Rachel had apparated from home in the morning on Saturday, while Theo had gone to meet with one of the other department heads at the Spell Crafting Guild. They'd decided that Markham was at fault for the accident, but now they had to decide what to do with him and there was a lot of internal politicking as people didn't want him on their teams. Rachel didn't see why they couldn't just fire Markham, but apparently it was more complicated than that.

She was in Montrose today, on the outskirts in a field where the stadium had been set up, for one of the last Quidditch games of the season. It was a demonstration game between the Montrose Magpies and the Caerphilly Catapults, which meant Ginny, Scarlett, and Viola would all be playing. Over the years Rachel hadn't had a lot of time to see her friends play in the League when she wasn't playing against them herself, so it was nice to get the opportunity to see all three of them at once. She wouldn't be surprised if the Magpies took the League Cup next year.

Finding her seat was easy enough and Rachel took a brief look around before relaxing. The stadium wasn't crowded today. Kids were all back in school for the most part, and attendance at games after the League Cup was mostly for diehard fans of the teams and for people who just enjoyed watching a Quidditch match. She was in disguise, as she usually was when she went out in public, and it was nice to pretend to be someone else for a while. It was nice not to be noticed, and the weather was even chilly enough that it wasn't out of place for her to be wearing a light cloak.

The game began in short order, a group of people dressed as magpies flying a circuit around the pitch and doing some stunts, and then the Catapult's staff setting off fireworks from the catapults that they'd lined up at the edge of the pitch. Rachel smiled and shook her head. She'd had eleven years to get used to the traditions in the League, and she still thought some of them were a bit silly.

She cheered for both teams as they flew out, recognizing her friends mostly from their positions, because she was too far away to make out more than their hair color and their uniforms. Scarlett had cut her hair short a few years ago, which she said made it easier to work on the creature reserve as she'd had various creatures try to snack on her. Ginny and Viola both still wore their hair long, but they both had it tied back while they flew.

As the game progressed, she mostly watched the Seekers and the Beaters. Outside of the Harpies, it was unusual to find female Beaters. Rachel hoped that the six League Cup wins with an all female team had shown everyone that it was a ridiculous double standard and that women were just as good as men at hitting things.

Finally, about ninety minutes in, Rachel spotted the Snitch. She felt a strange longing to be out there flying, to be reaching for it, but she contained herself. That was not her job any longer. She thought her shoulder hadn't been bothering her so much lately and maybe she'd try going for a quick flight later while the weather was nice and see how she did.

Ginny was the first to see the Snitch, but Viola caught on quickly. They dove in tandem, hair streaming behind them, and Ginny did a nice turning maneuver to grab the Snitch just before Viola could get there.

"That's Ginny Weasley and the Magpies, 220 to 70," the commentator called to cheers around the stadium.

Rachel continued to sit, waiting as people began to filter out of the stadium. She still wasn't a fan of crowds, but she could manage them now if she had to. She was planning to meet her friends after they showered and changed anyway, so she could give them time.

Finally things were quiet enough that she felt comfortable leaving and she made her way out of the stadium and around to the side where the teams entered their changing rooms. "To Ginny Weasley. I'm here and ready when you are," she said, sending her Patronus away.

A few minutes later Ginny and Scarlett emerged, both with wet hair from showering.

"Great game," Rachel told them, exchanging hugs.

"Not bad. We'll see how we do in the spring," Scarlett said.

"Viola's good, but she's not the one I'm worried about," Ginny said. "Speaking of which, where is she?"

"To Viola Richmond. We're all gathered just outside the Magpies' changing room when you're ready," Rachel said, sending her Patronus again.

"Where are we going for lunch?" Scarlett asked.

"What do you feel like?" Ginny asked.

"Pub fare is fine. I'm not up for something heavy," Scarlett said.

"Works for me," Rachel said, turning and seeing Viola approaching.

"I was so close," Viola called to them.

"It was close," Ginny agreed.

"Hey, when are we getting together for a game? Do we have anything planned?" Viola asked, looking at Rachel.

