Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter
Characters:
Harry Potter
Genres:
Mystery
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 02/19/2004
Updated: 07/29/2007
Words: 410,658
Chapters: 40
Hits: 159,304

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Barb

Story Summary:
Aunt Marge's arrival causes Harry to flee to avoid performing accidental magic again. But when number four, Privet Drive is attacked, he becomes the chief suspect and a fugitive from both the Muggle police and the Ministry. He tries going to Mrs Figg's but finds unfamiliar wizards there. With an Invisibility Cloak and nowhere to turn he hides in the house next door, to keep watch on Mrs Figg's. He has no idea that this will irrevocably alter the rest of his life....
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Chapter 26 - Doing Time

Chapter Summary:
Narcissa tells Blaise that she wants to get Draco out of prison even though they don't have the spell they want yet; Teddy, Nate and Donna perform the exorcism but run into a little trouble right afterward; Harry wishes the Carlisle brothers would just go away, only to discover that his own son and nephew constitute an even bigger disciplinary headache; and Teddy has reasons of his own for not wanting to be around the Carlisles--especially now that they want to be his friends.
Posted:
05/24/2005
Hits:
2,501

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~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Twenty-Six

Doing Time


Narcissa surprised Blaise at breakfast. The first surprising thing was that she was at breakfast, when she usually remained in their bed until past noon looking like a pile of old noodles. The second surprising thing was that she'd been keeping secrets from him, although afterward he realised that that was the last thing that should have surprised him.

"Blaise, darling," she said briskly as she buttered her toast, sounding anything but affectionate. Now she looked like a pile of old noodles that had learned to sit up. "It's high time we got Draco out. It's been over a year since you first proposed the whole insane scheme to me. The spell be damned; I want my son back."

Blaise sighed and put his coffee down. "We've been over this, Narcissa. Repeatedly. There are some books that we can't even open yet because of the protective spells that need to be broken. You've tried it yourself with no luck." Which isn't saying much, he thought. He knew that she'd seldom done her own work while she was in school; she usually got boys to do it for her in exchange for promises of favours that she usually did not grant. (When she did it was because she wanted to, not because she felt obliged to repay a debt.) She laughed about it still, all these years later, as though she'd been a schoolgirl just the day before. And while it was to his advantage that she thought she was far better preserved than she really was--he'd been taken in at first, too--it was also increasingly annoying to him. Bolstering the ego of a woman who was starting to look as worn as a crumbling Gothic cathedral was requiring him to throw up flying buttresses of compliments on a daily basis. It was getting as old as a Gothic cathedral, too. "I'm going through the books as quickly as I can. There's no point if we don't have the spell to--"

"There's no point to my son being free?" she interrupted him.

"Erm, no, darling, I didn't mean that..."

"...because I think the point is that he won't be in prison! So what if he doesn't become the next great Dark Lord? Would that be lovely? Of course it would. The power to avenge all of the wrongs we've suffered, to make over the wizarding world so that it's as it should be... But I've waited long enough, and so has Draco. Spring is coming and I want Draco to see it as a free man. I'm not waiting until high summer, I don't care how cold the journey will be. No more waiting."

He sighed again and threw his napkin onto the table. "Fine. We'll need dismiss my elves and your elf, to avoid security problems, and we'll need to do the Fidelius Charm to protect both of our homes, so that if the Ministry work out that it was us they can't find us. That's why I wanted to find that spell first..."

She smirked ever so slightly. "How do you know that I won't turn you in?"

He smirked right back at her. "Because, my future Secret Keeper, I'll be your Secret Keeper. If you doom me you doom us both." But I'll find a way to kill you first. If the Ministry are going to punish me for something, I'd like it to be something that I enjoyed a great deal, like your death.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Just a joke. But--well, I lied."

Blaise sat up straighter. "About what?"

"About the waiting. There will be a little more. First we have to go to Gibraltar."

"Erm, you're a bit geographically confused, darling. Wrong rock. We need to go to Azkaban, up north. And we need time to finish the Polyjuice Potion. Once we find the spell, I'm going to add the final ingredients..."

"Well, make loads of it, because we'll need about three or four times as much as you originally thought. And we'll have to have a new batch going at all times."

"As I said, I was going to wait until we'd found the spell..."

"Yes, after living in my house and sponging off me for more than a year," she added, her mouth twisting. "That's if you ever had any intention of getting Draco out of prison. And if this spell ever existed..."

"What, do you think now that I simply made it all up?" As though I would go through so much to get into your bed, you dried up old cow. "I'm the one who had to go to St Mungo's last time we had a problem with one of the books. Do you think I enjoyed that? And might I remind you, it's my money that's kept you from having to sell this house, so I shouldn't mention 'sponging' again if I were you," he growled softly, massaging his left hand with his right under the table; he knew that she was trying to get to him, as the skin on the back of his hand still squelched rather like a sponge and itched when he thought of his ordeal with a particularly troublesome book of dark curses.

She lifted her chin, a challenge in her eyes. "Or what?"

Taking a deep breath and counting to ten in his head, he said, "Or it might take even longer to free Draco. All right, I give up. Why do we need to go to Gibraltar?"

She went to the window, gazing out over the grounds of the largely lifeless estate. "Even though we'll each be the other's Secret Keeper we will need to go out in public now and then--in disguise--and Draco will need to go out in public in disguise as well. Before he acquires the power of those children. Plus we need someone on the inside, in the children's families, to capture the kids and make their parents pay for what they did to Lucius and Draco."

Blaise shook his head, frowning. "You've lost me. I don't see what this has to do with Gibraltar. And why bother with someone on the inside? Isn't that more dangerous? What if they refuse or can overcome Imperius? I don't want a body count too soon; don't want to tip them off."

"That's why we need the extra potion. One of us will impersonate someone on the inside. We'll use his hair for the potion and keep him prisoner. Lucius told me about another Death Eater keeping an Auror prisoner for the better part of a year, in his own trunk, using his hair for Polyjuice Potion. It can be done."

"What part of what I just said didn't you hear?" he demanded, rising and going to where she stood at the window. She didn't turn to face him but merely stood gazing out at the drab brown lawn and overgrown hedges as though she could see the estate's former splendour. "If someone goes missing this soon--"

"I heard you. No one will be going missing because he's already missing. Has been for years, and assumed dead. Lucius's work. He found it rather more amusing than killing him, but Lucius had a singular sense of humour. He also thought that he might prove useful as a hostage. After what this young man put him through, it also seemed more appropriate than letting him die, even if Lucius could have made it a good, long, slow, painful death..."

Blaise grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "What on earth are you talking about?"

She smirked again. "A certain young man who worked at the Ministry and who fled the country when Dolores Umbridge learned that he was working for Dumbledore," she said, shuddering at the name. "When he left he didn't cease to work for him. He went about the Continent recruiting wizards for 'the cause,' using his old Ministry contacts. Then he simply disappeared and was never heard from again. After he escaped from prison Lucius tracked down the wizard in Andorra--a friend tipped him off--and put a memory charm on him. There was a bit of Cruciatus first, of course, to get some information out of him."

