Harry Potter and the Old Believers

Chapter 09

It was a happy lunch/dinner that the six enjoyed a little after noon, local time.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked his godfather.

"That idiot Fudge. If I'm found and killed before I can be acquitted, I'm less of a political embarrassment."

The four young people stared in amazement. Sirius just shrugged, so Pwy picked up the story. "Fudge got to be minister because of a series of errors made by the six wizards ahead of him; Crouch being the most famous. Everyone knows Fudge is an idiot. If Harry's knowledge of Voldemort and Sirius are proven true, Fudge is afraid he might be retired. He's not evil, as such, despite his association with Malfoy, but he's determined to hold on his position as long as he can. If Voldemort is acknowledged to be back, Fudge is probably out sooner rather than later." Titus sighed. "I talked with my connections with the Council and the International. They're putting strong pressure on the Ministry to get Sirius acquitted -- that has to be done on the national level. Don't think Fudge is trying to have Sirius killed by anyone other than Voldemort's people. Fudge just isn't pushing as hard as he should be."

"This is confusing," Ron said.

"I agree," Titus told them. "Fudge is confused and is lashing out in all directions, some good and some bad. So, I thought it best to have Sirius here, out of the way. I brought him here last Thursday evening. He'll help with your training."

"Is Remus here, too?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, but he's very safe," Sirius answered. "He's helping Dumbledore at Hogwarts."

The four went up to their rooms (boys and girls, to Ron's mixed relief and disappointment) after lunch. They were amazed by the size, each bedroom on the middle floor was some fifteen by twenty five feet, and each had two large beds and two desks. They unpacked some and then laid down after taking a little potion. After a 30 minute nap, they woke up adjusted to local time.

At 1:50, the four were downstairs in shorts, trainers, and t-shirts. Titus showed them how to wear a wand holster and then wrapped light running weights around their wrists and ankles. "Let's see how good of shape we're all in," he told them, and led them out on the porch. "We're jogging as long as possible, not running fast. When you can't run any more, walk."

Hermione gave up running in less than 10 minutes. Ginny was next at 12. Ron gave out at 15, while Harry did at 18, with Sirius giving up a few seconds after Harry. "Alright, you three, back to jogging! Harry, Sirius, jog when you can."

At 2:30, Titus called a halt. "By the time you leave, you'll be alternating jogging and running for two forty-five minute sessions, along with an hour of hard flying. We'll also be doing some real hex work-outs. Let's see what you three know, and then we'll work to help Ginny catch up."

That indeed was the daily schedule until Harry's birthday. Every morning, they ran from 6:45 - 7:30. From 9:00 - 9:45 they practiced hexes and from 10:00 - 11:00 they flew. It wasn't Quidditch, it was flying obstacle courses or flying and dueling at the same time. From 1:15 - 2:00 was hex practice again, followed by jogging 2:00 - 2:45 and then weight training 2:45 - 3:30. From 4:00 - 5:00, they worked on their summer essays. It was hard training, but it wasn't so intense as to do anything but buoy their enthusiasm. Harry and Ron even re-did their divination homework properly.

Ron and Harry usually flew another half hour after the morning flying practice. Ginny sometimes joined, and sometimes watched them, sketching away on notepads. Hermione would go through part of Titus' 30,000 volume library. Most evenings saw Harry and Ginny either in Titus' wand shop or listening with Ron and Hermione to Sirius' tales of the Marauders.

One evening, however, Titus pulled out his albums of Hogwarts photos. They all enjoyed watching Dumbledore grow up, and seeing their ancestors, although that part did leave Hermione feeling a tad left out.

Harry and Ginny found some time to be just together, as did Ron and Hermione, although they weren't yet quite as comfortable with each other as a couple as Harry and Ginny. They were both still afraid they might start arguing again.

Both couples enjoyed watching the stars come out each night. They would go out together after their showers, but Harry and Ginny would sit watching the sunset to the west, while Ron and Hermione sat on the east-side of the house, watching the first stars come out.

A few days before Harry's birthday found Ron and Sirius playing some cut-throat chess early that evening, while Ginny and Hermione had announced that "We have things to talk about" and were locked away in their room until sunset.

"Harry, I think it's time you and I had a talk," Pwy said as they turned some wands in the wood shop.

"You're going to tell me why Voldemort is after me?"

