Another City, Not My Own

"ANOTHER CITY, NOT MY OWN"
Epilogue
"In The Week That Followed..."

The week that followed turned out to be one of the busiest and most memorable of Harry's years at Hogwarts.

It seemed as if a shroud of anxiety had been lifted from the school, now that the crisis was over and Professor McGonagall was out of danger. The classes returned to their usual energy, and the students and teachers were once again teaching, learning, and studying with vigor. There was a feeling of things getting back to normal again. A spate of unseasonably warm weather set in, and for the next few days the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall showed clear blue skies over Hogwarts.

Needless to say, Harry couldn't walk down the halls without people shaking his hand, waving to him, patting him on the back, and asking him questions about the broomstick chase in Latrece.

"Did you really fly down a traffic tunnel? Did you really fly through a Muggle marketplace? Is it true that you busted a stained-glass window in a Muggle church? What about the hotel? What about the fountains? What was it like flying through the Muggle parade?"

"Look," Harry said, as many times as he could, "if you want to know the details, just read the account in the Daily Prophet. It's all there! But it wasn't a joyride! Malfoy and his gang were trying to kill us, and we were trying to get away! I'll be lucky if the Ministry of Magic doesn't ship me back to Azkaban and throw away the key for this one."

On Thursday afternoon, to escape the fuss that the other students were making about him, Harry went up to the hospital wing to check on Professor McGonagall. She was asleep, but Madam Pomfrey said that she had slept for several hours now and would probably be waking up soon.

There was a wooden chair next to McGonagall's bed. Harry sat down and waited quietly for a few minutes, resting the back of his head against the wall. Eventually, McGonagall opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Well, well," she said softly.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked.

"I believe the expression is, 'worse than the pits of hell.'"

Harry smiled. "I've been there before. It's good to have you back."

"I understand that I have you to thank for renewing my teaching contract here at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter." McGonagall managed a weak smile. "You'll forgive me, but I hardly think that your concern for my well-being gives you an excuse to fly your broom through a Muggle city and cause a panic among the population. Consider yourself lucky that your escapade with Draco Malfoy took place outside of school grounds. Otherwise, you may be assured, I would be making triple-digit deductions of House Cup points from Gryffindor."

She tried to sound authoritative as she said this, but she was still very weak.

"Just as long as you don't turn me over to the French Ministry of Magic," Harry said dryly. "Last I heard, they were talking about sending me to the Bastille."

"Yes, Albus told me this morning that the French wizard newspapers are having a field day over your little romp in Latrece. Apparently, the editors are writing editorials using words like 'J'Accuse' and 'La Guillotine' in reference to you."

Harry rolled his eyes. I am NEVER going to live this down.

"But I must say," McGonagall continued, "in spite of the damage you've done to Anglo-French wizard relations, I do appreciate your efforts on my behalf, irresponsible and destructive though they may have been."

Harry shrugged. "I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. We all need you here. Dumbledore needs you. You're one of the best of us." Professor McGonagall's hand lay beside her on the bedspread. Harry reached out and grasped it supportively. "Besides, I've still got a lot to learn from you. And you've still got a lot of young wizards to teach."

"Well, I hope you don't think I'm going to go easy on you in Transfiguration class from now on, simply because you saved my life," said McGonagall. "You realize, of course, I'll have to give everyone extra assignments when I return to teaching next week, to make up for the homework that you all missed so terribly during my absence."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," said Harry, grinning. "Actually, Professor, I wasn't the only one who saved your life. A lot of people helped to keep you alive until I could bring the Chimaera's Root back."

He quickly told her how Hagrid, Jeremy Wight, and Cho Chang had helped him to capture the owl that had scratched her in the Owlery; how Ginny, Hermione, and Neville had come up with the Ioreth's Root treatment; how Dobby the House Elf had told him where to find the Chimaera's Root and how to get to it; and how the Delacour family had helped him to steal the Chimaera's Root and bring it back in time for Professor Sprout and Professor Snape to make the antidote.

"Well," McGonagall said, impressed. "I may have to take out an ad in the Daily Prophet expressing my gratitude to everyone."

At the far end of the hospital wing, the door opened. Gabrielle Delacour poked her head in. Harry smiled. He had sent Dobby down to the Delacours' yacht to fetch her. He motioned for her to come in. Gabrielle came down the aisle between the rows of hospital beds, and stood next to Harry's chair.

"Here, Professor," Harry said. "You can start by thanking this young lady. This is the bravest little girl in the world."

Professor McGonagall looked up from her bed and smiled. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Gabrielle. It is very good to see you again."

She held out her hand. Gabrielle took it, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Harry listened for a few minutes as they spoke with each other in French. He couldn't understand their conversation, but the glowing looks on their faces as they talked was all he needed for the moment.

* * *

The Delacour family stayed for the weekend at Hogwarts. They took rooms at the Three Broomsticks at Hogsmeade (in spite of the warm weather, it was still too cold at night to sleep on their yacht), but spent much of their time at the school.

On Wednesday afternoon, while Harry Potter was still asleep in Gryffindor Tower, a team of house-elves, headed by Dobby and Winky, descended on the Maquis Mouse II to clean the yacht and check it for any damage. They reported that the boat was in good condition, and praised the thorough work of the Delacours' house-elves, who had assisted Monsieur Delacour in applying water seals to the doors, windows, and portholes of the ship during the previous summer.

