pevensie, that your Lion had seen fit to bring you to our world a trifle sooner with the Liberating Magic."

"Oh, he did," said Susan. "But you've no idea what an obstinate little feather-head I was back then, Professor. Ten years Aslan waited for me to grow up and acknowledge him again – and, unfortunately, that came to nine centuries of your world's time." She smiled wryly. "Which means, I suppose, that there are quite a few dead wizards in this world that I owe an apology to. Tell me, Professor, where does one go looking for good florists in wizarding Britain?"


"We are writing this letter to offer our Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials to Marcus Flint, in accordance with the Marriage Law Act, signed my Minister Shacklebolt." –mrsmichaelamalfoy, "Ginevra"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that aloud?" said the Minister Shacklebolt from the other world. "I don't happen to know International Sign Language."

"Oh, it's nothing," said my Minister, waving a hand. "I was just rehearsing what I'll have to dictate to my secretary; she's one of the ones, you know, whose hearing the Master Jarpory cursed away in revenge against the Turtledove Fraternity. Anyway, do go on: you say that your world's Ginny Weasley is engaged to Mr. Flint now?"

"That's right," said the other Minister. "Now that the Act has been passed to amend British wizarding marriage law, Arthur's inability as a Dementor's-Kiss victim to give consent is no longer any barrier, and the dear child can go ahead and marry the man of her dreams." He chuckled. "I wish you could have seen her the other day, glowing like a Lumos as she bustled about Diagon Alley preparing her trousseau. It would have done anyone's heart good."

"Well, good for her," said my Minister. "Though I don't know about that anyone; I can think of a few Mapreg-born wizards in our world who could never see anything in a young bride-to-be except a regrettable lacuna in her fiancé's masculine self-respect. Isn't that right, Mr. Malfoy?" he added, casting a knowing glance in my direction.

I smiled mysteriously. "No comment, Minister."


"' . . . And I've told you about the drinking!' [s]he replied, taking a single swing from the bottle nevertheless." –PokePotterfan93, "Living Life"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, of course you have," he said. "But, see, if I didn't drink all this butterbeer, then you wouldn't be able to collect the miniature playground equipment they put as prizes inside the bottles. And wouldn't that be a shame, when you're so close to having a complete set?"

Tonks snorted. "Not so bloody close, the stingy way they distribute these things," she said. "Look at this: one swing. The gits can't even be bothered to provide a whole swing set in the same bottle. It's the most shameless racket in history; they'll probably make me assemble the jungle gym bar by bar."

"Well," said Harry, rising unsteadily to his feet, "better get a move on, then. Mind lending me a few Galleons? Madam Rosmerta's been hiking her prices outrageously these days…"


*Apparently the same as the JacobApple from chapter 12; there's a revised repost of "Harry Potter and the Disorder of the Phoenix" (devoid, interestingly, of any form of the "Coach" passage) on his profile.

†Sorting-Head tip to Calyn for catching this passage. (I was wondering when I would end up putting one of my own quotes on here…)