Daoimear de Dán: Inné agus Inniu

Chapter One- Back to School

1st September 2014. Ruairi House, Windermere.

In the Lake District, high in the hills above Lake Windermere, if you know where to look, there is a house nestled amongst the trees. It is a perfectly normal house of three stories that looks like it was probably built in the mid- to late-1800s, nothing particularly special or unique to this part of the country. There's a modern garage just off to the side of the house, inside which live a rather nice green Jaguar and a little red Ford Fiesta, both of which are at least ten years old but look shiny and barely used.

Let us instead concentrate on the house. One particularly strange feature of the house is the cat-flap set into the roof. Not that strange, you say, perhaps the owner has a bird of some sort. Inside the decor is a little... eclectic, to be sure, but perhaps the owner has either travelled widely or just watched too many episodes of Changing Rooms. There's a real fireplace, which is a little unusual in this day and age, but it's an old house, remember. But now look at the mantelpiece. There's a jar of glittering powder at one end. Could be anything, you say, space-age pot-pourri. Now take a closer look at the photographs jostling for space on the mantelpiece.

The first is of two little girls, not more than five years old. This would be perfectly normal except that they're sitting on a lion. A real, full grown lion. What kind of parents would do that, you ask. And hang on just a minute! Are they moving?

This is a perfectly normal household. If you're a wizard, that is. Oh, and if normal means world-renowned war heroes. This is the Potter household just as its owners dreamed it would be nearly twenty years before.

***

"Lilyella!"

The voice tore through the house. The owners of the house, Mr and Mrs Potter, looked concerned as they heard footsteps thundering down the stairs.

"Mum!" shouted fourteen-year-old Kitty Potter as she stormed into the kitchen, green eyes blazing and black hair flopping in her eyes.

"Yes dear?" Hermione asked in a purposely calm voice.

"Ella stole my Quidditch Through The Ages!" irate Kitty shrieked at her parents.

"I DID NOT!" another voice yelled from somewhere above them. Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, but in her ire, Kitty missed it. "WHAT WOULD I WANT WITH HER BOOK?"

"Kitty, you have exactly five minutes before we leave for Kings Cross," her mother told her. "I assume you're ready?"

Kitty suddenly looked quite panicked, but within a second her poker face was in place.

"Of course I am," she said before dashing up the stairs. Harry and Hermione lasted a full five seconds before bursting into laughter.

"This happens every year," he said fondly. "And I'd put money on her book being under a pile of clothes."

***

Five minutes later, four Potters were ready to leave for London. The fifth Potter, nine year old Richard, was already off at Hogsmeade Primary School for the day. Hermione handed out Floo powder rations before then taking Lilyella's trunk and moving into the fire.

"Diagon Alley!" she shouted before disappearing into the Floo Network. Lilyella followed with her owl, then it was Kitty's turn. She had, in fact, found her Quidditch book under her practice robes. Finally, Harry went last with Kitty's trunk.

They all emerged safely in the Leaky Cauldron where they were immediately met by the Minister of Magic.

"Hello Percy!" Hermione called to him. Percy smiled and checked his watch.

"Right on time, good, good," he said briskly but not without warmth. "We've got the cars waiting for you."

"You really didn't have to, Perce-" Harry began.

"Not at all, Harry," Percy interrupted. Harry wondered if he was going to get another one of those 'you're the Great Harry Potter' speeches. But Percy surprised him. "Did it for the rest of the family, didn't I?"

Harry smiled at Percy, a man who had lightened up quite considerably over the last few years. Percy considered them family, and that meant all the world to Harry.

***

They got to Kings Cross in record time and once on Platform 9 3/4 the Potters were ambushed by their friends. As always, they fragmented into their usual groups and pairings. Lilyella grabbed her best friend Paul 'Son of George' Weasley and they immediately began chattering incessantly as if they had not seen each other in weeks instead of the one day it had actually been. Similarly Kitty and Rain 'Daughter of Ron' Weasley latched onto each other, two sets of eyes gleaming mischievously.

"They're up to something," Harry said with a slightly concerned smile. Ron snorted.

"Harry, of course they're up to something. They're worse than Fred and George."

"That reminds me," said Hermione as she came over and hugged Ron warmly. "I must thank your brothers for those new and improved Chocolate Frogs."

"Jump higher, don't they?" said Ron, glaring darkly the length of the platform towards Fred Weasley.