While their yacht was being cleaned, the Delacours were welcomed as honored guests at Hogwarts. They received a tour of the school on Wednesday evening, conducted by Ginny and Hermione. The Delacours were especially happy to finally meet Ginny, whom they had heard so much about from her brother Bill. Gabrielle also remembered Hermione from the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament a couple of years before.

* * *

It turned out that Harry did not have to appear before the English Ministry of Magic to explain his actions in Latrece. On Thursday morning, the day after he arrived back at Hogwarts, Arthur Weasley went to bat for him at the Ministry offices in London. Bill Weasley wrote Harry a short letter describing his father's meeting with the Ministry council. The letter arrived at Hogwarts via Bill's owl, Ramses, on Thursday night.

You should've been there, Harry!

Bill wrote. Dad can be quite a bully when the mood takes him. He stood up before the Ministry council and yelled at them for almost half an hour. His face got so red that he looked like a thermometer with the mercury pushed to the top. I was half-afraid he'd have a stroke. He told them: "I KNOW Harry Potter, and the boy is neither crazy, nor is he reckless or stupid. In fact, he's smarter and far more sensible than anyone in this room! So if he flew his broom through the city of Latrece in full view of a bunch of Muggles, you may take my word for it that he must have had a damn good reason for doing so!"

"Now I know all of you! I know how your bloody one-track minds work! So listen up, because I'm only going to say this once! YOU--WILL--LEAVE--THE--BOY--ALONE! Do you understand?! You will NOT start harassing him with your silly torments and petty persecutions! He has enough to worry about right now without having to face an inquisition trial from a bunch of sour old geezers like you fellows! And if I hear that ANYONE in this council is even THINKING of bringing charges against Harry for violating the Underage Wizard codes, I will personally devote myself and my office to complicating their lives in ways that they cannot imagine, AS YOU KNOW I CAN! That is all I have to say about this matter! Good day, gentlemen!"

Harry heard nothing more about the incident in Latrece until two weeks later. The French Ministry of Magic sent him a letter by owl, asking for an explanation in writing for his conduct during his trip to France. They understood that he had been acting to save his own life and the life of his teacher, they said, but they still wished to know the circumstances that had led to the broomstick chase. If Harry felt that it would be better to give his explanation in person, they said, they would gladly pay for his transportation to Paris to appear before the French Ministry and give his testimony.

Harry wrote out a detailed account of what had happened in Latrece and gave it to Dumbledore, who used a translation spell to convert the written statement into flawless French. He respectfully declined the French Ministry's invitation to come to Paris and give his statement in person. He had read A Tale Of Two Cities.

* * *

Gabrielle Delacour spent much of the rest of the week wandering the halls of Hogwarts. Harry saw her in the Great Hall on Thursday morning, talking to a group of first-year girls at the Gryffindor table, asking them about their classes and the homework they were doing. He also saw her later that day, talking to some Hufflepuff boys in the library, and with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. Harry knew she was asking a lot of questions because she was anxious to get to Beauxbatons that fall to begin her own magical education.

Gabrielle also talked at length with many of the talking paintings at Hogwarts, including the Fat Lady who guarded Gryffindor Tower. It turned out that she had been painted by a well-known Parisian wizard artist, and spoke fluent French. The ghosts at Hogwarts also reported having spirited conversations with the young French visitor. Nearly-Headless Nick, in particular, was delighted by her.

"She's the most charming girl, Harry," Nick said later. "Do you know she never once called me 'Nearly-Headless Nick?' She referred to me as 'Monsieur Nicolas' the whole time we were talking. I found it rather flattering! We both agreed that if my executioner had been French, I wouldn't have had any problem. Those French headsmen always did know how to make a good clean slice. Of course, you had to pay them a hefty fee for the job. I suppose that's why my own executioner took his time with me. I'd spent all my money on lawyers, you see, trying to get a stay of execution, so by the day of my beheading I was nearly broke! When I got to the chopping block, I could only pay the headsman a few small Sickles. The poor man was miffed beyond all reason, so he gave me forty-five whacks with his axe!

"Er, you had to pay somebody to behead you?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't you know, Harry? Back then, if you were beheaded, you had to pay your own executioner--in advance, of course. Yes, we called it a 'severance tax' in those days."

* * *

On Friday afternoon, Hermione Granger--who was serving as substitute teacher for Professor McGonagall's basic Transfiguration classes--reported that Gabrielle had sat in on her class for the Gryffindor first-years that morning.

"She came up to me just before the class started and asked if she could sit in the back and watch as I gave my lesson. To tell the truth, I felt trapped, Harry! I mean, she's a nice girl and all that, but--well, she's part veela, for heaven's sake! Of course you know the whole school is talking about her. Everyone's been asking her questions about what happened in Latrece. And it's hard enough being a substitute teacher on a good day! I said to myself: 'If I let her stay, no one will pay any attention to me! I'll spend the whole hour stepping on the boys' tongues as I walk around the classroom, or whacking them over their heads with their Transfiguration textbooks, trying to snap them out of the veela spell!'"

"But I couldn't say 'No' to her, because she'd asked me in front of the whole class. Everyone was staring at us. What was I supposed to do? Tell her she had to leave? Send her away in tears? Oh, that would be a great start to the lesson! All the kids would think that I was some kind of bossy tyrant! Don't you dare laugh, Harry Potter!"

