Harry Potter fanfic--Student Teacher at Hogwarts
by Terri Wells

Chapter Twelve - Pleasant Surprises

July 6, 2001 - Morning to Evening

The daily torture of breakfast at the Dursleys was interrupted that Friday by a knock at the door. Harry knew who it was, of course, having been let in on the plan the previous day by his godfather and Mrs. Figg. So he made no complaint when his uncle Vernon ordered him to see who was at the door.

He opened the door and stifled a laugh. Had he not known that his former DADA instructor Remus Lupin and his godfather Sirius Black were standing in front of him, he never would have guessed. Lupin was almost recognizable, if one could picture the thin werewolf gaining about 40 years and an equal number of pounds. A natural-looking paunch hung over a pair of black polyester pants held up with a brown belt; a polo shirt of a color not seen in nature completed the outfit. Black horn-rimmed glasses in a worse state of decrepitude than Harry's added to the image of a retired "nerd". A faceful of wrinkles, complete with -- good heavens -- jowls, topped with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, completed the picture.

Sirius was another matter. He was posing as Lupin's wife; Harry's excuse to get out of the house was to assist the couple with their anniversary party, after all. As the escaped convict had commented, Mrs. Figg apparently couldn't wait to get her hands on him for this disguise -- and it showed. Sensible old lady shoes covered his feet, while his legs were sheathed in dark support hose. Padding applied in the appropriate places gave Sirius a rather droopy "bosom." The dress he wore -- long-sleeved, long-skirted, with a fairly high neckline held in place with a cameo(!) pin -- featured an all-over pattern of large purple flowers. This was coordinated oh-so-nicely with a pair of lavender gloves and matching hat. Sirius' hair had been left long, but it was also colored with a salt-and-pepper look, and put up in a bun. The make-up...well, Harry had seen his Aunt Petunia wear less when getting ready for one of Uncle Vernon's company holiday parties. When the young wizard finally noticed the pearl necklace and clip-on earrings which completed the ensemble, he had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Okay, laugh, but don't even think of taking a picture," Sirius hissed softly. Rather louder, in a high-pitched old lady voice that certainly carried to the kitchen, he continued, "Are you Harry Potter? Arabella Figg told us you'd be just the boy we're looking for to help out with our anniversary party!"

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon showed up then, and Harry was infinitely grateful he didn't have to do any of the talking. Arrangements were made so that Harry could stay overnight with the "couple" if he wanted to, and Sirius, under the guise of helping him pick out "just the right outfit for the party -- in case we decide to have him serve at it, you know" -- helped Harry pack. This mostly prevented Uncle Vernon from interfering with what Harry took, so Harry did not have to leave his wand behind. Uncle Vernon did not seem particularly impressed by the couple, and would have been very unpleasant to them, except for Sirius' flattery and simpering...and subtle reminders about Mrs. Figg's role as Harry's babysitter for Dudley's birthday. It wasn't much leverage, but little old lady Sirius played it for all it was worth.

Sirius was also not above throwing in a jab or two to put Uncle Vernon in his place. "You sell drills?" he asked in his old lady voice. "Oh, how lovely. My Henry here used to design drills before he retired. Isn't that right, Henry?"

Remus had apparently been prepared for this in advance, and reacted as any engineer would: with modesty verging on arrogance. "Oh yes, I've done a few here and there," he said, and reeled off several improvements made to certain drills that immensely increased their productivity. Uncle Vernon had been trumped, and in his own home.

By the time Harry left the Dursleys and clambered into the stately rented land yacht, he thought he would bust. As soon as the doors closed, he, Sirius, and Remus burst out laughing behind the sanctuary of the car's tinted windows.

"`You sell drills?' Oh, my heart!" gasped Remus, imitating his companion's falsetto voice. "And the look on Vernon's face -- it was just priceless! You were in fine form, Padfoot...or should I say Mrs. Moony?"

"You heard Victoria Figg coaching me -- I can't help it if I'm a fast learner," Sirius shot back, a wicked smile on his face. He picked his friend's wand off the floor on the passenger side of the car, looked at Remus, and raised his eyebrows in a question. At the former DADA teacher's nod, he cast some spells from the wand to help get the make-up and latex prosthetics off his face.

"And you can't help it if she'd just read Auntie Mame before giving you tips on how to act," Remus shot back, starting the car. Falling into the old man voice he'd used inside the house as he pulled out of the driveway, he added, "And if you hadn't been so nice to me while we were in there, Mrs. Moony, I'd've been downright jealous of the way you were making eyes at Vernon Dursley."

"I? Making eyes?" Sirius played along in his old lady voice. "I'd never do that to anyone but you, Henry. Why, you know I've never dated another man since our fifth year at Hogwarts!" Remus made an odd strangled noise just then, as Sirius continued, "And I'm just so glad you've finally made an honest woman of me!"

As Remus stopped the car at a stop sign, he banged his head against the steering wheel -- deliberately. "Am I never to live that one down?" he asked.

"No more than me," Sirius replied, back to his normal voice. "Didn't you swear you'd tell my children about it?"

"Only after you swore you'd tell mine," Remus pointed out, directing the rental car into the normal flow of traffic.

"Hmmm. That might explain why neither of us ever got married," Sirius said, a look of mock thoughtfulness on his face. He ruined the look by pausing in the process of peeling off half his nose and chin, leaving them hanging while he pretended to ponder the question.

"Please," asked Harry, listening with growing curiosity and bewilderment in the back seat, "what is this incident neither of you will ever live down?"

Remus laughed. "Do I get to do the honors, Padfoot? He is your godson, after all."

Sirius threw up his hands. "Be my guest. I've got something else I need to get off my chest anyway," he said, removing the cameo pin and unbuttoning the top of his dress.

As they stopped for a red light, Remus turned and flashed Harry a grin. "You'll like this story. It's about a prank Lily and Arabella did, and it's proof positive that even the Marauders themselves weren't safe from each other when it came to a good joke."

The light changed, and Remus turned back to the front, concentrating on the road ahead. "It was in our fifth year; I remember that because Arabella hadn't started dating Henry Figg yet. Sirius and James still hadn't quite decided which one of them was, um, most interested in your mother."

Sirius snorted as he slid his dress down from his shoulders and twisted his hands around to fumble with the hooks of a modified long-line bra. "Between her temper and mine, we'd've killed each other inside of a week." More softly, he mumbled, "How do women manage these things?!"

"Hindsight, Padfoot," Remus chided. "Anyway, it was decided that there would be a Spring Dance that year; I don't remember exactly why, but I think it was to celebrate Hogwart's thousandth anniversary." He rolled his eyes. "Some things don't change. Do you remember what the buzz was like about the Yule Ball last year, Harry?"

"Do I ever," Harry groaned. The girls had developed an unsettling tendency to giggle, and for weeks before the ball what snatches of conversation Harry managed to overhear concerned dresses, hairstyles, who would ask whom, and other such matters. For his part, if he hadn't been required as a competitor in the Triwizard Tournament to have a date and open the dancing, he would have ducked out of the ball entirely...well, maybe not entirely, he mentally amended hastily, if I'd been able to get Cho Chang as my date. But her date for that night had been Cedric Diggory -- No, he told himself forcefully, I will NOT let myself get depressed over that again. It almost worked, too.

"Well, for the Spring Fling, it was no different. And Sirius, being the paragon of patience that he is --"

"Merlin's beard!" Sirius blurted, dropping his hands from his task in frustration. "Harry, would you do me a favor and unhook my bra?"