"Well," said Hermione stiffly, "I spent the better part of my weekend scraping splattered frogs from ceilings in our house."

"Hello!" called George cheerfully as he approached. Three sets of eyes: green, brown and blue glared at the professional prankster.

***

Already settled into their usual compartment, two Weasleys and two Potters sat watching the older generation on the platform outside.

"Like kids, the lot of them," said Rain. Kitty snorted derisively in agreement.

"I know. They're usually staid, boring grown ups. Then they all get together in the same place and they might as well be First years."

"Leave them alone," said Lilyella in a firm voice. "Where is it written that grown ups aren't allowed to have fun?"

Kitty stuck her tongue out at her twin.

"Very mature, Kit. Anyone would think that you were a First year."

"Well come on! You know what they're like! Our mum and dad act like teenagers sometimes. Look!" Kitty pointed out of the window. Harry and Hermione were standing talking to Fred, Angelina, Ron and George. Harry had his arm wrapped around her waist while Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. They watched as Harry planted a kiss on the top of Hermione's head as she talked animatedly with George, probably still chastising him for the new Frogs.

"Leave them alone, Kathleen," said Lilyella in a low, warning tone. Rain and Paul exchanged a worried look, both hoping that this didn't turn into the latest instalment of the Twin Wars. There was a pause in the proceedings as the train began to pull out of the station and they waved to their parents.

"Well, all I'm saying is that really puts you off your Cornflakes when you come downstairs of a morning and your dad is snogging your mum like it's going out of fashion," Kitty said, putting her feet up on the opposite seat.

"Actually," a new voice joined the conversation. "Some of us would love for nothing more."

Kitty's face visibly fell. In the doorway stood auburn-headed Deirdre Richards, the new Head Girl of Hogwarts and daughter to a long dead father.

"Hi Deirdre," said Lilyella with a warm smile, pointedly ignoring her sister. "How was your summer?"

"It was pretty good," Deirdre replied with a bright smile. "Me and my mum went on an archaeological dig in County Sligo with some people her Guardians know."

"Congratulations, Deirdre," said Paul, referring to the shiny new Head Girl badge pinned to the older girl's robes.

"Thanks. I should probably head off to the Prefect carriage. Just wanted to say hello. Mum said to say hello too. She wanted to come today but she's in Australia." Deirdre smiled at them and then went off down the corridor. Kitty only paused for a second before tearing after her.

"I'm sorry," she said. Deirdre smiled sweetly at her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know you are, and you didn't upset me. Not really," Deirdre smiled at her to prove this and pushed her unruly auburn hair out of her brown eyes. Kit looked down at the floor.

"I'm still sorry."

"It's not me you need to be sorry to, Kit. You should count yourself bloody lucky that you have parents that still talk to each other, let alone love each other so much."

"I know. I don't even mind most of the time. But I suppose.... They're embarrassing!"

Deirdre laughed rather loudly.

"Oh Kitty, all parents are embarrassing. It's a requirement."

"Your mum isn't embarrassing."

"Oh no? I suppose you've forgotten the time she visited school to talk about the Second Voldemort War in History of Magic and ended up challenging the new History teacher to a duel? And she won?"

"That was cool. Not embarrassing."

"Not for me," said Deirdre with a wry smile. "It's a fact of life, kid. Our parents embarrass us. It's probably payback for all the nights we kept them up as babies or something."

Kitty smiled and nodded.

"I know."

"Go on, get back to your carriage. It's against the rules to loiter in the corridors when the train is moving. Don't make me take points off you already," Deirdre smiled and watched Kit bound back into her carriage.

***

Harry and Hermione returned to an empty house. Such things didn't happen often during school holidays and they cherished such moments in term-time.

"How long until Richard is home from school?" Harry asked before she even had the front door shut. Hermione giggled.

"Hours, dear. He only left an hour and a half ago."

Harry promptly did a lap of honour around the living room before scooping Hermione into his arms.

"Put me down!" she squealed. He smirked at her and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not on your life," he replied. And even though he was carrying his wife, he still took the stairs two at a time.

***

Ron Weasley was the sort of man who woke up every day and thanked his lucky stars. He genuinely loved his life. He had a beautiful wife, beautiful children and he had a job that paid galleons for only a little work and in the last decade or so, the Chudley Cannons had started winning again. He had the life he'd always dreamed of when he was just one of those poverty-stricken Weasleys so many years before.