"If you want to know, I can tell you part of it, anyway." They brushed up the saw dust and walked out through the garage, where they sat in two of the lawn chairs that Pwy had set around a picnic table and barbeque pit.

"Care to make a guess at the primary reason?"

"Well, I'm powerful. It seems like I'm discovering new abilities every year." Harry frowned a little. "Of course, could anyone be certain of that when I was an infant?"

"Certain? No. But your father was immensely powerful, but his power was still a little erratic. Your mother was also powerful, but not on the same level as your father. Some of us have a nice even progression of power; many powerful wizards have a difficult time keeping a steady amount of controllable power until they're in their mid-twenties. Both your were parents were like that. So, all other considerations aside, you were a potential threat, especially once Voldemort killed your father. Your father was a very brilliant auror in the few years he was active in the fight. Even if Voldemort had left you and your mother alive, you would have wanted revenge."

"So those are reasons, but not the main reason?"

"Correct. Think about what you know of Tom Riddle; what, if we'd known it at the time, might have enabled the staff at Hogwarts to clear up some major problems while he was at school?"

"That he's the Heir of Slytherin."

"He's AN heir of Slytherin. In magical families, heirs are counted in several different ways. The first is by magical blood and gender. The magical son of a powerful wizard in a primary heir, a daughter is a secondary heir. If it's a powerful witch, then the opposite is true. Both are magical heirs. If a squib is born to a witch and wizard, but then has magical descendants, that's a general heir. It turns out that, as far as we can tell, Riddle is the last magical heir. There are, no doubt, many general heirs in the world."

"Am I an heir of Gryffindor?"

"You're the last primary heir of Gryffindor. The heir of the seventh son of his seventh son."

"That explains a lot." He paused. "Why couldn't Dumbledore just tell me that at the end of my first year?"

"Because that responsibility is a little over-whelming to a twelve year old. He'd always planned on telling you last Christmas, since he knew you'd probably stay there."

"True." Harry had to admit that was almost a certainty.

"However, he felt that, with the pressure of the Twi-Wizard, you didn't need one more thing to think about."

"True again," Harry said in a complaining manner.

"If the Tournament hadn't ended in such a disaster, he would have told you then."

"And all this means what?"

"There are lots of reasons why it works out this way, but in a nutshell, it means that your magic will trump Voldemort's, given any kind of chance. If your father had met Him in a real fight, instead of being surprised by Him when he thought he was safe, Voldemort would have been destroyed that night. Voldemort can't win against you in an open fight if you keep your head -- you proved that last month. He has sent the magical world out of balance, and you have the power to counter him. Not to counter everyone, but specifically him -- you're very powerful, but could more easily lose to another very powerful wizard who wasn't a descendent of Slytherin." Pwy put his arm on the boy's shoulder. "That doesn't mean you're just a tool or a pawn, Harry, although it's understandable that you might feel that way at times."

"Thanks for telling me." He thought a moment. "Do I need to keep it a secret?"

"No, but tell Hermione when Ron's there." He grinned. "And, if possible, when I'm there."

That puzzled Harry. "Why?"

"Because the name of the seventh son of the seventh son is in her favorite book."

Harry didn't have to ask the name of that book. Ron had been teasing Hermione about bringing her copy of it just the night before. "What was his name?"

"Last names hadn't been invented yet in England, but his descendants took the name of his profession, which they followed for several generations."

"Which was?"

"Why, he was known as Harold the Potterer."

Harry stared at Pwy, and then collapsed laughing.

Harry's birthday dawned stormily -- they had had fairly clear weather until then. "I wonder what he'll have us do today," Harry muttered.

"Put us on that treadmill he has in the cellar," Ron speculated in a very unhappy tone.

"Probably," Harry agreed unhappily.

"You think Hermione is speaking to us yet?" She hadn't since Harry had dropped the bombshell.

"I hope so. Unless you mention that book again." One teasing comment from Ron the previous morning had certainly caused a set-back.

"I won't!" Harry gave Ron a dirty look. "I'll try not to," Ron amended. That Harry could believe.

Fifteen minutes later, all four walked down the stairs to the kitchen. They expected Arwinni and Titus to be there -- they were there waiting every morning. Titus went to bed early and got up early enough to spend two hours back at Hogwarts or London. Sirius usually just made it down to start the run on time.