"I'll write Cedric and the others, see if I can put something together before the weather turns," Rachel said. They still had a few dozen people they played with at Hogwarts who got together for a few casual games a year. Over the years it had become a social occasion, with a mass of people as everyone grew up and brought their partners and friends and sometimes their children.

"Let's do Northern Vaults in Montrose, shouldn't be too busy this time of day," Scarlett said.

"I don't know that one. Can someone apparate me?" Rachel asked.

"Me too," Viola said.

"We've got you," Ginny said.

Rachel took Ginny's hand, which Scarlett grabbed on to Viola. She was ready to have just a quiet afternoon chatting about Quidditch and the League.

The first thing Rachel noticed were the swimming suits. None of the orphanage children had swimming suits, but many of the beach-goers did. Many of the adult women's swimming suits seemed to have a skirt piece and a top that covered their stomachs and chests nearly up to their necks. Most of their hair was neatly curled around their ears as well, and some of them had swimming caps. Many of the men also had tops, their swimming shorts were very long, and strips seemed to be the fashion. The children were running freely in the sand and the surf, while the adult caretakers kept a general eye out.

It was a little like time traveling, she thought, or as close to time traveling as she was willing to get. She thought that the thing that amazed her the most was that the world was not that different in 1935 than it was in 2009. Sure, technology and fashions had changed dramatically in the muggle world - not so much in the magical world - but it seemed to her that people were still more or less the same. The adults worked, taught, guided, and punished. The children learned, played, and occasionally suffered. It seemed to her that being a human was being a human, no matter when or where you were. The differences were just details.

Rachel found Tom Riddle relatively quickly, honing in on his dark hair and eyes and his tall lean frame. He was eight and a half years old now, and the orphanage was on its annual summer outing to the seaside. As Tom had grown, he had become more crafty. While Rachel more and more often saw him causing trouble at the orphanage, she almost never saw him get caught. Some of the adults, the ones who had been there longer, still watched Tom with a wary eye, but he was starting to charm the newer staff.

Tom still didn't have friends, not exactly, but he did have a group of kids that he bossed about and included on schemes. It was a little strange to her that she was witnessing the beginnings of what he had with his Death Eaters right here when he was eight years old. She still didn't understand Tom. She didn't understand what drove him to do the things he was doing. She could understand not wanting to be in trouble, but she couldn't understand purposely setting things up to get other people into trouble. So far she couldn't even find a connection between the children Tom chose to target. His targets seemed to be mostly random or whoever was available.

She remembered being eight years old. She had stopped speaking that summer. Rachel thought that at eight years old, her only real goals were survival and for people not to notice her. The idea of escape had of course lingered in her dreams, but at eight, she had been old enough to recognize that no one was going to come rescue her and that she couldn't survive on the streets. And, thankfully, she had been wrong. Severus had rescued her. It had just taken her some time to understand that she was safe with him and that she could trust him.

Rachel didn't know that there was any rescuing Tom Riddle. It felt wrong to condemn a child, and her view on things was undoubtedly tainted by knowing what Tom Riddle would go on to do as an adult. Maybe if Tom had grown up with his mother, if he had been shown love and empathy, that would have made a difference. Maybe if he'd been adopted and cared for and loved. She didn't know that it was as simple as that. Of course every child should have a good and loving home where they were well cared for. But didn't some people who had that grow up to do horrible things anyway?

Today, Tom was up to something. She could see it in the way he looked around, his gaze returning to the caretakers to make sure they were occupied with other children, and he was slowly making his way further away from the main group of children.

She followed, marveling that her shoes were sinking a bit into the sand, just like they would at a real beach. Her interactions with the world in the pensieve was limited. People and things could go right through her. But she could feel the breeze off the ocean, she could feel the heat from the sun, and if she knelt down, she could feel the grains of sand against her hand. She had put pensieves and memory on her list of things to research more about - her long list of things. She would get there eventually.

Tom came to a stop near two children at the edge of the group. "Want to see something?" he asked them, almost casually.

The children were both younger than Tom, maybe six or seven years old.

"See what?" the boy asked.

"There's a cave near here. It has a tidal pool," Tom said.

