June 8-July 2, 2001

There were things to be said for sleep deprivation, thought Terri, as she settled into her chair at the office the next day. It's cheaper than drugs...and you get to see such pretty colors...She gave her head a shake, and regretted for at least the fifth time that morning that she couldn't bring herself to drink coffee. Foul-tasting stuff...

She was so busy updating the Compaq company profile that she barely noticed when her supervisor went into the managing editor's office. Fifteen minutes later, the managing editor came over to her desk--and had to say her name twice to get her attention. Terri nearly jumped out of her skin.

"May I see you in my office for a minute?" he stated. Terri nodded, still gasping, and got up to follow him. His office was right near the open area where the rest of the editors worked, so she didn't have far to go; in that short distance, Terri thought of at least three or four reasons he might have to call her into his office--two were negative, one was positive, and one would call for more work from her regardless. She had to remind herself, forcefully, that she had barely passed Divination--and even then, she rather suspected the old Gypsy witch who taught her only passed her out of pity.

This time was no different. "Is there a problem, Marc?" she asked hesitantly, after closing the door.

Marc touched the tips of his fingers together, then folded his hands, looking thoughtful. "Not as such," he said. He took a breath. What did he mean, not as such? Terri wondered. "I didn't mention this to you yesterday, because I figured you'd want the time to start getting caught up from vacation, but I received an interesting phone call while you were away." He paused, and Terri felt her blood freeze. "Do you know a Mr. Albus Dumbledore?"

No! Marc's a Muggle, dang it! "Er...we've corresponded," Terri replied, feeling dazed. She tried to kick her brain into high gear, but after getting only three hours sleep the night before, she felt like it was running on only two and a half cylinders.

Marc nodded. "I thought so," he said, laying his hands flat on his desk-sized calendar. "He said he was from...from..." Marc started rummaging on his desk, apparently looking for a piece of paper. "Now that's odd," he continued, brushing hair back on his balding head. "I could have sworn I made notes..." Marc shrugged, then turned back to Terri. "Anyway, he said he was headmaster at a small private college in the UK, whose name escapes me, and that you wanted to pursue some graduate work there..." Marc raised his eyebrows in a question. "Is this true?"

Terri exhaled, and found she had trouble meeting his eyes. "Yes, it is," she said weakly. Then she looked up. "It's a very exclusive college--I didn't expect them to accept my project, really--"

Marc raised a hand. "He didn't say whether he'd accepted you to do your project there--at least, I don't recall that he did." He frowned. "I'm a little surprised you didn't mention this to me or your direct supervisor, though; you know we have a tuition reimbursement program."

Reimbursement for magical studies? I don't think so, thought Terri with amusement. "Um...what I'd be studying won't be relevant to my job here," she explained.

"I see." Marc looked almost disappointed for a moment, then managed a smile. "Well, reporting on cutting-edge technology isn't the be-all and end-all for everyone. Might I ask what your project covers?"

"No!" Terri snapped the word out before she could stop herself. Marc looked as if she'd just slapped him. "Er, that is," she continued hastily, "I got a letter from Professor Dumbledore last night saying that they couldn't accept my project as it stands, and that he wanted to make some sort of counterproposal. So even if I told you, that's likely to change."

"A letter already? He works fast," Marc observed

"E-mail," Terri reminded

"Oh, of course." His face changed to concern. "So you haven't received the counterproposal itself yet, though?"

"No," Terri said. "I think he wants to arrange a face-to-face interview."

"He'll be flying you out there, then." Marc looked thoughtful, then sighed. "Please keep me and Ann posted on this, hmm? We've already lost one person in your group--and word from upper management is that he's not being replaced." Terri opened her mouth to protest, but Marc held up his hand again. "I probably should have waited to tell you that; Darrin will be discussing it in a meeting this afternoon." Ann was Terri's supervisor; Darrin was the company's CEO. It was one of the things she appreciated in working for a company with less than forty employees--everyone knew everyone else by their first name. Even Jim, who handled the mail and some of the office maintenance, called Darrin by his first name; it helped that they were both ex-Marines.