"Er, sure," Harry agreed hesitantly, leaning toward the front passenger seat to tend to the unfamiliar garment.

"As I was saying," Remus continued in undisguised amusement, "and as Sirius has just proven, being the paragon of patience that he is, he quickly got rather fed up with this. As I recall, his favorite rant on the topic was something like `Weeks of planning, three hours of getting ready -- three hours! -- and for what, a little dancing? I don't get it!' He was especially adamant about the three hours part. Why should a woman take so long to get ready, when a man needs a half hour at most -- and that includes the shower and shave?"

By this time Harry had managed to unhook all of the hooks in the bra, and Sirius removed it with a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said. Then, turning to his godson, he added, sotto voce, "I just hope this doesn't give you any ideas about removing other bras." At a loud laugh from Remus, Sirius turned and said, "He is my godson, Moony --"

"And if he follows your example rather than his father's --" Remus cut in.

"You were telling the story, remember?" Sirius prompted.

"Ah, yes." Remus chuckled. "Apparently, Sirius had ranted about how long it takes women to prepare for a dance once too often. One day, as he was going to his dorm room to change after an early morning Quidditch practice --"

"It was a Hogsmeade Saturday," Sirius cut in. "Our captain was ruthless, but we weren't about to give up our time in town."

"Just so," Remus agreed. "Anyway, on the way to his dorm room he found himself grabbed and overpowered by your mother and Arabella, and forcibly dragged to the girls' dorm."

"I wasn't exactly fighting that hard," Sirius admitted.

"You weren't?" asked Harry, a bit puzzled.

Sirius gave his godson a wry smile. "If two of the loveliest ladies you knew grabbed you and dragged you to their room -- and you were pretty certain they didn't mean to harm you -- how hard would YOU fight?" he asked. Harry blushed. Sirius winked. "Of course, had I known their plans," the animagus continued, "I might have fought a lot harder."

"Right," said Remus, sounding unconvinced. "Well, to make a long story short, they gave your godfather a makeover...so that he would know exactly why it took women three hours to get ready."

Sirius shook his head. "I still don't know where they found female clothing that would fit me."

Harry's jaw dropped. "They didn't!" he exclaimed.

"They did," Sirius groaned. "From the platinum blonde wig to the black high-heeled shoes. My feet weren't right for days afterward." With a wicked smile, he added, "But it gets better. Are you going to tell the rest, Moony, or should I?"

Remus groaned. "I suppose you might as well; you'll enjoy it more," he sighed.

Sirius continued the story as he finished getting rid of the rest of his old lady accoutrements. "By this time we needed to go to meet the carriages that would take us to Hogsmeade. So James, Remus, and Peter" Sirius practically spat the last name "sneaked over to the girls' doom and knocked on the door for fifth-year girls. It opened, and what should they see but Lily, Arabella, and me. Now, you've seen what a good job Arabella can do; she wasn't quite as good back then as she is now, but my poor nearsighted friend over here --"

"Please don't rub it in," Remus moaned.

Sirius laughed. "Fancying himself the gentleman, he turned to me and asked, `And who is this vision of loveliness we have here?' Well, before I could say anything, Lily said that I was someone she'd met in other trips to Hogsmeade, and we'd become fast friends. I was not taking classes at Hogwarts because my parents believed in traditional home schooling for witches. Then she gave James a wink -- which your former DADA teacher, ever perceptive to dark threats, managed to miss entirely -- and for the rest of the day I was Hildegarde Ryan, Moony's date for the daytrip to Hogsmeade."

"Oh no," said Harry, not knowing whether to be amused or horrified for his godfather's sake.

"What's worse, James and Lily stayed with us practically everywhere -- so I never got a chance to tell him that I was really Sirius," he explained.

"You weren't exactly trying very hard about that, either," Remus observed. "In fact, I thought you were really serious."

"I'd never been treated in such a chivalrous manner before, Moony old friend," said Sirius, then, switching to a young-sounding falsetto, added, "you just swept me off my feet!"

"You never got a chance to tell him?" Harry asked. Sirius must have told Remus at some time who he really was; he didn't imagine his godfather could have kept up the charade so long with his close friend that he wouldn't find out at some point.

"Oh, I did finally," Sirius conceded. "Lily's story was that I lived in Hogsmeade, remember? So Remus was going to leave me in the village; I went with him to where the carriages were. He thought it was to see him off. Gentleman that he was, he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek before boarding the carriage...so I just said, in his ear, in my normal voice, `You don't have to kiss me good-by, I'm going with you back to Hogwarts.'" Sirius smiled at the memory. "Talk about a priceless expression....!"

"I didn't talk to him OR Lily for three days," Remus confessed.

"Your father interceded there," Sirius said to Harry, "but that's another story."

"That's okay, I love hearing stories about my parents," Harry gasped out over his laughter. "But what I really want to hear is, what is this about? Sirius said something about righting a wrong that was older than his false imprisonment..."

"You blabbed, Padfoot? For shame!" Remus shook his head. By this time Harry was beginning to recognize the route they were taking. It looked as if they were going to King's Cross station. Was it possible....? Did he dare hope...?

"I blabbed nothing, Moony," Sirius said. "Not that it would matter if I did; this isn't one of those things --"

"I'm getting SO tired of people keeping things from me!" Harry exclaimed in sudden irritation.

Sirius turned to face his godson, a surprised look on his face. He frowned, and lowered his brows. "Yes, I guess you would," he said with a sigh. "And the truth is, you're not the one we're trying to surprise." He gave Harry a small smile. "I can tell you this much: it's a going-away party for Hagrid. He and Madame Maxime will be doing a little something for Professor Dumbledore over the summer."

"It might take longer than that," Remus cut in.

"Right," said Sirius. "Anyway, the headmaster is going to give Hagrid some, hmmm, going-away presents before he leaves." He grinned. "Just think about that for a while; we've got some time before we get to Hogwarts."

"We're going to Hogwarts?!" Harry exclaimed. There would be no students there at this time of the year, but between the ghosts, the moving pictures, the library, and even the house elves, that would hardly matter. Outside of the Burrow, Hogwarts was the closest thing Harry had ever had to a real home. The young wizard put all thought of why he was going to Hogwarts to the side for the moment. "Can I stay there for the summer?" he asked.

"No." Sirius had, by now, removed all vestiges of his disguise, and turned stern eyes to his godson. At Harry's pleading look, Sirius sighed, and softened his expression. "I understand how you feel about staying with the Dursleys --"

"Do you?" Harry interrupted. "Do you really?" Staying with the Dursleys had been torture before; thanks to their attitudes about magic, it was now the next closest thing to hell. The only thing worse that Harry could imagine was being surrounded by dementors. He remembered, belatedly, that Sirius had spent twelve years experiencing just that.

"Do I really?" Sirius echoed, his face a thundercloud. "Damnit, Harry, if I'd had my way, you'd've grown up in my home, not the Dursleys!" He punched the dashboard hard enough to make Remus and Harry jump at the sound.

"Temper, Padfoot," Remus said softly.

Sirius glared at Remus, but slowly unballed his fist. "I have a right to be angry, don't I?" He turned to face Harry...and started. Instead of leaning in close to listen to the stories, Harry now sat all the way back in his seat. As one of his hands unconsciously reached for his wand, Harry watched his godfather for any sudden moves. For a moment, Harry saw his own fear reflected back at him in the older wizard's face. Sirius' eyes widened. "Is that what I have become?" he said, almost too soft for Harry to hear.