"So anyway, I finally told Gabrielle that she could stay and watch as long as she didn't make any noise. She went to the back of the class--and of course, everyone's head turned to watch her. She sat down next to Jeremy Wight. I swear, the poor boy looked as if he was going to have a heart attack. So then I said, in a loud voice, 'Now, everyone, if you'll all turn around and look at me again!'"

"And then, the strangest thing happened: Gabrielle looked at me, and focused her attention on me. She started listening to what I was saying. And when the rest of the class saw that she was listening to me, they turned around and listened as well. And from that point on, the lesson went very smoothly. A few boys kept looking over their shoulders at her, but for the most part, everyone concentrated on the lesson and learned what I had to teach them. Jeremy Wight kept his eyes riveted on me the whole time. I think he was afraid his face would go red if he looked at Gabrielle sitting beside him!"

"We were doing egg-to-teacup transfiguration. You remember that lesson from our first year, don't you? Remember how the eggs kept exploding when we tried to transfigure them? (Well, everyone's egg except mine exploded. My egg turned into a teacup like it was supposed to, of course.) But anyway, it's always a fun lesson for the first-years because at the end of class, everyone is covered with egg yolk."

"So this morning, I had the eggs sitting in egg cups on the students' desks. I also had a large supply of clean towels handy, because I knew we'd need them. And I showed the class how to do the spell: 'Ad Poculum, De Ovum!' Then I had the students try it. A few of the kids got it right on the first try. Their eggs turned into teacups! Some of the eggs exploded, of course. Some of them turned briefly into teacup-like shapes for a few seconds, and then reverted back into eggs. Elwood Hickenlooper--you know, that boy who reminds me of a young Neville Longbottom--well, he tapped his egg with his wand, and it cracked open, and out popped a yellow baby chick! And Elwood moaned, 'Oh, bloody hell! I can't do anything right!'"

"Each time an egg exploded, I handed that student a towel and a new egg. When almost everyone in the class had turned their eggs into teacups, I showed them how to do the reverse spell: 'Ad Ovum, De Poculum!'"

"Gabrielle paid very close attention during the whole lesson. She listened to me, and watched the students doing their transfigurations. She sat in the back and didn't make any trouble. She actually seemed very interested in what was going on. Jeremy was sitting beside her, and he had no trouble at all turning his egg into a teacup and back again. At the end of the lesson, he offered Gabrielle his wand and suggested that she have a go at it. Gabrielle tapped Jeremy's egg with the wand, and it turned into a teacup on the very first try! It was a perfect transfiguration!"

"Then she tried the reverse spell. The teacup changed back into an egg shape and lay there on the desk in front of her. For a second, it looked as if she had done it. And then suddenly the egg exploded--Bang!--and it covered her face with egg yolk! Now, I think it might have worked for her if she hadn't been using another wizard's wand, if she'd had a wand of her own, you know? I gave her a towel and she wiped her face off. She was laughing so hard. She said, 'I guess it is like ze omelette! You cannot make a teacup wizzout breaking a few eggs!'"

* * *

On Friday afternoon, Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley came up from London on the Hogwarts Express. Arthur and Molly Weasley came up with them. Fleur was anxious for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to meet her parents. Monsieur and Madame Delacour greeted the party at the train station in Hogsmeade. Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Fleur took the remaining available rooms at the Three Broomsticks for the weekend. With special permission from Professor Dumbledore, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione went down to Hogsmeade on Friday evening to join the two families for dinner at the tavern.

As Harry had predicted, Fleur was especially proud of her sister for having helped him to open the crystal lock at the Chateau Malfoy. When Gabrielle arrived at the Three Broomsticks with Harry, Ginny, and Hermione (she had spent the late afternoon on a tour of the Hogwarts kitchens conducted by Dobby), Fleur swept her sister into a bear hug and did not stop kissing or praising her for a full five minutes.

"Oh, my petite soeur, you are so wonderful! I knew you could 'elp 'Arry, I just knew you could do it! You are such a little heroine!"

Madam Rosmerta served an excellent meal to the two families, starting with mushroom popovers and steaming bowls of country vegetable soup. The main course was a choice of trout with walnut stuffing or Scottish salmon with herb butter. Dessert was a banana blancmange flavored with crème de menthe.

Throughout the meal, Bill and Fleur kept pressing Gabrielle for details about the broomstick chase through Latrece. She answered their questions as best she could, providing them with a more vivid account of the flight through the city than the newspapers had reported. She seemed slightly flustered by the attention that she was getting at the dinner table. Harry broke his silence about the events in Latrece just long enough to tell the party about Gabrielle's opening of the crystal lock in the Chateau Malfoy, and about her various acts of heroism during the chase.

He was pleased to see that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Monsieur and Madame Delacour were getting along very well. One of Harry's favorite moments in the evening came when Madame Delacour asked Mrs. Weasley about her house. Mrs. Weasley described the Burrow--its foundation problems, its leaky roof, the crumbling chimneys that needed new magic charms to hold them up.

"It's not really much of a house to begin with, I'm afraid," Mrs. Weasley commented sadly.