Rachel looked at the children again and remembered Professor Dumbledore showing her a memory of the orphanage caretaker talking about Tom. Hadn't she said that Tom had terrorized two children in a cave? She'd been thinking more and more about those memories that Professor Dumbledore had shown her, trying to fit in what she'd learned then about Tom Riddle with what she was seeing now. Now that Professor Dumbledore was dead, Rachel supposed she was the only person who knew these things.

She wondered what Professor Dumbledore had done with all of his research about the Dark Lord when he died. It hadn't come to her, or to Severus, and she somewhat doubted that Professor Dumbledore had given it to the Ministry. Maybe he'd destroyed it, not wanting the clues to the horcruxes to fall into someone else's hands. If he could figure out horcruxes from the clues they'd had, then it stood to reason that someone else could as well.

"What's in a tidal pool?" the girl asked, getting to her feet and dusting the sand off her hands.

"Sea creatures and stuff. Come on," Tom said, moving away.

The boy and the girl both followed, and so did Rachel, even though she was reluctant to witness this. Tom looked back every now and then, checking to make sure the adults hadn't noticed them wandering off, but the adults were all busy with the younger children.

Rachel watched Tom as they walked, trying to understand. As far as she knew, these two children had done nothing to Tom. He had no reason to hurt them. They'd simply been at the edge of the group in the direction Tom was going. Was that all it took for some people to decide to hurt someone?

If anything, with the life she'd lived, Rachel felt she shouldn't be naive. She'd experienced abuse and trauma. She'd witnessed the atrocities of war first hand. She'd seen many people die and even had killed two people herself. In some respects, Rachel was very practical. She understood doing what needed to be done, even if it was unpleasant. In other matters, she still simply couldn't understand why people operated the way that they did. She'd been angry enough to want to hurt people before, but she had never acted on that and didn't think she ever would.

When she was looking at Tom now, he didn't seem angry. If anything, he seemed excited. He wanted to hurt them, just because it was something he wanted to do. He was eight years old and he wanted to hurt people because it excited him.

They walked for what seemed like quite a while, the girl complaining and worrying, and Tom stringing them along. Finally they reached a small cave, the cold water racing over their feet as they went inside. Sure enough, there were small tidal pools, and Rachel stopped to take a look because she had never seen a tidal pool before. There was algae in there, and all sorts of tiny creatures swimming around. The kids had stopped to look as well, but Tom kept going.

"Back here. It's better back here," Tom called.

The two children followed him further in the cave, the cave growing darker and danker as they went back.

"I want to go back now. I'm tired," the girl said, sitting down in a mostly dry spot.

"Stop whinging," Tom said, reaching for her.

"Tom, stop," she said, reaching out, but Tom was already on top of her,

"Be quiet," he snapped, "or I'll make you hurt."

"Tom!" The boy rushed for them and Tom grabbed his arm.

Tom's face was full of concentration and then the boy started screaming, even though Tom wasn't twisting his arm.

Rachel stared, listening as both children screamed, the girl in terror and the boy in pain.

The boy fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face and his body thrashing.

Tom let go and turned to the girl, who shrieked even louder as Tom put his hands on her face.

Was he using the Cruciatus Curse? Was that even possible for someone his age, wandlessly even?

She didn't know. This didn't seem like accidental magic; this seemed very purposeful to her. Could spells like that be learned without being taught? Her own accidental magic had been explosive and unusually powerful, but she hadn't directed it. It had all happened as a consequence of her being upset or scared. She hadn't even known she was making things happen. To her, it had just seemed like crazy things occasionally happened, and those things scared her relatives as much as they scared her.

Tom had stopped and both children were on the ground crying and shaking. Tom was looking at his hands with an almost manic glee. He was realizing just how powerful he was, that he could do things that other people couldn't do. No wonder Tom had reacted the way he did when Professor Dumbledore came for him. Tom had already known he was special.

The memory ended and Rachel found herself back in the room with the Morsius Pensieve. She went over to the desk and sat down with a heavy heart. She almost didn't see the point in continuing to watch Tom Riddle's memories. If an eight year old could use the Cruciatus Curse - or something like it - on two children, then what more needed to be said?