Today, Sirius was waiting for them, along with two other people. "Remus!" Harry greeted enthusiastically. Then Hermione saw, "Professor Dumbledore!"

"Just as well it's raining," Titus said. "We weren't going to get much done today, anyway."

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked Dumbledore. "Or news?"

"A problem?" Dumbledore asked, and everyone could see he looked tired. "No, not as such. News? Well, for good news, Miss Granger has been named a prefect, along with Miss Bones, Mister Zabini, and Mister Boot. I have also decided to name special security prefects from the fifth year -- Miss Nott, Miss Perks, Miss Turpin, and you two. For the probably not good, while there have not been any successful attacks, there was one major attack that failed and three Death Eaters were later killed by the killing curse. We don't know for certain why; they obviously had failed their master."

"Who was killed?" Harry asked after he and Ron had congratulated Hermione -- that seemed to earn her forgiveness. Harry hoped Snape wasn't one of those killed. He didn't like the Potions master, but didn't want him dead.

"Avery, Crabbe, and Goyle," Dumbledore answered. "Whatever plan Avery was in charge of was obviously rejected; or perhaps he was in charge of the botched attack."

"What about their sons?" Harry asked.

"They were not harmed. We shall have to see how those dynamics may change." Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Now, Miss Granger, the failed attack was on your parents."

Hermione was struck speechless for once.

"Please remember, I said it failed. They do not even know it took place. While the Death Eaters involved were not caught, one was positively identified as Peter Pettigrew by two aurors that knew him at Hogwarts. With luck, Sirius, we may have your name cleared soon."

"But not yet?"

"Not yet. However, we did not come to tell you upsetting news, but to celebrate a birthday." Dumbledore turned to Pwy. "You promised us cake, Titus."

"So I did! Accio lento Harry's cake!" A large American-style sheet cake flew slowly to Titus' hands. "I hope chocolate and chocolate is alright with you, Harry."

"Presents!" Sirius proclaimed, and materialized them as well.

"All this, and presents too!" Harry looked sternly at his friends. "If you three bought me anything, be warned, I'll start buying you presents as well!"

"Ew, now there's a threat," Ginny teased.

Harry cut the cake, but Titus went ahead and served it, along with milk, coffee, and tea. Harry was put to work opening his presents. Dobby had sent another hand-made pair of mis-matched socks, while Hagrid had sent a rather mysterious-looking sweet.

"That's lamba," Titus told them. "It's a candy made by the giants for their young children, from honey and herbs."

Fred and George had sent a package, which they all decided was best opened last -- and out doors if possible. Remus, Sirius, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had clubbed together to get Harry a practice snitch, and of course he had his books from Doctor Pwy, plus three other books on wand making.

After the breakfast was over, they trooped down to the garage to open Fred and George's package. It didn't explode, which encouraged Harry to finish opening the package.

It was a plain white t-shirt, a little large for Harry. Harry read a note and smiled widely. He put it on, and whispered, "Activate."

Fire works started exploding across the t-shirt. The note had reminded Harry that he was a 1/3 owner and that he would be entitled to part of any future profits, but also asked him for further suggestions for novelties.

After Harry turned off the t-shirt (which actually did de-activate, to everyone's relief), Titus showed off some of the wands they had made. Turning the wands on a lathe had been simple to teach. Collecting the wyvern feathers was easy, as the wyverns themselves often brought their discarded feathers to the house. The difficulty in wand making wasn't even the spells that combined the two ingredients. Granted, any wand core could be added to any wand. A few went together better than others, and it took a very well-trained and sensitive wizard to accomplish that magic. Titus knew enough to make excellent guesses. There was, however, another way to combine feathers and wands.

In the loft that ran from the wood working shop to over the garage, there was room for thousands of wands, all laid out, about six inches apart, along one side of the loft. Feathers were laid out on the other side. A spell would make the feathers become attracted to the wands themselves. This was a process that could take months or even years. Unprocessed wyvern feathers often became too brittle to use after five or six years, so quite often a feather would never be used.

Trees struck by lightening worked best, followed by branches harvested from living trees. Titus had taught them the basic wand-wright lore, and the combining spells. All four teens had combined at least one wand, and now knew how to make themselves temporary wands in an emergency.