"What did Lucius find out?" Blaise asked, finally releasing her arm; she looked like she wanted to rub it but did not.

Narcissa frowned. "Nothing. What do you expect? He was interrogating a blood-traitor. Lucius said he gave pompous speeches about not betraying his friends and family, blah blah blah. Torture didn't work and Lucius was bored. He took him off to Gibraltar--no one bothered searching for him there, as far as I know--after putting a memory charm on him. He didn't know his own name, let alone that he was a wizard and a spy. And since they speak English in Gibraltar he didn't stand out, as he would have done if Lucius had kept him in Andorra or almost anywhere else that wasn't Britain. An English-speaking man with amnesia in a non-English-speaking country would be conspicuous. And since keeping a hostage can be a tedious affair Lucius took away his memories and tucked him away where he could do no harm and could be found easily when needed. It turns out that he's still exactly where Lucius left him."

They looked out at the grounds side-by-side, not turning to each other. "If one of us appears to be this long-lost spy, you're certain that we'll be 'in'?" A sceptical feeling still nagged him.

He felt her shoulder move against his as she shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. The last time we talked about this you hadn't worked out how to get your hands on the children. I've written to an old friend in Gibraltar; the British wizarding community there is rather small and everyone knows everyone else. The Muggle population isn't especially large either and it didn't take him long to track down our blood-traitor. He's a clerk for a lawyer. It never even occurred to him, evidently, to leave Gibraltar. Piece of luck for us. Or it could be that he had no Muggle papers, so he was rather stuck. Muggles are quite obsessed with identification papers. And I doubt that a missing clerk in Gibraltar will have any effect on the wizarding community here. Everyone in Gibraltar thinks he's a Muggle and everyone here thinks he's been dead for over ten years. His family should give him quite the hero's welcome."

Blaise grinned; suddenly the barren grounds of the Wiltshire estate had never seemed lovelier and even Narcissa Malfoy seemed less repulsive than usual this morning. "Brilliant, my dear. So, who are we looking for in Gibraltar?"

She smiled up at him. "We are going to see a hard-working 'Muggle' clerk called Weatherby."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Teddy blew out the large black candle he'd been cradling in his hands. He heard corresponding puffs of air from Nate and Donna, telling him that they had done the same. The spell that the three of them had cast on themselves before beginning the ritual had allowed each of them to hear what the other two were saying so that they could recite the incantation in unison, even though they were spread out around their target, forming a large triangle, and were not in earshot of one other. They had found this spell before the one they sought for the ritual and Nate had immediately recognised its usefulness. It had been very handy indeed while they continued their research in the Restricted Section of the library.

Without the light of the candle the passage in which he sat was grey and eerie and seemed to be filled with an abundance of scuttling things that Teddy hoped would stay far away from him. The dark didn't usually unnerve him like this and he'd never had a nightlight as a small child. This was very intentional darkness, however. They'd waited months for a new moon that was also on a cloudy night, so that not even the light of the stars would shine down on the castle. (It had seemed inconceivable that in Scotland, of all places, it had been so hard to come by clouds on this one night of the month, but for some time it seemed that no matter how dismal the weather had been just before the new moon, on the night itself the clouds inexplicably cleared and stars filled the sky over Hogwarts.)

Teddy held his breath, waiting, uncertain whether it had worked. One of the most difficult tasks, other than finding a book with the complete ritual, had been to find spots surrounding their target where the three of them would be in the dark after extinguishing their candles. (More than one volume had been missing bits of the ritual because of charred pages or, once, what looked like a large acid-hole burnt straight through dozens of pages right in the middle of the book.) Large torches blazed to life the second someone entered most of the castle corridors. The map had helped with that; they had learned about all manner of secret passages that did not share this attribute, passages in which you had to creep along with your wand lit to see where you were going. These passages all had windows, however, which Donna had speculated might be the reason for the lack of torches, so timing the ritual for the new moon and waiting for clouds had been a necessity.

The darkness enveloped Teddy like a mantle; he almost felt like he would have to peel it off to stand, to move about. Did it work? he wondered. Is he gone? "D'you think it worked?" he finally whispered to the others. "Nate? What do you think? Donna? You've got the map."

"The map doesn't show ghosts, remember?" Nate replied, his soft, distant voice nonetheless reverberating in Teddy's head. Nate was so far away in the castle corridors that he could have shouted at the top of his lungs and Teddy wouldn't have heard him without the aid of the spell.

"I can't see the map anyway," Donna's voice whispered in Teddy's head. "I blew out the candle and it's pitch black now. That's what we wanted."

"Think we can move yet?" Teddy asked them, experimenting with speaking in a normal tone of voice.

"Don't shout!" Nate hissed at him. "Trying to make my bloody head explode?"

"Sorry," Teddy whispered.

"Yes, that hurt, Teddy," Donna confirmed quietly. "All right, in another minute I'm going to try lighting my wand so that I can see the map."

When neither Teddy nor Nate had been able to agree on which of the two of them should have the map during the ritual, Donna had finally stepped between them, grabbed the parchment, and said, "Bloody hell, I'm taking it." After she'd thrust it inside her robes there was nothing to be done; they weren't about to manhandle her to get it back so that was the end of it.

"Do you ever listen?" Nate hissed louder this time and Teddy understood what he meant about shouting as he was coming very close to it now. "I just said that the map doesn't show ghosts."

"I'm not looking for ghosts, idgit, I'm looking for people," she replied, also having a hard time keeping her voice soft. "So that we can sneak back to the common room. We'll just have to wait and see about whether it worked, I reckon."

It was silent again as the three of them waited. Finally, Teddy heard Donna whisper, "Lumos". Teddy waited for instructions but was unprepared for what happened next. "Teddy! Nate! Hide!" Donna yelled suddenly, making his head feel like it was going to explode; evidently she'd decided to deafen them both.

Hide? Where was he supposed to hide? "Lumos!" With his wand lit he could see the narrow passage again; spiders and mice ran from the light as he held it aloft, peering at each end of the corridor in which he stood, where there were no hiding places, no niches, not even a doorway. Then he saw it: a bobbing light in the distance, coming nearer and nearer. His feet seemed glued to the stone floor in terror but he finally forced himself to turn and flee.

After some turns, going up and down steep stairs and racing through two other secret passages they'd found that had torches lighting them (so they were unusable for the ritual), he found himself approaching the spot where Nate had been. "How'm I doing, Donna? Out of danger yet?" he panted, hoping he wasn't too loud.

"Where do you think you're going?" she hissed at him. "You'll get caught if you go there! That's where Nate was! And where's he gone? Oh, wait, I see him. He's--oh no no no no..."