If they wanted to stop the next dark lord or dark lady, maybe they needed to be on the lookout for kids hurting other kids, and, as a measure they should be taking anyway, make sure that children had loving homes as much as possible.

What if Tom had been adopted upon coming to the magical world? What if he'd been given therapy and support the way that Rachel had? Could that stop someone from wanting to hurt people? She hated the idea that people were set on one path from birth and there was no changing it, and she hated it even more that no one had tried to help Tom. She didn't know how much difference it would have made, but she thought they should have at least tried.

Rachel began to write, reluctantly describing the trip to the seaside in as much detail as she could bear.

Sirius motioned her over as soon as Rachel entered his kitchen. She took a quick glance around, seeing they had less than half the faction so far and everyone was occupied with getting tea and chatting. "What's going on?" she asked as she joined him near the stove and watched as he cast a small privacy ward around them.

"I read your proposal," he said, looking down at her to meet her eyes.

"Problem?" she asked, since she had assumed Sirius had read her proposal; she had sent it out to the faction nearly a week ago.

"It's pretty extreme," Sirius said.

Rachel did not find anything extreme or revolutionary about her proposal. It was paying House Elves for their work and making sure they weren't in situations where they were being hurt. That was it. "You don't think it can pass."

Sirius looked uncertain. "I don't know. I don't know, Rachel. It's a lot to ask of people."

"It's really not. Anyone who owns a House Elf can already afford to pay them."

He shook his head. "I don't mean that. I mean it's a lot to ask of people who are trying to get re-elected."

Rachel kept herself from snapping, because she didn't understand why most voters would care about paying House Elves. Without a census of House Elves, it was difficult to tell, but from the numbers she'd drawn on household wealth, less than ten percent of the population of magical Britain owned House Elves. "I'm not forcing anyone to vote for this," she finally said. "If we can't get the votes, we won't put it before the Wizengamot."

"I know you're not forcing anyone, but it reflects badly on you to split the faction vote," Sirius said.

"I can make concessions," Rachel said. "Anyone who is worried about being re-elected can talk to me, and I will publicly show them my support by going to their events or joining them for an article."

"Is that a precedent you want to set?"`

Was it? Not really, but this was kind of an all or nothing scenario. Either she threw her support behind the people in her faction or she lost them. "For the people in our faction. I won't promote the independents," she finally said. "If they want my support, they know what they have to do." She was getting that unsettling feeling again, the one that said she was taking too much power, that she was getting too involved.

Sirius nodded. "I'll round people up and let anyone who is wavering know that. You might have to put in appearances with some of the people who aren't up for re-election as well."

Rachel bit down on the inside of her lips. Sometimes she absolutely hated politics. Her faction should have been the easiest part of this process. "Alright, with reservations. I'm not just attending any random gathering they're throwing. How many people are we worried about?"

"A handful, but they'll come around. I'll take care of it," he promised. "You're going to be the one to have to go to Ethan, Janice, Amelia, and Rufus. They like you a hell of a lot better than they like me."

"Not a problem," Rachel said. She wasn't worried about Amelia and Rufus and the Ministry faction. They would vote for her proposal if she had the votes to pass it. She was a little more uncertain about the Guilds faction after their vote had been split in the last meeting. That was what Sirius was saying, she supposed. She couldn't afford to go into a vote with a split faction.

"When are you planning on releasing the proposal to the rest of the Wizengamot?"

"When we have the faction taken care of." She had been hoping to do that today, but she was having doubts that it would be that simple.

"We'll get it taken care of," Sirius promised again. "Do we have a date for when you want the vote?"

"Early spring, most likely. It's going to take that long for me to convince everyone."

"Do you have a plan?" he asked.

"Guilds and Ministry first. Then I'll round up the independents." She wasn't going to even bother approaching Turner's faction. That was a waste of time.

"I'm not sure you're going to get everyone in the Guilds."

Rachel wasn't sure about that either. "There are eleven independents. I can get some of them."