Dumbledore and Pwy went to consult with each other in the study connected to the master suite, Hermione took an eager Remus on a tour of the libraries, while Ron and Sirius set themselves a chess challenge (playing six games simultaneously).

"Well!" Harry said to Ginny, "since it looks like Ron and Hermione are making up, and everyone is busy, it looks like we've been deserted for once."

"Awful to be left alone together," Ginny agreed. She couldn't contain herself any more, and burst into a wide grin. "Marvelous, isn't it?" She grabbed Harry in a tight embrace.

While Ron and Hermione had barely progressed past the hand-holding/light kissing stage, Harry and Ginny were hesitating just short of petting -- but only because they both knew once they started it would be difficult to stop. They had had several deep discussions about the future; with Voldemort after Harry, they would have been irresponsible not to talk about it. Ginny was willing to run the slightly greater risks of being with Harry than to spend one moment more than necessary away from him. It was convincing Harry that had been difficult, if not very time-consuming.

Ginny had turned out in many ways to be the most adept of the four in learning magical combat. Harry had the most skill and power, but his scar pains would no doubt be a drag on him in actual combat. Hermione learned the spells even faster than Harry, although without as much power, but she often over-thought actual situations, which could over-whelm her. She often reminded herself of how she was unable to deal with the Devil's Snare at the end of her First year. Ron tended to dive into situations too fast, and while he was usually then able to think his way out, it was a tendency that could get him killed.

Ginny was the most single-minded in those simulations. Her focus was always the same: protect Harry; protect the others; destroy the enemy. Titus and Sirius saw that in actual combat, she would happily die defending Harry and she would kill defending Harry. If the threat was against Harry, she probably wouldn't even feel much remorse. It did not make Harry feel less concerned for her safety, however.

Combat was the furthest thing from either of Harry's or Ginny's mind at the moment, however. The rain was now a downpour, but it was also fairly warm. "Let's get into our suits and run in the rain!" Ginny suggested.

Harry thought about it and agreed. They left a note on the small table in the kitchen after changing. They brought robes and towels with them to the garage, and wore only their old trainers and bathing suits.

They ran for nearly 20 minutes in the downpour, which found them near the woods to the far south. Ginny's intentions for them didn't materialize once they realized, after some five minutes of heavy petting where Ginny's top 'somehow' came off, that laying in the rain was much colder than running in the rain.

Ginny reluctantly put her top back on, and they ran back to the garage. Harry did drying spells on them, and they spent what was left of the morning kissing gently in the Jacuzzi next to the weight room.

Everyone reassembled at noon for lunch, although this was more of a feast. Granted, there was always plenty of food at Titus' -- hearty English breakfasts; stews or chili for lunch; and five course dinners (light soup; salad; entree, starch, and two veggies; cheese; dessert -- with Titus teaching them a little about good wines and food). None of the meals compared to this lunch. To their surprise, Titus always did a lot of the cooking.

As they were eating smaller slices of the birthday cake, Harry turned to business. "Do I need to go back with you, Professor?"

The rest of the table sat in stunned silence.

"Why, Harry?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"If I had been there, perhaps we'd know why Avery was killed. My scar hasn't really bothered me at all here. I'm too far away to help."

"There's some truth to that," Dumbledore admitted. "However, at least three other men associated with the Death Eaters were killed before you left. Your scar is not an infallible link, Harry. The skills you are learning here are more important than almost anything you are likely to learn from your link. Your dueling technique, I'm told, is now equal to what it would have been by the end of this year. By the time you leave, it will almost be equal to any Hogwarts alumni."

Pwy couldn't let that pass by without comment. He knew that, except for the number of hexes they had yet to learn, they were already the equal of most Hogwarts graduates. "If you are forced to duel with Voldemort again," Titus told Harry, "you will truly defeat him."

"If my scar allows me to think," Harry muttered.

"You will overcome that," Titus said. "We're only going to be flying every other day from now on. The day after tomorrow, we start meditation practice. When we're through, you may even be able to shake off a Cruciatus."

"Why aren't more people trained to do that?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, very few people are willing to go through even what you've gone through the last two weeks. I wasn't sure how well you could be trained until we tried. What you're going through is a light version of Auror training. I'm adding some skills I learned in India, Nepal, and Australia."

"So, we're an experiment," Hermione commented.

"Exactly. After two weeks of meditation, if you succeed, we'll end the flying totally and practice some wandless magical techniques."