Madame Delacour interrupted her. "I am sorry, Molly, but I simply cannot believe that. If you have raised seven children there, it must be a wonderful house! I mean...look at Bill and Mademoiselle Ginny here. You could not have raised such fine children if your house were not a special place. And Harry, he tells us how you and Arthur have been like parents to him, how you have welcomed him into your family. He would not speak so highly of you if your house were not a place where he could feel the love that your family shares, where he could be a part of that love."

"It is true, I have never been to your house, but I can imagine what it is like. I think it is full of rooms where you can sit with your family and enjoy the time you spend together. You probably have shelves full things that remind you of your children--pictures of them, mementos of things they have done that made you proud. Of course, such things are of no value to anyone else--but to you, they are priceless. I think that no matter what kind of shape your home is in, it must be a very rich house."

* * *

Later that night, while Mrs. Weasley was unpacking in her room at the inn, assisted by Ginny and Hermione, Arthur Weasley drew Harry aside in the hallway. "I've got some news. The day after your little incident in Latrece, the French Ministry Aurors raided the Chateau Malfoy. But Draco and Narcissa and their friends got away again. The good news is, they only managed to take about half the contents of the secret chamber in the wine cellar with them this time."

Harry sighed, disappointed, and leaned against the wall. Mr. Weasley smiled and put a hand on his arm. "You should count this whole episode as a victory, Harry. You saved McGonagall. And the Malfoys are on the run again. Bill and Fleur are already working on tracking them down. It takes time, but sooner or later, their kind always run out of places to hide."

Harry nodded. "By the way, thanks for defending me at the Ministry, yesterday."

"It was my pleasure." Mr. Weasley glanced towards the door of his room, as if to make sure his wife wasn't listening. He gave Harry a mischievous look. "Don't tell Molly I said this--but I wish to heaven that I'd been there to see the looks on the faces of all those Muggles when you flew through the Carnival parade."

Mrs. Weasley, of course, was not quite as appreciative of Harry's adventure. "Why do you do these things to me, Harry?" she asked, when he stepped into her room to bid her goodnight. "It's bad enough that I have to worry about my own children! Do you know that, on our family clock, Ron's and Charlie's hands have swung over to 'Mortal Peril' a dozen times this month? I have no idea what they're doing out there in Romania. And then I open the morning paper a few days ago and find out that you're in trouble again! I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

Harry put his arms around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Forgive me, Molly," he said, sincerely. "I don't mean to scare you when these things happen. They just--happen! If it's any comfort to you, I have one goal in this world. Some day, somehow--I promise you--I'm going to learn how to lead a very dull life."

* * *

On Saturday morning, Harry came back from Quidditch practice to find Gabrielle in the Gryffindor common room. She sat on a couch near the fireplace, surrounded by an audience of Gryffindor students. They were listening in rapt attention as she gave a dramatic account of Harry's broomstick flight through the marketplace in Latrece.

"Ze Muggles were jumping out of ze way! We flew right over zeir heads! Zey were all screaming and yelling! Zey were démente! Zey were perdre la boule!"

The Gryffindor students roared with laughter. They might not have understood every word that Gabrielle was saying, but from her animated storytelling, they got the idea of what had happened.

Not wanting to be seen while Gabrielle was telling her story, Harry stood out of sight, just inside the small entrance hallway that led from the common room to the portrait hole. He glanced around the corner at the crowd.

Ginny wasn't there. She had gone shopping in Hogsmeade that morning with her mother and Madame Delacour. But Hermione was leaning against a wall just across from the entrance hallway. She spotted Harry and walked over to him.

"Your legend is growing," she whispered, smiling.

"How did she get in here?" Harry asked, nodding around the corner at Gabrielle.

"I think some first-year girls let her in about an hour ago. Then, of course, everyone started begging her for details about what happened in Latrece. She finally gave in and started telling them about it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just what I need. My own personal biographer. Next she'll be negotiating a book deal with Flourish and Blotts."

"That might not be a bad idea," said Hermione. "The Adventures of My Friend, Harry Potter. It might become a best-seller. She could write a whole series of books about you."

Harry looked at her, skeptically. "Come on. Who in the world would ever want to read a bunch of books about a boy with glasses and a scar on his forehead who flies around on a broom and does magic?"

"Maybe you're right," said Hermione, with a shrug. "By the way, have you talked to Sirius since you got back?"

"I tried to call him last night, after we got back from the tavern. I used the fire to call Remus Lupin's house," Harry said, nodding towards the fireplace. "But Sirius wasn't there. Remus says that the Order of the Phoenix has him off on some special undercover mission somewhere."

"And what did Professor Lupin have to say about your little trip to the Carnival?"

Harry tried unsuccessfully to hold back his amusement. He snorted, thinking of Lupin's face in the fire the night before. "That werewolf son-of-a-bitch just about died laughing! Then he looked at me through the fire and he said, 'Only you, Harry Potter! Only you!'"

For a few minutes, he and Hermione leaned against the entrance hallway wall together, sniggering madly. Then Harry glanced around the corner again. Gabrielle was now telling her audience about the chase through the lemon orchard. Jeremy Wight, Harry noticed, was sitting in a nearby armchair, watching Gabrielle and listening very closely.

"I hope she remembers to tell them about all the great things she did when she was with me in Latrece," he whispered.

Hermione looked around the corner at Gabrielle. "You'll miss her when she goes, won't you?"

"Like a fiber gone from my heart," Harry said softly.