Sirius nodded, but he didn't seem convinced. "Looks like everyone is here. Anything I should know before we begin?"

She looked over the room, finding her faction assembling themselves at the long dining table. "I think that's everything for now. Let's see how it goes and then we can make more informed decisions."

He dismissed the privacy ward and they went over to the table.

Rachel sat at the head of the table, Sirius to her right, Draco to her left, and watched as everyone fell quiet and looked in her direction. "Thank you for joining us," she started. "First, I'd like to thank everyone for voting against Fallon's proposal at the last meeting. We were instrumental in ensuring that proposal did not pass. Based on what I've heard, I think we can expect similar proposals from him in the future."

"No way he's getting re-elected," Thomas Wiggens said.

"No. I don't have a direct source on this, but rumor has it that he was sponsored by the Merchant's Guild. If Fallon can't pass the proposals that he promised would pass, then his support will dry up," Rachel agreed. "I'd like to spend some of this meeting talking about the proposal that I sent to all of you last week, but first is there anything anyone wants to bring to the attention of the faction?"

"Speaking of Fallon," Nathan Wright said.

Rachel nodded for him to continue.

"He approached me, before the vote. Wanted dirt on you," Nathan continued.

That was interesting. "Did he specify what he was looking for?" Rachel asked, though it was hard to imagine what Mason Fallon thought he might find on Rachel that hadn't already been published by the Daily Prophet. Most of her dark secrets were out there for the world to see and had been since she was a teenager.

"Fallon wanted to know how you control the faction. He seems to think there's money or bribes involved. He wanted to know what we're getting from it," Nathan said.

"He asked me that too," Linette said. "He wanted to know why I joined your faction when I hold a family seat."

"Can I ask what you told him?" Rachel asked, since she didn't have an answer as to what her faction got from this. As far as she knew, they wanted to be here. She hadn't coerced or pleaded with any of them.

"I told him that I followed my conscience, as I always have, and for him to get out of my office," Linette said, getting smiles and a few words of approval from the table. For a ninety year old woman, Linette could be very firm and direct when she wanted to be.

"I told him that some people couldn't be bought, and may have heavily implied that he was not one of those people. He also left my office in short order," Nathan said.

"Thank you," Rachel said, because that is exactly what she wanted to hear. "Anyone else have a run in with Fallon?"

"I did. I also threw him out of my office," Anyssa said.

"Maybe we all should simply preemptively throw Fallon out of our offices and be done with it," Dolph Jenkins suggested, getting laughs from around the table.

"If that's how you want to handle it, that's fine with me. Just let me or Sirius know if he approaches any of you, that way we can keep an eye out as to what he's trying to accomplish," Rachel said. "Anything else?"

There were head shakes around the table, so she braced herself and continued. "I hope you've all had time to at least look over the proposal I sent. I'll let you know up front that I am aware that this one is a long shot, but I do believe we can get it passed. I'm open for any comments or questions that you have at the moment, though I'm also happy to speak with any of you one-on-one as well if you have concerns."

"I have a question," Stephen Bryant said.

"Please ask," Rachel said.

"Why is our focus on House Elves? Aren't there other things we should be focusing on?"

Rachel sat for a moment as she considered her response. "I'd like to think that one of the founding principles of our faction is standing up for injustices, particularly when those injustices are committed against people without representation. Together we have stopped the ongoing systematic torture of prisoners. We have made provisions to allow werewolves to create lives for themselves in a safe environment. We have redefined what constitutes attacks on muggles and increased penalties for those who do so. We have worked to ensure equal opportunities for muggleborns," she said, touching the major proposals that the faction had passed these past ten years. "Why should House Elves be any different? Why should we allow House Elves to continue to be exploited and harmed and even killed without consequence? There is no one else to speak for the House Elves, so we must do it."

The room was quiet for a moment and Rachel saw that some people were definitely uncomfortable with her suggesting that they should stand up for House Elves the same way that they would stand up for humans.

"But dear. House Elves like to work. Have you ever tried to get a House Elf to stop working?" Linette asked.