After a moment, the animagus closed his eyes, shook his head, and sighed. Harry relaxed. "Maybe I do need to go to St. Mungo's," he muttered. "If I scared you..." Looking up again at his godson,Sirius continued, "Please understand, Harry -- that wasn't really directed at you. It was more...directed at the whole damned situation. And the fact that it's starting all over again...when it seems like we've hardly recovered from the last time."

Harry nodded. "I understand that part, I think," he said hesitantly. "But, if you could tell me why I can't stay at Hogwarts -- and I mean something more than `it's just not safe enough' -- "

"It's not that." Sirius shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Truth is, it's one of the safest places around. But the safest place for you," Sirius emphasized, "is with the Dursleys."

"Why?" Harry asked again.

"Because they're blood relations." Sirius winced, as if it pained him to admit it. "There are...certain types of spells that can be used for protection, but they require blood relationships to work." He shifted uncomfortably. "When they do work, though, they're very powerful. As you've seen."

As I've seen? Harry wondered. Does he mean how well this has hidden me from Voldemort...or something else? He thought of the last magic he had seen involving blood...and shuddered.

"Are you saying there's Dark Arts magic protecting me from Voldemort?" he demanded.

"We've arrived," Remus cut in, ending the discussion for the moment. "Padfoot, you'd better shift -- ah, and don't forget to put on your -- "

Sirius growled, but drew a black leather collar from his pants pocket. Harry looked at it in surprise. "My latest fashion statement," the animagus grumped. The silver-colored tags hanging from the leather strip jingled together as Sirius fastened the collar around his neck. Once Remus finished parking the car, Sirius began to shift to Snuffles -- then abruptly stopped. He glared through the windshield at someone Harry had never seen before. "Him!" he barked.

Remus sighed, and turned to face his friend. "Sirius," he began patiently, "you knew there'd be someone here to pick up the car and take it back to the rental place." He rubbed his temple, and continued. "Given who could afford to take time off of work, and knew how to drive --"

"He called the pound on me," Sirius said flatly.

Harry looked at the man who had apparently so upset his godfather. He stood about six feet tall, and was nearly that much around. His bald head was framed by a fringe of blond hair, which matched his moustache and goatee. Despite his baldness, he appeared to be no older than Remus or Sirius. His Muggle clothing, though unexceptional, fit him well; unlike some wizards, he actually looked comfortable in the simple shirt and slacks. His bright blue eyes, brows raised, peered into the car, conveying an air of patient impatience. Something about him -- his size? his bearing? his hair? -- reminded Harry of both his cousin Dudley and Draco Malfoy.

"He did what?" asked Remus. The werewolf sounded more amused than concerned. "Are you sure it was him who called the pound?"

"Had to be," Sirius grunted. "I was just outside his shop when I was caught."

Remus snorted. "No doubt he thought you had it coming," he replied. "Now shift, will you? We don't have much time." He rubbed his head again. "And this isn't helping my headache."

Sirius stopped his grumbling just long enough to shoot a concerned look at his friend, then complied. Remus reached forward to pull something out of the glove box and handed it to Harry. It was simple silver-colored disk, about the size of Harry's palm, etched with arcane symbols.

"What is this?" Harry asked as Remus exited the car. Snuffles bounded out after him.

"I'll tell you as soon as we get to the platform," Remus said, smiling weakly. "Right now, just put it deep in your pants pocket, and don't lose it." Harry did so, and exited the car.

"Remus Lupin!" The blond man grinned, and stepped forward to give the former DADA teacher a vigorous handshake. His booming voice put Harry in mind of Hagrid -- but where the half-giant spoke in a bass voice, this man was clearly a tenor. "Smashing! I hardly credited it..." He sighed as he looked Remus over, and something in his eyes softened. "It has been too long, old friend. I wish it weren't just the crises that bring us together."

"It doesn't have to be," said Remus, just a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You could always hire me to work in your shop."

The blond man rewarded him with a look of mock horror. "Hire you? Merlin's beard! I can't afford the sick pay. And just think what my relatives would say; I'm already a pariah for actually working for a living."

Both men laughed; apparently this was a running joke between them. Snuffles chose that moment to announce his presence with a loud, rumbling growl. "Ah, Snuffles!" The blond man squatted down and briskly rubbed the animagus' head, and got another growl and a snap for his efforts. "Didn't enjoy the pound, did you? But look, you got a fine piece of jewelry from the visit -- which is more than I got when you came to my door. Nearly sent me to the hospital, you did -- if not the morgue." That last was said with much less humor. Looking at the man, Harry could easily believe that Sirius' arrival might have given him a heart attack. Sirius' size and color exactly matched that of a Grim -- a creature said to show itself to wizards and witches about to die.

Snuffles actually looked slightly sheepish after that. "I would have gotten you out myself in another half hour if I'd had to," the man continued in a sincere voice. "Even if it meant closing my shop for the rest of the day." He peered closely at Harry's godfather. "Friends?" he asked. Snuffles hesitated, but nodded.

"That's a relief," Remus said under his breath. Turning to Harry, the werewolf put an arm on the boy's shoulder and began, "Mundungus, this is -- "

"The boy who needs no introduction." The man...Mundungus?...took Harry's hand and gave him a firm handshake. If his eyes went to Harry's forehead, they flicked there and back so fast that the young wizard missed the motion. "I'm pleased to meet you, Harry Potter."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled. "And you are...?"

"Mundungus Fletcher, proprieter of Fletcher's Fabulous Finds on Diagon Alley," Mundungus said.

Remus clapped him on the back. "And one of the Sorting Hat's biggest mistakes, as I'm sure another old friend of ours would say," he put in softly, nodding at Snuffles. The animagus wagged his tail in agreement. The Sorting Hat -- make mistakes? thought Harry in surprise.

"Oh no, the Sorting Hat never makes mistakes," Mundungus corrected, answering Harry's thought. "My poor mother, rest her soul, would have died if she'd heard I'd been sorted with your kind."

"You're not from Gryffindor?" Harry asked. He found himself wondering again, as he had wondered in his second year, if he had somehow confused the Sorting Hat. It had put him in Gryffindor, because he had not wanted to go in Slytherin. Headmaster Dumbledore assured him that it was his own choice that made the difference, but...

"Oh goodness, no," Mundungus replied. "I'm from Slytherin."

Harry's eyes widened. He had never met a good Slytherin before; that house was legendary for turning out evil mages. Voldemort himself had been Sorted into Slytherin. But Remus seemed to trust him, even greeted him like an old friend. What was going on?

The blond wizard's smile widened. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Harry," he said, as if reading the boy's thoughts. "I'd've thought your godfather would remind you of that."

Harry stole a quick glance at Snuffles as he remembered how he had first met Sirius Black. At that time, Harry -- like most of the rest of the wizarding world, even now -- was convinced that Sirius was Voldemort's right hand man, and had come to Hogwarts to kill Harry. The true story, of course, was quite different, and much more complicated.

Harry looked up as Remus handed the keys to the rental car over to Mundungus, who slipped them into his pocket. From another pocket, the former Slytherin withdrew a silver hip flask, much more modern-looking than the one Harry had seen "Mad-Eye Moody" use. Mundungus held out his free hand to Remus, thumb and index finger a short distance apart. "Hair of the dog, old friend," he said.

Remus winced. Very gently, he plucked one of his still-colored hairs from his head and handed it over. Mundungus took it, and nodded. "I'll be right back," he said, and slipped away.