"Is it--because of the economy?" Terri asked. She knew business wasn't what it used to be; and if companies were tightening their belts, they were more likely to consider her firm's product a luxury rather than a necessity. You can't make sales if there isn't any money, she thought

"I'll let Darrin tell you," Marc said. "Right now--well, just be sure and keep us in the loop. Two weeks' notice would be nice."

Terri nodded. She left the office with her heart hammering in her chest. Professor Dumbledore must have used a Selective Memory Charm--and over the phone! she thought. Even American wizards found it tricky to mix magic and technology--though that never quite stopped them from trying. And most UK wizards were known to be positively phobic about it. That was why their Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department could manage with just two wizards, even if it was swamped. Well...that, and the smaller population in the UK. The American equivalent of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department was larger by an order of magnitude, so she'd heard--and kept looking for wizards with computer experience. She'd considered applying once, until she realized how little creativity and writing - and how much boring clerical work - would be involved. Still, she would have been part of the wizarding world rather than having to tread so cautiously among Muggles

She shook off those thoughts as she returned to work. She'd hardly settled back down when Ann came over to her, asking for a few words in the conference room if she had a moment. She did. As expected, it turned out to be on the same subject that Marc had discussed with her.

"Wow," said Ann. "I've never been to England before. You must be really excited about this."

"Really nervous is more like it," Terri confessed.

"Oh, you'll do fine. Try to get some pictures--if they let you have any time for sightseeing while you're there!" Ann shifted uncomfortably in her seat, one hand on her swollen belly. "And please let me know anything as soon as you know. With Rob gone, and me going on maternity leave in late August..." she trailed off

Terri winced. She actually liked working here, and the people were a big reason for that. No pointy-haired bosses or back-stabbing co-workers here! Even if she was the only wizard..."I promise, you'll be the first to know," she said

The meeting with Darrin, which included the entire editorial department, went more or less as Terri had expected. Sales were off, mainly due to the economy; therefore, to cut costs, Rob would not be replaced, at least not immediately...he said a number of other things, mainly letting the editors know that their work is appreciated, and that they would have to go now for quality over quantity, to make best use of their resources. This of course did nothing to reduce this month's workload...Terri did her best to keep from dozing off, and (mostly) succeeded. Ann gave her a discreet shake when the meeting ended.

"Uh? I was awake," Terri said quickly.

"I know you were," Ann replied

The rest of the day was busy and uneventful. When Terri came home that evening, instead of "Merry meet," Deidre greeted her with, "Guess what? We have a visitor!"

"Really?" asked Terri. She kicked off her black flats, dropped her (magically repaired) attache case by the door, and hurried into the living room. Perched on a pink overstuffed seat the two friends referred to as "the comfy chair" was another barn owl, who glanced from one to the other as if to say "Well, what did you expect?"

"I had no idea the--what did you call it--?"

"Owl post," Terri supplied

"Right, owl post--was so fast between here and the UK."

"I didn't think it was, either," said Terri, and a look of concern crossed her face as she went to the owl. In fact, she knew it wasn't. Gavin Bones, her first magic tutor--and British right down to his pinkies, bless him--said he'd had to wait at least three days, and sometimes up to two weeks or more, to get a reply from home. Then again, some of that might have had to do with what he'd fled...Terri shuddered. She came into her magic just after the worst time of Lord Voldemort's reign, when he was defeated by the Boy Who Lived. Still, for this kind of turnaround, someone must have put a potent spell on the owl.

The owl held out its claw to her. She untied the attached item, which was another letter from Hogwarts, opened it, and began to read.

Deidre fidgeted. "Well, what's it say?!"