"This proposal is not about stopping House Elves from working. It's not about taking House Elves away from their families," she said firmly. "I have three House Elves myself and I pay them and treat them well. All I am asking is that House Elves are fairly compensated for their work and protected from harm. How can we protect House Elves if we don't even know where they are? House Elves are classified as 'beings' by the Ministry, not as creatures, and yet the only oversight of House Elves is done through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They don't even have a census on House Elves."

"I'll ask the question we're all thinking then," Nathan said. "I don't see a problem with the proposal itself. It's like you said, if House Elves are beings, then they should be treated as beings instead of as creatures. You wouldn't hook up a centaur to pull a cart or a wagon. The question that we actually need to consider is if this proposal stands a chance of passing. What is your plan?"

This was at least a problem Rachel could address. "If I can assure the Ministry faction that it will pass, we will have their votes. I can get at least half of the Guild votes. Add to that our faction and some of the independents, then we should be able to pass the proposal."

"If you can only get half of the Guild votes, you're going to need at least six independents. We know Fallon is out," Neville said.

"I'm hoping for more than half of the Guild votes, but after their vote was split last time, I'm giving a cautious estimate," Rachel admitted.

"We can get some of the independents," Draco said. "Leave Adam Harkness to me, I know what he wants."

"And I'm fairly certain Auroris Clark will vote with us as well," Rachel said.

"I will vote for the proposal if you can promise us going in that you have the votes. I won't be seen voting for a failed proposal," Thomas said.

"Same here," Stephen said.

"I wouldn't ask you to," Rachel promised. "I will not bring this before the Wizengamot until we have the votes. And we will have the votes."

There were nods around the table, but Rachel decided that she and Sirius were going to need to touch base individually with people to make sure they had the votes they thought they had. "Alright, thank you, moving on if there are no more questions right now about this proposal."

Rachel now had an exhaustive list of ingredients and combinations of ingredients that could affect memory when ingested in a potion. It was a much longer list than the list she'd made ten years ago when she'd first been starting out in sleeping potions. She had a separate list of ingredients and mixtures that could induce sleep, and a third list of stimulants. Somewhere in this mess was a potion that would allow people to forget their dreams - safely - for more than two nights a week.

The last part was important to keep in mind. Over the years she'd developed seven alternative recipes and modifications for Dreamless Sleep. She knew she would make even more in the course of seeking the ultimate answer, that was just the way inventing was done, but it was still frustrating. She made an 'x' next to the Sopophorous bean juice. She had brewed every combination she could think of with that and it was simply not possible to make a non-addictive potion with it.

"Rachel?"

She looked up from her work. "Hello Cyril. How are you?"

"Good. Busy. Can you help me with something?" he asked. He was wearing thick dragonhide gloves, the type that potioneers wore when they expected their cauldron to overflow with something caustic.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I hear you're powerful."

"Well, I mean, it kind of depends on what sort of power you need," Rachel hedged.

"A really strong and fast ward to keep us from being blown up," Cyril said, looking excited.

She'd spent enough time brewing with Severus that her first thought was him saying 'absolutely not'. Her second thought was that it at least sounded interesting. "You can't put the ward in place before you blow it up?" she asked, since that's the way it usually was done.

"We'll do that too, but I'm worried about it blowing beyond the stable ward," he said.

"What sort of bomb are you making and why?" she asked.

"Well, bomb isn't really accurate, it's not a dry potion. And it's not for blowing up people, if that's what your worry is, it's for making holes in things," Cyril explained,

"And the Draught of Destruction won't do it?"

"Much bigger holes," he said with a nod.

"Have you heard of dynamite?" she checked.

"Yes, exactly, but a liquid, for pouring."

Rachel could think of many problems with that. "If it's for much bigger holes, what's it going to do to the lab?" She had no intention of being buried alive in the Ministry. Or being blown up, for that matter.

Cyril waved his hand. "The labs meant for explosions are reinforced for five meters in each direction. Worst case scenario is we blow the door off."

"With us inside?"

"That's what the wards are for. I've been blowing things up for a good decade now, and haven't had any problems," he said.

