Daoimear de Dán: Inné agus Inniu

Chapter Four - Presents and the Press

"The Magical, Mystical, Marvellous Diamond!" The Daily Prophet, 30th June 1998.

by Eleonorina Snodgrass.

Since the end of the war and the final defeat of Voldemort, plenty of stories have been coming out about the way it was done. Of course, we all knew that Britain's own Harry Potter was behind the triumphant destruction of the demon who has done so much to us over the years.

The Daily Prophet can now bring you EXCLUSIVE news that Harry Potter was not alone in his battle with the Dark Lord and that he and some other Hogwarts students tapped into deep and ancient magic to do it.

The Daily Prophet has uncovered documents that prove that Harry Potter and his two friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, also recently of Gryffindor House and neither strangers to the gossip pages of this newspaper, were involved in a conspiracy to take ancient magic and use it to defeat Lord Voldemort. The Prophet also has proof that another friend, a Muggle no less, was also involved in the fighting.

While this newspaper takes the view that the evil had to be quashed, this newspaper also demands an explanation as to why three children and a Muggle were allowed to take the defeat of Voldemort into their young and vulnerable hands.

In the deepest depths of the Daily Prophet archives just off Diagon Alley, Katerina sipped at her coffee, and flicked to the next article.

"Dumbledore Speaks!", The Daily Prophet, 2nd July 1998

Albus Dumbledore, interview by Peggory Greck.

In another Daily Prophet EXCLUSIVE, we can bring you the official word from Hogwarts' headmaster on the many rumours and claims flying around Magical Britain in the last few days.

Albus Dumbledore is the sort of fellow that commands respect, even to a cynical old hack like me. I think it's the eyes peering over the glasses, eyes that have seen things in one hundred and fifty years that youngsters of seventy-six such as myself can hardly even imagine. The normally genial headmaster is hardly in the best of moods thanks to the nonsensical rumours of conspiracy theories, murder/suicide pacts and claims that children were used as wand fodder for the Death Eaters.

PG: Might as well ask it outright, Albus: Did you use children to fight the Death Eaters?

AD: Ministry law states that wizards and witches reach majority at seventeen. However, Ministry law also states in Section 1, sub-section 232, paragraph 133.2, entitled "Special Permissions During Attacks On Magical British Educational Establishments 1721, revised 1822" states that anyone over the age of fourteen may, if they give written permission, defend their school from attack by anyone. We were fortunate to need only a small number of our Fourth and Fifth year students in very minor roles. Nobody was forced or coerced into doing anything in my school.

PG: What about Harry Potter and his friends? Rumours are swirling around about the ancient and mysterious Order of Phoenix and-

AD: I shall stop you there, my old friend. The Order of the Phoenix is certainly ancient, although how much it is mysterious is in the eye of the beholder.

PG: That doesn't answer my question.

AD: No, it does not. I have consulted with the people involved, and I am able to tell you that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Maura Richards were instrumental, entirely instrumental, in the final defeat of Voldemort. They formed something called the Diamond, which like many of the rumours have said, channelled old and powerful magic. Ancient magic. Through their shared bond they were able to destroy our old enemy once and, thankfully, for all.

PG: I'm surprised you told us this.

AD: The point of a deterrent is that it deters people, and so we must make it known. So now I announce that these fine young men and women borrowed the most ancient of magic and by giving it back freely, earned the right to use it again. They will have no doubts about uniting to fight evil again. The Diamond are, in my opinion, a great beacon of hope and protection for the world. Something we did not have last time until the very end. I try to learn from our mistakes.

PG: What say you to the arguments that Harry Potter and his friends were too young to shoulder such responsibility?

AD: Harry himself said it to me: he's been facing mortal peril at least once a year since he was a child of eleven. Such things force a boy to grow up. The same thing happened to his friends, I am so very sad to say. They were more than capable. Harry Potter was destined to face Voldemort and he did so with bravery and dignity. Most of all, he did the job he intended to do.

PG: How do you feel now that the war is over?

AD: I intend to retire within the next two years. Professor McGonagall will take over from me. Now that Voldemort is gone, my time at Hogwarts is winding up. I shall retire to a nice quiet little cottage with a spinning wheel and a loom.

PG: Why a spinning wheel and a loom?

AD: I find a person can never have too many socks.

Katerina noted the name Dumbledore- it had come up a number of times before in her research. Then, with a yawn and another sip of her coffee, she flicked to another article.

"How Not To Have It All", The Daily Prophet, 22nd November 2003

by Hermione Granger.

I've often wondered how women who 'have it all' do it all. Even for witches there are only twenty-four hours in a day (Time Turners? Been there, done that, got the headache.) and we still have to 'do it all'. I found myself a few days ago looking into a mirror at the age of *cough* twenty-four, mother-of-two, columnist for not one but two publications, published fact and fiction author, wife of a living legend and owner of a little red car.

I am inordinately proud of my car. It's my link to the Muggle world and it's still the best way of transporting two incredibly fussy children to the shops when they just won't Floo. Which of course, they just never will. On Friday, it broke down. I know nothing about cars, Harry knows even less and a close friend's advice extended so far as "kick it and see what happens."

So I had to find the phone number of a mechanic willing to drive up to our house, but not being fully connected to the Muggle world these days, it's easier said than done. When he got there, the mechanic took one look at me, the t-shirt I was wearing that had bits of children's breakfast on it, the two screeching children and mentally put his prices up fifty percent. Had Harry been there, all manly and appearing like he might know what the mechanic was talking about, I might not have had to fork over so much money for something probably quite minor.