The Weasleys were not by any stretch of the imagination poor anymore. Aside from Ron's own lucrative career as a shaman for hire and sometime celebrity Quidditch commentator, his brothers Fred and George had branches of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Britain, Europe and America. His sister Ginny ran a chain of clothing stores with his wife Deanna. Bill was still raiding tombs for Gringotts' across the world and loving it, while Charlie and his wife now owned the dragon sanctuary in Croatia where they met. Not to mention Percy, who had just entered his seventh year as the Minister of Magic. The Weasleys were no longer poor and they were now, almost without exception, celebrities to one degree or another.

More than that, Ron was eternally grateful that his family had made it out of the Second Voldemort War intact. He had been so utterly terrified that people he loved would be killed, not least because each and every one of them had had prominent roles in the war. Instead, and Ron thanked a vague deity again, they had all survived and become heroes.

"Ron! Stop bloody daydreaming!" Deanna Weasley's normally dulcet tones ripped unceremoniously into his deep thoughts and he looked up from his lunch. She was standing in the kitchen doorway wrestling her rather unruly dark hair into some sort of style.

"I wasn't daydreaming," he said. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"Yeah right, Ronnie. I'm off in a minute."

"Will you be gone all day?"

"Probably. Ginny said that there's an American buyer coming to meet us today so I won't be able to skive off. And lest we forget, she gave me the morning off so we could take Rain to the train."

"I didn't say skive off," he said. "I just thought you might come home to work."

"Ron, when have I ever got work done at home?" she asked, pausing in her hair-styling to lean over to her three-year old son and wipe milk from his chin.

"Well, there was... No, I don't suppose you do."

"There's always something. Either it's your mother visiting or Romeo or washing or bills or-"

"Your husband wanting to give you a good ravishing?" he cut in with an over-exaggerated smile. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you think I'd remember something like that. Don't forget that Romeo has an appointment with the healer this afternoon."

"He does?" Ron looked blank.

"Yes dear," she said rather patiently. "I booked it for two thirty, which should leave you plenty of time after your last appointment."

"I've only got two clients today. Shouldn't take long."

"I know." Deanna finished her hair and leaned over the table to kiss him briefly. "See you later."

"Have a nice day," he said through a mouthful of food. He watched her kiss Romeo and ruffle his hair before going into the living room to Floo to the Dee & Gin shop in Hogsmeade. "Looks like it's just us now, kid," he told Romeo. From his seat beside him, Romeo giggled and flicked a little bit of his lunch at his dad.

***

"Harry! Dinner's ready!" Hermione shouted up the stairs as she put three plates of spaghetti on the kitchen table. Richard was already sitting there waiting eagerly for his favourite food. Harry bounded down the stairs and jumped into the chair opposite Hermione.

"Isn't it lovely and quiet without the bickering twins around?" he asked his son with amusement.

"Can I watch whatever I want on telly before going to Jamie's house?" Richard asked eagerly. Harry smiled and nodded. Richard beamed- when the girls were home he always had a battle to see the Martin Miggs' television programme.

"Have a nice day back at school, Ritchie?" Hermione asked.

"Yes! Me and Jamie made a model of a Quidditch stadium. Madam Shacklebolt said ours was the best in the whole class." Richard beamed proudly as Harry leaned over and ruffled his hair.

"Jamie and I, dear," Hermione said. Richard looked at his mother and rolled his eyes.

"Has she always been this bad?" he asked his father. Harry snorted with laughter and nodded eagerly.

"Oh, much, much worse."

"Really?" Ritchie asked with wide eyes. Harry laughed again.

"She got better. Uncle Ron and I saw to that."

Hermione thwapped him with the oven glove.

"Don't listen to him, sweetheart. He's doing the washing up now he said that."

"Hey!" Harry said, pouting at her. She just smirked.

"That'll teach you," she said. Richard laughed. Harry and Hermione both smiled contentedly, knowing that this was the life they had always wanted.