"What's he got in the flask...Polyjuice Potion?" whispered Harry to Remus.

"It would look a little odd if the person who had rented the car wasn't the one returning it, now wouldn't it?" Remus returned. The werewolf winced again, hand on his forehead. "He should be glad he'll only have my headache for an hour," he added under his breath.

Just a few moments later Mundungus returned. At least, Harry assumed it was Mundungus; he now looked just like Remus, or just like Remus would have looked if he wasn't still made up to look 40 years older. "I wish you'd warned me about the headache," he grumped.

"Be glad you don't have to deal with the worst of it," Remus shot back.

Mundungus nodded sympathetically, winced, and gripped his forehead. "Your monthly three-day migraine," he groaned. Looking Remus over, he managed a weak, mischievous grin, and whispered, "We could pass for father and son right now, you know. Must've inherited the headaches from you, dad."

"Get going," Remus growled, but his eyes twinkled. "The paperwork's in the glove compartment."

"Just a second." Mundungus turned back to Harry. "I hear Lucius Malfoy's brat is in my old House. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," Harry confirmed.

"He ever give you any trouble?" When Harry hesitated, Mundungus grunted, and nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if he ever starts hassling you again, tell him his first cousin once removed sends his regards."

Harry's eyes widened. "Will that make him stop?"

"Absolutely not," Mundungus answered amiably. "In fact, he'll probably go into some sort of tirade about how I should be lots more removed than that. But my month's not complete unless I tick off at least one of my relatives. So be sure to send me an owl after you do it." With a grin and a wave, Mundungus opened the door of the rental car, climbed in, and drove off.

Harry watched him drive off for a moment, thinking over what the other wizard had said: never judge a book by its cover. Mundungus had been in Slytherin. Even stranger, he was apparently related to the Malfoys! Was he really on their side?

"Come on, Harry," said Remus, checking his wristwatch. "We've only got a few more minutes to get to the platform." He nudged Harry and Snuffles into motion, and the three of them began walking into the noisy, crowded train station.

"Which one?" Harry asked.

"Nine and three-quarters, of course," Remus replied.

Harry shook his head. "I thought that was only open when school starts," he confessed.

Remus grinned, then winced and grasped his head again. "Normally, yes," he admitted. "That's when it's scheduled to be open. But we had a little help this time. We've reserved a charter."

When they arrived at the stone pillar through which one reached platform nine and three quarters, Snuffles nudged Remus and Harry out of the way and began sniffing around it himself. After a moment, he lifted his head and, apparently satisfied, walked through the pillar.

"Guess he wanted to make sure it was okay," Remus observed. "You next, Harry."

Harry checked to make sure no Muggles were looking their way. Then, taking a deep breath, he ran forward, following Snuffles through the pillar. He felt a familiar rush as he came out on the other side. Snuffles was there to greet him beside the tracks. Harry had half-expected to see the Hogwarts Express. Instead, there was only a large cart on the tracks, about twice the size of the one Harry was used to traveling in to get to his vault at Gringotts. And perched on the edge of the cart was...

"Mister Harry Potter, sir!" cried the house elf.

"Dobby!" Harry shouted back, grinning. So that was how they'd managed it. The young wizard remembered how, at the start of his second year at Hogwarts, Dobby the house elf had tried to keep him from returning by preventing the pillar from admitting him to the platform. It made sense that Dobby could open the portal, too.

Without further ado, Dobby leapt lightly from the cart and propelled himself into the boy wizard. He landed against Harry's chest and gave him a huge hug...knocking him back into Remus, who had just come through the portal behind Harry. All three toppled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs, Dobby topmost. Amid plaintive apologies, the house elf jumped off the two wizards and began simultaneously dusting them off and helping them up, to little effect.

"We can manage just fine, thanks, Dobby," said Remus, getting up slowly.

Harry stole a furtive glance at the werewolf as he rose from the ground. He looked paler than he was earlier, even under the make-up. The three-day migraine...Harry remembered that there had been a full moon the previous night, and that there would be one tonight, too. Remus took a foul-smelling potion for a week every month that allowed him to keep his mind during and after the change, which made him relatively safe during the full moon. Harry had seen him taking the potion when he was the DADA teacher at Hogwarts, during Harry's third year. But he did not remember seeing the werewolf get headaches.

Before Harry could ponder the significance of this for too long, Dobby began ushering the three of them into the cart. Snuffles jumped in first, followed by Harry, with Remus again taking up the rear. Harry found that the cart was equipped with a comfortable bench seat in the back. On the floor he spotted a wooden box, about two feet long on every side, decorated with ornate carvings of pies, cooked birds, roasts, corn on the cob, and other edibles. The bas relief carving looked so real that Harry felt his mouth begin to water. Next to the box lay several wizard's robes.

"Master Dumbledore said to give you these robes," Dobby explained, handing a plain black robe to Harry. The house elf handed a brown robe to Remus, who took the garment and promptly began getting rid of his disguise. Finally, Dobby turned to Snuffles and said "Master Dumbledore also told Dobby to remind Black Dog that house elves keep their master's secrets -- and if Black Dog is also working for Master Dumbledore, then Black Dog's secrets are Master Dumbledore's secrets."

Snuffles looked surprised, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before. It was all the encouragement he needed, though; he quickly shifted back to his normal shape, and accepted the midnight blue robe that Dobby offered him.

Once all three of his passengers were settled, Dobby clapped his hands, and the cart began moving at great speed. Harry could hear the wind rushing past on the sides, but could not feel it blowing him; indeed, not a hair on his head was upset. This alone was remarkable, considering that all it took to mess up his hair was having someone look at it cross-eyed. Sirius nudged his shoulder, and pointed to the side of the cart. "Look at the top edge of the cart, there," he said.

Harry looked. "Um, I don't see anything," he said after a moment.

Sirius slapped his forehead. "Oh right, you probably haven't learned that yet." He stroked his chin for a moment. "You need to look without looking."

"What?" Harry knew about the oddities of magic from his four years of experience at Hogwarts, but he didn't understand this paradox. Look without looking?

"Try squinting, or looking out of the corner of your eyes -- or both, actually," Sirius explained.

It took several attempts, but Harry finally saw something. It surrounded the cart on all sides, except the top, to a height of three feet. It shimmered transparently, somewhat like heat mirages on a road. Harry gave Sirius a questioning look. In response, the escaped convict turned to face Dobby, who stood at the front as if driving the vehicle. "You have an elf screen up?" he asked.

"Yes, Dobby put a screen up." He looked back at Sirius, and smiled. "Master Dumbledore told Dobby to protect Harry Potter and his friends, and Dobby gave his word. Dobby will not let anyone harm you, sirs!"

Harry flushed a bit at Dobby's devotion to his duty, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt something in his pocket dig into him, and took out the silver disk which had been handed to him by Remus. He gave the werewolf a gentle nudge and held up the item. "You said you'd explain this," he said slowly. It was clear from the way he rubbed his temple that Remus was still in pain, and Harry hoped the question would serve as a distraction -- besides, he was curious.

"Eh? Oh." Remus smiled weakly. He reached out his hand and took the silvery circle, holding it by the edges with his thumb and forefinger. As he angled it this way and that, sunlight reflected off its surface. The traceries and arcane symbols on the item still showed clearly, as if they possessed their own light...but on a different wavelength somehow. Harry knew that was ridiculous; he could just hear Hermione saying that sun beams contained all visible light, so if the disk reflected it all back, then the symbols on the disk couldn't shine on a different wavelength and still be visible. But just as he thought that, he felt a sudden urge to look away from the flat round reflector -- an urge that had nothing to do with whether the reflection was hurting his eyes.