She considered that for a moment. "Don't you want to test it somewhere you can actually make a big hole?" she finally asked, slowly running out of objections.

"That's later. I have sensors that will tell us the force of the explosion, which will let me know if I'm on the right track."

Severus would still be telling her not to do this, but Rachel was curious and it sounded like Cyril had everything under control and knew what he was doing. She checked her watch. "I have to be in the Wizengamot offices by one. Can we do it before then?"

"Should be quick, not a problem," Cyril said, beaming at her in a way that meant he knew what her answer was going to be. "Maybe you can set all the stable wards as well?"

"Sure," Rachel said, getting to her feet.

"Mira, we're going to go blow something up," Cyril called.

"Have fun," Mirabel said absently from her desk, her gaze still focused on her work.

Rachel followed Cyril into the hallway with the labs and down to one of the reinforced labs. There was a small steel cauldron nested in the area between three walls and Rachel peered in to find a potion slowly bubbling. "You just have to add something to this and it will blow up?"

"That's what the stick is for," Cyril said, pointing to a long metal stick that had a vial on the end. "We're over there, cauldron is over here."

"And what happens to the cauldron?" she checked, not wanting steel shrapnel to come flying at her.

"If all goes according to plan, it vaporizes," Cyril said, moving into place at the cauldron and taking a few measurements. "Oh, safety equipment. Just in case."

Rachel wasn't sure how much good safety equipment was going to do them when they were planning on vaporizing steel, but she figured at least it couldn't hurt. She went to the alcove and pulled out a pair of dragonhide robes that were going to be far too big for her, dragonhide gloves, and what appeared to be a hood with a transparent face shield in the front so she could still see. "Why is this so heavy?" she asked as she grappled with the robes.

"Reinforced with metal and charms," Cyril said, joining her to suit up. "We'll be a little singed if the explosion hits us, but not too bad."

She would rather avoid getting singed if at all possible. She didn't want to think what that would do to her hair.

"Can you cast through the gloves?" Cyril asked. "The hoods will protect our eyes and our hearing."

"Let's find out," she said, extending both of her hands and placing a stable ward in front of the cauldron. "Seems fine," she said when she'd checked that the ward was in place. That was an interesting experiment on its own. She'd never tried wandlessly casting through anything more than her winter gloves before. She realized something that she thought was stupid of her - if anywhere would have accounts of other wandless magic users and what they could do, it would be the Department of Mysteries. She just had to figure out where to find those accounts. At some point - she'd add it to her ever growing list of research.

"Two rows of stable wards, interwoven, then we'll be back here," Cyril said, taking position behind the shorter wall that separated the back of the lab from the front.

Moving slowly, because it was weird being weighed down like this, Rachel placed a series of wards around the cauldron, focusing on making them as powerful as she could. Finally she joined Cyril behind the wall. "You're sure this is a good idea?"

"Good is relative. It's an interesting idea," Cyril said. "I'm happy to show you my formulations if you'd like to look."

"I'm happy to look, but I only know the basics about combat potions," she said.

"Oh, no. Not a combat potion," Cyril said, peering through the transparent section of his hood at her. "I assure you this could not be effectively used in combat, nor would I invent such a thing that could be used like this in combat. Against ICW laws for one thing, and even we are not exempt from those. The Draught of Destruction was invented before Grindelwald's time. If it had been after, it would have been illegal."

"Good to know," Rachel said, and she was glad that there were some limits, even here. "Are we ready?"

"Yes. It's going to take three seconds to react. I'm going to count to three, starting when I pour in the vial, and you're going to cast a protective ward around us when I reach the number three. Ready?"

Rachel held up her hands. "Ready."

"One," Cyril said as he used the stick to pour the vial into the small cauldron. His hands were remarkably steady for what they were about to do.

"Two."

She took a breath and then pressed outward with her magic as Cyril said "three".

The explosion shook the entire room and despite the protective bubble around them, Rachel and Cyril both staggered. She managed to keep the bubble up, even though she felt the force that had pressed against it.

Cyril started laughing hysterically. "Look!"

