Chapter Nineteen - Will It Fly?

July 21 - 27, 2001

Arthur Weasley made a very entertaining guest, Terri decided. Her cousin had arrived (via Floo powder) the day before, right around the time she came home from her last day at her Muggle job. Despite being five hours ahead of his hostesses -- therefore ready to go to sleep -- he seemed as fresh as if he had just gotten off of work and was starting to unwind from the day. His contagious enthusiasm and his delighted questions about all things Muggle kept everyone up past midnight. And who can blame him? Terri thought. When was the last time he was in a wizardly household full of Muggle artifacts?

Now it was Saturday afternoon, and Mr. Weasley hardly showed any signs of sleep deprivation. Which was a good thing, Terri reflected, while she assisted him with the magical alterations to her Camry. Technically, Terri shared her garage with her landlady, Mrs. Kenswick; but since the woman didn't own an automobile, she and Mr. Weasley had plenty of room to maneuver in the two-car garage (despite the other items taking up storage space). A wheeled TV cart did double duty as a place to hold Mr. Weasley's tools while he attached the "warped nacelles" and magically enlarged the Camry's trunk. The cart also carried a cookbook holder, which Mr. Weasley used to hold the instructions he had been given by Mundungus Fletcher for hooking things up. Those directions came in handy because, as was often the case with such things, where particular pieces connected with each other was not obvious -- and, in some cases, it wasn't obvious that it wasn't obvious. Such as the blue wire that looked like it was supposed to connect to the engine, when in fact it needed to be connected to the rear axle.

Arthur pulled himself out from under the car, wiping sweat and dirt from his brow. "There, that should do it," he said at last. "I've still got to finish enlarging your trunk, but the nacelles and the invisibility circuit are both hooked up. I'll need to test that out, of course, but --"

Just then the door to the garage opened -- not the one that admitted cars, which was closed tight lest the neighbors get suspicious, but the one that admitted people. Deidre walked in, carrying a tray which held a large pitcher of pink lemonade and three glasses full of ice. "Figured you'd be getting pretty hot out here," she commented, passing out two of the glasses and filling them -- much to the appreciation of Terri and Mr. Weasley -- before setting the tray down and filling her own. She sat down on one of the lawn chairs being stored in the garage and took a large gulp of the cold liquid herself. "You were so busy asking us questions last night that we never had the chance to ask you any," she said pointedly to their visitor from the UK. Terri nodded in agreement.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mr. Weasley apologized. He wiped his brow once again and sighed. Looking into space for a moment, he seemed to gather his thoughts, then turned back to the two witches. "Well. It's almost as if there's a lot to tell, but there's nothing to tell, if you understand me." At their blank looks, he continued hesitantly. "We've had no further word from Bill, other than that he's continuing with his mission. Sirius said that Bill is trying to contact someone `useful' in Egypt; I think he was refering to a particular person rather than someone useful in general, but I'm not sure."

"What about that family he managed to save?" Terri asked.

"Oh, they're doing well -- scared from it all, but alive and healthy," Mr. Weasley explained, taking a gulp of lemonade before he continued. "Perkins' Arabic is improving every day. It was really distressing because the woman -- well, she was the youngest of Hassan Mustafa's four wives. And a Muggle, to boot. The three children...we can't tell yet whether they'll turn out to be Muggles or magical." Mr. Weasley shook his head. "It's a very bad business; her family is willing to take her back, but it won't take the children in, and she won't go anywhere without them." The wizard sighed. "They aren't all hers, but she won't let them down; she knows she's all they have. Perkins is trying to help her find a job." Mr. Weasley looked from Deidre to Terri, a conspiratorial expression on his face. "Don't tell anyone, but I think that confirmed bachelor is smitten with her."

Terri and Deidre laughed. It was a very funny image, all the more so because Terri had actually met Perkins, albeit under stressful conditions. The older wizard looked the very image of late middle-aged English bachelorhood; pairing him up with a young Egyptian woman seemed...well, a little absurd. But then, stranger things have happened.

"How's Charlie?" Deidre asked. Terri was not the least bit surprised at the question; the two had spent a lot of time together at the Weasleys, and Deidre had asked Terri tons of questions about wizards who work with dragons.

"Oh, he's just fine -- overworked, he says, but that's not unusual," Mr. Weasley replied, gesturing lightly as he did. "Officially, you understand, he's simply back to his old job."

"And unofficially?" Terri asked.

Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow. "Unofficially, there are a lot of things I can't say," he replied cautiously. He took another gulp of lemonade before continuing. "But he is...doing some kind of selection work, I think." The wizard winked at Terri. "You'll find out when you get to Hogwarts for that `all hands' meeting. When is that supposed to be? The 25th?"

"Twenty-seventh," Terri corrected. "A week away." Sitting on the floor with her knees bent to her chest, Terri hugged her legs hard. She felt nervous about the meeting; she'd be there in an Official Capacity as one of the teachers for the term, and she'd already gotten the impression that there would be a lot more to this meeting than just having the teachers meet to go over last minute details before all the students came back. She shook her head. Best to get back to the original subject at hand. "And how's the rest of your family?"

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Percy's not very happy right now. You may have heard -- Penelope Clearwater broke up with him." Terri nodded; she remembered that the young wizard had received a letter from Penelope while she and Deidre were staying with the Weasleys, and that, from his reaction, the twins had thought she'd broken up with him. "Only he's convinced she was somehow...coerced into it. By her family." He shook his head. "Or that something else is somehow wrong with her. He wants to visit her, but she's refusing to see him, and he thinks that's `rather suspicious.'" He sighed, and took another swallow of the lemonade. "At least, he's been getting like that when he hasn't been busy working. Cornelius Fudge made him the assistant to one of his own assistants; figured it was best to keep him busy after...what happened with his boss."

Terri nodded again; she'd heard that story already. "Is it helping?"

Mr. Weasley shrugged. "It's really hard to tell. Percy...well, he's never been one to share his feelings." An uncomfortable silence came over the three of them.

"Er, and how're the twins?" Deidre asked.