* * *

The sun was shining over Hogwarts on Sunday afternoon. With such unusual spring-like weather, the students found it impossible to stay indoors. The cold wind and rain would return soon enough, they knew; so it was best to get out and enjoy this day of sunshine while it lasted. The shores of Hogwarts lake were covered with students, sitting on blankets and under trees as they studied their textbooks or talked with each other about the events of the past week.

Harry politely turned down an invitation to join Monsieur Delacour, Arthur and Bill Weasley, and Hagrid for a drink at the Three Broomsticks. He had a makeup Arithmancy exam scheduled for Monday, and he had to review for it. But the day was too nice to spend indoors. So Harry spent the afternoon lying on the sun deck of the Maquis Mouse II, flipping idly through his textbooks. He felt the tension from the previous week drain from his body, and the sunlight renewed his energy as if he were a solar cel absorbing its power. His physical bruises were slowly healing as well, and it felt good to lie in the sun and do something completely dull. (Studying Arithmancy definitely counted in that respect.)

After a while, Madame Delacour called him down to the aft deck, where she and Mrs. Weasley had been enjoying the afternoon. Harry descended the ladder, and Madame Delacour handed him a glass of lemonade. "Fleur just made this for us."

"Thank you," Harry said. Behind him, he heard loud giggling from inside the ship. He stepped in through the open door into the salon.

Ginny and Hermione were sitting on tall stools in front of the galley counter, talking with Fleur, who was stirring another pitcher of lemonade. (Hermione seemed to have forgiven Fleur for being the object of Ron's affections during her first visit to Hogwarts a few years ago.)

As soon as Harry walked in, the giggling abruptly ceased. All three girls looked as if they were holding in their laughter.

"Hi," Harry said, pleasantly. "What are you talking about in here?"

Ginny gave a casual shrug. Her face was almost as red as her hair. "Oh, nothing much. Just--you know--things."

"Oh. Things," Harry said, nodding as if he understood.

"How's the studying going?" Hermione asked.

"It's going okay," said Harry. He raised his glass. "Thanks for the lemonade, Fleur."

"You are welcome, 'Arry." Fleur mumbled, looking away from him. Her mouth was very tight, as if she were hiding a smile.

Harry turned and walked back out onto the aft deck. The moment he stepped out the door, an explosion of giggles sounded from the galley.

Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a small chair on one side of the aft deck. She glanced curiously at the open door. "What are they laughing about in there?"

Harry shrugged. "They're laughing at me. Ginny and Hermione are probably telling Fleur about all the stupid things I've ever done here at Hogwarts."

Leaning against the port side rail, Madame Delacour pointed to the open door. "I heard them say something about a dwarf with a harp who sang you a love song?"

Harry winced, and took a long sip of his lemonade. Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Don't feel too bad, Harry. They were talking about Ron a little while ago. I distinctly heard Hermione use the word 'straitjacket' in reference to him."

Harry chuckled at this. Madame Delacour looked towards the castle. "I see my Gabrielle has made a new friend."

Across the lawn, Jeremy Wight was standing with Gabrielle near the south wing entrance. He was pointing up to the top of the wall, where the effigies of the four Hogwarts founders had been carved in stone just underneath the cornices. Jeremy seemed to have overcome his initial shyness towards Gabrielle and was now talking to her like an old friend.

"Do you know that boy, Harry?" Madame Delacour asked.

"Yes, his name's Jeremy Wight," Harry said, with a smile. "He's a Gryffindor first-year." He told Madame Delacour and Mrs. Weasley about Jeremy and his special gift to communicate with animals.

"Oh, I remember his uncle Siegfried very well," said Mrs. Weasley. "He was Head Boy during my fourth year here at Hogwarts He was one of the smartest people Arthur and I ever knew here. It sounds like young Jeremy comes from good stock."

"He must be a very sharp young man, if he's able to make friends with Gabrielle so quickly," Madame Delacour commented.

Harry watched as Jeremy pointed out the blue glass dome at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He was probably explaining to Gabrielle how, on sunny days like this one, the rays of sunlight shone in through the glass dome and created a crisscross pattern of light on the planetarium floor that could be used as a sundial. Gabrielle seemed to be listening very closely to her new friend.

"I just realized something," Harry said to Madame Delacour. "She's not using her veela charms, is she? I mean, she could use them if she wanted to, but she not."

Madame Delacour nodded. "Gabrielle is a very smart girl. She knows that friendships inspired by veela charms are not true friendships. She does not use her veela charms to make friends, because she wants people to like her for herself."

Harry watched Gabrielle very closely, then turned and looked out over the sparkling surface of the Hogwarts lake.

None of this would have happened if I hadn't brought her up from the bottom of the lake two years ago,

he thought. I wouldn't have gained Fleur's trust, and she wouldn't have sent her family to help me when I really needed it. Professor McGonagall would probably be dead right now if the Delacours' hadn't helped me.

He stared into his glass of lemonade for a moment. I'm going to remember this time. Dumbledore says, "It is our choices that show us what we truly are, far more than our abilities." If that's true, then I should never hesitate to make a choice to do what is right. Sometimes, that choice will have bad consequences--like it did when I spared Peter Pettigrew's life. But I have to believe that doing what is right will pay off in ways that I can never foresee. I have to put my faith in that. I have to be true to what I am.

He stood on the aft deck, and for the first time in a very long while, he felt whole and sane.