***

Maura Richards threw her bag down and kicked the back door shut with a slam. The weather on the Galway coast had already turned from summer to autumn without bothering with an Indian summer, it seemed and she'd received a soaking just walking home from the nearest village for a bottle of milk and The Irish Times. She wasn't overly fond of the first day of September and this year was no different. Her favourite time of year was summer, when the sun shone for once and everyone was home from school. She lived for warm days by the sea with her daughter and her friends. If she closed her eyes, she could see the last time in her mind: Draco Malfoy having no luck with a Weasley Wheeze or two, Kit and Rain getting up to some mischief, Harry and Hermione laughing and joking with Ron or Sirius or anyone- even her.

She had turned thirty-six this year. When she was young, she'd never even imagined being thirty-six. When she was young, she couldn't even comprehend what it meant to be thirty-six. When she was eighteen, she'd never thought she'd make it to twenty, never mind thirty-six. She had expected an early, violent death while battling evil. Instead she'd spent fifteen years in relative serenity. There had been fights to win but they'd hardly been hardly life-threatening. Every now and then she felt restless, like she needed to be fighting something, someone, but the years had helped curb her need for violence. She felt, in fact, like her destiny had already been fulfilled and her life was now hers and hers alone. She still didn't know how to take that.

***

The Sorting Ceremony was old hat for such lofty Fourth years as Kitty and Rain, and they paid only a little attention to it- just enough to know when to start clapping and when to stop clapping. Lilyella and Paul chose similar tactics in order to discuss some of his dad's new merchandise. Slightly up the table from them, Deirdre and the Seventh year Gryffindors were deep in conversation about the heavy workload they had to deal with this year.

"Welcome back to a new year at Hogwarts!" Professor McGonagall called out. Most of the students jumped at the sound of her voice, having not noticed the Sorting end.

"I hope this will be yet another successful and happy year for all of us, especially our newest students. I would like to remind you all that the forest is still forbidden to all students and there are no exceptions to this rule. I would also like to welcome Deirdre Richards and Ashley Crawford as our new Head Girl and Head Boy- I'm sure they'll do a grand job. I can see that you're all hungry, so get stuck in!"

Plates and bowls filled with food and the hall erupted with noise.

"Sucks for you Deirdre," said Daisy Fortescue in a bright voice, shovelling salad onto her plate. "You'll probably have to spend ages with the abominable Ashley."

"I know," Deirdre replied in an uncharacteristically cold voice. "But what doesn't kill me only makes me stronger."

"What's so wrong with Ashley Crawford?" cut in Lilyella curiously. Deirdre and Daisy shared an amused, knowing look.

"The easier question would be what's right with Ashley Crawford," said Daisy, looking over at tall, blond and blue-eyed Ashley where he was sat at the Slytherin table.

"He's a snotty, spoiled, conceited, chauvinistic, mean, odious, black-hearted... knob," said Deirdre.

"He's nice to me," Lilyella sniffed. Daisy giggled.

"Oh Ella, of course he is! You're Harry Potter's daughter, not to mention sweet, pretty and one of the teachers' favourite students. But the fact remains that he is a total berk."

"It's because he grew up with his uncle," Jackson Shacklebolt, a quiet, deeply intelligent young man in Deirdre's year.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Ella asked.

"Because," Jackson explained patiently "His parents were killed in the war. Before the war, actually, and he was brought up by his uncle. His parents were the well-liked Crawfords, but his uncle is Theodoric Lestrange."

Lilyella didn't need to be told who Theodoric Lestrange was- everyone knew that the Lestranges were Dark Magic people- most notably Rodolphus and Bellatrix, who were two of the infamous Azkaban Six. Her parents had fought a war against those people. She shuddered involuntarily at the mere thought.

"But that doesn't mean he's mean," she said rather feebly.

"Take it from someone who knows," said Deirdre "he's an arrogant git."

"How do you know?" Ella asked, her curiosity well and truly piqued. Deirdre's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Just trust me, all right?"

"No, tell me!" Ella's eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Leave it Kit," said Deirdre "he's nasty and so is that vicious bitch Eustacia Thompson."

At the rare venom in Deirdre's voice, Ella shut up and took the opportunity to look over at Ashley. He was really the most handsome boy in school- what did Deirdre know? She watched him flick a piece of bread at Flynn Malfoy. Her smile disappeared as she looked at the unpleasant girl sat beside him. Although Deirdre had special dislike for her, Eustacia Thompson was undoubtedly an objectionable character. She liked to think she was particularly attractive but her features were too sharp, too pinched and her demeanour too nasty for her to be considered beautiful.