Mr. Weasley's face brightened. "You'll never guess, but they actually managed to sell a couple of their wands to Zonko's -- oh, and they followed your advice, Terri, they didn't sell all rights. Zonko's has to pay them a royalty every time they sell one of those wands. They've already made 50 galleons on the arrangement." Terri mentally performed the conversion, then did the math, got back a three-digit number, and whistled. Mr. Weasley nodded. "I'm afraid Molly isn't quite sure what to do or think about it. She's been walking around the house with a sheepish look on her face -- she never did like all the pranks they came up with."

"And well she shouldn't," Deidre grumbled, while Terri laughed.

"Weren't you the one who said they made you feel like part of the family?" Terri asked. Deidre waved a hand as if she were swatting away a fly, then took a drink of her lemonade. Terri only laughed harder, and turned back to her UK guest. "So what are they doing with their new-found wealth?"

"Not much, at the moment," Mr. Weasley admitted. He tried to take a sip of his lemonade, noticed it was empty, and started reach for the pitcher. Terri beat him to it, and refilled his glass. "Thanks. No, mostly they're putting Ron through his paces. He wants to try out for Keeper this year for the Gryffindor Quidditch team...so when Ron isn't visiting Alastor Moody --"

"Why's he visiting Moody?" Terri asked. Why would anyone want to visit Mad-Eye Moody? she wondered, remembering the descriptions she'd heard of that retired Auror.

Mr. Weasley hesitated, then smiled. "Well, that's a little hard to explain," he said. "As it turns out, Madame Pomfrey was a little reluctant to release him back to his house unless there was someone who'd be willing to check up on him regularly. Ron volunteered."

Terri's eyebrows shot up. "Well, that's a surprise," she said.

"To me, too," Mr. Weasley agreed, nodding. "But, as it turns out, he had ulterior motives." Leaning close to the witches, his conspiratorial expression returned. "Apparently, Mad-Eye Moody is the only person who can consistently beat him at wizard chess."

"Wow," said Terri, impressed.

"Wait, I don't understand," Deidre piped up. "Ron wants to play wizard chess against someone who keeps beating him?"

"Of course," Mr. Weasley said. "How else do you think he's going to get any better at it?"

The witches continued to ask about all the wizarding folk they'd met in the UK. Hagrid had already sent messages back to Hogwarts, and was Officially "having a wonderful time on his vacation." Terri didn't press for details, although she wanted to; she knew that, for some items of information, the less that news was spread, the better. Likewise, Professor Snape was Officially "discovering some unusual uses for a variety of neglected flora and fauna," as well as "tracking down some very rare specimens for the creation of certain obscure potions he had read about in one of the older potions books." Professor Flitwick would be spending part of his vacation "researching ways to undo the effects of certain very nasty charms," and that much, at least, Terri felt certain was true. Professor McGonagall was vacationing with her children and grandchildren, so Mr. Weasley had heard.

"And what about Harry Potter?" Terri finally asked.

Mr. Weasley hesitated. He puffed out his cheeks and blew out his breath, while his eyes grew thoughtful. He looked away from Terri for a moment, then, seeming to come to a decision, looked back. "We're...a bit worried about him, frankly," he said, taking a sip of his lemonade. "Well, Molly is, more than anyone, I think. She's been fighting with Albus to have him moved to the Burrow for the summer ever since the term ended." He raised a finger as if lecturing. "Now you know I have nothing against Muggles -- fascinating folks, really -- but that Muggle house he stays in! Relatives or not, it's not where Harry should be staying, especially after...everything that happened last term." He gave Terri and Deidre a questioning glance, not certain of how much they knew.

"Hagrid told us all about it," Terri said, and shuddered. "Does he...blame himself for what happened?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "I honestly don't know," he said. "He shouldn't; none of it was his fault! But feelings aren't rational things, you know." He gave Terri a meaningful look that recalled the story he'd told her while walking back to the Great Hall during Hagrid's going away party. No, they aren't, she agreed silently, remembering how sure she'd been then that she should not have accepted the student teaching post at Hogwarts. But then, of course, she wouldn't be able to do her dissertation on the creation of magical paper bead jewelry.

Deidre cut in then. "Why is Professor Dumbledore resisting moving Harry to the Burrow? I mean, if that place is so much better for him than his relatives...and, come to think of it, why does he have any say in the matter? Shouldn't it be something between Harry and his Muggle relations and you and Molly?" The late-blooming witch would have asked more questions, but Mr. Weasley held up a forestalling hand.

"One at a time," he said, a bemused smile on his face. He shook his head. "And I can't tell you all the reasons, because I don't know all the details myself." Terri caught a subtle tone to his voice, a subtle shift of his body language: and I'm not sure I'd WANT to know all the details; I couldn't tell you if I did. Mr. Weasley hadn't added those words aloud, but to Terri, he might as well have shouted them.

Terri shrugged. "Well, just tell us what you know that makes sense, then," she said, opening up her own body language to encourage him to talk. "I liked what I saw of him at Hagrid's going away party; he seems like a bright wizard and a nice young man to boot."

"He's that and more," Mr. Weasley agreed, shifting his weight and wincing slightly. Like Terri, he sat on the concrete floor; Deidre stood up to offer her chair, but the British wizard again raised a forestalling hand and waved her back to her seat. "As I said, I don't know all the details. The reason Albus is involved has to do with what happened the night Harry's parents were murdered, and Albus left Harry with his aunt and uncle. It's partly magical, partly...I'm not sure, but it might pertain to magical law."

"Magical law? As in, guardianship?" Terri wondered. "Like that Smythe vs. Gillyflower case?"

"Where the child had two separate guardians, one in the Muggle world and one in the wizarding world?" Mr. Weasley asked. Leave it to Arthur to keep up to date on the cases where the two worlds overlap, Terri thought fondly. He hesitated, then shrugged. "As I said, I'm not sure. But...I know there are safeguards in place around Harry's Muggle home to prevent You-Know-Who from...well, from even seeing where Harry is when he's there, let alone getting at him to do harm."

"But he can go to Hogwarts safely," Deidre pointed out.