Harry blinked, and shook himself. "What IS that?" he asked.

Sirius grinned, and Remus's smile widened. "Has Professor Binns reached Aethelbert the Overlooked?" the former DADA professor asked. Harry nodded. "Well, then," Remus continued, handing the item back to Harry, "you should be able to figure out what this is...if you were able to stay awake for the lesson."

Sirius snorted. "You didn't," he pointed out.

"It was a full moon the night before," Remus insisted. "I did get that question right on the exam, unlike some people I could name."

"I still beat your score by five points," Sirius growled, but his eyes twinkled.

The banter between the two old friends gave Harry some time to wrack his brain. He did remember Aethelbert the Overlooked; it has been one of the few amusing moments in Professor Binn's History of Magic class. Aethelbert the Overlooked came from a family of soldiers; despite having the gift of magic, his parents expected him to follow in the tradition. While he trained as a soldier, he stole whatever time he could to become a self-taught wizard. Because of the general lack of time for his magical studies, he chose to limit his studies to specific subjects. Quite naturally, given his main course of training, he studied anything he thought might help keep him alive on the battlefield.

"Wasn't Aethelbert the one who came up with the first invisibility cloak?" Harry asked.

"Not quite," Remus corrected. "But he did lay the groundwork for it."

"Now I remember!" Harry waved the silver circle around, emphasizing his words. "He came up with something that let him be seen by his commander and his squad, but not by the enemy." The boy wizard wrinkled his brow, then shook his head. "No, that's not quite right either. He'd be seen, he just wouldn't be noticed."

"Hence `the Overlooked,'" Remus finished. He lightly tapped the disk. "When he got married and had children, he improved his creation, expanding its range so that it covered the whole family when they were traveling together." The werewolf paused long enough to catch Harry's eyes. "In fact, the item protected about the same area as is covered by a large modern car."

Harry's jaw dropped. He and Ron had kept each other awake during that particular lesson by coming up with ideas about what they'd do if they had such an item. "Then this is -- "

"It might be," Sirius cut in. "Albus was being...a little cagey when he handed it over. Truth to tell, I wouldn't put it past him to duplicate the research and make one of his own. Professor Binns claimed that Aethelbert's creation was lost."

"Wow." Harry looked down at the silver disk. If this was the original, he didn't think he'd ever held anything so old before. Even if it wasn't...an invisibility cloak was rare enough. An item that let friends see you just fine, but led enemies to think you weren't even there...! Harry knew enough about magic theory to know that causing a reaction based on the intentions of the person being affected was much harder than, say, unlocking a padlock or lighting a fire. "Who do you think made this?" he asked Remus.

"Someone very powerful. Or powerfully focused," the werewolf responded.

Sirius nodded. "The only thing Albus would tell us, other than how it's used and what it does, is what it's called." He quirked an eyebrow, and pointed at the item. "He said it was a `Don't View Disk.'" He shrugged. "Well, the name's appropriate. Best put that back in your pocket for now; you wouldn't want to lose it." Harry did so.

Harry, Remus, and Sirius spent the time leading up to lunch in more relaxed conversation. Harry convinced the two older wizards to tell him stories about his father and mother, and their days as Marauders. When lunchtime came, Dobby opened the ornately carved wooden box and pulled out food for all of them. That has got to be bigger on the inside than it looks, thought Harry; there's no way all that food could have fit inside that box. Dobby kept going back to the box to retrieve more food -- and Harry noticed that none of it looked as if it had been crowded into the box.

The young wizard gazed out at the farmland he was passing while he pondered what magic he knew that could make this box work. He saw, at a distance, a girl riding a horse, her long black hair flying out behind her like a banner. With a pang, Harry was reminded of Cho Chang. How he wished he could talk to somebody about her!

"You've gone quiet, Harry. Anything on your mind?" Sirius asked.

"I -- " Harry hesitated, looking from Sirius to Remus. The werewolf had moved to sit near the magic food box, and was examining the carvings on its side while munching on a grilled cheese sandwich. Dobby had settled into one of the front corners of the wagon, and split his attention between Remus and the road ahead. Harry guessed he might not get any closer to privacy with his godfather for quite some time. Especially since he's always either in hiding or doing something for Professor Dumbledore, thought Harry resentfully. He sighed. "I was just...thinking about one of the students," he explained.

Sirius knit his brows together. "Cedric Diggory again?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh no -- well, not directly," Harry admitted. "I was thinking about...Cho Chang." Taking a deep breath, he plunged on. "She's the Seeker on the Ravenclaw team; she's really good. And...well, Cedric took her to the Yule Ball." Damn him for asking her before I did! Harry thought, then stifled the thought guiltily. "Er, I think they sort of...started dating after that. She was really upset after he died." Harry remembered Professor Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast, and Cho's tears flowing freely down her beautiful face. A face like that should never have to cry, he thought, then felt his cheeks grow warm.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You're worried about how she's doing?" he asked.

"I -- " Harry stole another look at Remus and Dobby; they both still seemed preoccupied. Even so, he felt a little odd talking about his feelings for Cho Chang, even with his godfather. "I thought about sending her an owl, but I wasn't sure how she'd react -- I mean, what with how Cedric -- " he swallowed hard.

"You're afraid she'll blame you for Cedric's death," Sirius said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," said Harry. His cheeks felt very warm indeed.

Sirius looked at Harry for a few moments, as if trying to read something written on his face. Then he sighed, and smiled sadly at his godson. "There's more to this, isn't there?" At Harry's startled look, he chuckled, and shook his head. "I know what lovesickness looks like. Merlin knows I saw that look often enough," he explained, jerking his thumb at Remus.

Harry stared at his former DADA teacher, who still seemed engrossed in examining the magic food box. He tried to imagine him as a young student at Hogwarts...and feeling what Harry himself was feeling. He shook his head. Beside him, Sirius chuckled again, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "We didn't call him `Moony' just because he's a werewolf," Sirius said.

Harry remembered the story his godfather had told about his "date" with Remus, and grinned. But the smile only lasted a moment. He turned to Sirius, and asked, "What should I do?"

"That, Harry, is a very tough question." Sirius stroked his chin thoughfully. "Everyone handles grief differently; she may want some space now, or she may want a shoulder to cry on." He gave Harry another face-reading look. "You might be able to be that shoulder, if that's what you want."

"I -- I'd like to be, I think," Harry said hesitantly. He lowered his eyes. "If I can," he added softly.

Sirius nodded. "It's not something that'd be easy, Harry. She'll talk about how wonderful Cedric was -- and if you can't listen to that without getting jealous, you'll just make her angry." Harry flinched, remembering how his stomach had turned every time he saw Cho and Cedric walking hand in hand in the hallways. "But there's another reason you might not want to become her confidant."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

Sirius glanced over at Remus. The werewolf gave his old friend a quick glance, then went back to looking at the carvings on the box. The animagus turned back to Harry. "You're too young to have run into this, yet, I think," he said. "And it's...kind of hard to explain." He brushed his hair back over his head with one hand, then leaned forward. "When you become a lady's confidant, you...well, you sort of turn into her brother."

When Sirius didn't continue, Harry gave him a puzzled look. "What's wrong with that?" he asked.

Sirius gave his godson an amused look. "Harry, there are certain things you don't do with your brother."