"Oh! Sorry." Terri gave her friend a sheepish look. "Professor Dumbledore wants me to see him for an interview at Hogwarts on July 2nd--2 PM his time, 9 AM our time." He'd thoughtfully included the conversion in his letter--which was a relief, since she wasn't quite certain in which time zone the school was located. "That shouldn't be too bad."

"Not too bad?! What about--" Just then a buzzer sounded. Deidre scurried over to the oven, followed by the cats--and Terri. She'd been smelling dinner since she came in the door, and there was nothing fishy about it. As Deidre grabbed a long-handled wooden paddle, Terri tapped her shoulder.

"You take care of the pizza. I'll handle the cat food."

Deidre grinned as she opened the oven and Terri reached into the cupboard for Claire and Esmeralda's dinners. The two hungry cats were yowling impatiently. Soon enough, the felines were fed; their two humans dined on fresh homemade pizza and garden salad prepared earlier and refrigerated in wait for the pizza.

"I still don't understand why you're saying nine AM our time isn't too bad," Deidre insisted. She pointed her crust at Terri for emphasis. "Do you have any idea how long it'll take to fly between here and there? And then there's the drive to the airport, and you have to get there at least an hour before your flight leaves--no, two hours, that's right, it's not a domestic flight--"

"And all of that is totally irrelevant," Terri cut in, taking her second slice of pizza. "Professor Dumbledore said in his letter that he's sending a Portkey."

Deidre stopped, mouth still open as if to say something. She blinked, and closed her mouth abruptly. "Oh." Then, a bit peevishly, "Well, why didn't you say so?"

"I just did," Terri said with a sigh. She heard the flap of wings, and turned. Dumbledore's feathered messenger had flown over and perched on the spare kitchen chair. He fluffed himself up and hooted.

"Hey," said Deidre, looking at the owl, "I just noticed--the other owl didn't make any noise when he flew..."

"Dumbledore wants a reply," Terri observed. The owl hooted again, as if in confirmation. Terri wiped her mouth and stood up, pushing out her chair. "Well then, I'd better write one." She went back to the comfy chair and picked up the letter.

"Wait!" Deidre cried, standing up herself and brushing some crumbs off her long green caftan. "I have an idea!"

Terri shaded her eyes. "I can tell; can't you lower the wattage on that bulb over your head?" Deidre came out from behind the table and gave Terri a mock-stern look. Terri returned it with her best "Who, me?" look. Deidre rolled her eyes.

"Dumbledore wants to see you July 2nd, right? Well, that's right around July 4th, isn't it?"

Terri bit her lip. Sometimes Deidre acted rather like she'd earned her "Ditsy" nickname. "It was the last time I checked the calendar. So?" she said aloud.

"So," Deidre answered, hand on hip, "don't you get that as a holiday from work? In fact, don't you get a day or two around that off?"

"Well, yeah," said Terri, thinking she knew where this was leading.

"And don't you still have some vacation time?"

"I don't want to use up all my vacation time in the middle of the year!" Terri exclaimed.

"And how often are we likely to get a chance to visit England?" Deidre demanded.

"That's not the point," Terri explained, "this is an interview, and--hey, wait a second! What do you mean, `we,'?" She fixed Deidre with a stare.

Deidre fidgeted, looking away first. "Well...you did tell me last night that Portkeys can carry more than one person, right?"

"Right," Terri conceded.

"So I kind of thought..."

"Oh no!" At Deidre's hurt look, Terri continued hastily, "It's not that I don't want you along--heavens, Deidre, haven't we been talking about going to England since our sophomore year?! It's that this is an interview. You don't take anyone along with you on an interview...it just isn't done. You know that."

"Millie didn't care when I interviewed with her and you came along with me," Deidre pointed out.

"I was going as a customer," Terri said with a sigh. "And speaking of which--won't you be working that weekend?"

Deidre grinned evilly. "I thought I'd ask for that time off anyway. Jason should be up to handling the store by himself then, don't you think?"