Mr. Weasley laughed. "Of course he can," he said. "Sadly, despite appearances, my home isn't quite as old as Hogwarts; we have some protections, but it isn't the same. Hogwarts has had the greatest witches and wizards of the last thousand years building and maintaining shields and safeguards on the castle and the surrounding grounds." He held out an empty hand, palm up. "The magic tends to run strong in my family, but obviously, I can't offer the same kind of protection. A houseful of wizards and witches isn't the same thing at all."

"But what about the protections on Harry's Muggle home? Can't they be duplicated for the Burrow?" Terri asked.

Mr. Weasley shook his head before she'd even finished speaking. "If there's a way, Albus hasn't found it yet." He paused, as if fighting with being fully honest. "Well, actually, he hasn't found any way that's workable. But he hasn't given up yet; and, if anyone can find a wizardly way to get something done, Albus can."

That seemed to close the subject. Mr. Weasley stood up with a groan, stretching out his legs. He raised his lemonade glass to Deidre and nodded thanks, then turned back to working on Terri's car.

Terri was grateful to have her cousin around for more than his help on her car and the news he could give her from the UK. She had been helping Deidre with her wizardly studies as much as possible, and though Deidre was a fast learner -- she was already into the fourth year in more than half her studies -- it was still fairly tiring, and at times it tried the patience of both witches. Mr. Weasley was more than happy to help Deidre with her studies while he stayed for an extended weekend. This gave Terri a break to work on studies of her own: wandless magic, and more research into binding protection spells into paper beads. While she knew there were certain things she couldn't test out until she was back at Hogwarts, at least she could work on eliminating ideas she knew weren't promising.

"Those are lovely," Mr. Weasley commented at dinner Saturday night, examining some of the beads Terri had finished during the day. "And they're magical, you say?"

Terri nodded as she brought dinner -- a large pot of chili -- to the table. "The one you're holding has a protection against minor curses that should last for at least five spells; that blue and green one protects against magical gases for about three minutes; the red and yellow one protects against..." She went through the list while she served dinner to her cousin and Deidre, with Esmeralda and Claire underfoot as usual.

"Hmm." Mr. Weasley stroked his chin, still looking at the beads. "May I take some of these home with me? It seems to me I saw Ginny wearing a choker the other day with beads that weren't even as nice as these. I think she'd enjoy seeing what she could come up with."

"Sure," Terri agreed, settling down to dinner. "Just make sure you leave me at least one of each type."

"Oh, I shall." He looked at the beads on the table, then at Terri, a slow smile appearing on his face. "I wonder what it would take," he said thoughtfully, "to start a trend at Hogwarts. Heavens, when I was there, the peer pressure was pretty strong...and when one or two popular students started wearing something new, whether it was clothes, hairstyle, jewelry, or what have you --"

"The whole school went along." Terri grinned.

"Except for the misfits, I'll bet," Deidre cut in. Both women had noticed that much in American schools, and presumably UK schools weren't too far different: there were always those who didn't go along with trends, for various reasons. Sometimes they just didn't notice the new fad; sometimes they couldn't afford it; sometimes they took on an attitude of being "above it all"; sometimes it was some combination of reasons.

"True," Terri agreed. Then, with a look that took in both Deidre and her cousin, she added, "But it would certainly make the task of protecting the students with these items a LOT easier if they became THE `in' thing to wear!"

"Assuming they stayed the `in' thing for the entire term," Mr. Weasley pointed out, a look of amused resignation on his face that only a veteran father of teenagers could have managed.

By late Sunday afternoon the magical alterations to Terri's car had been completed, despite some unintended fireworks dancing out of the car's expanded trunk. They bounced colorfully off the walls of the garage for nearly ten minutes, sounding like shorted electrical wires. At that point, Terri and Mr. Weasley decided to delay doing a full test on all the alterations until Monday. The young witch was so excited about the plans for the next day that she had trouble sleeping. Sneaking downstairs for a late night snack, she was surprised to hear her cousin holding a one-sided conversation. She paused at the landing placed halfway down the stairs, where they turned, and squatted down, wrapping her bathrobe around her. She was literally sitting just a few feet above her cousin's head as she heard him say:

"Well, no, it's probably not the only cover we can come up with, but you can see why it would probably be the easiest, hmm?...I already explained that to you, it's because of the way the protections work...no, I don't think you and your wife visiting me during August would be such a strange thing -- your daughter's going to be staying with me too, after all..." By this time Terri's eyes had adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room, and she could clearly see Mr. Weasley sitting on the couch, talking on the phone. After that last comment, she saw him wince and hold the phone away from his ear...and Terri clearly heard her father's voice shouting through the phone lines:

"Have you gone NUTTERS Arthur?! My daughter staying with YOUR family while Harry Potter is there also, being a magnet for Deatheaters and You-Know-Who?! You can put your OWN family at risk if you see fit, but I'll not have you --"

"She's not under your control anymore, Edward," Mr. Weasley all but shouted back to the phone. "She knew the risks when she agreed to stay with us, knew that Harry Potter would also be staying over...and knew that Professor Dumbledore would be doing everything within his power to make it safe. In fact, what I'm asking you to do will help make it safer. It's not as if you really have to do much of anything...just spread the rumor of you and your wife coming to visit me during August...no, nice try, cousin, but I know how busy you aren't in August. And I'll bet you have -- what? Five weeks of vacation saved up anyway? Six? Ha! I knew it!" There was a long pause while Mr. Weasley just listened. Finally, he sighed. "No, Edward, I can't guarentee that this will work; there are no guarentees anymore. But Professor Dumbledore asked me to look into this because he thinks it will have a chance of working, and throwing certain parties off the scent. That's a pretty high recommendation." Another long pause. "I have tried to understand Muggles better, Edward...and you, have you tried to understand wizards better? No, scratch that, it's not fair of me." Another pause. "Edward, if being a parent has taught me anything, it's that just because a child is yours doesn't mean you automatically understand her...and she's not automatically being bad, even deliberately bad, if she's not acting the way you think she's supposed to."