Harry's jaw dropped. Suddenly, he understood.

"Ah, Lumos," said Sirius. He grinned, and tapped Harry lightly on his head. He glanced furtively at Remus, and whispered, "There are some men who seem to always end up as confidants, but never anything more. Understand," he continued in a normal voice, holding up one hand, "I'm not saying it's impossible to be a `brother' and...something more, but it isn't easy." He raised one finger, suddenly assuming the air of a professor. Well, something of the air of a professor; Harry sensed that, even now, there was too much Marauder in him to play it completely straight. "Given what I've just told you," he said, "take it one step further. What does this imply, oh student of love?"

"Um." Harry frowned, furrowing his brows in thought. "That I shouldn't try to become her confidant as a way to become...something more?"

"Precisely!" Sirius stabbed his finger at Harry. "You learn fast. Now, this doesn't mean you shouldn't try to offer your condolences, or a sympathetic ear; it just means you shouldn't do it with malice aforethought. Come to think of it," he added, "it might well be a couple of months before she's ready to even think about having a boyfriend again."

Harry sat back, leaning against the rear of the cart. He wanted to get closer to Cho Chang...but was this really the way he wanted to do it? "I'd better think about this," he said, half to himself.

Presently Remus concluded his examination of the box and flopped down on the bench. "Well, I'm stumped," he said with a sigh.

"Oh?" asked Sirius.

"Yes." He made a sour face, and pointed at the box. "There are a number of ways that box could be holding as much food as it seems to be, but there's nothing about the box itself that gives any clue to which one it's using. And Dobby won't tell me; he says it's a `house elf secret.'" Remus rolled his eyes, looking thoroughly unhappy with the answer he'd received. Sirius frowned, and knit his brows together in thought.

"This is a problem?" Harry asked.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other for a moment, then back to Harry. "Yes and no," Remus said at last. "If it gets into the wrong hands, it could be a security risk. But Dobby says nobody handles it except other house elves --"

"And house elves are fiercely loyal," Sirius finished. "It's part of their nature." He turned back to Remus. "Are you sure you didn't find any evidence of the Space Folding Charm?"

"I thought I did, but when I checked the bottom..." The conversation quickly became too technical for Harry to follow. Shrugging, he moved to the front of the cart, where Dobby watched the tracks ahead.

"Does Harry Potter want more food?" Dobby chirped.

"No, thanks Dobby, I'm fine," Harry replied, patting his stomach. It was nice to be full again. With Dudley still on a diet, and Petunia still insisting that the whole family suffer through the diet with him, even Mrs. Figg's dinner had only gone partway towards making up the difference. "Er, how is Winky?"

Dobby gave him a startled look. "Harry Potter shows his wondrous generosity of spirit by asking about his inferiors!" he exclaimed, and hugged the boy. Harry blushed, and tried to push him away. He'd mainly asked the question to make conversation, in the hope that it would keep Dobby from fawning all over him. Sadly, it had the reverse effect. When Dobby finally pulled away from Harry, he had tears in his eyes. "Dobby only wishes he could give Harry Potter better news about Winky," he sniffled.

"What? Is something wrong with Winky? Did she...hurt herself?" Harry asked, now genuinely concerned. Winky had been the house elf for the Crouch family, until she came under suspicion of using a wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky. Wand use by a house elf was strictly against the law, so her master, Bartemious Crouch, head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, had given her clothes -- which was how one dismissed a house elf. She later turned up working for Hogwarts, but was not taking well to being free from her old master.

Dobby heaved a deep sigh. "Mistress Pomfrey stopped Winky's drinking butterbeer, but Winky still sits alone all the time. Dobby tries to explain to Winky how she is better off without her old masters, but Winky just cries and stops her ears." He sniffled again, and wiped at his tears with a bright red handkerchief. "Dobby is very worried about Winky, Harry Potter."

"Can't she -- um, get new masters, if that's what she wants? I mean, she's working at Hogwarts, like you are; isn't there some way --" Harry's words were cut off by Dobby's astonished expression.

"Bond Winky to new masters? How could the wise and generous Harry Potter suggest such a horrible thing?" Dobby covered his mouth, looking shocked at his own outburst. He bounced over to the magic box and began beating his head against it.

"No Dobby, stop it!" Harry grabbed an arm and pulled him away from the box. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't want you to punish yourself over something like that!"

"What's got him so upset?" asked Remus.

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm again. "I just asked him if Winky could get new masters, and he said it was a horrible thing, and he just --" he stopped at the werewolf's stern expression. "I was just trying to think of her comfort!" Harry protested. "Hagrid said it was in a house elf's nature, and if Winky's not happy with the arrangement she has with Dumbledore now..." Harry trailed off.

Remus shook himself. "You'd think I'd remember how much you don't know about the wizarding world," he said, half to himself. He sighed, as Dobby looked at Harry in surprise.

"Harry Potter did not understand what he said?" he asked slowly. At Harry's nod, Dobby prostrated himself before the boy. "Sorry, sorry, Dobby is so sorry for what he said! Dobby should have known Harry Potter would not suggest something he thought would hurt someone, even a house elf!" Dobby hugged Harry's legs. "Please forgive Dobby for his mistake!"

"You're forgiven, you're forgiven!" Harry insisted, carefully pulling his legs out of the house elf's grasp. Looking back up at Remus, he sighed and said, "Will you explain it to me now, or do I have to wait until Hagrid covers it?"

Remus gave Harry a strange look, but nodded. They settled back onto the bench, while Dobby sat on the magic box, all attention now focused on his passengers. Fortunately, the cart seemed not to need an actual driver. The werewolf took a deep breath. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask, really; all I know about house elves I learned from books -- and the occassional run to the kitchens to nick food, of course. My family was too poor to have house elves." He glanced meaningfully at Sirius.

"Our house elves never went through Bonding," said Sirius, drawing himself erect with more than a trace of pride.

"Will one of you explain it, at least?" Harry asked in exasperation.

"It's bad magic," Dobby cut in. All eyes turned to the house elf, who looked ashamed for having spoken out of turn. Nevertheless, he persisted. "Very bad, very old magic. Dobby's old masters tried to Bond him, but it didn't work. Dobby is glad it didn't work," he continued, straightening. "Dobby saw Twitchy -- she's Bonded. Twitchy has no thought."

Harry turned to Remus for an explanation. "Bonding IS a very old magic," he agreed. "It -- well, it nearly makes a house elf an extension of its master. It...thinks like its master. It lives only for its master's welfare, and to do its master's bidding. If it's in a position where it can't help its master..." Remus gave Dobby an uncomfortable look. "...it may just...wither away."

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean...Winky might kill herself?"

"Dobby hopes not, young sir!" Dobby exclaimed. "Dobby and Mistress Pomfrey are doing everything to help her. Even Master Flitwick promised Master Dumbledore he would try to help."

"He'll have a hard time finding information," Remus observed. "Bonding is practically considered a Dark Art."

"As well it should be!" Sirius insisted. "My family's house elves chose to serve us, many generations ago. Every new house elf born into the family since then makes its own decision to serve us or find another family, when it's old enough. They've all stayed." Sirius managed a wan smile. "I do miss them sometimes."

Shortly thereafter they arrived at Hogsmeade station. Hagrid was waiting for them, shifting his weight impatiently from foot to foot. "There ye are!" he boomed. "I've got a carriage for ye. Come on, come on, don't want ter keep anyone waitin'."