"What?" Teddy wanted to know, heedless of how loudly he was speaking. He rounded the corner and entered the corridor that had been Nate's spot for the ritual--only to find himself face to face with Professor McGonagall in her nightcap and dressing gown, looking like a volcano getting ready to erupt. He tried to calm his breathing as he said, "Um, hullo, Professor. I--I can explain..." Only he couldn't; not if he didn't want to be expelled.

A moment later Filch entered the corridor with Nate in a headlock; Nate was turning blue and scrabbling at Filch's arm. Teddy understood why Nate hadn't said anything, since he appeared to be having difficulty breathing, let alone speaking.

"Lookee what I found," Filch said in his gravelly voice, grinning at the headmistress. "Ah, and I see you found t'other. Led me on a merry chase, he did. But I still caught me something," he said, tightening his hold on Nate and making him gasp and put his hands up to his neck, still trying to loosen Filch's hold on him.

"Release him, Argus," McGonagall said quietly, as though trying to avoid sounding too lenient. Filch stepped back, no longer touching Nate, who rubbed his neck and frowned, swallowing. As Teddy looked up into the headmistress's flashing, angry eyes, however, he didn't get the impression that too much leniency was going to be coming from her after what they'd done. "Return to your house, Mr Harrison, Mr Clearwater. You know that it is forbidden to be out of bed after hours. I will inform Professor Potter of your rule-breaking in the morning. Tomorrow--excuse me, it is after midnight, so that would be today--at seven o'clock in the morning you will report to Mr Filch's office for early detention, forgoing breakfast, and again after the end of lessons, until you leave the castle for your Easter holiday. Understood? Be in his office sharpish," she added, sounding rather blade-like herself.

Teddy nodded, resisting the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. She didn't know what they'd done, she only knew they were out after hours. And they hadn't caught Donna. They didn't even seem to know about her.

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

As they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, however, Teddy wondered what would happen when the headmistress learned what they'd really done. When they reached the common room Donna was already there, pacing the floor near the portrait hole, the map clutched in her hands.

"What happened? I could hear you saying Yes, ma'am, but I didn't want to say anything myself in case you stupidly tried to answer me while you were still with McGonagall and Filch. What happened?" she said again, frantic. The boys were both wincing while she talked; Nate held his head as though he had a splitting headache and Teddy thought that one of his mother's migraines would be lovely change of pace.

"First thing," Nate said decisively, whispering, "is we have to take this spell off. I've heard your voice in my head long enough," he added, speaking to Donna, who stuck her tongue out at him. Once the spell had been removed they were able to sit in some armchairs near the cold fireplace and talk normally, although for some reason they still felt the urge to speak in whispers.

"Do you think it worked?" Donna asked the boys.

Nate shrugged. "We won't know until tomorrow, will we? At least McGonagall only gave us detention for being out of bed; she didn't ask us what we were doing out of bed."

"What do you think she'll do when she puts it all together?" Teddy asked apprehensively, not directing this at either one of them in particular. They hadn't counted on getting caught; they'd thought the map would protect them. Mrs Norris must have tipped off Filch, he thought grumpily.

Donna shrugged. "We don't know if it worked. And even if it did, she might not work it out. But if she does..."

The three of them swallowed and were silent; all of them seemed to feel that it was better to wait to think about what the awful consequences could be if the headmistress found out that they'd been out at midnight because they were performing an exorcism.

"We should go to bed," Teddy said finally, starting to feel his eyes close. The others agreed and the boys said goodnight to Donna, who took the map with her, a guilty expression on her face, as though she thought she should have detention too. Teddy was just as glad that McGonagall didn't know that she was involved. As he lay in bed, drifting off, Teddy's mind started to conjure up strange images of himself aiming a gun at a ghost and shooting, but when he looked at his victim nothing was there but a white bedsheet with a hole in it...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry climbed the winding stairs to the tower flat with a weary step. During the last week of lessons before the Easter holiday each day seemed to take forever to pass. That this was the last day seemed to make it all the longer. It didn't help that he hadn't seen Ginny at all. He'd missed her during breakfast in the Great Hall, even though Theo and Flitwick had done their best to make him smile by telling him the latest outlandish excuses students were using to "explain" missing work. ("I've been learning vanishing spells and must have pointed my wand at my bag without realising it... No, only the homework I did for you is gone...") He'd felt all alone, nonetheless, in a hall with hundreds of chattering people in it.

He missed her acutely during the lessons themselves. Only now that she wasn't by his side did he fully appreciate that she'd always done the fiddly little things involved in teaching, such as reconciling the students absent from Defence against the Dark Arts with the list of students excused from lessons by Madam Pomfrey because they were recovering from illness or injury. She also put the notes and assignments on the blackboard and marked half of the essays and tests.

But it wasn't just the increased workload that made him miss her, nor her cleverness. (She'd recently said to him, while he was reading and marking essays, "I was going to suggest that you enchant the upper right-hand corner of the parchments so that when you write the mark there it appears in the book, but I reckon you've done that..." He hadn't, but after that he did, feeling like a fool for previously recording all of the marks by hand.) What he most missed was seeing her smile in pleasure when the students made a leap in understanding and learned to do something new, that They've got it!-smile on her face, the pride of knowing that the two of them had made that happen (or helped it along). He missed sitting with her at lunch in the Great Hall, chatting happily about the morning lessons or about their own children. He missed walking up the stairs with her at the end of the day and having tea with Ruby and Rory before putting in a token appearance at the evening meal in the Great Hall, to enjoy some pudding.

He no longer bothered appearing at the head table for any meal but breakfast, usually going back to the flat for lunch, but this day, after handing him a parchment at breakfast telling him that Teddy and Nate were out of their dormitory at midnight, Minerva had told him that she needed to meet with him in her office during lunch to discuss the Carlisle brothers. They were Gryffindors and his responsibility, as were Teddy and Nate. The Carlisle brothers were down to two, the eldest having completed his seventh year the previous June, but their bullying was completely out of hand and something simply had to be done.

And then, after waiting for nearly an hour in Minerva's office and almost missing the start of his first afternoon lesson, he'd left the empty office, highly suspicious as ever of the sleeping headmasters and headmistresses. He didn't know why Minerva should stand him up when she'd demanded his presence for this meeting, but he assumed that something more pressing had taken her attention. Before he left he told Phineas Nigellus, "Tell Minerva I waited as long as I could. I'm giving an exam now and can't stay. I know you're awake, Nigellus. Just tell her."

The disagreeable old Slytherin headmaster snorted, doing a terrible job of feigning sleep. Harry rolled his eyes and left. After that the afternoon seemed to drag on forever, especially as he was giving the end-of-term exams to the fourth and sixth years before Easter holiday. He'd already given the practical exams and was merely sitting at the front of the room waiting and waiting while quills scratched on parchment and the seconds crawled by. (The students, on the other hand, seemed to think the time for the exams disappeared twice as quickly as it really did.)