Oh, great, Terri thought as she continued to eavesdrop. Do I just go back to bed and pretend tomorrow that I didn't hear this...or get that snack and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear...?" She stifled a yawn, and realized that she probably wasn't thinking clearly...especially since some of what she'd heard had made her want to leap through the phone lines and throttle her father. Maybe I'd better just sleep on it. Carefully, making as little noise as she could, Terri crept back upstairs and tried to convince her body that it really should go to sleep without that snack after all.

The next day was taken up in the excitement of actually testing out all of the alterations made to Terri's Camry. There was a moment of concern when Terri pointed out to Arthur that the "wingspan" of the warped nacelles might not allow for neatly backing out of the garage; fortunately, as it turned out, they folded up and down, so that they sat directly against the sides of the car. Deidre wanted to go along, of course, and was quite prepared to put up a fight about it; Terri forestalled this by reminding her that "someone has to stay at home...you know, in case something bad happens...Arthur has family that'll be worried about him..." Much to Terri's surprise, Arthur blanched slightly at that statement -- but it did serve the purpose of convincing Deidre to stay behind, once Terri held up her cell phone to show that she'd have a way to contact Deidre if the worst did happen. At that point, of course, her cousin stared at the cell phone with a look of longing, and Terri had to promise him the opportunity to examine it later to get him into the car.

Behind the wheel of her Camry once again, Terri keenly felt both the new and the familiar. As she eased the car out of the garage, Arthur, sitting in the passenger seat, pointed out the compass, the switch to activate the invisibility circuit, the button to turn on the warped nacelles, the toggle for folding and unfolding the nacelles, and other important points. "I put in the five galleons you gave me yesterday; it won't get us very far, mind you, but it should take us far enough for a test drive."

"That's all we need for today," Terri replied, backing out onto Willow Turn. At Route 38, while she waited for the light to change, she asked, "Erm, I'm not going to have to take this up to 88 miles an hour, am I?"

"What?!" Mr. Weasley looked frankly surprised. "No, of course not. You do have to be moving, but not nearly that fast. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Never mind," Terri replied. She crossed Route 38 and pulled into an area behind the local shopping center. There was a lane meant for fire trucks that was often used by normal cars as a shortcut into the parking lot; for Terri, the important part was that it was hidden from view for most of its length by a fence on both sides. Pulling into the lane, she activated the flying circuit, then quickly hit the invisibility circuit. Almost before she knew what was happening, she was floating thirty feet in the air and cruising past the Friendly's in the next shopping center over. She and her passenger broke into cheers.

"Oh, I say, this is quite the thing!" Arthur exclaimed, and though Terri couldn't see his face, she knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Rather like your old car, eh?" Terri asked. When her cousin didn't answer for a while, she added awkwardly, "Er, I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that. I didn't mean to bring back bad memories."

"What? Er, no, it's not that." Terri sensed him shift in the passenger seat. "It's...well, you see, I never, um, actually flew the Ford Anglia."

Terri turned to face Arthur -- briefly, before her driver's habit of keeping her eyes on the road kicked in. Not that it mattered; with the Invisibility Circuit active, they were both invisible to each other. "You never flew the car?" she asked.

"Er, no. And, um, I never activated the Invisibility Circuit, either." Rushing on, he added, "But Fred and George flew the vehicle, and so did Harry and Ron -- it flew smashingly for them, so I know that --"

"Arthur?" Terri began slowly, "could you please not use the word `smashing' or any similar words while we're forty feet in the air and traveling at -- I think it's about 50 miles per hour right now. Okay?" She felt a bit disconcerted that her co-pilot, though knowledgeable about all the equipment, had never actually flown a car before, invisible or not. For just a moment, she wished Fred or George was with them.

The test run went smoothly, however, and a half hour later Terri landed her car back on Willow Turn. She took a quick look around, then killed the Invisibility Circuit and folded the nacelles next to the car before pulling it into the garage. "Wow," was all she could say, as she just sat for a moment. Then she grinned, and laughed. "This is great. The twenty-first century is here -- and I've got my flying car!"

"Only temporarily," Arthur reminded her, but he too was grinning.

Terri felt so elated from the experience that she completely forgot to ask Mr. Weasley about the phone conversation he'd had with her father until well after he left.

***************************

Harry Potter felt absolutely delighted in his good fortune. It was July 27 -- Dudley's birthday -- and, as usual, his aunt and uncle had sent him off to spend it with Mrs. Figg. He tried very hard to keep the smug expression off his face; after all, he wasn't supposed to enjoy going there, or else he'd never be sent there again. Remembering the warning from his godfather's letter, Harry slipped the Don't View Disk into his jeans pocket before leaving the house. He considered grabbing his wand as well, but decided that he didn't want to risk his uncle spotting the telltale bulge and the slender length of wood poking above his pants pocket.

But he couldn't have predicted what awaited him at Mrs. Figg's house. "Snuffles!" he cried, as the large black dog greeted him with much barking and tail-wagging at Mrs. Figg's front door.

"Ah, get inside, both of you," the elder Mrs. Figg grumped. As they entered the house, she paused to make sure the drapes were drawn, then said, "Go ahead, change back; you've been terrorizing my cats."

With a slightly sheepish expression, the large black dog changed into Harry's godfather. "Sorry," he said to the elderly witch. "It's hard to resist sometimes, you know." Harry laughed, and the two wizards hugged.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," replied Mrs. Figg, rolling her eyes with her arms crossed in front of her. "I'd like to hear you explain THAT to Minerva McGonagall -- after you've chased her up a tree."

"Not a chance," said Sirius seriously. "I know her markings, and what's more, I could probably tell her scent from an ordinary cat."

"Hmph." She turned her face from Sirius to Harry, who was still being held in his godfather's embrace. "And you -- still taking my medicine? How is it working?"

The questions came out almost sounding like demands. "M-mostly," Harry replied, nodding. He still couldn't forget the one night he hadn't taken the medication -- and the dream he'd had as a result.

Just then the younger Mrs. Figg appeared in the living room, saving Harry the trouble of explaining. "Well, are you ready to go then?" she asked.

Harry gave her a puzzled look. "Are we going somewhere?"