I didn't even have much sterling in the house- I even tried my friend Maura, who living in Ireland, only has the Euro these days. Typical. So there I was, two screeching children, mucky t-shirt, broken car, being stiffed by a mechanic and still no milk in the house.

I should also mention that at this point (10:15, Friday Morning), I had a full six thousand words of articles and columns to write and the hero of the western world was fifteen minutes late for taking the girls so I could get those six thousand words written.

It was at this point that I made a stunningly obvious observation: I can 'have it all', but my own sanity will be the victim. Still, worse things happen at sea.

Katerina snickered and sipped her coffee again.

***

Hermione woke up with a sore neck, as she did when Harry didn't disturb her from where she'd fallen asleep in her study. At some point, he'd come in and put a blanket over her and turned off the light, but that didn't stop the pain in her neck. She'd been up late and couldn't imagine when he'd actually got home.

A cursory glace at the clock told her it was well past breakfast time, and so she went downstairs to make sure Harry and Richard had left in good time and good order. The kitchen looked like a flour bomb had hit it- bowls with sludgy stuff in them were dotted around the room, spoons and forks and bits of eggshell cluttered the surfaces and the cold tap had been left dripping.

In the midst of all this mess was a note: "Richard wanted to make breakfast. Didn't have time to clean up. Sorry. See you later. H."

With a barely controlled growl, Hermione turned on the hot tap and reached for the first bits of washing up. She would have some Enervating Hot Chocolate soon- but she had to clean up to get to it.

***

Katerina had been reading through the archives for Diamond-related articles for twelve hours. She had paused only for the occasional break and was now almost up-to-date with current news. In twelve hours, she had read through fifteen years' worth of life played out in public.

She realised that these magical people were heartened every time something nice happened to the Diamond- Harry and Hermione's perfect marriage tied up one half of the Diamond, Ron was kept happy by his shaman work and his pretty children and Maura... nobody knew much about her, but they supposed she was content to be a part of the Diamond. Every time something nice happened, the world sighed a little sigh of relief, knowing that the Diamond was safe and so therefore, were they.

***

In that case, the magical world might have furrowed a collective brow at the tense situation the Diamond found themselves in one evening. A week after his trip to Monaco and back, Harry Potter was late for dinner with his wife and his friends. So too, was Maura.

"He's probably had to fill in paperwork for the ministry," Ron told Hermione. "You know even better than I do the kind of nonsense bureaucracy they deal in."

"It's their stock in trade, yes, Ron. However, he is two hours late for something he arranged. I have articles to write, you know, a son to try and raise, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera-"

"I know that."

"I've got to send the latest patterns to New York," Deanna added. "The summer collection doesn't sew itself."

Hermione looked most grumpy, although not at Deanna in particular. She ran a hand through her hair, yanking hard at the tangles she found. After a growl of a sigh, she spoke again:

"Oh Deanna, go. I'm sure you'll be finished before he's even back. You mustn't put yourself out on Harry's account."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Deanna smiled gratefully and apologetically at Hermione before making a swift exit. Ron, having got himself a glass of Butterbeer, slouched down in the chair opposite his friend.

"Cheer up, Hermione," he poked her foot with his. "Could be worse."

"Yes it could, he could be out all night drinking."

Ron coughed uneasily at memories that lurked just under the surface. Memories of a 'lost weekend' spent acting like the foolish boy he'd once been.

"Hermione-"

"Don't Hermione me, Ron. I don't mind him being late, I do mind him not sending some form of communication through to me. I know he can from almost anywhere, because he has in the past. Don't stand up for him. Don't do it. You're my best friend as well, remember."

"I know. I wasn't going to stick up for him, anyway."

"Good."

They sat together in uneasy silence and allowed the clock to just tick-tock the evening away.

***

Katerina was about to call it a night and go home when, as she was putting the many parchments back, a small article hidden on page four of one caught her eye. She had missed it before, but now the black print leapt at her off the page.

"Hero Harry's All-Night Party!", The Daily Prophet, 4th December 1999.

by Salacia Slye.

The Boy Who Lived grew up to be the Boy Who Partied last night thanks to the four hundred and seventy-sixth Annual Wizards' Boat Race. Handsome Harry, 19, was part of the victorious Hogwarts Old Boys team, who beat the Salem Alumni team by a hair's breadth. Both teams followed Harry and best friend Ron Weasley to The Leaky Cauldron for a celebratory jar or six before moving onto, rumour has it, a Muggle nightclub called Chinawhite. Harry was finally seen shuffling towards the Cauldron's fireplace at a mind-boggling quarter past nine the next morning. New wife Hermione, who he married in August, is rumoured to be staying at a friend's house in retaliation for Harry's wild behaviour of late. Sort it out, Harry!

Katerina grinned and made a very careful note of what she'd read.

***

The sound of the back door slamming shut woke Hermione up. For a moment she blinked, trying to get her bearings, when she realised that she had fallen asleep on the sofa and the weight on her shoulder was Ron's head.

"Harry, is that you?" she called out, moving off the sofa. She found Harry leaning heavily against the fridge drinking straight out of a milk carton. "Whatever have you been doing all this time?"

He mumbled something incomprehensible through the milk.

"I'm so tired, Hermione," he said, and his expression and posture certainly confirmed this.