"Any other changes?" Ron asked, suspiciously.

"Yes, in fact. Two friends of mine are coming to start a little martial arts training. In four weeks, you won't learn much, but it will help a little. If you learn enough, perhaps we can continue the training on Sundays at Hogwarts. I hope you'll be willing to keep running every morning."

"Does this mean you'll be at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"It does," Dumbledore answered. "We will have a new instructor, and two returning ones."

"Doc is a returning one, right?" Ron asked.

"Err, yes," Dumbledore said. "Your brother will be the new Runes teacher. . . ."

"Bill!" Ginny squealed.

"Yes. He has accepted a four year appointment, although I hope he stays longer. Titus must also take credit for opening the final position."

"I've been trying to make Binns retire since I first heard him teach in Nineteen-ten," Titus growled.

"Really!" Ron exclaimed. "Whomever you get can't be as boring as. . . ." Ron reddened.

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "I hope you will find his replacement acceptable."

"Who is it?" Harry asked.

"I am," Lupin answered. That brought the celebratory mood back to the group.

The next day, after the morning run, Titus sent the quartet upstairs to shower and ordered them to dress in the everyday robes and boots he'd bought them.

Coming down stairs, they thought they might be saying goodbye to Dumbledore and Lupin, but it turned out they'd been gone some time.

"Where're we going?" Ginny asked as they ate a light breakfast.

"Or is someone else coming here?" Hermione asked.

"We're going on a visit," Titus informed them. "The town has several names, many of them secret, or at least supposedly secret. It's most common name is simply Weston."

"Really!" Hermione nearly squeaked in excitement. Ron and Harry rolled their eyes.

"When the Old Believers moved to what is now Maine and Quebec, the common English name for the main settlement was 'the New Town', now simply Newton. So, when they moved west. . . ."

"'The West Town'," Harry said. "Weston."

"Exactly. Now, remember, nearly all of the population are Old Believers; it's their town. You're the strange ones."

"So don't gawk or ask stupid questions," Hermione told them.

All three now rolled their eyes.

"Seriously, some every day items are forbidden. So don't ask for anything; you're going to be seen as odd enough as it is."

Titus led them into the corridor and out a different exit. This was a simpler, more rustic cellar. The only lighting was a magical torch, that burned without scorching the ceiling or wall, much like the ones at Hogwarts.

The stairs led up to the kitchen of a nice-sized cottage. The furnishings made the Burrow seem like a very modern house in comparison.

"Come along, and pretend you can all behave," Titus teased.

The town was much larger than Hogsmeade. Titus had told them that, not including those living at the Sefydliad (which was on the northern edge of town, and which housed around 300 scholars and resident teachers), the town had some 3,000 human residents. The mountain valley it was located in was slightly larger than Titus', and the mountains surrounding it to the east and west even higher.

Titus' cottage was on the southern edge of the settlement. Walking the paved streets (there were no sidewalks), even Ron and Ginny were somewhat surprised by the riot of magical and medicinal flowers and plants in the gardens. All four were slightly unnerved by the stares they got from the few adults working in their yards -- some gardening, others doing light crafts (wood carving and painting, although a group of young women were spinning thread). Nearly all were dressed in much older styles than the robes the quintet were wearing. Ron, Harry, and Ginny made mental notes to ask about the style later, although Harry vaguely recognized it from a Bronze Age 'living museum' his Muggle school had visited once.

They had walked three blocks to hit a main road, and after a mile, the street came to the small commercial section of town. Titus walked them through part of it quickly, saying they'd be back for lunch. Instead, they walked another mile north, where a group of stone buildings quickly came into view. "The Sefydliad," Titus said simply.

Once on the campus, Titus gave them a quick tour. He introduced them to a number of scholars. It seemed that, although Titus had kept himself aloof from the general magical community for over thirty-five years, he'd kept his ties here.

All the scholars he introduced them to, who varied in age from looking almost their age to those who made Dumbledore seem young, were interested in meeting Harry. Harry was polite to all of them. A few expressed hope that Harry might come and study Charms. Titus explained that 'Defense,' as taught at Hogwarts, was part of Charms and Magical Creatures at the Sefydliad. A few of the faculty expressed hope that Hermione might come and study Transfiguration, Arithmancy, or Ancient Symbols and Languages ('Runes' at Hogwarts).