Terri's eyes widened. "Why you little...witch! You're going to let Jason fall flat on his behind so Millie can see how much she needs you, aren't you?"

"Oh please." Deidre snorted. "I'm not that mean. And anyway, it'd be just my luck he'll have mastered things enough he'll show her just how much she doesn't need me." She looked at Terri again. "Could it hurt to ask the headmaster if he'd mind?"

"Err..." Terri hesitated. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then sat heavily in the comfy chair. The owl flew over and perched on one of its arms. Terri stared hard at her bond-sister again. How was she going to say this without having it come out as an insult?

"It's...something else, isn't it?" Deidre asked. Before Terri could protest, she continued, "It's because I'm a...Muggle, right?"

Terri opened her mouth, wanting to deny it...but knew she couldn't. "Yes," she said. Deidre looked sad again. "Sister," Terri said kindly, "it's...not exactly the safest place for Muggles, you know."

"A children's boarding school?!" Deidre stamped her foot. "I bet I was exposed to worse teaching at Miramar!" Miramar was the high school in Florida Deidre taught at for a year...before she was let go. The higher ups gave any number of reasons, none of which truly added up to her not being a good teacher. Deidre had been sure it was because of her religion--but of course, no one could come out and say that, and Deidre, though angry, hadn't wanted to start a discrimination suit. Terri had, by coincidence, called Deidre on the day she'd been dismissed--which was also, by coincidence, about two days after she heard about an opening at Millie's Wicca shop. Deidre went from Florida to New Jersey...and, as in college, the two had been roommates ever since.

"Yeah, but those kids couldn't cast spells," Terri said sensibly.

"But won't the Hogwarts students be gone for the summer?" Deidre asked.

Terri opened her mouth, then closed it. She had her there. "Okay, you're right on that; they don't have a summer session."

"So the students wouldn't be a concern," Deidre persisted. "That just leaves the teachers, doesn't it? And surely they wouldn't be a problem!"

Terri rolled her eyes. Oh, if only it were that simple! "It's not the teachers that are likely to be a problem, true," she conceded. She began ticking off problems on her left hand. "But then there's the ghosts, Peeves the poltergeist, the critters in the Forbidden Forest--including werewolves, REAL werewolves--the fact that I'm not even sure they allow Muggles on the premises, what with the fact that the place is enchanted to look like a dangerous ruin to any Muggle that happens across it--"

Deidre looked bewildered. "How do you know about all this, anyway?"

"It's all in Hogwarts, a History. I can lend it to you...no, better, if you're going to insist on trying to come along with me on this, it's required reading." Terri felt resigned when she saw Deidre's eyes light up and her mouth turned into a round "O" with delight. I should have known better, she reflected, remembering the first time she opened her first wizardly studies book, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger. She went through nearly three chemistry kits in that first school year...Terri brought her thoughts back to the present, where Deidre still looked excited. "Is there anything I can say to talk you out of this?"

"Nope," Deidre said confidently. Terri sighed.

"Okay, I'll ask." As Deidre gave a little jump and a happy exclamation, Terri added, "Mind you, if this hurts my chances to get that dissertation project at Hogwarts..."

"It won't," said Deidre, ignoring Terri's scolding finger.

"Really? And how do you know that?" Terri asked sarcastically.

Deidre shrugged. "I just know, that's all."

Terri sighed, then looked back down at the letter. "Okay, get me a pen then, would you?"

The barn owl, which had been watching this exchange closely, turning his head first to one speaker ant then the other, gave another hoot and settled itself to watch Terri. Deidre got up and returned with a pen and a book from the coffee table. Terri smiled her thanks, placed the blank back of the note face up on the book, and uncapped the pen. She put the back end of the pen to her lips, trying to come up with the right way to phrase her request. As Deidre washed the dishes, she began writing, pausing once or twice to say "No!" to Claire when she tried to get too close to the comfy chair.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I agree to the timing you have scheduled for the interview; it fits into my plans perfectly. In fact, I will be off work on July 4th, 5th, and 6th, in addition to the weekend, so I'm planning on taking July 1st and 2nd off, and making a regular vacation of it. This may sound terribly provincial of me, but I've never visited the UK, and I've wanted to for years.