"Well..." said Ella, groping for a change of subject. "Who is the new Quidditch captain?"

"For who?" asked Daisy. "Us? Mark of course."

"I know that," Ella said, bristling slightly at being talked to like she was a First year. "I meant Slytherin."

"Marianna Bulstrode-Turner!" Mark 'New Gryffindor Captain' Johnson called from a few seats up the table. A collective groan rose up.

"She's a twenty four carat bint," growled Daisy.

"My mum once got into a fight with her mum when they were here," said Ella.

"Well, your mum's always been really, really clever," Danita cut in. "It's bad enough we have to play against Pug-Face, but she's their Captain now too? Life is too unfair."

"You should all invest in extra padding or life insurance," advised Jackson.

"Too right," said Kit, now chiming in herself. "Buckle up and get ready for plenty of blatching, flacking, stooging and all the worst bits of Quidditch Through The Ages."

A deflated feeling descended upon the Gryffindors as they fell silent to consider the coming Quidditch season. Only the new First years, relieved after getting through the Sorting unscathed, chattered on loudly, stuffing food into their mouths like there was no tomorrow.

***

There was a tradition of sorts in the Weasley family that all the grown-ups would go to the Burrow on the evening of the first day of September. It was more of a habit than a tradition really, because it had only been going a few years. It had started slowly when Percy Weasley, Jr. had started secondary school, then Robert and Danita Weasley the next year, then four years previously when a whole raft of the Weasley and Potter children went off to Hogwarts. Their parents were thrown into the throes of "are we really old enough to be sending our children off to Hogwarts?" worries and all converged upon Molly and Arthur's house to prove to themselves and each other how immature they still were. On this night babysitters were found for the children not yet old enough for Hogwarts and it was a chance for everyone to behave like children.

Most of them privately (and sometimes not so privately) felt that the war had robbed them of the last precious years of their adolescence. Almost everyone had got married within a couple of years of the end of school and the war. They all now wondered, happy as they might be now, if they were right to have rushed so quickly into adulthood.

The first day of September each year was a way for them to regain a little of what they felt they had lost. When they were all together at the Burrow, it was just like they were themselves again, back at school with no worries save for Snape's homework. Tonight, as an added bonus, they would also be going to see a Cannons night game.

"Good evening Molly!" Hermione greeted her hostess brightly, kissing her on the cheek.

"Anyone else here yet, or are we running as early as Harry thinks I am?"

"Only Draco and Ginny so far, dear. I know Ron had a late last-minute appointment."

It was not surprising to Hermione that when she went into the living room both Draco and Ginny were working. Although they had been married less than a month earlier, they were both dedicated to their businesses.

"Evening," Draco mumbled at Harry and Hermione when he saw them enter. He went back to whatever report he was reading.

Malfoy Magical Enterprises was one of the magical business success stories of the 21st Century. It had been Draco Malfoy, of all people, who adapted television for magical uses and introduced it to the magical world. That had been in 2003. By 2007 there were six channels, all offering the best magical technology (Malvision was the innovation that placed the audience in the thick of whatever they were watching: sight, sound, smell, although his science wizards hadn't managed to get touch right yet). By 2010 it was thought that 95% of all British magical households had at least one MME television. MME also owned the three most popular channels and he was working on buying a controlling chare in the Wizarding Wireless Network to, as he said himself: "consolidate my position as the greatest media baron the magical world has ever seen." He was only half joking. In addition there was MalFolio, his top-class publishing company that specialised in fiction. Draco Malfoy basically had a finger in every magical business pie worth knowing about.

Ginny, on the other hand, was the business side of the other great success story of the century: Dee & Gin's, the chain of boutiques with branches in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and New York. Ginny flashed Harry & Hermione a bright smile and went back to her calculations to see if a Paris branch was viable yet.

"Looks like the honeymoon is definitely over," teased Harry. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

"Tea, Harry? Hermione?" Molly asked, coming in with a tray of butterfly cakes (complete with working wings)

"Yes please," they answered together. Molly smiled, Ginny laughed and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Typical," he muttered, earning a smack from Ginny.

"HELLO!" Ron's voice boomed through the room as he and Deanna came through the kitchen door. Greetings were exchanged and then Ron grabbed Ginny's paperwork from her hands.

"Ron!" she screeched, trying to grab her papers back. "I was in the middle of something!"