The younger witch turned from Harry to Sirius. "You didn't tell him, did you?" she asked, an accusatory tone in her voice.

Sirius sighed. "No, Bella, I didn't -- at Dumbledore's request," he admitted. "He planned the timing of this meeting very carefully; he didn't want to risk owling ahead and having the message intercepted."

"But Harry has a perfectly good telephone --" Arabella protested.

"Which his Muggle relations keep him from using at the slightest excuse, even when he gets a phone call," Sirius interrupted. "Dumbledore tried to get through last week, remember?"

Harry certainly remembered. It was just hours after he'd sent Sirius and Dumbledore the message about his dream. The phone rang, and for some reason Uncle Vernon had answered it himself. Harry couldn't hear the headmaster's side of the conversation, but it quickly degenerated on his uncle's side. After Vernon finished yelling "I never want to hear from you or your kind of folk again, do you hear?!" he'd turned toward Harry, opened his mouth to continue the tirade -- and suddenly stopped. He stood frozen like that for several seconds, then closed his mouth, blinked, and shook his head. It was as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say. Dudley, ever eager to see Harry catch it, tried to remind him -- but it didn't quite work. Vernon simply turned back to Harry, raised a scolding finger, and in a loud voice said "You make sure they never call us here again, you understand me?! Never again!" It was hardly up to Uncle Vernon's standard, but Harry wasn't complaining.

A sigh from Arabella Figg brought him back to the present. "So I get to take him to Hogwarts without giving him any idea of what's going to be going on there, is that it?" she groused.

Sirius shrugged. "I'm afraid so, Bella," he said, "unless you can give him a run-down in about five minutes." He gave her a look. "Frankly, I'd rather be in your shoes than mine."

The elder Mrs. Figg cackled. "You're stuck with me for today, handsome, so get used to it. I can't very well be myself and be Harry at the same time, can I?"

"What?" Harry asked. Between both Figgs and his godfather, he was beginning to feel rather like a Quaffle being passed too fast between Chasers.

Arabella sighed. "We have time for this much, Sirius," she said. Then, turning to Harry, she continued, "Professor Dumbledore has called an `all hands' meeting. Normally, that just means all the teachers -- but this time there will be a lot more people there. Prefects, at the very least, and ghosts, and others. I don't even know everything that's going on. And he wants you there." She paused. "Just in case it runs overly long, Nana has a batch of Polyjuice Potion ready so she can turn Sirius into you...if she has to."

Harry thought for a moment what his godfather, former Marauder and prankster extraordinaire, would do while posing as Harry. He couldn't decide whether his Muggle relations stood a better chance with Fred and George. He couldn't help it; he looked at Sirius and burst out laughing.

"Now, now, I made a very convincing little old lady, I ought to be able to imitate you," Sirius cut in. "Especially with the Polyjuice Potion."

"Oh, I know," said Harry, catching his breath, "it's just that -- they think you're a dangerous criminal -- and if they knew it was you under their roof --"

"Go on, laugh it up," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Just one thing: I am NOT going to do any of your homework."

"And we may not need this at all," Arabella pointed out, gesturing Harry toward her with one dark hand. "Come along Harry, we're going to Floo there."

"But we might," the elder Mrs. Figg cut in, stopping Harry with a hand. "Harry, I need a few strands of your hair."

"Take your pick," Harry said, brushing his fingers through his misbehaving black mop of hair. "Just -- try to pull the ones that are sticking up, okay? I've got few enough that lay flat."

Victoria Figg grinned, then reached up and quickly plucked out several strands at once. Harry winced. "That should hold us in case you have to be gone overnight," she said.

"Come on, Harry, we'll be late," Arabella insisted, dragging him over to the fireplace. In just a few seconds, Harry was spinning dizzily through the Floo Network -- but this was certainly a faster trip than he'd expected. Hardly any time passed at all before he landed at the other end, a fireplace in the Great Hall. The room was already so full of people Harry hardly knew where to look. He was so busy looking around at everyone that Arabella nearly landed on top of him.

"Oof!" She huffed. Neither one of them fell, though; as if by reflex, she caught him up in her motion, getting both of them away from the front of the fireplace. After a cursory examination of Harry to make sure he was all in one piece, she caught his gaze and held it. "Harry," she began frankly, "hasn't anyone taught you Floo manners?" At his blank look, she sighed. "Never mind; for right now, just remember: as soon as possible after you arrive, get out of the way, just in case someone is right behind you." Harry blinked, then nodded. You'd think I'd remember that after the number of times I've been landed on or almost landed on, he thought, mentally kicking himself.

As if on cue, the fireplace he and Arabella Figg had just exited came to life once again as two more people arrived. He recognized the red- haired witch as Professor Weasley, but hardly had time to wonder at the identity of the dark-haired witch with her before he heard his name being called.

"Harry!" He saw the mop of bushy brown hair first, and ran to meet Hermione; he was dimly aware of Arabella dashing to keep up with him. Much to his surprise, Hermione caught him up in a hug; though startled, he didn't object. As they pulled back from the embrace, Harry caught sight of Ron standing next to her, arms folded, frowning slightly. He quickly greeted Ron next, and saw some of the tension go out of his best friend's stance.

"Merry meet," Ron said, then covered his mouth and pointed at Professor Weasley and her companion across the hall, while Hermione giggled. "Cripes, those two do that so much now they have me doing it!"

"I like it," Hermione said. "It's friendly; it suits them."

"Have they been staying with you again? Or is it still?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron shook his head. "No, it's again; they're staying outside; Dad borrowed one of Perkins' tents."

"Harry, we've been worried about you," Hermione cut in. She dropped her voice. "I know Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore have been...well, doing things to get the Burrow ready for you...I think it's almost done, but --"

Ron cut in, rolling his eyes. "But they're keeping bloody close-lipped about what they're doing," he grumped. Then he, too, lowered his voice. "We saw them doing something late at night -- some kind of ritual --"

"Ginny thought to wait up and see," Hermione cut in. She frowned. "Fred and George sent out an Earwing --"

"A what?" Harry asked.