The only interesting thing that occurred all afternoon was that he noticed Minerva and Filch running past his classroom several times, looking frantic. Once he thought he heard her say, "He has to be here somewhere!" Harry shrugged, wondering what hell-child was giving them trouble now and hoping that it wasn't another Gryffindor. It was probably the reason for her missing their meeting. If it was a Gryffindor he probably would have heard about it by now. He was starting to wonder whether, by making him head of Gryffindor upon becoming headmistress, Minerva was trying to pay him back for his many after-hours adventures while he was in school. He certainly didn't relish talking to Teddy about his midnight outing, as he had been no saint himself at the same age.

Can't be Peeves, he reflected as Minerva went running past again. (He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen her move so quickly.) While Peeves still made trouble in the castle, he'd actually shown a tendency to be rather sweet to Minerva ever since Harry's fifth year. Whenever she was seeking him out he became decidedly red and nervous, like a schoolboy trying not to stutter while speaking to the girl he fancied. She was the only one in the school he listened to now; even the Bloody Baron didn't have the calming effect on him that Minerva did.

It seemed to Harry that he'd been away from Ginny forever when he finally reached the door of the flat and opened it, finding Molly sitting at the small round table by the window with Ruby and Rory as they did their homework. Molly seemed to be frowning at one of their texts. "Hello, Molly. I didn't know you would be here." He kissed both girls on top of their heads, ruffling Ruby's hair a little. "Getting a head start on the holiday homework?" he asked them. Molly continued to frown at the mathematics text.

"What are kilograms, Harry?" she asked him. "I never can remember..." Harry attempted to explain it to her, with many interruptions from the twins, but he was finally able to break in with an interruption of his own:

"Um, Molly, where is Ginny?"

"Oh! She went into the bedroom some time ago to feed the baby. She asked me to stay in case the girls needed help with their homework..." She bit her lip, as though uncertain about whether she was truly being helpful.

"It's okay, Nana," Ruby told her. "If Teddy doesn't have loads of homework maybe he can help us--"

"--or Nate!" Rory added.

"No, no," Molly insisted, turning the pages of the book rapidly, deeply determined. "I can do this--"

Harry smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Molly. And I daresay Teddy and Nate are--revising." He'd almost said in detention, remembering the note Minerva had given him that morning, and hoped that Molly would not realise that their exams would be over now. He moved toward the bedroom door. "I think I'll see whether Ginny is hungry; we can all have our tea and then I can help the girls after that. Don't you want to go home and have tea with Arthur, Molly?"

"I don't need to go yet. You see to Ginny." She opened the book again, grimly determined.

When Harry reached the bedroom door he knocked lightly but got no response. He turned the knob slowly and entered, finding Ginny curled on her side on the bed, asleep. The baby also slept, curled into the curve of her body, still latched onto her breast. Harry smiled at them both. He gently picked up the baby; she was a warm, limp weight on his shoulder. He brushed his lips over the vivid red hair, marvelling at how small she was still, even at eight months old. Just like her mother he thought, rocking her gently but patting her back firmly, until she finally let out a robust burp in her sleep that made him laugh out loud. He managed to change her nappy with out waking her, finally placing her gently in the cot at the foot of their bed, brushing his hand over her hair again. She slept with her right fist jammed into her mouth, which never failed to make Harry smile.

His heart felt full as he regarded her; lifting his eyes to her mother, his smile widened. He moved to Ginny's side, sitting on the bed as gently as possible, carefully covering her exposed breast for her and buttoning her blouse. He was surprised when she put her hand over his to stop him, as he'd thought she was still asleep.

"What's the matter, Potter? Am I only a dairy cow to you these days?" she demanded sleepily.

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I didn't fancy your mum coming in to check on you and finding you half-naked. I don't mind you half-naked. Or more than half, for that matter..."

She laughed ruefully, struggling to sit. Once she had succeeded she pulled on his tie and whispered, her mouth an inch from his, "Care to prove it? Charlotte's fast asleep..."

As she began running her lips along his jaw, her hand still grasping his tie, he stuttered, "Y-yes, but your m-mum and the twins are in the n-next room, and--"

She picked up her wand from the bedside table, pointed it at the door to Imperturb it, then pulled Harry's face to hers again, using the tie. Harry didn't fight her now; he was as frustrated as she was, since most nights recently Charlotte had been up screaming until all hours, due to teething. For some reason it seemed to be far worse than when the twins had gone through it. When Ginny and Harry had gone to both Molly and Madam Pomfrey they'd told them the same thing: taking the edge off the pain was fine but eliminating it altogether was not recommended, so they would still need to cope with some of Charlotte's discomfort. When they'd left the hospital wing, still carting the howling baby, Ginny had mocked Madam Pomfrey, something she never did.

"Humans feel pain for a reason," she'd said in a sing-song imitation of the old Healer. "She's not the one who hasn't slept for seventy-two hours... That's pain."

"If we don't do it with my mum and the twins in the next room, who knows when we'll next get the chance?" Ginny demanded of him now, as she started removing his shirt. Harry didn't need a lot of convincing, but he was so enthusiastic that he stumbled while trying to get out of his trousers and ended up striking his head on the footboard. He had to pause for a few minutes, sitting on the edge of the bed, seeing stars, as Ginny continued to disrobe. When his mother-in-law knocked at the bedroom door he jumped.

"Harry? Ginny? Is everything all right? You never came back, Harry. I do hope everything is all right..."

He cleared his throat, his enthusiasm for this activity waning a bit at the sound of Molly's voice. "Everything's fine, Molly. Just--"

"She can't hear you," Ginny reminded him. "The door is Imperturbed."

Harry sighed and located his wand in his clothes, then started putting on the clothes.

"What are you doing, Harry?" she demanded.

"I can't talk to your mum without my clothes on, Ginny," he whispered; he immediately felt foolish, since he hadn't taken the charm off the door yet, and he could tell from the expression on her face that she thought this was absurd. He finally took the spell off the door and said, "Everything's fine, Molly. I'm going to be out in a little while. Can you continue to stay with the girls?"

"Well, yes, but I wanted to check on you because Minerva called from her office. She needs for you to come right away for a meeting."

He groaned. "I waited for her all through lunch, and now she finally wants to talk about the Carlisle boys..."

"It's--it's not about the Carlisles," Molly said shakily.

Harry frowned. "Some other Gryffindors, then? Who?" He remembered the frantic chase in the corridor that afternoon.

Molly paused. "Yes, they're Gryffindors, but... Well, you won't just be going as their head-of-house."

"What are you talking about?" He finished dressing and turned to see that Ginny had put her clothes back on as well, probably as soon as she heard that Harry had to go to a meeting with Minerva. She was sighing and seemed weary and frustrated.

"Well, you'll also be there as--as Teddy's dad. Both boys' parents are being called. Teddy's and Nate's."

He swung open the door. "What? This is about Teddy and Nate? What have they done now?" As soon as he said this he felt like biting his tongue; he hadn't meant to reveal to Molly that they'd broken rules recently. He wondered why they were out of their dormitory at midnight but he didn't teach the second-year Gryffindors on Friday. They're supposed to be in detention. But then he remembered how Teddy had managed to get into even more trouble on the second evening he'd spent at Hogwarts, while in detention...