"Don't care," he said blithely. "All day I've had to put up with this stuff from Dee and I won't stand for it now. Take a break, sis."

Ginny looked very much like she wanted to wallop him, but said nothing and sat back down. Deanna sat down beside her.

"He just doesn't understand, Gin. Ignore him. It's what I do all the time." They giggled conspiratorially and launched into an in-depth conversation about the Paris plans.

"Where's Richard tonight?" Ron asked Harry.

"Staying at Jamie's."

"Are Sirius and Narcissa not coming, then?" Molly asked, serving up cups of tea.

"Sirius should be meeting us at the stadium. Narcissa's not feeling too well."

"Well enough to keep an eye on Richard and Jamie, though," said Hermione. "They've been put on their best behaviour for her."

"What about Maura?" Ron asked. "She wasn't at the station earlier. Is she coming?"

"It's a shame she missed seeing Deirdre off on the train for the last time," Ginny commented.

"I know," replied a new voice. They all turned to see Maura herself leaning against the doorframe. "I was in Australia."

"What were you doing in Australia?" Draco asked curiously.

"Oh, I remember!" Hermione cut in. "You were guest speaker at their Ministry gala. How did it go?"

"Not too bad. I didn't give what you'd call a rousing speech, but I bloody well hate public speaking. Don't know why people keep asking me to do it. I wasn't even their first choice. Harry was."

"I said no when they told me the date," he replied.

"Well Deirdre accepted on my behalf," Maura said. "Before thinking to ask when it was."

"Well, she definitely got on the train," Ron told her. "Saw her with my own two eyes."

"She didn't run off to Bali?" Maura asked. "Shame. I never get postcards."

"Hey!" Ginny protested. "We sent you one from New York!"

Maura snickered. "In which you neglected to mention that you'd got married."

"Only a minor detail we didn't think you'd be interested in," Draco replied.

"Well," Molly cut in. "We were."

Ginny smiled reassuringly at her mother, knowing how much her elopement to New York had hurt Molly. Before anyone could say anything, a loud explosion in the garden made them all jump a foot in the air.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Fred's voice said with a cough through a thick cloud of smoke.

"Fred Weasley!" Molly shouted angrily. "I thought I'd seen the last of your ridiculous experiments and explosions when you left home!"

Fred emerged from the smoke and whirled his mother around. He pecked her cheek.

"Evening Mum!"

"Where is that brother of yours? I spent ages trying to clean New Improved Chocolate Frogs from my ceiling-"

"I know, I know!" Fred said with a frustrated sigh. "I've already been informed that the new prototype jumps too high!"

Ron, Deanna, Hermione and Harry all nodded solemnly. A moment later, George emerged from the smoke with his wife Jade.

"Hello all! Having a good time?"

"Smashing, George, old man!" Fred replied effusively before turning to his mother. "When are we heading over to the stadium?"

"Not yet, dear," Molly said. "Plenty of time yet. Your father isn't back from work yet."

"At this hour?" George asked with a genuine frown. "He works too hard."

"Some silly fool charmed an underground train on the Northern Line so that it didn't stop at the Barbican station. Arthur's having to do all sorts of paperwork. Honestly, the things people think to do these days!" Molly did not sound impressed.

"I've got twenty galleons riding on the Cannons," Ron told them confidently. Molly sighed.

"I don't think it's right you should gamble with so much money, Ron."

"It's not like I don't have the money, Mum," he said. She sighed again and the gap between Molly and her children when it came to money widened a little more.

"I don't understand how you can be so frivolous sometimes," she said. Ron smiled charmingly at her and hugged her.

"Mum, you don't have to worry about money anymore. None of us do. Let's enjoy it while we can."

"It's not a question of enjoying it, it's a question of wasting it."

***

The blonde woman pulled her bag out of the overhead compartment, ignoring the rather annoyed stares of other passengers behind her waiting to get off the plane. She sashayed down the aisle, pausing only to glibly thank the flight attendants as she stepped off the aircraft, through Heathrow Airport and onto British soil for the first time in over ten years.

She was unassuming in appearance. Of average height and weight, she had neither striking good looks nor a magnetic personality. As she passed through the throng of people milling around in the airport either coming or going, she struck nobody's attention. Had she done so, she would not have noticed, being far too concerned about her destination. She fought her way towards the underground station, jumped on a train and sat down as it clattered its way towards London.