"Earwing," Ron explained. "It's...well, it's kind of like an ear that flies. New item for their joke shop." Ron sighed. "Only whenever the blasted things got close, they got blasted -- literally. Like there was some kind of anti-Ear spell on the whole area."

Harry took a quick look around the room while they were talking. The center of the Great Hall was taken up in a large conference-type table, with chairs all around it. There were several smaller tables with chairs off to the sides. Several groups had already gravitated toward a few of these, but Harry quickly spotted a free one, to which he guided his friends; at the same time, he tried to take in as much of the room and its occupants as possible.

Professor Weasley and her companion stood talking with Remus Lupin a short distance from one of the fireplaces; they were quickly joined by Professor Flitwick and one of the other teachers. The conversation became animated, but not heated. Toward the front of the room, Professor Snape spoke with Albus Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, and -- was that Mundungus Fletcher? Yes, his cheerful face and portly figure were impossible to mistake. But what's he doing here?

Indeed, Harry noticed a number of -- beings -- who looked a bit out of place. All four House ghosts wandered around the room -- all except for the Bloody Baron, who confined himself to a far corner. Looking even more out of place -- though clearly making the best of it -- stood Firenze, the centaur who saved Harry from an encounter with Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest in his first year. He chatted with Professor Trelawney -- not willingly, judging from the way his tail was flicking. Harry could not hear the Divination instructor's part of the conversation, but given his own knowledge of Sybil Trelawney, he felt a surge of empathy for Firenze.

Firenze was not, strangely, the largest being in the room. Harry's eyes widened with delight when he saw Hagrid; he would have called out to him if he wasn't in such intense conversation with his companions. Of the three, Harry recognized only one of them: his Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall. She was eying Hagrid closely from head to toe -- or, more precisely, Hagrid's outfit. He was wearing neither his usual work clothes nor his wizardly robes; instead, he wore a full Highland kilt, complete from the tip of his bonnet to the toes of his shoes. Harry wondered where the half-giant had found enough tartan to complete the outfit, and suspected McGonagall was wondering the same thing -- until he saw her eyes fix on something metallic in Hagrid's bonnet. He thought he saw a glint of disapproval in her eyes.

Hagrid's second companion spoke up then. The seated, elderly woman wore the same tartan as Hagrid. Her lined face bespoke a life of care, spent mostly outdoors. She brushed back two long, thick gray braids from her face as she leaned forward to speak to McGonagall. It was then that Harry realized that she was taller than Hagrid -- and she was still sitting down, while Hagrid was standing up.

"Is that -- Hagrid's mother?" Harry whispered to Hermione, excitement rising in his voice. He found his mother after all!

"Must be," Ron said, peering in the same direction. "There's nobody taller in the whole room."

Hagrid's third companion, if it was possible, was as short as the other three were tall. Indeed, though he was clearly an adult (and a wizard, too, from the looks of the slender bag that hung from his belt), his chin came only to the top of Hagrid's sporran. He, too, was oddly dressed -- but where Hagrid and his mother were dressed in the manner of Scots Highlanders, this wizard owed his attire to another continent entirely. From his cowboy boots (which Harry guessed from the color were made at least partly from dragonhide), to his black jeans, his blue cowboy shirt (no fringe, but discreetly embroidered with cactus), his open leather vest, and his cowboy hat, it was clear that he hailed from the same country as Harry's future Potions professor. His tanned face held a quick, infectious smile, brightly visible through his red beard. He could pass for another Weasley, Harry thought, seeing the red braids that dangled beside the man's face. No -- perhaps it was his build, perhaps his bearing, but Harry felt certain, watching as the man seemed to be trying to keep things peaceable in that corner, that this was not another American Weasley.

Amidst all the strangeness, Harry was dimly aware of other students in the hall -- maybe five or six, he guessed. There was also a small knot of adults who were clearly not teachers; noticing Mrs. Weasley among them, Harry wondered if they might be parents of some of the students. He shook his head, gave up trying to absorb it all, and turned back to his friends.

**********

Terri and Deidre dusted themselves off after landing through the fireplace in the Great Hall. Despite swearing off black robes (especially after meeting Professor Snape), Terri had to admit that the ones she wore now -- salvaged from her college graduation -- showed far less soot. Deidre nudged Terri, interrupting her clean-up, and pointed across the room. "I recognize that face," she said, with just a hint of emphasis on the last word.

Terri looked to where Deidre was pointing, and nearly choked. Hastily she cleaned the rest of the soot off her robes, and dragged her friend over to a corner of the room where she hoped they wouldn't be spotted too quickly...at the same time embarrassed that her old teacher could make her so self-conscious still. What was Gavin Bones doing here?!

Terri had little time to ponder that question before Remus Lupin sauntered over. "Snuffles sends his regards, and regrets that he hasn't been able to visit you since you arrived," he said.

"Tell him to get his tail over to the Burrow when he gets the chance, then," Terri grinned.

"I understand you two had quite a fun time getting over to the Burrow yourselves," Remus commented.

Terri rolled her eyes. It should have been a seven-hour trip; the red-haired witch had felt a sudden unnamed dread when Deidre started the trip by singing the theme to "Gilligan's Island" once they were airborne. After that..."Well, we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque," Terri admitted.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know you had to travel over -- New Mexico, is it? -- to reach the UK."

"That's what I said," Terri replied, fixing a glare on Deidre.

Deidre glared right back. "I needed a bathroom break. Badly. Besides, I figured it'd be a good place to ask for directions."

Remus smiled. "But I'm pretty sure there are spells that help with that. Isn't that right, Professor Flitwick?"

The tiny Charms professor was indeed walking in their direction, with another professor in tow. "Help with direction? Oh my, yes. `PointMe,' for instance, which makes the wand point north; I teach it to my fifth-years, but some students can learn it as early as the third year."

"We tried that," Deidre whined. "When I did it, my wand made three full rotations, and then pointed straight UP!" Then she glared again at Terri. "And when you tried it --"

"Hey, don't blame me now," Terri said, backing away slightly and holding up her hands. "I told you we should just trust the compass, especially after we'd played -- was it a whole year of mah jongg? -- with Mrs. Kenswick and her daughter the night before."