Molly crossed her arms on her chest grumpily. "I tried to get it out of Minerva, reminding her that I am Nate's grandmother and Teddy's step-grandmother, but she wouldn't tell me. Severus has gone to get their mums. Minerva sounded very serious," she added nervously. "Oh, if you knew the number of times I was called here to talk to Albus about Fred and George... Even though he was always very kind to me, I was certain that sooner or later they would be expelled..."

Brilliant, he thought. Thanks for being so comforting. "I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, not believing this. This has to be worse than being out of bed at midnight. I wonder what they've done to warrant bringing their mums?

"I do hope you're right," she said in a wavering voice.

Harry turned to Ginny, his mouth twisting. "I'll find out what's going on. If I'm not back for tea, just go ahead. The girls will be hungry."

Ginny gave him a small smile. "Good luck," she said softly, her eyes disappointed.

"Get some more sleep," he told her. "Before Charlotte--"

But it was too late. The baby had awoken and was bawling piteously. Ginny went to her cot, sighing. Harry left the room, wishing he could help. He kissed the twins on their heads and then walked down the stairs to the Great Hall once more, wondering when he would next be able to see his wife without her clothes on, let alone do anything about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Severus clung to his armchair and stared at Julian as the Knight Bus lurched onto a motorway leading to Birmingham. "You knew what your brother and Teddy Harrison have been up to and didn't tell anyone? Julian, if you hear of someone--even someone older than you are--planning mischief--"

The boy looked up at his father with large dark eyes, biting his lip. "Well, that's the thing, Dad. What they did wasn't exactly their idea. It was ours."

"Ours?" Severus said, frowning, turning to Penelope. She raised her brows and threw up her hands as well; this had the unfortunate side-effect of making her fall to the floor as the bus abruptly switched to the High Street of a village that could have been anywhere in Britain. Severus, Julian and Tilda just barely managed to stay seated.

"Don't look at me. I don't know anything about it," Penelope said weakly as she climbed back into her chair, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"No, not me and Mum," Julian sighed, as though his father should have known that wasn't what he meant. "Our idea. Me and Ruby and Rory. Actually, it was Ruby's idea. Sort of. Her idea to--to figure out a way to--well, she wasn't sure how to make it happen, but I remembered this film that Mum had gone to see, and--"

"The Exorcist," Penelope said, sighing and also gripping the arms of her chair as the bus made a leap to a new village. "He asked me what it was about and I simply said it was about some people who were being haunted by ghosts and who wanted to get rid of them... I didn't see a point to frightening him by being more explicit about what happens in the film. It wasn't as though it had any basis in reality anyway..."

Severus's frown deepened. "Do you realise what your idea has led to, Julian? There is a reason that the ghosts at Hogwarts have never been exorcised: It is a refuge for them, a haven. Because only witches and wizards can become ghosts it is another way in which we keep our presence in Britain a secret. There are other haunted buildings in the country, but they are the exception, not the rule, because Hogwarts is available to them to haunt without restriction. If the ghosts of Hogwarts no longer feel safe because of this..."

Penelope laughed ruefully. "You told me once, Severus, that you thought it showed a great weakness of mind to want to remain on earth after death, to not accept the end of one's life. Now you're so interested in protecting ghosts?"

She simply did not understand. "I think that one should not engage in the sort of thinking that leads to one's becoming a ghost but that does not mean that I think ghosts unworthy of protection. Certainly they should not be put through the experience of exorcism, which by all accounts is quite unpleasant. It's bad enough to condemn oneself to an eternity of merely observing others' lives, but--"

"If I may interrupt," Tilda said, stopping to grunt with the effort of staying in her chair as the bus rounded a curve in the road on two wheels, "does anyone care at all about what is going to happen to Nate and Teddy? What's done is done, and while I can appreciate that the boys are in the wrong, I'm concerned about my son. Will the headmistress use this as an excuse to expel him?" she demanded of Severus, her face drained of colour (although he thought that could have been because the bus had just gone onto the verge at the side of the road, forcing a stone fence to leap sideways).

"It was only one ghost!" Julian cried. "And they did it for you!"

The three adults stared. "What do you mean?" his father demanded. "For whom?"

He reddened and looked furtively at his father and Tilda, clamping his mouth shut. Severus's eyes moved back and forth between Penelope and Tilda, then said, "Do you want to tell me about it Julian? Just me?"

Julian wouldn't meet his mother's eyes; his face was quite red. "Okay," he said quietly.

Severus stood shakily, grasping a metal pole, holding out his hand for Julian. "Come," he said tersely. Julian took his hand and allowed himself to be led to the front of the bus, where they took two empty armchairs. As he sat, Severus glanced back at Penelope and Tilda, who seemed offended to be left out.

"Why did the boys go to so much trouble to exorcise only one ghost, Julian? What were they trying to accomplish, and how could it have been for me and for Tilda?" He could tell that Julian hadn't meant it to be for his mother.

He listened to Julian's explanation, two feelings battling within him. One was a feeling that Minerva was not going to think the boys' solution was workable at all; the other was a feeling that if she could be convinced it would be wonderful, it would solve a very large problem that had existed in his and Tilda's almost-relationship for some time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Blaise Zabini handed his wand to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt put it into a long gold-coloured tube, which spoke in a tinny voice:

"Teak with dragon heartstring, in use for seventeen years, seven months. Last spell performed: shaving facial hair, approximately two hours ago."

Shacklebolt nodded and took the wand from the tube, but looked askance at Blaise when he held out his hand to have the wand returned to him.

"Visitors are not permitted to take wands into the cells." There was what appeared to be a large honeycomb behind him; he placed Blaise's wand into one of the openings with no further comment to him. "Your wand, madam?" he said abruptly to Narcissa Malfoy. She drew her lips into a line and mutely handed it over, wincing as the tinny voice described it:

"Beech with unicorn hair, in use for thirty-eight years, seven months. Last spell performed: changing hair colour from grey to blonde, approximately two hours ago."

She seemed like she wanted to snatch the wand away again but was restraining herself. Shacklebolt nodded, glanced at her hair, said, "Good job," and also put her wand into a small hexagonal pigeonhole. Blaise started to move toward the doorway, but Shacklebolt stopped him. "You've got to be searched now," he informed him. "Procedure."

Blaise sighed and stood stock-still while Shacklebolt patted him down, including patting down each leg individually as the large man crouched before him. When Shacklebolt came to Blaise's robe pockets he recoiled in surprise.

"What is that?"

"Oh, sorry. Most of the time he just sleeps. I forget he's there sometimes," Blaise apologised, taking a rather long albino ferret from his pocket. "He's rather old now. Had him since I started at Hogwarts. It won't be a bother to have him with me, surely?"

Narcissa frowned at him. "How could you bring that--that thing? You know how Draco hates ferrets!"