"You were supposed to have dinner with Ron, Dee and Maura, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah. Well, Maura had a lead about Katerina. Someone's been buying some dodgy books in Covent Garden."

"Dodgy books?"

"So dodgy that the owner contacted the Ministry. He was worried he'd sold someone the wrong stuff."

"And?"

"And it was nothing. Sod all. Less than that. Turned out that the bloke's wife owned the shop and he was trying to get back at her for some argument or another. Hours we wasted on it."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.

"I'm sorry I ruined your evening," he said in such a way that sounded like he wasn't sorry at all."

"Ron is still here. He fell asleep. You can be the one to wake him up and point him in the direction of the fire."

Harry shrugged and put the carton back before he shuffled into the front room. Immediately, Hermione took the empty carton out of the fridge and threw it in the bin. With a last yawn, she went to bed.

***

It was harder than getting access to the Daily Prophet archive, but after a few days' discreet negotiation, Katerina was granted access to the Witch Weekly archive. The story she'd given was research on make-up charms and their side effects. The real reason was her usual reason.

"Potterlets Go To School!" Witch Weekly, 25th August 2011.

In one week's time, the eldest of Harry and Hermione Potter's children will be heading off to Hogwarts for the very first time. Only time will tell what house Lilyella and Kit, 11, will end up in, but I think people have a pretty good idea! Homesickness shouldn't be a problem for the pretty Potter girls: their friends Paul and Rain Weasley and Flynn Malfoy will be joining them in their first year, while family friends are already at the school.

It's thought that both Harry and Hermione and Ron Weasley will accompany the girls to Kings Cross on 1st September to see them off on the Hogwarts Express. Maura Richards will also be in attendance- she'll be seeing off her daughter Deirdre for her fourth year in Gryffindor.

Katerina made a few notes about the pictures of the girls- they looked as she thought- Kit, the one who looked like Harry and Lilyella, the one who looked more like Hermione. Then, she put the magazine back and changed tack: She would investigate Hogwarts. Then, to dreams.

***

"Kit!" Rain called as Kit slouched into the Great Hall five minutes before the end of breakfast one rainy morning. "You're so late!"

"There's some post for you as well," said Paul between mouthfuls of food.

"I couldn't get to sleep all last night," Kit grumbled, rubbing her forehead.

"Why?" asked Rain between bites of bacon.

"No idea. I just felt... weird, I don't know. What is this?" Kit's attention was now drawn to the little box on the table.

"That came for you in the mail," Ella told her.

"I've got one as well," Deirdre chipping from where she was sat with the other Seventh years. "I haven't opened it yet."

"Well, we don't have time now," Ella said firmly. "Time for class."

"Oh," snapped Kit irritably. "Snape can wait thirty naffing seconds for me to open it." She ripped the wrapping from the box and threw it carelessly onto the table.

"A Gramo-gram?" she asked, reading the label. "Who'd send me a Gramo-gram?"

"It's not me," her sister told her, echoed quickly by Rain, Paul and Deirdre, who had discovered that her box also contained a Gramo-gram.

"I bet it's some prank by Flynn," growled Kit, looking over at the Slytherin table. She opened the box and a miniature gramophone horn popped out of the top. Normally such gags had recordings of music or jokes made by the sender. This voice was not of a fourteen-year-old Malfoy.

"Watch your back, Baby Potter," the harsh, female voice said, crackling slightly. "You and your precious sister should look out for the things that go bump in the night. You have been warned."

Kit dropped the Gramo-gram like a hot potato and it fell onto the table with a clatter. She looked up at her friends.

"Not from Flynn then," she said, all the blood draining from her face as she spoke. She felt terribly light-headed and was worried she might actually faint.

"What's on yours, Deirdre?" asked Lilyella, ever-sensible as always, but clearly petrified by this new development.

"Here," Deirdre opened her box and an identical gramophone popped out.

"Your time is coming, little Deirdre," the same voice cooed most menacingly. "You're not even meant to exist, but don't you worry that pretty little red head of yours, I'm going to sort it all out for you and your darling mama. I'm going to put everything right. You'll see."

"Why aren't you all going to lessons?" The shadow of Professor Snape fell over the scared little foursome as his sneering, displeased voice brought them back to the reality of Hogwarts. "You should be in my classroom right now. With the exception of you, Miss Richards. You should be setting an example for the younger students of punctuality."

"Yes sir," she mumbled quietly.

"Oh, Professor Snape?" Kit asked. He sighed, probably expecting one of her famous excuses. He swore Sirius was teaching them to her.

"Yes, Potter?" he asked. She said nothing, but instead started up her Gramo-gram again. The rarely ruffled deputy head-teacher looked extremely unnerved when the message finished.

"When did this arrive?" he demanded, picking it up and examining it closely.

"This morning, sir," Lilyella said. "Deirdre got one too."

"You two, follow me," he instructed curtly, before stalking out of the Great Hall, black robes billowing behind him.

***

The Headmistress was most concerned by this turn of events, most concerned indeed. The two Gramo-grams were sat on her desk, while Deirdre and Kit sat in the chairs Kit was more used to sitting in to be chastised for bickering with Flynn Malfoy. Professor Snape had barely taken the time to explain the situation to Professor McGonagall before rushing off somewhere. Now Professor McGonagall handed the two girls biscuits in an attempt to set them more at ease.

"We've contacted your parents and the relevant people," she told the still ashen-faced Kit and Deirdre. "You're sure you don't recognise the owls who brought the boxes?"