The werewolf's eyebrows rose. "What's mah jongg have to do with it?"

Terri and Deidre gave Remus twin "Isn't it obvious?" looks before answering. Finally, Terri laughed. "Oh, we should go easy on him," she said. to Deidre. "He probably doesn't have the advantage of growing up in a house with lots of gossipy middle-aged Jewish women around." Turning back to Remus, she explained, "Mah jongg is a four-player Chinese game. Like some four-player card games, there's a North, South, East, and West, which rotate throughout the game. Because it's an old Chinese game, it goes by the old Chinese compass -- in which their North is actually our South." Remus nodded understanding, while Professor Flitwick's eyes grew wide. "Since my grasp of direction really isn't great to begin with, well..." Terri shrugged.

"That's the first time I've heard of the `PointMe' spell being affected in quite that way, though," Flitwick cut in, clearly intrigued. He then shook himself, and turned to the professor he'd brought with him. "Please, forgive me. This is Professor Vector, teacher of Arithmancy and Muggle Studies; Professor Vector, these are Terri Weasley and Deidre Freedman. Professor Weasley is the student teacher you've heard about, joining us to cover Potions and complete her special project on spell-storing jewelry; Miss Freedman will be assisting her."

"I've had to double up, I'm afraid," the professor said as she shook Terri's hand. "Between the majority of students who think Arithmancy is too tough to be getting on with, and the ones who think Muggle Studies won't lead them anywhere useful...but of course, that's why I wanted to talk with you and Miss Freedman. I understand you're both Muggle born, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

Terri and Deidre looked at each other with expressions of amused resignation. Mr. Weasley asked them tons of questions whenever he got the chance. Hermione, who was also staying at the Burrow for the rest of the summer, had assured them that he did this whenever he encountered Muggle born wizards, or even Muggles -- but she had also mentioned, a bit darkly, that most wizards in this part of the world did not take such a strong interest in Muggle things. "Sure, we'd be glad to answer whatever questions you have," Terri said, and the discussion quickly became rather animated as the professors compared Muggle versus magical methods of communication and transportation.

Presently, "Would everyone please take their places at the table?" was heard. Professor Dumbledore's voice carried throughout what had become a rather noisy room. With a wave of his wand, placecards and pieces of parchment appeared at every seat at the conference table. Terri sighed with relief when she noticed that she wasn't sitting next to Professor Snape; rather, she was a bit further away from what looked like the head of the table, near both Professor Vector and Remus Lupin. The headmaster himself took his place at the head of the table. Terri had just enough time to notice that Ron and Hermione were sitting at the other end of the table, with Harry sitting between Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, before Professor Dumbledore opened the meeting.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, this is a rather larger `all-hands' meeting than usual." He paused, allowing everyone to take in the presence of students (nine all told), parents, several ghosts, one picture (a dark-haired lady hanging over a fireplace, which Dumbledore indicated with a nod of his head, which the lady returned), other adults who were neither parents of students nor teachers, a centaur (Terri's jaw dropped when she saw this -- she'd heard about them, true, but never seen one!), Hagrid's "little" group (though the short, red-haired man was now sitting separately), and even a house elf (Dobby -- who had to be eased out from behind Dumbledore and into his own chair, and sat trembling a bit). "Because of the events of the last school year, I've found it necessary to make a few changes, with several goals in mind. Let me start this meeting, at least, with a glad announcement: eight of the students here have been chosen to be prefects." This statement was greeted with various expressions of surprise, delight, bewilderment, and, at least in one case, smug satisfaction. "For House Slytherin: Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy. For House Ravenclaw: Padma Patil and Terry Boot. For House Hufflepuff: Susan Bones and Ernest MacMillan."

"Smashing good show!" exclaimed Gavin from across the table. Several people rewarded his outburst with odd stares; Susan herself blushed and half hid her face in one of her hands. Terri covered a giggle. Well, and why shouldn't he be pleased that his niece had made prefect? Even Dumbledore looked more amused than annoyed at the interruption.

"And finally, for Gryffindor: Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley." Terri beamed at her cousin; Mrs. Weasley looked as if she'd died and gone to heaven. Harry, however, looked more than a bit puzzled. He must be wondering why he's here, Terri thought, and found herself wondering the same thing. Before she could speculate, the headmaster continued. "All of these students will please follow Madame Pince to the library, where she will begin explaining your new responsibilities. You will be served lunch; afterwards, if you wish, you may go home or stay for a time to do research."

Terri smiled as the eight students stood up and followed the librarian out of the room; she noticed that the two Slytherins turned to glare at Harry and the other Gryffindors with disdain. Ron turned red, but Hermione tapped his hand and shook her head. Terri knew, of course, that at least one of the Gryffindors would avail herself of the chance to do research in the Hogwarts library. In the short time she'd been acquainted with the young witch, Terri had found a lot to like; she'd even made some suggestions for Terri's spelled paper beads which Terri had put on her list to try. It's a pity she'll probably be too busy to help me out more once school starts, Terri thought, but from everything I've heard, I can't think of anyone more deserving of being a prefect.

"Now," said Dumbledore, after Madame Pince and the students had left the Great Hall, "it is time to hear from someone who came a very long way to be here. Mr. Gleeson?"

The short red-haired man -- wizard, Terri corrected herself when she saw the wand bag hanging from his belt -- drew his wand, pointed it at his feet, and muttered something that sounded very much like "Purgare bootis." Once again, Terri had to cover a giggle. It was just the sort of playful disruption of the Latin of the spell that she'd expect from one of her countrymen. "Okay, now that mah boots are spotless --" he drawled, then, carefully, he stood up on his chair. Terri glanced quickly at the other teachers. Snape was turning red; McGonagall's lips were drawn into a fine line; Lupin raised his eyebrows and seemed to be covering a smile; Flitwick acted as if nothing unusual had happened; and Dumbledore wore a look of understanding on his face. " --and not messin' up yer purty furniture, let me get t'where yeh kin see me." He looked at all the people in the room with an expression that all but dared anyone to say anything. They didn't. Even standing up on the chair, the wizard was shorter than Hagrid.