Hagrid hustled Harry, Remus, and Sirius into one of the horseless carriages Hogwarts' second year and above students rode to the school from Hogsmeade every year. Hagrid took up one side of the carriage himself, while the other three crammed into the seat facing him. The carriage began moving. Normally, the ride was smooth, but Hagrid must have been very nervous about something. He fidgeted so badly that Harry feared that, magic or not, the half-giant would shake the carriage apart.

"Hagrid, what's wrong?" Harry finally asked.

"Eh? Er, nothin's wrong Harry. Why do yer think somethin's wrong?" Hagrid replied.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. "You were never a good liar, Hagrid," Remus said at last.

Hagrid looked offended. "Not a good liar?! I kept yer secret from th' students two years ago, din't I?" The werewolf and the half-giant locked eyes, which temporarily settled Hagrid's fidgets while the battle of wills went on. After several long moments, both men backed down at the same time. "I can't find my brelly," Hagrid finally confessed.

"Your what?" asked Sirius. Remus poked him, and winked. Sirius widened his eyes, then slapped his forehead. "Oh, your pink umbrella. I remember now." He nudged Harry, and winked. "I'm sure it'll turn up."

"I hope so," Hagrid sighed. "I can' leave without it. It --" he cut himself short, as if on the verge of confessing a great secret.

It's no secret, thought Harry, amused. Hagrid had gone to Hogwarts, but was expelled during his third year -- framed for murder by the student who later became Voldemort. As part of his expulsion, Hagrid's wand had been broken. But it was common knowledge that Hagrid had kept the pieces...and fairly easy to guess that they'd somehow been hidden in the little pink umbrella he often carried. But why would it suddenly disappear? Remus and Sirius seemed to know, but they weren't saying. They certainly seemed confident that it would turn up later. Harry would have liked to ask them about it, but for some reason they seemed to want to keep it a secret from Hagrid. Guess I'll find out when he does, thought Harry, meanwhile trying to guess what had happened.

It was a quick trip to the front gate of Hogwarts. Soon, Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Hagrid stood at the doors to the Great Hall. A festive banner saying "BON VOYAGE HAGRID & MAXIME" hung high in the air, with no visible means of support. Floating candles also hung in mid-air, ready to light the hall when the ceiling grew dark. One long table at the end of the hall held a cold buffet, while three circular tables surrounded by four chairs each made for a cozy scene. Harry noticed that several people were already in the room, but his greetings were cut short by running footsteps and a familiar fist punching him in the arm.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, pulling Harry into the room and over to one of the tables. "Blimey, the headmaster said you'd be here, but Mum wasn't sure --" he suddenly cut himself short. Harry smiled tolerantly; he didn't need his best friend to finish the sentence. She wasn't sure there was a safe way to get me here, Harry thought. His smile widened as he caught sight of Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster nodded a quick greeting to Harry before turning to Hagrid, who had rushed up to the professor and began talking to him in an urgent, animated whisper. Never underestimate the headmaster, Harry thought.

Ron pulled Harry's thoughts back to the present. "So what was that business about giving my brothers that thousand galleons or else you'd hex them?" he demanded.

Harry looked shocked, then embarrassed. "You weren't supposed to find out about that," he sighed. Ron gave Harry a stern look...but Harry could see the corners of his best friend's mouth fighting to stay down. Managing a mock sheepish look, Harry continued, "After what happened, I didn't want to keep the money, and I knew they were the only Weasleys venal enough to take it from me -- ow!" Harry ducked as Ron aimed another attack in his direction, but by this time the redheaded wizard could no longer hold back a chuckle.

"They are at that," he admitted. The two settled down at a table where Ron already had a plate piled high with food that had been partially attacked. Another redhead sat at the table, whom Harry hadn't met before. Her dark blue eyes twinkled with amusement behind her gold-rimmed glasses. Ron started to dive back into his food, then stopped, slapping his forehead. "Oh! Harry, this is my cousin Terri -- you know, the one I sent you an owl about?"

This will be my Potions teacher next term? thought Harry. She's already an improvement over Snape. Harry grinned, and extended his hand. "I'm Harry Potter," he said. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Terri smiled, and looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm pleased to meet you, too," she said. After he sat down, she added, "Oh, Fred and George send their regards."

Ron looked up from his food and rolled his eyes. "Ever since you gave them that money, they've been busier than house elves. They bought some business books from Flourish and Blotts" his tone made it clear how surprised he was "and they're working up some kind of `presentation' for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Ron shook his head. "Honestly, Harry, I don't know if it was a good thing to encourage them like that."

"Now you sound like Hermione," Harry teased. Ron gave him a shocked look, apparently horrified at the idea. "Er -- how's your mum feel about this?" Harry asked. He had only been half-joking when he said that Ron's twin brothers were the only members of the family venal enough to accept his money. He had inherited a small fortune from his parents, and would have gladly shared it with the Weasleys, but he'd known they would refuse. Indeed, part of the reason Harry had told Fred and George not to tell anyone about his gift was because he feared Mrs. Weasley's disapproval...and she'd been the closest thing he could remember to a mother.

"Shocked -- but I'm adjusting," came a voice from behind Harry. The boy wizard spun in his chair as Ron's mother came over and took the fourth chair at the table.

"Er..." Harry was suddenly at a loss. He swallowed. She's not yelling at me, he thought. I hope that means she's not mad at me.

Mrs. Weasley waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not mad at you," she said, and Harry started breathing again. "It was very generous of you, even though I still don't think you should have done it," she insisted, and rolled her eyes. "Those boys need to learn that they have to earn their way...but..." She frowned, and her expression softened. Finally, she sighed. "Well, it does seem to have made them serious about something, anyway," she said resignedly.

"Someone mention my name?" said Harry's godfather, wandering over with a plate of food. He nodded greetings to Ron and his mother, then turned to Terri and smiled eagerly. "I was hoping you'd make it tonight!" He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Harry watched the two in puzzlement. They KNOW each other? he wondered.

"Wouldn't miss it," Terri replied, and returned the smile.

"Where's your cohort in crime?" Sirius asked, looking around.

Harry took a quick count of the people in the Great Hall himself. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Terri, and Sirius were all at this table, of course. Mr. Weasley and Remus Lupin stood talking near the buffet. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall stood off to the side, apparently -- arguing? -- with Hagrid. Harry could hardly believe it; he hadn't seen Hagrid argue with the headmaster in more than two years, and that was only a misunderstanding, quickly cleared up.

"You mean Deidre? She's back at the Burrow, teaching Ginny how to embroider," Terri replied to Sirius' question. "I think she wants to do something special with her dress robes, since they're going to be hand-me-downs anyway."

Harry barely heard her comment; he was listening to Hagrid, whose "whisper" was now loud enough to reach across the hall.

"But, Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said, waving his hands for emphasis, "I've got ter get changed b'fore Olympe -- eh, Madame Maxime -- gets here anyway. I need ter keep lookin' until then!"

"Now, Hagrid, I'm sure it will turn up before you leave tomorrow," said Dumbledore gently, gesturing for the half-giant to calm down. "And if you've packed everything else --"

"You have packed everything else, of course?" Professor McGonagall put in. Hagrid turned his head to her and nodded hard enough to make his hair bounce.

"But that's why it's so important that I --" Hagrid started.

"Then you have plenty of time to worry about your umbrella later, Hagrid," Dumbledore cut in. His tone was still gentle, but Harry could hear a hint of firmness in the headmaster's voice that wasn't there earlier.