Titus finally turned Harry and Hermione over to two of the permanent scholars. Titus took Ron and Ginny to the top of a massive stone building, which afforded them a panoramic view of the valley.

"It's beautiful," Ginny said simply and sincerely.

Ron was more worried about the implications of the visit. "If Hermione came here to study. . . ."

"What would you do?" Titus completed the idea for him. Ron just nodded.

"If you're a couple, you'd be allowed to come along. I intend to teach you our version of Welsh before we leave in August. . . ."

"We can learn a language in a few weeks?"

Ginny laughed. "Ron, we can learn the basics of a language in a weekend. Don't you ever listen to what Hermione and I tell you about Runes?" Ginny was taking Runes and Muggle Studies as her extra courses.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot. . . ." Ron mumbled.

"As for what you might do, that might present a problem. Weston is the chess center of our world. There are a number of players in a competitive league, but that wouldn't occupy much of your time. The problem is, most of your skills wouldn't be much in demand here, except one."

"And what's that?"

"Do you have the capacity to be bored and to take orders?"

"Him?"

"I can to both, for a good reason, but I need to know the reason."

"See that stone circle to our east?"

They both nodded.

"Weston is a minor religious site. It's also one of the two known Old Believer locations. It's also the location of a major resource for Light Magic, this Sefydliad."

"So?"

"So it needs to be protected!" Ginny told her brother.

"Oh!"

"The valley is well protected. Spouses of scholars are sometimes allowed to join the Sersiants. or guards, although never more than about a tenth of the force is ever Outsiders. Obviously, they are never allowed the more detailed passwords and other classified information."

"How long does a program last?" Ginny asked.

"Two or three years."

Ron figured two years was about the limit he could stand being a border guard. "What would Ginny do, if she and Harry came?" Ron asked. Ginny blushed.

"If she can pick up her Runes grade from a Ninety and get the O.W.L. and the N.E.W.T., plus two O.W.L.s in Charms, Defense, or Transfiguration, they might let her study Runes if she was here with Harry."

"Ah." Ron suddenly realized that no one had suggested that Hermione study Charms here. While she was usually able to pick up a charm quicker than Harry or anyone else, she wasn't able to reach his level once he learned it. If Hermione wasn't good enough to study a subject here, he certainly wasn't. She stood first in their year in every written area, and in the top three of every practical area. Ron was happy to be in the top ten in any thing.

"Cheer up, Ron," Titus said, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You've said you want to be an auror. You wouldn't just be guarding the borders and escorting unapproved visitors and VIPs. They would also be giving you some excellent defensive training. Spend two years here as a sersiant, and it would cut your auror training from a year to two months and the apprenticeship from three years to one. And it would give you two years pay seniority."

"Really?" He frowned. "If Harry came here and went through his 'program,' and then became an auror, what would he get?" Ginny frowned.

"He'd probably also go through the same training as you. If he did, he'd also have the two month training, have a two year apprenticeship instead of your one, and so not have the pay-scale seniority."

"Oh." Ron decided he could live with that.

"Are all the homes as. . .old fashioned as yours?" Ginny asked.

"No, most are more so. I have a variance to have fairly modern plumbing. If any of you were accepted here, I'd let you use my cottage. There are three bedrooms and the bath on the top floor, and a nice study in the attic."

Harry and Hermione came up to the roof, accompanied by a very stout wizard in early middle age and an older, nearly bald wizard, who was very tall and thin. Despite the disparities in size (average height and obese vs. tall and very muscular) the stout wizard and Titus looked somewhat alike.

"Cefnder!" they both exclaimed, and hugged each other.

"Cousin," Hermione whispered.

"Quite right, Hermione. This is my cousin, Tudor Pwy. He's a history, runes, language, and religion specialist here. Tudor, this is Ginny and Ron Weasley. This is Athro Mercher Myrddin, the head of the Sefydliad."

Myrddin merely inclined his head. Tudor was more expansive. "Pleased to meet you both. So, what do you think of our little pentref?"

"Village," Titus corrected, "and the town and the Sefydliad hardly make up just a village, even in a valley this size."

"Cwm," Tudor teased. "Somehow, when I'm here in this beautiful cwm, I have a hard time expressing myself in Saesneg."

"English!" Titus shot back, also teasing.