"He'll never see it," Blaise said, trying to pacify her, pleased with her performance in front of Shacklebolt. Not that I didn't already know what a talented actress she is. "Honestly! He never gave a damn about it when we were in school. Told me to keep it away from him, that's all. Which I shall. Winston'll be sleeping peacefully in my pocket and Draco shan't be the wiser... And at any rate, he's more likely to, erm, ‘react' to our news..."

"News?" Shacklebolt said, raising his eyebrows. Blaise returned the ferret to his pocket and Shacklebolt did not object. "Is that why you're visiting him earlier this year, Mrs Malfoy, than midsummer?"

Narcissa turned pink. "I know there's an age difference, but even though Blaise was in my son's year in school, I've become quite fond of him... and telling Draco that I'm going to be marrying again hardly seems like the sort of thing to put into a letter..."

A smirk seemed to be playing around Shacklebolt's mouth. "I see. Of course, Mrs Malfoy. Erm, I still need to search you..."

"Right," she said, standing with her legs together and her arms lifted from her sides. Even with his dark complexion, Blaise thought Shacklebolt might be blushing as he patted down Narcissa. He did it very briskly, not dawdling over any one area, and when he was crouched before her, patting down the outsides of her legs through her robes, he made no move to separate her legs so that he could pat them down individually. He stood again quickly, nodding at them both.

"Riley will take you to his cell. He's been moved; it's his turn to be on the south side. A little warmer and sunnier. When we get sun up here. He seems to like it."

Narcissa gave him a frosty smile. "How lovely," she said, "that his prison cell has a southern exposure. I'm certain that that makes up for everything else."

Shacklebolt's good graces had been exhausted by her sarcasm. "Go on then. You only have half an hour," he said gruffly. "Riley!" he called. A red-headed Auror in his mid-twenties appeared at the door to the anteroom and nodded to Blaise and Narcissa, who followed him silently.

As they walked behind the Auror the North Sea wind battered the corridor windows, making them rattle in the frames. Although this was the first time he'd ever visited Azkaban, Blaise did not think that it would be much more welcoming in June than in April. He was glad that Dementors no longer guarded the fortress, and not only because it would have been far more difficult for him to get Draco out. He remembered the Dementors on the train in his third year, and at the gates to the castle the first time he'd gone to Hogsmeade. He hated Dementors and hoped that the Ministry had found some way to get rid of them once and for all. He'd never heard what had become of the former Azkaban guards, though, and still sometimes had nightmares about them...

When they reached the cell Riley said pointedly, "I'll be dropping by from time to time," directing this at Blaise in particular.

Blaise nodded and smiled ingratiatingly. "Of course, of course. We understand."

Narcissa had told him that the guards didn't give visitors thirty minutes of uninterrupted time with a prisoner, so he'd planned to explain everything to Draco first, watch for a passing guard, then follow that with the actual execution of the plan. Thus far everything had gone well, including Shacklebolt failing to search Narcissa completely. Blaise was grateful that, for nearly ten years, her behaviour had been beyond reproach during visits, as it made this one far easier. He was also glad that he'd decided that their cover story was the announcement of their engagement; not only was Shacklebolt rather distracted by this, he was now aware that he was searching Narcissa's body in front of her fiancé, which seemed to have affected his judgment. Everything was going swimmingly.

Sitting on a slim bunk with a nearly flat mattress, Draco Malfoy jerked his head up when he saw them. Narcissa had told him that Draco received regular haircuts, but Blaise was pleased to see the evidence of this himself. Good, very good... Makes it easier...

"What the hell are you doing here?" Draco growled upon seeing Blaise. He got to his feet. "And you, Mum... You're visiting me before the summer? What's the occasion?" His voice was tinged with suspicion; a moment later, looking back and forth between his mother and his former dormitory-mate, the reason for the visit dawned on him, causing the little colour in his face to quickly depart. "No. Oh, no no no..."

Blaise turned and smiled feebly at the Auror who'd brought them, as if to say, This won't be easy... The Auror smirked and left; as soon as he seemed to be out of earshot, Blaise turned to Draco and whispered, "Listen, I was going to explain this to you properly, but I doubt that we have time. So I'm going to do this instead." With that, he went to his knees before Narcissa and lifted up the hem of her robes.

"Oi!" Draco cried out indignantly. "I'm right here! Get your hands off my mum!"

He moved forward but Blaise had already detached the hidden wand that had been magically glued to the skin on the inside of Narcissa's right thigh; he pointed it at Draco. First he used it to quickly cut off some of the fair hair, which fell to the dirty floor, followed by his dirty robes. Then, before Draco could complain about having his hair cut and being in his underwear, Blaise pointed the wand at Draco again, saying the incantation very quickly. Immediately, Draco was replaced by a long, white ferret that was the twin of the animal in Blaise's pocket. He then summoned the new ferret into his left hand (Draco had started running toward the bed) and handed her son to Narcissa.

"It's all right, Draco," she whispered, struggling to hold the squirming animal.

Blaise took the other ferret out of his pocket, placed it on the mattress, and pointed the wand at it. "Finite Incantatem!"

A moment later a ferret was no longer sitting on the mattress; instead a man in his late twenties sat before them, his pale hair and eyes the exact same colour as Draco Malfoy's, although his features were slightly different. Blaise was very pleased with the substitute; he'd met the Muggle man while they were in Gibraltar and had immediately been impressed by how similar his and Draco Malfoy's looks and build were. He'd been searching throughout Britain without being completely satisfied with anyone he found and was starting to think that he should make a little trip to one of the Scandanavian countries or Germany to find a near-double for Draco Malfoy. A Swiss tourist in Gibraltar, however, saved him the bother, and with a little memory charm and Imperius he was as docile as a lamb. Another wave of the wand and the man was wearing Draco's dirty old prison-issue robes, while his holiday clothes from Gibraltar sat in a pile on the floor where the robes had been. Blaise quickly vanished the clothes before kneeling again before Narcissa (Draco squirmed with agitation) and replacing the wand against the skin of her thigh.

Blaise stood back from the bed, admiring the effect of the blond man in the robes, squinting a bit as he did so. Anyone who knew Draco well wouldn't be fooled, but they were going to be leaving him with a supply of Polyjuice potion with Draco's hair in it. If there was any danger of close contact with anyone the decoy was under orders to take some potion, but otherwise it was to be conserved. If he stayed away from the door, faced the wall or huddled under the blanket there was a good chance that Draco's escape wouldn't be discovered for quite a long time. Ideally, no one would have any idea that Draco Malfoy wasn't still in Azkaban until he made his debut as the next great Dark Lord.

Blaise smiled at the Swiss man, whose name he had not even bothered to learn. It did not matter; he would need to learn to answer to a new name now.