Rachel looked and couldn't help but laugh as well. The cauldron and the stick with the vial were both gone and there was a good meter wide hole in the stone around where the cauldron had been.

"And that was with reinforcements and wards," he crowed, seeming almost ecstatic.

"Very impressive," Rachel agreed.

"Keep everything on. It's very hot in here; look at the sensors," Cyril said when Rachel moved to pull off her hood.

She went with Cyril to look at the dots on the wall that registered the conditions of the room. It was over forty five degrees celsius, and while she was sweaty under the thick robes and hood, she really couldn't feel the outside heat. The ventilation charms were doing a good job of clearing out the resulting smoke.

"It vaporized some of my sensors," Cyril exclaimed, sounding happy about this rather than annoyed that he couldn't register his results. "Well, that was enlightening. Did they take all of your wards? Will you check them?"

Rachel stepped closer to where the cauldron had been, noticing that there was surprisingly little rubble under the circumstances. She held up her hands and felt around. "They're all down." It was fortunate that Cyril had her here to cast that ward around them at the last second, or he would have been blasted off his feet.

"Excellent!"

"What happens to this lab now? Can people still use it?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, yes. Yes. I'll come back tomorrow when it's all settled and fix up the walls and the reinforcements. No harm done," Cyril said. "Now you know why I'm not much of an active member in the Guild. They wouldn't like this at all."

They wouldn't, but Rachel suspected that Severus' current apprentice would fit right in here in the Department, assuming she got through her mastery without blowing herself up.

"Ah, let's open the door, let some of this heat out so we can undress. I need to go write up my results," Cyril said.

Rachel opened the door, relieved that they hadn't actually blown the door off, and decided that for all his eccentricities, she liked Cyril.

"Weekend," Theo said as he sat down on the sofa next to Rachel on Friday evening.

Dingbat looked up at him and meowed, and he obligingly pet her back.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, though her mind was still back in her research.

"Please tell me we don't have anything planned for this weekend?" he asked.

She paused her calculations of how exactly to balance lethe river water with other mind altering ingredients and tried to pull up her mental calendar. "I'm seeing Severus on Sunday, but you don't have to come if you don't want to. I'm meeting with Ethan and Miranda for lunch on Tuesday. I'm still making plans for everyone else, but it won't be this weekend at least." Rachel had already sent her proposal to Ethan and Janice. She'd give them first look and get an idea where the Guilds stood before she moved onto Rufus and Amelia.

"That's fine with me." Theo said, looking down as Dingbat climbed onto his lap. "Must you?"

"She loves you." Rachel smiled as she watched Dingbat circle and then settle with her head against Theo's chest.

"I could do with a little less cat love," Theo said, even though he was petting Dingbat again.

"Do you want me to take her?" she offered.

"In a few minutes."

Rachel smiled again and checked on where Feverfew was at her side taking a bath. She'd already checked on the House Elves, and they were settled for the night, and the owls had their dinner and were probably out flying by now.

"Do you want to do anything this weekend?" he asked, leaning a little closer to Rachel.

She set her hand on his forearm. "Can't think of anything. I'm mostly formulating now that I have a base of ingredients to work from." She'd write out a dozen or so variations on a recipe, and then she could brew and see what she came out with. She needed to ask Mirabel about how to send potions out to be tested. Rachel was sure there would be additional complications somewhere along the way.

Theo nodded. "We should take a break at some point. You were working all the last two weekends."

"I did take a break last weekend. I went to see a Quidditch game," she reminded him.

"Even so," he said, twisting his arm so that he could hold her hand.

"I'm taking a break right now," she said.

"I can practically see you thinking." He gave her hand a squeeze. "There will be time."

"I'm coming to seriously doubt that I'm going to have time to research all of the things I want to research." Her list was both broad and daunting.

"You should have another hundred years to research and invent, we both will."

Rachel hoped that was true, but there was no reason not to prioritize. Her goal was to finish this stupid project with the memories of Tom Riddle and then really spend her time on the things she wanted to be working on - balanced with her Wizengamot duties, of course.

"We'll be fine," she told him, squeezing his hand.

"We will. Nothing to worry about," he agreed.