Myrddin broke in. "Friends, please!" He turned to Harry. "While I realize you may wish to wait until this nasty cnaf Riddle is disposed of, Athro Potter, we would be pleased to have you come here to study Charms whenever you wish. No matter if your future lies with law enforcement or teaching, you and we would benefit. We hope to teach you as much as you wish, about anything we know." He turned to Hermione. "You would also be welcomed here to study Transfiguration, Arithmancy, or what you call Runes, if you make your N.E.W.T. in the subject. Give my regards to McGonagall."

He bowed slightly to all four. He then looked Titus in the eye and said something in their Welsh dialect, and left.

"Glad the old boy is so gracious," Tudor muttered.

Titus smiled. "He hasn't liked me since I publicly pointed out the errors in his first book."

"That was Nineteen forty-six!"

"I know, he was almost pleasant today, for him." The four students often forgot how old Titus really was.

"Anyway," Tudor said happily. "From the look of the sun, it will be noon by the time we get to the bwyty."

"The what?" Ron asked, getting him a dirty look from the other three students. "What? Oh, right, sorry."

"It's sort of a cross between a pub, an inn, and a restaurant," Titus explained as they left the roof. "Which one are we going to?"

"The Broga, of course!"

"We have nine pubs in the valley. Two are for Old Believers only -- I don't know if they'd even let me in, if I were alone!"

"Probably, but some wouldn't like it," Tudor muttered.

"Four are neighborhood places. None of those six have plumbing." All four looked surprised.

"We live much like our ancestors did two thousand years ago, or at least five hundred years ago," Tudor explained.

"Of the three others, all fairly up-to-date, one is here for the use of the scholars of the Sefydliad if they tire of the dining hall, the largest one is across from Gringotts, and the Broga, or the Frog, serves scholars and intellectuals. It would be more like a coffee house in some respects. . . ."

"If we allowed coffee," Tudor said.

"What!" Ron exclaimed.

Tudor started listing. "No coffee and only herbal tea, no sugar, no potatoes, no maize except for cattle feed, no butterbeer, no chocolate or distilled alcohol except in medicines and potions, no bananas or pineapples, no peppers or tomatoes. . . ."

"Actually, those things aren't allowed to be bought, sold, or traded" Titus interrupted. "If it wasn't found in Wales five hundred years ago, it's probably banned from public consumption, although there are a few exceptions."

"Like what?" Tudor demanded.

"We don't allow pumpkin juice, but we do grow pumpkins, and love pumpkin pie, bread, and cake (we use honey instead of sugar), and make jack-o-lanterns. We're tobacco addicts -- you might know that the most harmful aspects of tobacco, other than nicotine addiction, only affect Muggles. We have hot dogs and potato salad on the Fourth of July, and drink butter beer then and on New Years Day. . . ."

"Alright, we're as imperfect as every society."

"Better than most," Titus allowed. "Since they might be coming to study, we should take them to the Evil Shop."

Tudor snorted.

"'Evil shop'?" Hermione asked.

"The Muggle and Magical Shop," Titus explained. "Then you might see what little we allow, and have a feel for living here."

"True, Myrddin was quite taken with you two. You might study here, after all."

"Was he really a Myrddin?" Hermione asked Titus.

"He is." He looked at the other students. "That means he's a direct male descendent of Merlin. In fact, that makes the first use of a surname, as such, in our culture."

"Cool!" Ron said.

"What do you mean, 'taken'?" Hermione was curious.

"If you get your N.E.W.T., you may come," Tudor told her. "You've been conditionally admitted. Mister Potter, well, I'm amazed. . . ."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"First, he called you 'Athro Potter,' which is a huge sign of respect -- I've never heard him use it to anyone less than a senior Druid since he was made the Athro, or master, of the Sefydliad fifteen years ago," Tudor said, still in amazement. "And you may come and study at any time, even without a N.E.W.T. in your field."

"Damn," Harry whispered angrily, surprising Tudor.

"Harry, I can assure you he isn't accepting you because of your reputation," Titus told him. "You've seen how much power you really have already. It's hard for you to tap into at times, but it's getting easier. With the training you can get here, you'll be able to use it, and use it well."

Harry shrugged. "If you say so."

By now, they had come across the small inn. It was dark and cool inside. There were only a few customers, but they had seen a few more people heading their way just before they went in. Tudor had reserved a small parlor for them.