"Hello, Draco."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You have thoughtlessly deprived this school of a valued teacher," Minerva told Nate and Teddy, who stood before her desk, studiously examining their shoes as though they were utterly fascinating, while Severus, Tilda, Harry and Penelope sat in chairs behind the two boys and Julian sat at a low table Severus had conjured near the windows, well away from them, where he occupied himself with a colouring book and crayons. All of the adults seemed visibly uncomfortable during this scolding. "To say nothing," Minerva continued, "of the possibility that other ghosts may now decide to leave the castle for friendlier places to haunt, which could cause the Ministry of Magic a great deal of trouble..."

"We never intended that to happen," Nate said in a soft voice. "It was only Professor Binns we were trying to--"

"Yes! A teacher!" she exclaimed, spots of colour appearing in her cheeks. "And how do you think I should 'reward' you? What if you had killed a teacher? Do you think that should go unpunished as well? You as good as killed him..."

"But he was already dead!" Teddy burst out suddenly. "And it's not as though he's--he's damaged. He just can't come here anymore. We already have one ghost at St Clare's Chapel; maybe he can come live--erm, stay with us, keep Moody company..."

"Bloody hell, that's the last thing I need..." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes.

"He was still a teacher, Mr. Harrison--"

"And a damn dreadful one," Penelope declared, sitting forward in her chair. "Forgive me, Professor McGonagall, but even those of us in Ravenclaw never learned a thing from him. We read our texts and formed groups to do revision together. But we never learned a thing from Professor Binns's droning."

"Thank you!" Harry cried, getting to his feet. "Minerva, he may have been my 'colleague,' but he called all of the students by the wrong names, when he noticed that they existed. He did everything on autopilot!"

"Auto--what?" Professor McGonagall said weakly, confused.

"Automatically," Penelope said. "He was in his own world." She gave a sniff and sat back, her arms folded across her chest. "From what I can see, the boys have done what should have been done a very long time ago. I don't mean actually getting rid of Professor Binns. But if you or Professor Dumbledore had hired a real teacher and sent all of the students to him--or her--and Professor Binns was left to drone away in an empty classroom for an eternity I doubt that he'd have known the difference. Out of respect for a ghost the students of Hogwarts have been neglected for years."

Severus caught Tilda's eye; she was clearly outraged. "Is this true?" she demanded, of Severus as much as of Minerva, who did not answer Tilda.

The headmistress looked levelly at Severus, then Harry. "Do all of you feel this way? And others? I've been remiss in my duties to allow the students to continue to be taught by Professor Binns?" Severus recognised the little catch in her voice that betrayed her emotions; Minerva was very touchy about being compared to Dumbledore ever since taking over as the head but he rarely saw a chink in her armour. He knew the chinks were there, but Minerva had done her best to patch them over with imperiousness and an acid tongue. His eyes, however, could not help but stray to the corner where Julian was sitting, obviously listening to the adults. In a few short years his son would be a student; did he want Julian's education neglected for the sake of humouring a ghost?

He met Minerva's eye now, his mouth pulled into a grim line. "I'm afraid so, Minerva. I also did not find Professor Binns's teaching to be instructive when I was young. For years the only use the students seemed to think his lessons had was as a way for them to catch up on their sleep. Which may have been the rationale behind Albus's allowing him to continue to teach--it would be like him--but now that we have no alternative, I suggest that we put our minds to finding an appropriate replacement."

She tilted her head slightly. "With no punishment for the perpetrators?"

Severus shook his head. "I believe that, after Easter, they should have a fixed amount of detention time each week, to be increased should there be any further--infractions." He directed a very stern expression at the boys now, especially Nate, whom he fixed with his You should know better glare. Nate did not flinch or look away but did seem contrite. Teddy Harrison, however, had a stubborn set to his jaw. Those Potter genes will out, Severus thought grumpily. Thinks he should get away with murder.

"Thank you, Severus," Minerva said stiffly, sounding anything but grateful. "Mr. Harrison," she said, a ring in her voice, as though announcing an execution; "you shall serve detention with Mr Filch Saturday and Sunday afternoons during the new term."

Teddy dropped his jaw and glared at Severus. Teddy was a reserve Chaser now that he was a second year, although he hadn't played a match yet, as the other Chasers were all in good health thus far. One of them--the captain, who'd been grooming him--was a seventh year whose last match would be the final against Slytherin; Severus knew Teddy would hate to miss it. "But I have practice on Saturdays! And the Quidditch final is--"

"You shall need to miss the final, then. And convince Mr Armstrong to hold practices some other day, which I doubt he will do, given his NEWT revision schedule. The detentions will also preclude your going to Durham on the weekends, I'm afraid." Teddy started to open his mouth again, caught Severus's eye, and clamped it shut quickly. Minerva nodded with approval upon seeing that he decided not to speak again. "You, on the other hand, Mr Clearwater," she continued, turning to Nate, "shall serve detention with Mr Filch every Tuesday and Thursday evening during the new term..."

"Then--we're not having detention together, ma'am?" Nate asked softly.

Minerva's lips were very thin and white from being pressed together so hard. "The pair of you have had enough conspiracy opportunities. I do not plan to give you more."

"But it wasn't their idea!" Julian burst out suddenly. All eyes turned to the small boy in the corner. He did not cower under their collective gaze but Severus winced, hoping that Julian would not reveal--especially in Tilda's presence, let alone Harry Potter's--the motivation for the exorcism. His eyes shifted from his son back to Minerva.

"I think that young Mr Snape and I should have a little private conversation," Minerva said, folding her hands on the desk and pursing her lips. Severus saw Penelope's eyes flash dangerously. Before she could say anything, he sat forward and asked, "May I know why, Minerva?"

She did not regard Severus but smiled benignly at the earnest little boy. "It would seem that your son has something to tell me that may benefit his brother and Mr Harrison. I prefer to hear what he has to say without interference from anyone else."

Severus bit his tongue hard enough that he tasted blood. Without interference from his parents, you mean, he thought, disgruntled.

Nate stepped forward, evidently not thinking that the ‘interference' comment referred to him, Julian's brother. He put his hand on Julian's shoulder and said, "You don't have to do this, Jules. We're okay..."

Julian looked up at him in alarm, his dark eyes worried. Minerva regarded the brothers silently for a moment. "Your brother is perfectly safe, Mr Clearwater. He is not my charge yet and nothing he may tell me about his own involvement will result in any punishment for him."

Nate still seemed uncertain, but Julian gave him a wavering smile. "I'll be okay, Nate. Don't worry. About anything," he added, widening his eyes. Severus wondered what that was about, but now Penelope was standing, her arms crossed.

"You're certain?" she asked her younger son.

"Yes, Mum," Julian sighed, as though straining to keep the exasperation out of his voice. Severus looked uncertainly at Harry, who did not meet his eyes. They filed out of the head's office so that Minerva could talk to Julian. Tilda and Severus went last, after Tilda gave Julian a loving smile that was returned, which made Severus feel rather nervous. Julian was hoping for quite a lot and Severus feared that he would be disappointed, as Nate had been disappointed...