"You needn't worry, Molly," Madame Delacour was saying to Mrs. Weasley now. "Fleur does not use her veela charms on your Bill."

"Are you sure?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "He seems quite enchanted with her."

Madame Delacour shook her head, smiling. "I could tell if she were using veela magic on him. But Fleur knows that Bill is a special young man. She wants to know that his love for her is real--that it is not a false feeling that she has inspired with her veela magic." She looked at Harry. "You were worried about Gabrielle?"

"Maybe a little," Harry admitted. "I don't want Jeremy to like her just because she's part veela. I want him to like her because she's a wonderful girl."

As they watched, Jeremy and Gabrielle ran up the steps to the south wing entrance. Jeremy held the door open for Gabrielle as they went inside.

"Where are they going now?" Madame Delacour asked.

"He's probably taking her up to the Astronomy Tower," Harry guessed.

"He's taking her WHERE?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, in a shocked voice.

Me and my big, stupid mouth!

Harry chided himself. He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "I think he's just taking her up there to show her the planetarium."

"Excuse me," Madame Delacour asked curiously. "Is something wrong with them going up to the Astronomy Tower?"

"You want to tell her, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley, her eyes twinkling.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well--nothing's wrong. The Astronomy Tower is sort of a--well, it's sort of a meeting place for boys and girls here at Hogwarts. I mean, for older boys and girls--who are my age, you know? They meet up in the planetarium and they--well, they kiss under the stars up there."

"They do a bit more than kiss," Mrs. Weasley said, slyly. "When you meet your girl in the Astronomy Tower, it usually means you're getting very serious with her."

Madame Delacour looked at Harry in shock. "And this boy, this Jeremy--he is taking my Gabrielle up there now?!"

"I think he's just taking her up there to show her the planetarium," Harry reassured her. "Jeremy's only been here a year. I don't think he even knows that the Astronomy Tower is where--I mean--look, you don't have to worry. Jeremy's a born country gentleman. He'll treat Gabrielle like a lady, and then some. She couldn't be in better hands. No, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant--well, you know what I meant!"

He looked around for an escape route. "Look, I'd better get back to studying my Arithmancy." He handed his empty lemonade glass to Madame Delacour and started back up the ladder to the sun deck.

"Oh, by the way, Harry?" said Mrs. Weasley, fixing him with that tiger-like stare that she often used on her husband or her sons when they were trying to hide something from her. "Have you been up to the Astronomy Tower recently?"

Harry stopped halfway up the ladder, and looked down at her. He gulped. A few months ago, he and Ginny had gone up to the Astronomy Tower for the first time. They had spent a very sweet hour together under the planets and galaxies there. But that was the last thing he wanted to tell Ginny's mother.

"Er, only for my astronomy classes," he said, innocently.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, I had to do a report on the different types of stars in the universe. So I've been up in the Astronomy Tower studying redheads--uhh, red dwarfs!"

He quickly started up the ladder again. Mrs. Weasley called up after him, "Better be careful, Harry. Lay a hand on my girl, and I guaruntee--you will see stars!"

* * *

On Monday morning, Harry sat down next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling overhead showed clouds moving in. There were signs that the spell of warm weather was ending.

"Good morning, mon petite amie," Harry said, as he sat down.

"Would you stop calling me that?" Ginny asked, with an exasperated half-smile

"What, you don't want me to call you my 'best girl?'"

Ginny rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Yes, of course I want you to call me your 'best girl'--always and forever." She punched him lightly on the arm. "Just do it in bloody King's English, for heaven's sake!"

"When are your parents leaving?" Harry asked.

"They're taking the Express back to London this afternoon, after Fleur sees her parents off in the boat. What time are the Delacours leaving, by the way?"

"Just after lunch, I think. They're going to use the Whirlpool to get back to the English Channel. Then they're going to sail the yacht down the Seine to Paris. Monsieur Delacour has a friend with a boathouse on the river. He can store the boat there until summer."

"Oh, by the way," said Ginny, "I still have those socks that you asked me to pick up for you in Hogsmeade. I bought the most outrageous pairs I could find. Red with bouncing purple polka dots, white with flashing orange neon zigzags--that sort of thing."

"Perfect," Harry said, taking a croissant from a bowl on the table. "I'll mix 'em up and give 'em to Dobby later today."

"Has Winky forgiven you for the little incident with the hammer?" Ginny asked.

Harry opened his croissant--and discovered a small note inside. This was Dobby's usual method of contacting him now. How Dobby always knew exactly which roll or croissant Harry would pick out of the bowl on the Gryffindor table was a mystery to him.

But when Harry opened this particular note, he discovered that it wasn't from Dobby.

Dear Harry Potter, sir,

You will not be giving my husband any more hammers to hold, if you knows what's good for you, Harry Potter, sir.

Winky.

"Uhh, no," Harry said, ruefully. "She hasn't forgiven me yet."

Ginny read the note and laughed. "I figured she might still be a bit miffed at you. So I got Winky a new tea cozy when I picked up the socks in Hogsmeade. You know she likes to use tea cozies as hats. I figured you can give it to her as a peace offering."

"Bless you," Harry said, smiling.

At that moment, Cho Chang sat down across from them at the Gryffindor table. "Hey, Harry! I've just been talking to Gabrielle Delacour."

"Oh, no, " Harry said, wincing.