"First of all," he said, "let me interduce mahself. Ah'm James Lee Gleeson -- Jimmy Lee t'mah friends. Since y'all are so formal around here, though, ya kin call me Jim Lee." Smiling a bit shyly, he continued. "And Ah'm here repersentin' th' town o' Buffalo Gap, Texas, located in the US of A. Now, Ah don't blame ya if'n ya haven't heard o' Buffalo Gap; there's no more'n 300 folks all told. But we sure have heard o' you all -- 'specially after that Triwizard Tournament." Gleeson's drawl started to disappear a bit as he spoke -- or maybe it's just my ears getting accustomed to it, Terri thought.

"Anyway," Gleeson continued, "we're big on sports in Buffalo Gap, and naturally some folks had subscriptions to the `Daily Prophet' and a few other pubs -- excuse me, magazines, pubs means something else here. And we were getting pretty excited about the tournament. Even worse than over quodpot, and that's saying a lot!" He flashed a quick grin, but hastily continued when almost no one returned it. "So, naturally, we thought it was a little strange when the tournament ended and the story of who won was practically buried. It's not how we do things at home, you understand, and after all that coverage, well, we figured it wasn't the way you normally did things here, either. So some of us started asking questions." Gleeson withdrew a red bandanna from a pocket of his jeans, lifted his cowboy hat, and wiped his brow. He returned the bandanna to his pocket, but left his cowboy hat off, holding it almost in a gesture of supplication. "We found someone who had a friend who had a friend who had a student that goes to Hogwarts -- well, two students actually, but that's not important now. So we heard about what happened -- and what you said at the Leaving Feast, Headmaster Dumbledore sir." The last was spoken with great respect. "So I'm here, having been chosen on behalf of all the folks in Buffalo Gap, to ask you: is he really back?"

Gleeson's question was spoken almost in a whisper. For a second or two, the Great Hall was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Finally, a soft voice spoke -- not the headmaster's voice, but Harry's. "Yes, he is," Harry said at last. "I saw -- I was there. I saw the whole thing."

The cowboy wizard turned to look at Harry, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he said, "I wonder if I might be allowed to ask you a few questions in private."

The room all but exploded. Mrs. Weasley started shouting and leaned forward as if trying to interpose her body between Harry and Jim Lee; Professors McGonagall and Snape also started shouting, for once in apparent agreement; Mad-Eye Moody began banging his walking stick on the conference table to get attention; and several other voices were raised. While it was hard to hear anything distinctly among the raised voices, the sentiment came across clear enough: the red-headed stranger was just that, a stranger, and, in these times, could not be trusted alone with the only person who had ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse, and sucessfully escaped Voldemort's wrath so many times. Terri shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She understood the reaction, of course, but she felt unhappy for her fellow American.

"SILENCE!" Professor Dumbledore raised his arms as he intoned the word, and all talking stopped, like throwing a switch. The headmaster's gaze swept the professors, the visiting wizard, and finally Harry. He lowered his arms and sighed, then turned back to Jim Lee. "My colleagues have raised a number of valid points -- which I'm certain you caught, despite the volume." Dumbledore's small, benevolent smile took the sting out of his statement. "How do you propose to address them? For, you must understand, I cannot allow you to put the safety of any Hogwarts student at risk."

"Just from answering a few questions?" Jim Lee asked innocently. Hastily, he raised his hand to forestall more protests. "No, I know, I understand what you mean, you don't know me from Adam." He sighed, and ran his hand over his hair and to the back of his neck. Rubbing his neck uncomfortably, he looked at Dumbledore and said, "I'd be willing to answer questions myself under Veritaserum, if that would help."

Surprised mutters met this statement, made oh so casually. Terri gasped; Deidre looked bemused, but Remus looked quite shocked. "Are all Americans that brave -- that willing to be open?" he whispered to Terri.

"No," she whispered back, "but given a strong enough reason --"

Jim Lee tapped his foot impatiently on the chair, and said more loudly, "Look, I was sent here with a mission!" As the voices stilled, he continued, "We need to know. Some of us helped fight the bast -- excuse me, helped fight him before; we're prepared to do a lot to help fight him again. But if we're going to whip out our wands of whomp ass, we've got to know that it really IS him that we're up against. We've got to know the truth." The cowboy wizard turned from Dumbledore to Harry. "That's why I want to ask you in private; I don't want you to feel pressured one way or another about telling me what you know, and what you saw. If it's as bad as I think -- hell, I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to talk about it at all, much less to someone like me."

Harry lowered his eyes. He seemed to be turning something over in his head. When he looked up again, it was with determination on his face. "I don't want to answer your questions," he said, anger in his voice, "but if that's what it takes to get you to help us against Voldemort --" most of the room shuddered at his mention of the wizard "--I'll do it. But not alone."

Mad-Eye Moody tapped the floor with his walking stick. "I'll stand as witness," he said, with more gravel than usual in his voice. He turned both eyes to Jim Lee and glared. "And act as Harry's Guardian, if necessary." Jim Lee nodded respectfully; apparently, he understood the emphasis behind the word. Harry nodded as well, but cast a pleading look in Remus Lupin's direction. Terri noticed that a black woman sitting with the teachers wore a disgruntled expression at Moody's comment, and shifted unhappily in her chair.

Dumbledore cast a questioning look at the rest of the table. "Are these terms acceptable to the rest of you?" he asked.

"I'll stand as well," Remus Lupin and the black woman said almost simultaneously.

Before another wave of voices came over the room, Dumbledore raised his hands again. "Professor Lupin, I can excuse you -- but not you, Professor Figg." The black woman began to open her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore continuned "You are my Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor; you need to be here for the teacher's portion of this meeting." Dumbledore's gaze swept Lupin, Moody, Gleeson, and Harry Potter as he said "I believe you'll find an empty classroom just down the hall that will serve your needs." As if at a signal, the wizards rose (Jim Lee stepped down from his chair), nodded to the headmaster, and silently left the Great Hall.