"I didn't," replied Deirdre.

"I was late to breakfast, Professor. It was waiting for me when I got there," admitted Kit. Professor McGonagall nodded gravely, quietly noting Kit's tired face.

"Do you recognise the voice?" she asked. Both girls shook their heads.

"Perhaps the Order will be able to solve this mystery," McGonagall mused.

"The Order?" Deirdre asked immediately. She received nothing but an enigmatic smile in return. A moment later, Harry Potter appeared in the fireplace, a Harry's Bar glass and tea towel in his hand. He'd clearly come as immediately as he could.

"What's going on?" he demanded, brushing soot from his cloak. Before Professor McGonagall could begin, Maura Richards stepped out of the fire, absolutely covered in mud.

"What's going on?" she demanded, unwittingly echoing Harry. McGonagall quickly recounted the girls' story. Harry and Maura shared a look of great concern.

"Sounds like Order business," Harry said. Kit and Deirdre were dying to know what they were talking about, but said nothing.

"I want to hear it," Maura said. Kit grabbed her Gramo-gram and started it up.

When the Gramo-gram had finished, Kit looked up. Maura looked like she'd heard a ghost. In fact, nobody in the room had ever seen her react as she did now. She had a death grip on the mantelpiece above the fire as if her life depended on it, and her breath came quickly, shallowly.

"Mum?" Deirdre asked, more terrified by her mother's reaction than the Gramo-gram. Harry got out of his seat and moved over to Maura. She opened her eyes and stared wild-eyed at her daughter.

"Play yours. You said you got one. Play it," she said harshly. Deirdre, a little scared, did so. When it was done, Maura's shock was replaced with burning anger.

"I'll kill her. I will rip her fingers off one by one, tear her arms and legs off, pluck her eyelashes out and then I'll kill her," Maura growled in a rather barmy-sounding voice.

"Do you know whose voice that is?" Harry asked her, now guiding her into a chair. As he sat her down, Maura's cold blue eyes met his warm green eyes.

"It's Katerina. My best friend."

There fell a shocked, uneasy silence. Harry attempted to find a reason for Maura's old friend to have reappeared in their lives, and the other three wondered who this Katerina could possibly be.

"Maura... you should get yourself cleaned up," Harry said, firmly in hero-mode. "I don't even want to know what you've been doing."

Maura looked down at her mud-caked clothes and smiled slightly. "I've been trying to look after Deirdre's flowers. Hasn't really worked out."

"Well, take Deirdre home and clean up. We'll meet you at HQ."

"Are you going to get Hermione?" Maura asked. Harry sighed at this new cog in his rapidly forming plan.

"I should do, yeah. Meet you there, all right?"

"Will do. Come on Red, things to do, people to maim."

Deirdre obediently followed her mother into Professor McGonagall's fire and together they Flooed away to Connaught Manor.

"Minerva," Harry said. "I want to take Kit and Ella to the HQ. I think they need to be brought up to speed."

"Very well," she said with a nod. She summoned Dobby and asked him to fetch Lilyella Potter. After a few moments of Harry Potter-worship by the elf, he was off.

"Daddy," Kit asked in a small voice. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you soon, sweetheart," he said, putting the two Gramo-grams into his cloak pocket. He turned back to the Headmistress, "I'll talk to the rest of the Diamond, and we'll discuss where to go from here."

"All right," she replied. "Kit, I will inform your teachers that you're excused from lessons for the rest of the day."

"No Potions? Result!"

"Kitty!" Harry tried to sound displeased, but the memory of his own Potions lessons were still a little too fresh to sound convincing. A moment later Lilyella burst into the office.

"What's going on? Dad, what are you doing here? Is this about Kit's Gramo-gram? Where did Deirdre go?"

"I'll explain everything," Harry told her. "For now, we'll Floo to the bar, all right?"

"The bar?" asked Kit. "Why are we going there?"

"All will become clear in due course. Minerva, I'll try to have them back in time for dinner. If not, I'll owl you."

Professor McGonagall nodded and watched with a worried expression as Harry and his daughters Flooed away. It was only after they'd gone that she discovered her floor was spattered with mud and she'd just acquired a Harry's Bar glass and tea towel.

***

Kit and Ella had never been downstairs at their father's bar before. They were aware of the stone spiral staircase at the back of the stockroom, but something- magic perhaps- had made them keep their distance. Even as small children playing games while Harry worked, they had never gone down the stairs. Something tacit and vague had stopped them. So to now be taken down those same steps after a strange morning was odd to the extreme.

Now she was old enough to understand the references, Lilyella thought Harry's to be a lot like Rick's in Casablanca. The same kind of odd, wildly disparate clientele, the same enigmatic host. As they went down with Harry, the twins wondered what awaited them. Portraits lined the walls of the stairwell, mostly of members of their extended family, including one of six-year-old Lilyella sat watching as Dung Fletcher swung Kit around by her ankles, and another of Tonks cradling a baby Jamie Black. The steps came to an end in such a small room (Lilyella thought it was more like an ante-chamber, but Kit thought of it as a room) that Kit had to remain on the stairs while her father inserted his wand into the lock of a steel door set into the wall. The twins heard him mumble something, although it was not loud enough to be distinct. The lock slid open loudly, Harry removed his wand and held the door open for the twins.

It reminded them of a set in the James Bond films Harry was so fond of. A vast array of sneakoscopes, foe glasses and other equipment were in action on one side of the room while the other side of the room was taken up by a bank of computers working under both electrical and magical power. A few people moved here and there, clearly involved in some sort of administrative activity.