"It's all true, isn't it?" Cho asked. "Everything the newspapers say about what happened in Latrece? It all really happened, didn't it? You really flew through an amusement park?"

"Yes, we flew through an amusement park. And a parade! And an open market! We flew through everything except a bloody automobile factory!"

"Oh, you are so lucky!" said Cho. "I am so jealous, Harry. It must have been one hell of a ride."

Harry held up his hands. "Cho, it was a suicide run crossed with a Three Stooges chase! I was Charlie Chaplin, and Malfoy and his friends were the bloody Keystone Kops chasing after us. The only reason they didn't kill us was that they were bungling through the town just as badly as we were."

"You can't fool me," Cho said, smiling. "You got to fly your broomstick through a Muggle town in full view of everybody. The rest of us can only dream of that! Don't try to tell me that, deep in your heart, you didn't enjoy it!"

Harry sighed. "Okay, I enjoyed it. I also hope I never have to do anything like that ever again!"

Cho shook her head. "You know what your problem is, Harry Potter? You don't like being a hero."

"Never have, never will."

At that moment, several students at the Gryffindor table stood up and started applauding. Professor McGonagall had just entered the Great Hall, leaning on Hagrid's arm for support. She still looked a bit weary, but it was obvious that her strength was coming back. She smiled and waved, reddening slightly as the students and teachers in the Great Hall hailed her return. Harry, Ginny, and Cho stood up and cheered wildly as Hagrid led McGonagall to her customary seat at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore held her chair out for her, and helped her to sit down.

As the applause died down and the students returned to their seats, Professor McGonagall looked over at the Gryffindor table. She smiled at Harry and gave him a grateful wave. Harry waved back.

"No, you don't like being a hero, Harry," Ginny said, as they sat down again. "But you'll never stop being one when we really need it. Will you?"

Harry looked at her. He said nothing, but took her hand and squeezed it.

"Good morning all!" said Hermione Granger. She sat down next to Cho, across from Harry and Ginny. "You're looking at the happiest girl in Hogwarts, today!"

"Why?" Harry asked. "Did all your professors give you ten extra assignments?"

"Nice try, Harry. But you'll never be as good as Ron. Now, he would have said something like, 'Have the house-elves elected you their queen?' Or 'Did Gilderoy Lockhart send you an engagement ring?'"

"Sorry. I'm not very good at put-downs."

"Well, you don't have to worry. The master is returning!"

Harry stared at her, and his eyebrows shot up. "Ron?!"

Hermione nodded, and passed him a folded note. "I got the owl this morning. Don't worry. I checked its talons for poison first."

Harry opened the note and read:

Dear Hermione, Harry, and Ginny:

Just wanted to send you a note to let you know I'm okay. I'll be coming home soon, although I'm not sure if it will be by portkey, or Floo Powder, or by Muggle airplane. They're still working out the details here in Romania.

I've made some new friends here--friends who could really help us when the time comes that we need help. I don't want to say any more than that in this letter. I'll tell you all about it when I get home.

These past few weeks has been very scary for me. There were times when I was sure I'd never see my friends or my home again. I'm looking forward to getting back to school, and to a normal life--with no dragons!

Charlie's fine, by the way. He's staying here in Romania. He sends his love to you, Ginny. See you all soon.

--Ron.

P.S. Harry, you and I will have words when I get back! How could you even THINK of going to the Carnival in Latrece without your best friend?

"Gee, news travels fast, doesn't it?" Harry commented.

"Boy, Ron must really have had a rough time in Romania, if he's looking forward to getting back to school!" Ginny added.

"Hermione, you should start singing that old song," said Cho. She started clapping in rhythm and singing, "My boy-friend's back and you're gonna be in trouble!"

"Hey-La! Hey-La! My boyfriend's back!" Hermione joined in, laughing.

"Er, that's a Muggle song, right?" Ginny asked, sheepishly.

"Yes," Cho said, giggling, as she stood up with Hermione. "C'mon, Ginny, we'll teach it to you." She gestured to Harry. "After all, your boyfriend's come back too."

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek, and followed Cho and Hermione as they headed for the door. "See you later."

"So long, 'Wizard-ettes'," Harry called after them.

* * *

Later that morning, after his Arithmancy makeup exam, Harry went down to the Hogwarts lake. He took the Firebolt X300 that he had brought back from Latrece with him. The sky was slowly filling with gray-white clouds, and the lake surface was like a long, cool slab of granite. The Maquis Mouse II sat gleaming white and ready for travel next to the dock.

Madame Delacour stood on the dock, talking with Mrs. Weasley. Gabrielle stood beside her mother. Monsieur Delacour was on the aft deck of the ship, taking suitcases from Mr. Weasley, who was passing them over the side rail.

When Gabrielle spotted Harry, she smiled and ran to him. "Bonjour, 'Arry!"

"Care to walk with me a minute?" Harry asked, waving to Madame Delacour and Mrs. Weasley.

"Is getting colder, now," Gabrielle said, as they walked along the lake shore. She shivered a bit, and her silver hair blew slightly in the breeze.

"Yeah, the weather's getting back to normal around here," said Harry. "You've had a good time at Hogwarts, haven't you?"

"I like it 'ere," said Gabrielle, looking up at the castle. "Ze people at zis school are very friendly. Is a little colder zan what I am used to, but I like it. "

There was a stone bench on the lake shore, under an old oak tree. Harry and Gabrielle sat down together. Gabrielle looked at the Firebolt in Harry's hands. "Is zat ze broom zat--?"