Severus still couldn't quite believe that Tilda Harrison was interested in being with him. He'd been taking Julian to Latere Farm for months and months--Nate going along during the summer, when Teddy was also there half of the time--when he decided, on the spur of the moment, to visit her on an autumn weekend when he was not being "the dad." He wasn't certain that he'd be welcome, given that she'd been quite hostile to him during his previous Julian-themed visit. However, when she came to the door and he explained the reason for his being there (saying that he understood if she wasn't interested in coming out with him), she'd rolled her eyes, called him, a great clueless pillock (with no malice in her voice), and they'd gone out to dinner--with no children--for the first time, finally.

When Julian next saw them together he could tell there was a difference between them immediately. Severus was very stern with him and told him to stop grinning like an idiot all of the time, which made Tilda to go into protective mode again.

After months of his going to Latere Farm each weekend--finally staying over in Tilda's room, rather than the guest room--it became clear that one thing would always stand between them: time and distance. Two things. And the fact that she was a Muggle and he was a wizard, which made three things. They did not have very much time together because they lived in different worlds. This made everything more difficult. What he didn't realise until after speaking to Julian on the bus was that his son had been conspiring for some time to give them the opportunity to be with each other more.

It was an addle-brained idea, Severus felt, and if Julian was telling Minerva about it there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she would think it mad. He watched Tilda pace nervously, unable not to hope, despite pessimism being his usual impulse.

Minerva finally appeared, asking all to return to her office. When they were in their positions around her desk again, Julian at her side, like the cat that ate the cream, she folded her hands on the desk and regarded them all with an unreadable expression.

"Mr Snape has told me of the reasons for the exorcism. Unfortunately, Mr Clearwater and Mr Harrison, I must tell you that I have no intention of hiring a Muggle to teach something like History of Magic. One can hardly expect someone, even with teaching experience, to handle subject material with which they have no familiarity whatsoever." She nodded at Tilda, who widened her eyes in shock. "In fact, Professor Borodin has been agitating for years to get that position. It is my understanding that he teaches his lessons largely as history of magic lessons with a bit on the side concerning what he is supposed to be teaching. I have been aware of this and yet I have done nothing about it." She sighed. "However, going forward we shall have Professor Borodin to teach History of Magic, so I shall need to find a teacher to replace him, rather than someone to replace Professor Binns."

Nate and Teddy slumped dejectedly; Teddy looked toward his mother, who seemed shocked. Severus saw that Harry seemed a bit taken aback as well, while, oddly, Penelope appeared to be as disappointed as the boys. "However," Minerva continued, and Severus thought he saw a small smile start to pull at her mouth; "that means that we now have an opening for a teacher of Muggle Studies." Severus gripped the edge of his chair; it had slipped his mind that Borodin taught that! Minerva was looking meaningfully at Tilda, whose hand had gone to her chest as though she thought she might stop breathing. "I understand that you are an experienced teacher, Miss Harrison, and are also interested in returning to the classroom."

Tilda opened her mouth but nothing came out at first. "Are--are you offering me a job?" she finally said with a choke in her voice.

Minerva frowned. "I am not certain that I am. I would like you to think about it, though. I shall think about it as well, during the Easter holiday. Toward the end of the holiday I shall come to see you so that we may talk about it again. What is clear is that I do need a teacher for the summer term, so even if I do not make a permanent appointment until September there is a vacancy to be filled in the meantime."

Tilda turned to Severus, as if to say, This could be it... the answer to our prayers...

Harry, however, stepped forward. "Are you sure you'd want to do something like this, Tilda? Getting around Hogwarts castle is hard enough for a first year who hasn't learnt magic yet... You wouldn't be able to cast spells to get your foot out of trick stairs, or--"

"Mr Filch manages to work here without magical abilities, Professor Potter," Minerva said firmly. "At any rate," she continued briskly, "I have not made my decision yet. I prefer to do so with more than twenty minute's thought. And I shall consider Miss Harrison's possible difficulties during the deliberation process. There is also no guarantee that if I offer her a job she will accept it. But it is my job to consider the appropriateness of the appointment, not yours. I suggest instead that you have a little talk with the twins," she added, raising her eyebrows, her eyes moving sideways toward Julian. Harry closed his eyes as though in pain.

Severus bit his tongue, torn between laughing at the expression on Harry's face and saying something acid about the suggestion that Tilda shouldn't work at Hogwarts because she was a Muggle. He's so proud of being pro-Muggle, so bias can't be the reason. Perhaps he doesn't want the mother of his illegitimate child hanging about? But then Severus thought about something else that he hadn't considered...

Do I want Tilda hanging about with the man she couldn't resist when he was sixteen?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Teddy and Nate tumbled into the Gryffindor common room. Teddy looked around, frantic, but he didn't see Donna anywhere. Nate immediately knew what he was doing.

"Wait--I'll go look at the map," he said, sprinting up the stairs to their dorm, Donna having given it back to them that morning. Even though Nate was already gone, Teddy nodded, tapping his foot impatiently. Fortunately, neither his dad nor the headmistress had asked them how they had learnt to exorcise a ghost, nor how just the pair of them had managed it without a third person, and although his dad had noticed that his map had gone missing, according to Rory, Harry thought this was his own fault, that he'd simply mislaid it.

When he’d finally noticed the loss five months earlier, the twins had come home from school that day to find that Harry had ransacked their room looking for something; he did not tell them what it was. He searched their rucksacks as well.

Ruby said that she'd heard Ginny talking about Harry also turning the Defence office upside down while looking for something. Neither Ruby nor Rory thought it could be anything other than the map. It evidently had occurred to him that the twins might have once heard him activate and deactivate the map and nicked it afterward; it evidently had not occurred to him that they would have given the map to Teddy after that. Having searched their rooms--at the castle and in Durham--Harry was convinced that he was still overlooking something.

Nate tumbled back into the room from the stairs, half-concealing the map in the sleeve of his robe. "She's in the Owlery," he hissed at Teddy.

"Good," Teddy responded quietly, turning toward the portrait hole again--only to discover a rather large chest in his way.

It was, unfortunately, attached to Craig Carlisle, who was now in sixth year. His little brother, who was no longer very little and was also the bane of Teddy’s existence, stood next to him. Teddy groaned inwardly, not being in the mood to deal with the Carlisles; he was liable to be goaded into something that would land him in detention for his entire third year, in addition to already being in detention for the remainder of his second year...

He was completely unprepared for what the elder Carlisle did next: he grinned ear to ear and threw his arms around Teddy, giving him a crushing hug, after which he hugged Nate, who looked like he was going to choke or spew, it was hard to tell which. When Carlisle released him Nate was as white as sheet, backing up nervously from the brothers.

"You did it! You got rid of Binns!" And then Carlisle said the scariest thing of all:

"You lads are my new mates!"



Author notes: Thanks to Rena and June for the beta-reading and Britpicking.
More information on my HP fanfiction and essays can also be found HERE. Please be a considerate reader and review.