Hagrid started to open his mouth again to protest, but stopped, then sighed. "I jus' wan' t'be as pr'pared as I can fer this," he said, hanging his head. "I know 'ow importan' it is --"

"And I know you know," Dumbledore said. He turned his eyes to the buffet, as if seeing it for the first time. "Why don't you have something from the buffet? For a simple spread, the house elves have really outdone themselves."

Hagrid followed Dumbledore's gaze, and looked longingly at the buffet. I bet he hasn't had anything to eat since he noticed his umbrella was missing, thought Harry. Wonder how long ago that was?

"I still have ter change," Hagrid insisted.

"Not until after Madame Maxime shows up," argued McGonagall. "Merlin's beard, Hagrid, you're the only one who can handle those horses; you wouldn't want to do that in your best suit!"

Hagrid grinned for the first time since he'd picked Harry up from the station. "Aw, they're no problem," he insisted, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. He looked back to the buffet, and then down at his clothes, which were his usual sturdy brown pants and shirt. "Still," he amended, "I don' want ter handle them on an empty stomach..." So saying, he walked purposefully over to the buffet, grabbed a plate, and began piling it high with food.

Sirius lightly tapped Harry on his shoulder, making him jump. "Sorry," he said. "I think I may need to, eh, run a little interference here. I'll be back in just a bit." So saying, Sirius sauntered over to Hagrid at the buffet.

Harry rolled his eyes. As he got up from the table to get some food from the buffet, he noticed Professor McGonagall hastily leaving the hall. He suppressed a smile. Harry had already made some guesses as to where Hagrid's "brelly" had gone -- and if he was right, not only did McGonagall know, but she was going right to its hiding place. Harry also noticed that Hagrid and his godfather were deep in conversation at the time McGonagall left the room.

Remus and Mr. Weasley were also still conversing at the buffet as Harry approached. "...would stand behind you on this," Mr. Weasley was saying.

"But how many others?" Remus asked.

Mr. Weasley stroked his chin. "More than you think," he said at last. Then, "Oh, hello Harry."

Harry smiled, greeted his best friend's father, and grabbed some cold fried chicken from the buffet. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but what was the question?"

Mr. Weasley gave Harry a considering look. "Actually, it's one you might be able to answer better than me," he confessed. "The headmaster offered Lupin a teaching position -- just a temporary one for now, mind -- and he was wondering what I thought Hogwarts parents would think."

The boy wizard was so excited about the idea he almost dropped his food. "I can tell you what Hogwarts students would think," Harry said at once, his face lighting up. "We'd throw a party to celebrate! Well, except maybe the Slytherins," he amended hastily. Looking at both men, he added, "I learned more about Defense Against the Dark Arts from Remus Lupin than I did from any other DADA teacher I've ever had."

"At the risk of sounding modest, that's not saying much," said Remus, a glint of humor in his eyes. Then he grew serious. "It wouldn't be for DADA, though," he pointed out.

Mr. Weasley finally suggested that Remus talk with Mrs. Weasley, stating that she knew better than he did how the parents of Hogwarts students truly felt about having their children taught by a werewolf. By the time Harry settled back at the table with his food, Sirius and Hagrid were engaged in some kind of discussion, Remus had guided Mrs. Weasley to another table for a private conversation, and Professor Dumbledore had taken Mrs. Weasley's place at the table with Ron and Terri Weasley. Both Weasleys looked a bit nervous, but Dumbledore seemed quite comfortable; indeed, if anything, he seemed to be trying to set them both at ease. Professor Weasley, Harry turned over in his mind. Imagine, a Weasley as a professor! That will take some getting used to, thought Harry as he rejoined the table.

"...made me feel very welcome," Terri was saying, with a smile for Ron. "It still amazes me -- English relatives!"

Professor Dumbledore nodded, looking pleased. "I do hope you come to feel at home here," he said, cutting a slice of roast beef.

Harry looked around the hall, with its hovering banner and floating candles and ceiling that reflected the sky. For the past four years, this place had felt more like home to him than where he lived with his aunt, uncle, and cousin. The only other place that felt anything like a real home to him was the Burrow. Gliding ghosts, moving staircases, animated pictures, a ghoul in the attic, gnomes in the garden...it didn't matter. How could someone not feel at home here, or at the Weasleys?

"I hope so too," said Terri, sounding a bit shy. "I've lived so long in the muggle world that it's been...a bit of an adjustment. I expect it'll be more so when the term starts."

"Oh yes! That reminds me," said Dumbledore, tapping his head. "There will be a meeting here before the term officially starts...all the teachers. Business matters." The headmaster stood up. "Come with me a moment, Professor Weasley; we need to make some arrangements..." So saying, he waited for Terri to stand up. She followed him over to Mr. Weasley; the two shortly joined Remus and Mrs. Weasley at the center table.

"I think you'll have your cousin with you for another part of the summer," Harry commented as he watched them go.

"Yeah, I suppose," said Ron. He pushed his food around the plate with his fork. Harry gave his friend a puzzled look. He'd seemed to like his cousin...why this reaction? Or was Ron just pretending not to care, as he often did about things that were important to him? Ron looked back at Harry, and sighed. "It's just...with you and Hermione coming over -- assuming she's not staying the whole bloody summer with Vicky, mind" Harry suppressed a grin at Ron's rude reference to Viktor Krum " -- where are we going to put everybody? And -- " Ron cut himself short, then shook his head. "I hate being poor," he whispered, almost too soft for Harry to hear, then looked back down at his food.

Harry had never considered how much it must cost to feed him and Hermione while they visited the Burrow for the summer. Mrs. Weasley had insisted that, past a certain number of people, adding two more just didn't matter. Perhaps that was true...but the Weasleys were still poor, and to Harry, that just wasn't fair. He began trying to think of ways to convince the Weasleys to accept at least some of his money.

The gradually increasing noise at the center table told him he wasn't the only one considering this issue. "Two hundred galleons, and you'll accept every knut!" came Terri's insistent voice. She banged on the table for emphasis. "And don't make me turn into an ugly American over this, okay? I have levels of ugly I haven't even reached yet!"

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but Mr. Weasley got there first. "Terri, please, " he began patiently. "This simply isn't done. It's not, eh -- "

"Polite?" Terri asked. "And is it any more polite to overburden your host and hostess for a month?" She shook her head. "When I come back at the end of July, I'm going to instruct Gringotts to transfer two hundred galleons from my account to yours. If you try to block the transfer, I'll find other ways to get the money to you. You can do as you like with it," she wound up, "but for me it's an issue of conscience." Sighing, she added, "I'm sorry if you find it...insulting. It's not intended to be insulting. Frankly, I'd be insulted if you turned it down."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Terri, and shook her head. "Edward never taught you proper manners, apparently," she said, frowning.

"Not proper manners for here, apparently," Terri shot back.

Harry saw Dumbledore whisper something, but didn't quite catch what was said. Terri sighed, and addressed her next comment to the headmaster. "A good philosophy...but I can't pretend my cousins don't need the money, and they shouldn't -- "

Dumbledore whispered something else. Terri hung her head. "I...didn't mean to do that," she said at last. Turning to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, she continued, "Is there maybe some way we can work out a compromise on this that all our egos and consciences can live with?"

"That will have to wait for later," Dumbledore cut in, looking towards the door of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall had returned. A smile softened her face, and she carried what appeared to be a long wooden box in a red and gold tote bag. She nodded at Dumbledore, and he stood up. "I'd like to have your attention for a few moments, please," he said. "Professor McGonagall and I have a small presentation to make."