"Yes, this is the one that we stole from the Malfoys," Harry said. "The one we used on our little tour de Latrece."

"Will you use it to play Quidditch?"

Harry shook his head. "I already have a Firebolt. I thought I'd give this one to someone who could really use it."

He held out the broom to Gabrielle. She took it and looked at him, startled.

"I talked it over with your parents last night," Harry explained. "They agreed that you could have it. There's a few rules you'll have to obey; they'll go over them with you. Rule Number One is that until you go to school this fall, you can't use this broom without your Mum or Dad watching."

He reached out and touched the handle of the broomstick. "But you take this broom, Gabrielle--and you learn how to fly. Something tells me you'll be very good at it. Maybe you could even learn how to play Quidditch and be a Seeker for the one of the house teams at Beauxbatons."

Gabrielle looked at her new broom, and smiled. "I don't know. After you 'ave flown a Firebolt through ze Carnival parade in Latrece--well--Quidditch, it seems a bit dull, does it not?"

They both laughed for a long time at that. Gabrielle set her new broom against the bench. She put her arms around Harry's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Merci, 'Arry. You know, I will miss you very much after we leave today."

"I'll miss you, too," Harry told her. "We made a great team, didn't we?"

Gabrielle nodded. She looked past his shoulder to the castle. "Oh! 'Ere comes Jeremy!"

Harry turned. Jeremy Wight was coming down the stone steps from the south wing entrance. He waved to them. Harry and Gabrielle waved back.

"I noticed that you two seemed to have become good friends," said Harry.

"Oui, Jeremy is a very nice boy. I like 'im a lot. But tell me, 'Arry. Does 'e have--'ow do you say--a speech problem?"

"A speech problem?"

"Sometimes when we are talking, Jeremy--well, 'e stutters a bit. 'E trips over 'is tongue, as zey say."

Harry grinned. "I wouldn't worry about that, Gabrielle. I think he'll get over it soon enough."

Jeremy came to a halt beside the stone bench. He looked at Gabrielle, smiling. "Good morning." Then he turned to Harry. "Congratulations! You're a grandfather!"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "The eggs?"

"Both of them hatched this morning. Mother and owlchicks are doing fine."

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "C'mon, you two. I've got to see this."

* * *

As they climbed the steps to the Hogwarts Owlery, Harry said to Jeremy, "I was telling Gabrielle I'm glad you two have hit it off so well."

"Yeah, well," Jeremy said awkwardly. "Did you tell him?"

Gabrielle shook her head.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, as they reached the top landing.

"Gabrielle and I are going to be pen friends," said Jeremy.

"It will give us a chance to practice our writing," Gabrielle explained. "I will write to Jeremy in English, and 'e will write back to me in French."

Harry looked at Jeremy. "I didn't know you spoke French."

"Er, I signed up for French classes for next term," Jeremy said. "I figured it was time I learned another language. Another human language, I mean."

"Yeah," said Harry, smirking at him. "That's always a good idea."

Jeremy turned and fumbled with the doorknob on the Owlery door. As they stepped inside, Harry noticed that the Owlery was much quieter than the last time he had entered it. Most of the owls were asleep on their perches. Jeremy led them down to Hedwig's nest box.

"Here they are," he whispered. "They're both female."

Two small, fluffy owl chicks sat in the nest. One had dark brown, downy feathers like her father. The other had white, silky feathers like her mother. They stared up at Harry with wide gray eyes, making tiny mouse-like squeaking noises. Hedwig was sitting in the nest box, just behind her children. She looked up at Harry with an expression of rapture. Harry reached in and gently stroked the top of her head.

"Well done, girl," he whispered, smiling. "Well done."

Hornsby was sitting on top of the nest box, with his chest feathers puffed out. Jeremy pointed to his owl.

"He was strutting around like the cock-o'-the-walk when I came up here earlier. Then Hedwig started fussing at him. She told him that she was the one who laid the eggs and sat on 'em for five weeks. So Hornsby kind of knocked it off a bit." He reached up and ruffled his owl's crest feathers. "But as you can see, he's a right proud Papa."

"Well, he should be happy that he's got a big family now, to help him out," said Harry. "After all, if you two are going to be pen friends, Hornsby's going to spend a lot of time flying letters from here to Paris and back."

Hornsby looked back and forth between Jeremy and Gabrielle, then fixed Harry with a pained expression. Harry could tell that the owl was not looking forward to flying across the English Channel time and again, delivering messages to and from his master's new sweetheart.

"What will you name ze two baby owls?" Gabrielle asked.

"I don't know," Jeremy said, with a shrug. "Should we name them?"

"You pick one and name it, and I'll name the other," Harry suggested.

Jeremy looked at the two owl chicks, then looked at Gabrielle and smiled. He reached in and tapped the white-feathered chick. "I'll call this one 'Gaby.' It'll help me to remember."

Gabrielle blushed.

"What will you name yours, Harry?" Jeremy asked.

Harry looked at the other owl chick. It seemed an odd thing to notice, but its dark-brown feathers were almost the color of his Transfiguration teacher's hair. He placed his finger down gently on the owl chick's head.

"McGonagall," he said, solemnly. "So I'll remember."