Tudor and Titus conversed with a server in the local dialect for a few moments. He was back almost immediately, with four large trays (which he served the men) and two slightly smaller ones (which he served Ginny and Hermione). He was back almost immediately with platters of fresh and dried fruit, bread, cheeses, and then delivered a pitcher of beer and goblets.

"What is this?" Ron asked, once the man had left them. They each had a pewter tray covered with a thin loaf of bread. The bread was covered with a thick stew.

"Well, this is the standard lunch," Tudor explained with the air of a true expert. "They serve it in four sizes here; the ladies have mediums and we have large, although perhaps we should have gotten Mister Weasley 'the Hungry Plowman,'" he teased. "Today, it's" (he again studied the stew like an expert) "mostly mutton with some chicken and duck, three types of mushrooms, string beans, carrots, peas, turnips, and parsnips. It's over a hard bread that you'd call a trencher in English. We eat the stew, along with the cheeses and some of the soft bread. After you finish eating and scraping the stew, you might eat the trencher with some of the fruit and more cheese, or you might take it home. Some eat it with their dinner. Nearly everyone has crups or dogs, and they love these. A few of the country people have griffins, wyverns, hippogriffs and such, and they like them almost as much. If you don't eat it or take it, they'll feed them to the pigs."

"They also make it easier to clean the trays," Titus teased.

The students shrugged and dug in.

After lunch, Tudor went back to the Sefydliad. Titus took the students to the small Gringotts branch, where he opened the four of them a joint vault. Harry established his identity. If they were students at the Sefydliad, or if they had to take refuge in Weston (Titus had also gotten them approval for that as well), they would have access to some money plus Harry's money in London.

Their last stop was the Muggle and Magical Shop, owned by Titus and some of his family members, and run by a great nephew, Cadfael Pwy. There was a strange array of products. An entirely separate, but connected, shop was a wine and spirit store (obviously one area where they welcomed Muggle products from all over the world). There weren't many other Muggle products. There were Muggle books and magazines on chess, science, and astronomy, and an assortment of glassware. There were also a few standard magical products, mostly books and periodicals. On those few occasions where non-traditional food items and such were permitted, the items came from the store.

Hermione was excited by the prospect studying at the Sefydliad, especially when she remembered that Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall all had Master Certificates from there. (McGonagall, Titus told them, had even been one of Myrddin's first students.) The other three weren't as excited, but soon decided that, if Hermione went, they'd likely come, too.

The next four weeks passed quickly, especially for Harry. He took to the meditation and martial arts practice like a true natural. After some initial difficulties, Hermione started feeling natural during meditation as well, although she made less progress in the martial arts practice than the other three. Ron and Ginny were the inverse of Hermione; they made good progress in the martial arts, but made slow progress in meditation. The witch and wizard who were teaching them both (they never revealed their names) had allowed that they were slightly impressed with Harry, and not overly disappointed with the other three.

Harry had made great stride in wandless magic. The other three at least could summons their wands. Harry also was now completely immune to the Imperius curse. The other three had progressed to the point that only Voldemort was likely to be able to hold them, and even he probably couldn't really command them to do any real harm.

Sirius wasn't looking forward to the students leaving, especially Harry. On the positive side, he had grown closer to his godson than he'd ever thought possible. He had also healed a great deal, especially physically. Pettigrew had been spotted by two more independent witnesses in another failed attack, and Sirius was now officially pardoned.

Sirius wished he could have taken a job at Hogwarts, but Remus' reappointment would cause enough of a stir. At least he was being paid now for his part in the fight against Voldemort -- Titus had pulled some strings with the International and Old Believers.

Sirius watched Harry as he levitated Ginny's trunk down the stairs. That was something else Sirius was glad to see -- there was no way to tell if Harry and Ginny, or Ron and Hermione, would last as a couple. But it was normal; Harry had lived anything other than a normal life. It was good to see.

"Are we ready?" Titus asked the group.

"We're ready," Harry answered after he surveyed the group. The group dynamics had also subtly changed over the previous seven weeks. Harry was even more the leader than he had been, and he accepted the role now. Hermione provided the information and advice he needed; Ron the strategy; Ginny the emotional stability for the entire group; Harry the decision-making. Whatever trouble they were facing, they were well-prepared.