"Girls," Harry said "this is the everyday headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Both girls' mouths dropped open. The HQ of an order so secret and yet so famous that it was considered a fantastic myth was in the cellar of their father's bar?

"Hello girls!" Their mother had arrived and looked as concerned as Harry had when he arrived at Hogwarts. "Take a seat, don't be shy."

The twins found a couple of space-age looking chairs and sat down.

"For a long time, I wondered what I was meant to do with my life," Harry explained, dropping into a seat opposite them. "When you were born, I decided to put a career on hold and take care of you. Hermione was able to work on her writing that way. Then when you were five and went off to school, I was approached by the rest of the Order as to becoming an Auror. It was something I'd wanted to do, but I was so recognisable that I'd never be any good at undercover operations. That is unless nobody thought I was an Auror."

"You're an Auror?" Ella asked.

"Not exactly. The Order is affiliated with the Ministry, but we don't answer to them. In the last ten years we've become a kind of independent, international magical law-enforcement agency. We employ all kinds of people, mostly doing surveillance work to keep an eye on known and suspected magical criminals. We arrest them when we need to as well. We don't want to give another Voldemort the chance to rise up."

"So all the times you were all doing something for the bar?" asked Ella. Her father beamed at her.

"Almost always a show. We work with Ministry Aurors to bring in lawbreakers. About half the British Aurors are Order members or employees."

"Hang on a minute!" Kit demanded suddenly. "Are you saying that you're in the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry smiled at her. So easily impressed, he thought.

"Yes. So is your mother. We have been since we were at school, but it was a very different sort of thing back then."

Kit and Ella could not have been more surprised or filled with more respect and admiration for their parents. They knew of their work during the war with Ron and Maura and that they were supposedly some sort of cosmic team, but this- this was momentous!

Before Harry or Hermione could answer any of the twins' many questions, Maura and Deirdre came in, the latter looking as overwhelmed as the twins.

"Sorry we're late," said Maura. "What did we miss?"

"The obligatory jaw-dropping," Harry said with a grin. Hermione coughed.

"If we could continue? I believe our daughters received death threats this morning?"

"Well, she didn't actually say-" Kit started, only to be silenced by a stern look from her mother.

"It was Katerina," Maura said. "I... I never kept much of an eye on her. Didn't think a Muggle like her could really pose a risk."

"If she's a Muggle, how did she get hold of a Weasley Wheeze?" Deirdre asked.

"A good question," Hermione said. "Any ideas, anybody?"

"Not right away," Harry said, "Hermione, get hold of the Intelligence offices in America, maybe they've heard something. If that doesn't yield much, we can move on to Intelligence elsewhere."

"Any idea where in America?" Hermione asked Maura as she scribbled furiously on a roll of oddly-coloured parchment. Maura shook her head.

"I'll get hold of the Guardians," she replied, going for another sheet of parchment. "Maybe they know."

"We should owl Carmen in Boston to give her some warning," Harry said. "I'll get hold of Tonks and Kingsley."

"Find Sirius as well," Hermione said rather coldly. "I want to know why we didn't know she was back until she's sending my children presents."

"Fine, fine. I think he's in Paris with Narcissa," said Harry with a sigh. "He'll be annoyed, but I'll track him down."

Deirdre, Kit and Ella sat in shocked silence as their parents- people they knew really only as figures demanding tidy rooms and early bedtimes- kicked into action.

"Harry, ask Kingsley to put someone on the entrance to Diagon Alley! She can only be getting in that way," Hermione called to him, the quietly confident voice she used to help with homework now assigned to this.

"Will do. Maura, when can you see your Guardians?"

"When do you want?"

"Now would be nice."

"Right." Maura scrunched up the sheet of parchment she'd been scrawling on and tossed it behind her.

"And send out the call to the Inner Circle. I don't care what they're doing, get them here," Harry added in the sort of commanding voice the girls had never really heard before. "And if Draco Malfoy complains about us cutting into his precious schedule, tell him to put his complaint in writing."

Maura, Hermione and the Order employees that had begun to gather on seeing their leaders there working hard all laughed. Deirdre, Kit and Ella shared a sort of amused look. Draco Malfoy was in the famous Order of the Phoenix?

After about five minutes, the three girls were noticed again by Maura. She muttered to Harry for a moment. He looked hard at the girls, then nodded. Maura went over to them.

"I'll take you back to the castle before going to Kilburn," she told them. "And when you get there, don't even think about going for a nice evening stroll or a wander down to Hogsmeade."

The three, a little stunned by Maura's seriousness, just nodded and followed her mutely out of the HQ and back up the stone stairs.

***

Once Sirius returned from Paris, all the members of the Inner Circle of the Order of the Phoenix assembled as they always did when the magical world, the Diamond especially, was in danger.

"What can you tell us about Katerina, Maura?" Sirius asked. She shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of these powerful magicians. She had been made an honorary member of the Inner Circle after the war, but being a Muggle, she felt rather inferior to these people and always worried that they looked down on her. Not, of course, that she ever let it show.

"She's the skeleton in my closet, the gristle in my teeth, the fly in my soup, the stray hair in my sandwich. She's.... She's my past sins."

"We really meant details to help fight her," said Snape curtly. She sighed.

"You need to understand what happened to her to understand why we're in this position," Hermione cut in. Maura shot her a grateful smile.