Six hours away up the M6, Harry Potter awoke with a start after one of the worst nightmares he'd had in years. A moment later, his alarm clock went off.

"Harry?" Hermione asked with a yawn. "Are you all right, sweetheart?"

"I... Yes," he said decisively, shaking vague images from his head. "What are you doing today?"

"I have a-" yawn "meeting with my editor at Obscurus then I said I'd meet Maura for lunch. Then I have another meeting with my editor at MalFolio."

"Maura's coming to England?" he asked.

"Yes, she does do that, Harry."

"I know that. It just seems unusually sociable for Maura to go anywhere for lunch."

"Well you know what she's like in the first few weeks of term. She hates being in that big house all on her own."

"True. So you're part of the Keep Maura Sane committee?"

"The chairperson," she said with a smile and another yawn. She rolled onto her side and looked out of the window at the bright September morning. "Harry..."

"Yup?"

"When do you have to get to the bar?"

"Not for a while."

"That's good. That's very good."

***

"Sorry I'm late, Maura!" apologised Hermione as she slid into a chair at Madam Sinta's Coffee Bean Emporium- the very best place on Diagon Alley for coffee and lunch. "I was kept late with my editor."

"S'all right. Was late too."

"Have you ordered?"

"Not yet. Waited for you."

"OK." Hermione waved over to a waiter for a menu. She nodded for him to wait.

"Why do you want a menu Hermione?" asked Maura. "You always get the same thing."

"Oh, I'm going to get something different today."

"Oh yeah?" Maura raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Yeah," Hermione replied with a grin. "I'll have... the... turkey salad. But not the salad cream."

"Yes, Mrs Potter. And to drink?" the waiter asked.

"Pumpkin juice, thanks."

"Miss Richards?"

"Burger with bacon, extra onion, extra tomato, extra sauce and chips," she said without a pause.

"To drink?"

"You guys got any Coke in?"

"I'm afraid not."

"OK. I'll have that Turkish coffee I had the other day."

"Right. We'll have that ready for you in a moment." The waiter headed away to the kitchen.

"You eat like a student, Maura."

"And?"

"You eat... well, crap. How you don't weigh twenty stone I don't know."

"Luck, innit? At least I like what I eat."

"I like what I eat," Hermione said, taking umbrage at what Maura was hinting at.

"You don't like turkey salad. You wanted a large bowl of spaghetti with Sinta's Secret Sauce. But you've decided you need to lose weight today so you'll eat rabbit food instead."

"That's not true," Hermione argued, not really sounding convinced herself.

"Yeah right."

"Let's talk about something else."

"You're not fat, Hermione."

"I know."

"In fact, you look positively scrawny-"

"Maura."

"Fine, fine. How's Harry. Was he late to work as well?"

"I wasn't-"

"You were!" You'd only get held late by your editor if you turned up late to begin with. You can't lie to me, I'm far too cynical and I know you too well."

"Yes, well," Hermione turned slightly red, finding it odd that she had been married for many years, had three children and still found it embarrassing to talk to one of her best friends about sex. Fortunately, her salad turned up and she had a new excuse to stay quiet. It was nice enough, but not quite as wonderful as Madam Sinta's famous pasta sauce. Maura was right- she was feeling a little fat today. Not that she felt hugely overweight, but last night surrounded by beautiful women like athletic Angelina, graceful Jade and stylish Deanna, she had felt a little... old. Something inside wasn't really as bothered about feeling fat as feeling old. Perhaps it was that she hadn't had a really good adventure for some time. She'd become so accustomed to having some life-threatening adventure once a year at school that the sixteen years since sometimes seemed very dull indeed.

Such thoughts briefly left her mind as she felt a pair of eyes seemingly burning into the back of her head. She whipped around in her seat, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Something wrong?" asked Maura. Hermione shook her head.

"Just thought I saw something, that's all. How's your burger?"

***

The blonde woman looked up from her plate of steaming pasta when she was sure that Hermione Potter had turned back to face Maura. She began eating, keeping a close eye on Maura and Hermione at all times. Surveillance was the key to her plan and she couldn't jeopardise that for anything. She watched Maura and Hermione continue their lunch. When they got up to leave, she followed at a discreet distance before they went into the pub and Flooed away from her.

Her watch beeped. She had another appointment to keep.

***

To Be continued...