"It's OK, Hermione," Maura replied. "Katerina could've forgiven me for falling in love with George, she could've possibly forgiven me marrying him and bearing him a child. What she couldn't forgive was me killing him."

"You didn't kill him," Harry interrupted.

"Tell her that," Maura shot back. "Hell, if I were her, I'd have come for my revenge years ago."

"Yeah, but we all know you've got no patience," joked Ron in an attempt to lighten the proceedings. Maura laughed harshly.

"That's true. She's good at patience. If I remember right, and I do, she's a perfectionist with an eye for every conceivable detail and the patience to find those details."

"You think she'll be a challenge?" asked Tonks. Most of the people around the table looked like they thought a Muggle would be an easy opponent.

"I know her. I knew her," Maura corrected herself. "She can be so single-minded she'll think of nothing else until she gets what she wants, what she's after. A good ally to have, but a bloody awful enemy."

"Oh, I don't know," said Harry. "It's been a while since we had a really good villain to fight. Do us good."

She didn't return his smile.

"She was my friend once. My only friend. What am I meant to do?"

"Fight her like anyone else who threatens your daughter," Hermione said immediately.

Maura smiled grimly, "Good answer."

"What did your Guardians say?" asked McGonagall, efficient as ever, and possibly eager to get back to the school.

"Practically nitto. They stopped keeping a close eye on her a few years ago. They did say she'd been in Salem, but that was all they knew. As far as they knew she was living a quiet, obscure life as a waitress."

"In reality, she was probably plotting," added Harry. The members of the Inner Circle just nodded.

"The odd things that have been happening here and there might be related to Katerina. Susan Bones' wand for one thing," Ron cut in. "Harry's been concentrating on those wizards in Monte Carlo, but what if it's closer to home?"

Soft mutterings punctuated the air as the Inner Circle contemplated the possibilities of a Muggle using a magic wand.

"It would certainly explain how she got into Diagon Alley undetected," added Fred Weasley.

"We've been checking our orders," George continued, "although we've sold thousands of Gramo-grams in the last few months. Could've been anyone."

"Right," said Sirius, trying to pull the meeting back into control. "Draco, get your team to get details of every unsolved crime in the last six months. Some of the unusual stuff too. Kingsley, Tonks, get our people out on the Alley. Nobody goes in or goes out without us knowing about it. Least fuss, obviously. Maura, write up something on Katerina, a sort of crib sheet for the rest of us. Severus, make sure the school is secure-"

"Black, Hogwarts is always secure," Snape interrupted. Everyone but Snape and Sirius rolled their eyes.

"Just the same. This Katerina character has brought children into it, and I don't think any of us want to risk their security. Do we?"

Snape admitted not.

"Right, Remus, you can do that as well- the students will get suspicious if you're both absent from the school too long."

"It would also be nice to track her down. She must be staying somewhere," said Harry. Sirius nodded.

"Kingsley, have the Muggle intelligence team investigate. Start in London and work outwards."

"Could take awhile," Kingsley pointed out.

"So it takes awhile," Sirius said with a shrug. "Now, lastly... it's Dumbledore's birthday soon and he's under the weather. Who wants to bake the cake?"

***

Harry Potter and Maura Richards had not imagined spending their Friday night wandering the dark streets of west London, but there they found themselves.

"I know it's around here somewhere," she said, squinting up at a street sign.

"I can't believe you got us lost," he snorted with laughter. "How long did you live around here?"

"Seventeen or so years. A long time ago. Let's take a tour of Little Snoreing next, shall we, and see how you do?"

"Little Whinging."

"Whatever."

"Is this it?" Harry pointed his lit wand up at a streetname on the side of the end house. Maura nodded and squared her shoulders.

"This is it. Number twenty six is Katerina's mother's house. Number nineteen is Casa Kennealy."

Harry grabbed her hand impulsively and gave it a squeeze.

"There might not be anyone in," he told her. She shrugged and tugged him along the street.

Number twenty six proved to be a waste of time.

"It's been split into flats," she said, examining the set of doorbells. "And none of the names match. Katerina's family must've moved."

"These things do happen, but it was worth a look."

Maura nodded. "We'll have to find some other way of finding her."

"Kingsley's lot are on it. Shouldn't take that long."

"Yeah, right."

"Come on, let's go home," Harry suggested. They continued walking down the street until they came to number twenty. The opposite house drew Harry's attention, for he was interested in seeing something of Maura's young life- the place that had made her that sharp, cold creature of old. Maura stayed on the even-numbered side of the road, but he went over. The curtains were open and he could see right into the house. An elderly couple were sat watching television while two little toddlers played contentedly with some toys on the floor. After a few moments, Maura's curiosity got the better of her.

"That's my parents," she whispered. "The children must be-"

She stopped as a tall man entered the living room with a tea tray.

"That's my brother Gene. He got tall. They must be his children."

At that moment, Gene saw the people stood outside. He put the tray down and rushed to the front door. By the time he got there, Maura and Harry were gone. He forgot about the mysterious people outside the house.

***

Harry had Apparated back to HQ with Maura. It was a risky thing to Apparate with someone, but he'd been all right.

"Are you OK?" he asked her. She sat down sullenly and did not answer.

"Looked happy, didn't they?" she mumbled after a moment.

"They looked like they could've been anyone at all."

"I always hoped that the family missed me when I just buggered off... but they didn't. They were glad to be shot of me, I reckon."

"I bet that's not true."

"I bet it is. I was horrible to them. They were horrible to me."

"Things worked out as they were meant to. You found us, remember?"

"Yeah."

"We'll find Katerina, we'll sort her out and we can all go back to our happy, quiet lives."

"I don't like the quiet," she said, cracking the slightest of smiles. He grinned back.

"I know you don't," With a glance at the clock, he held his hand out to her. "It's late. I'll sort a Portkey out for you. When you get home, actually go to sleep, will you? Don't sit up watching Malvision Three."

"OK."

Impulsively, Maura kissed him on the cheek. "You're a good mate, Harry."

"So are you."

She took the offered Portkey and went home to bed.

***

Katerina eagerly opened her post that day, for a sought after parcel had arrived containing an enchanted mirror. It allowed her to use any other mirror as a kind of surveillance system. She could go out and use her new mirror to look through the other at what was going on. It was an essential tool, she thought, for the plan she'd devised. In the meantime, she was going to speed up her main plan, having grown tired of waiting for things to unfold.

She had not used her Dream Bowl for some time, but now returned to it with a few added ingredients. She was tired of waiting for her potion to garner her results and hoped to speed things up by directly interfering with a few dreams instead of just observing them. She sprinkled her ingredients into the bowl and waited.

***

The battlefield was stained with the blood of hundreds, but Maura had survived, just about. She trudged back towards the tents that made up her base, dragging her shield. Exhausted, she barely registered the voice behind her.

"Maura!"

"What's up, George?" she asked, turning around to see her husband of a day standing behind her. He looked battered, bloodied and exhausted.

"I just wanted to make sure I got to say goodbye to you."

"Goodbye?" she asked uncertainly, tugging at her blood-tangled hair. He nodded at her without emotion.

"Yes. No point in staying here, is there? I'm going home. Not before time, either."

"But-"

"What?"

"I thought..." she trailed off. Her heart sank like a stone in a pond.

"You thought... Oh Maura, you didn't think that.. that our marriage was anything but a formality did you?"

"No. Well. I don't know."

"I don't want to be married to you!" he exclaimed with a slight chuckle. "I only did it because we had to. So did you, surely?"

"Oh."

"I think it's best if we go our separate ways, don't you? I mean, we're not really friends, are we?"

"S'pose not, no," she said, reverting back entirely to her stony demeanour. Of course it was only a formality. Of course it was.

"George, there you are!"

Maura whirled around to see Katerina, still clean and tidy from staying away from the battle, running towards them. Or rather, towards George.

"Hello Kat. What do you want?"

"Are you all right? I was awfully worried about you!"

Maura didn't miss the point that Katerina was ignoring her. She rolled her eyes, but her sinking heart tightened painfully.

"I'm fine. Off home now, in fact," she heard George tell Kat.

"Already?"

"Sure. What else is there to do? We killed the evil thing, now I get to go home."

His casual, uncaring tone made Maura's soul hurt. She hadn't realised she had a soul, let alone one that could feel hurt like this.

"Oh," replied Katerina in a disappointed tone.

"Stay lucky, Kat," he said, flashing her a blinding smile. He merely nodded at Maura as a farewell before walking off into the distance.

"It's all your fault!" Katerina suddenly turned on Maura, face contorted with rage. She poked at her friend viciously.

"How is what my fault?"

"If you weren't so mean to everyone, he might have stayed around! I mean, it's bad enough you had to marry him, but you pushed him away so that I didn't get a chance either!"

"You wouldn't want him, Kat. I mean, he just went off barely bothering with the formalities of a goodbye," she said coldly, viciously, only vaguely aware that she was taking her anger out on the wrong person.

"You're just a jealous bitch!" Katerina screeched. "I hate you!"

Before Maura could respond to that, Katerina had run off in the same direction George had taken. Somehow in the space of five minutes, she'd managed to lose a husband she suspected she was really in love with and her best friend. The happiness at defeating the Old Enemy vanished and she was stood alone in the middle of a blood-soaked field.

***

Although she was beyond tired after a day searching for clues and for Katerina, Maura sat up in bed, eyes wide, heart thudding, blood racing. That hadn't really happened, she assured herself over and over again. It had not happened.

"Because George died," she mumbled. "before he had a chance to break your heart."

She looked blankly around her dark room trying to make sense of the dream. It had been so very real, like the ones she occasionally had of other heirs' lives that she felt sure it had to mean something.

"It means that George did not love me," she said out loud to the empty room. "It means that the only reason he married me was because he had no choice. He did not love me after all."

She sank back onto her pillows and for once in her life did not try to force her tears back.

***

Katerina stumbled away from the Dream Bowl a little deflated. A rather empty victory, she decided- the dream had been horrible for Maura, but it had been equally bad for herself, for watching George treat her so dismissively had not been a picnic. Still, one had to make sacrifices. It would all work out just right in the end.

***

"Maura isn't here?" Ron asked. He had just arrived at Ruairi House where the Diamond had intended to meet to discuss the Katerina Problem.

"No," said Hermione. "As you can see by the lack of Maura and presence of biscuits."

Ron laughed, looking down at the plateful of biscuits on the table.

"Oh well, more for me then!" he said chirpily, reaching for a HobNob.

"Am I late?" Maura stumbled- fell, more than anything- out of the fire. None of her friends really thought she could look scruffier than she usually did, but somehow she'd managed it.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry.

"You don't look well," added Hermione.

"When was the last time your hair saw a brush?" finished Ron. Maura yawned.

"Bloody awful dreams," she told them. Although Harry and Ron looked quite confused, Hermione understood.

"More Heir things?" she asked without thinking. Maura shot her a nasty look, and Harry now turned his confused expression on his wife."

"Heir things? What sort of Heir things?"

"Nothing," grumbled Maura, reaching for two biscuits at a time. "I'm just tired, I had a crap dream I could do without remembering, so why don't we get back on track?"

"Don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence that the time Katerina comes back is the time you start getting these dreams?" Hermione demanded.

"I didn't start getting them. I started remembering them," Maura amended. Harry now became increasingly agitated.

"What's going on?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, then at Maura, then back at him.

"Well, if you must know, Maura's been having dreams, or memories, of past Heirs."

"Again? More than once?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he turned on Maura. "You said it only happened occasionally!"

"I didn't tell you precisely because I didn't want you to feel bad."

Harry snorted.

"You thought I'd feel bad knowing you have dreams of my mother? And my father, presumably, if they're memories?"

"Yeah. And I did think you'd feel bad that I was getting them and you're not. It'd be like if you started dreaming of snippets of George's life."

"Do you dream of him too?" Harry sniped. Maura went pale at the fresh memory of the past night's dream.

"Yeah, but I don't always consider them a bonus."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me the truth!"

"Well you know now."

"Do you really think that's a good enough answer?"

"Enough!" shouted Ron. "We do have more important things to worry about right now than Maura's subconscious."

"Yes, quite," added Hermione in her best businesslike voice. "To the matters at hand, if we could?"

Harry glared at Maura, but sat down and turned his attention to Hermione. Maura sat down, but some of her attention lingered on her dreams. As Hermione began to talk, Maura felt increasingly agitated. After barely a few minutes, she leapt up from her chair and stumbled out of the house.

***

"Maura? Maura? Are you out here?" Harry strode through the garden in search of his friend. He had behaved rather badly with her, he now realised. She wasn't asking for dreams of his mother and she had told him about them before. More than that, he realised that it was affecting her quite badly.

"I'm here," she replied quietly, and he found her lying in the grass, staring up at the sky. He joined her without asking first.

"I'm sorry about what I said," he told her. "I'm really sorry."

"So am I. I didn't ask for these dreams, you know."

"I know that. I reacted pretty badly."

"Yes, you did. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to upset you."

"I know that too," he said quietly. "Will you... please tell me about them? You haven't told me about them much."

"The dreams?"

"Yes."

"Well... all right."

"We can extract them and use them in a Pensieve, if you like," he told her. "But I think... I think I'd rather you just told me about them for now."

"All right. I don't remember much. There was one, though, very funny. Lily, your mother... heavily pregnant with you... got these cravings for really odd things. At one point she was desperate for some KP dry roasted peanuts and your poor dad had to go out into Muggle London in search of dry roasted peanuts! Bloke looked absolutely harassed when he came back with this massive bag of peanuts."

"Sounds good."

"We can put them in one of those Pensieves later and you can see."

"There's nothing... I mean I know what dreams can be like... nothing a bit...

"No, I have not dreamed of your parents doing anything you would need therapy about."

"Good."

Still lying on the ground, Harry rolled over to hug Maura. She returned the hug after a moment.

"If I could let you see them instead of me, I'd do it," she mumbled.

"Harry? Maura? Are you out here?"

Hermione's head appeared over the rose bushes.

"There you are!" she said, her tone light but odd. "Coming in for coffee?"

"Yeah," said Maura, untangling from Harry's hug and sitting up. "Come on, Potter."

They hurried into the house in pursuit of fleet-footed Hermione.

***

"What's bothering you, Hermione?"

"Nothing."

"I've known you much too long to believe that," Ron told her, handing her a cup of tea. It was almost lunchtime and Hermione had joined Ron at his house so she could keep an eye on Romeo while Ron worked.

"It's really nothing," she assured him, sipping at her tea. "I'm fairly sure it's all in my mind."

"Ah, but if something is all in your mind, it can't be nothing."

"Your powers of reasoning astound me."

"Talk to me, Hermione."

"It's... Harry."

"It's always Harry."

"True. It's just... Ron, do you sometimes feel like Harry and Maura have something between them? Something we don't have?"

"Well... I..."

"I'll take the stammering and pink ears as a yes."

"They... They were together when he killed Voldemort. I guess that gives them a special bond."

"I'm not talking about that."

"Ah."

"I just... they both do Order things I'm not a part of. They like the same things on the television. They... understand each other."

"Nobody understands him better than you do," Ron said, scooting around the table to sit beside her. "Nobody. Not even me."

"Ron, I just... It's really nothing," she said briskly, sitting up straight.

"It's clearly not nothing," he told her, tugging a lock of her hair affectionately.

"It's all in my head. I know he loves me. More even than that, I know how much Maura still loves George. But... well, I'm not stupid. I know how the world can sometimes work."

Ron now hugged Hermione, stroking her hair as he did. She leaned into him tiredly.

"You don't have to worry," he assured her.

"But I do."

"Yeah, I know." He leaned away to look her in the eye. "Cheer up! You've still got me."

She laughed and rubbed at her eyes.

"Yes, I do."

"You always will, too."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

The doorbell rang, shattering the quiet peace. Upstairs, little Romeo called out for his father.

"That'll be your next job. I'll sort Romeo out," Hermione said quietly, before she ran upstairs.

***