This brings me to a question. I have a sister by Wiccan oath, Deidre Freedman, who also very much wants to visit the UK. If she could travel with me by Portkey, I know she could finalize the arrangements for our stay in the UK; she needn't inconvenience you at all. May I have your permission for her to come with me?

I'm looking forward to your reply. Please also let me know if there is anything special I should bring to the interview. Thanks very much again for considering my doctoral project.

Most sincerely yours,
Terri Weasley

Terri let out a breath after she finished writing. There, it's done, she thought. She refolded the letter, stuffed it back into the envelope, and reattached it to the owl (who was already holding out his leg for the letter). She recapped the pen, set it and the book aside, then got up and opened the sliding glass door. The owl jumped from the armrest to the top of the spare kitchen chair, then was gone through the door with a mighty flap of its wings.

"Happy?" Terri asked Deidre, who had just finished washing the dishes.

"Yes," said Deidre with a satisfied smile.

"You won't be."

Deidre's brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

Terri smiled, raised her right hand, and bent the middle finger forward. "Accio Hogwarts, A History!" she said. Within a few seconds, a very large book came sailing down from her room. She held up both hands to catch it. "Oof. There you are, Deidre," said Terri, turning to her friend and presenting the enormous tome. "Required reading, to be finished before July 2nd." At Deidre's overwhelmed expression, she continued, "Goodness, did I forget to mention that Hogwarts was founded a thousand years ago?"

Several heart-stopping days passed before Terri received another owl from Hogwarts. Meanwhile, she tried--unsuccessfully--to bury herself in her work and forget it; this did have the beneficial side effect of helping her meet her mid-month deadlines. She did let her supervisor know about the upcoming interview (which she hoped was still on). Deidre was unusually quiet during this period; Terri noted that she brought `Hogwarts, a History' to the dinner table every night, and was making good progress.

When the next owl finally did arrive, Terri barely spared it a glance before taking the envelope and ripping it open.

Dear Terri Weasley,

While this is a highly unusual request, these are highly unusual circumstances--and, as I have been given to understand it, the oath the two of you have taken is as binding as a marriage contract. So I am prepared to permit Deidre to travel with you by Portkey to Hogwarts, provided she is willing to abide by certain restrictions.

Firstly, she must travel with her eyes shut, and not open them until the two of you arrive. You will be met by a representative from Hogwarts, at which time Deidre should open her eyes and describe to the representative EXACTLY what she sees (he will be able to detect whether she is lying). Depending on what she sees, we will proceed from there. In any case, she will need to be escorted by a Hogwarts witch or wizard so long as she remains on school grounds.

As to the interview itself, you need not bring anything that you would not normally bring to an interview for a wizardly post. I look forward to meeting you at last. The Portkey should arrive shortly before the scheduled interview.

Most sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore

Terri sighed in relief, then read the letter out loud to Deidre. "Okay?" she asked.

"I hope so," said Deidre. At Terri's puzzled expression, Deidre waved her hand. "I consent. Go ahead and answer that; I'll tell you afterwards."

Terri scribbled her agreement to the conditions laid down by Professor Dumbledore and passed it to the owl, who promptly took off. It now being Terri's week to cook dinner, she took some boneless chicken breast and an assortment of vegetables from the refrigerator, placing them near the cutting board. "Come in here and talk to me," she called to Deidre as she grabbed the cat food for the yowling felines.

Deidre came into the kitchen, a worried expression on her face. "I'm really sorry I was so selfish," she said. Terri looked up. "I mean, all I thought of was a chance to visit the UK; I didn't realize just how serious all this is..." She looked away. "I've been a first-class idiot, haven't I?"

"Well, yes." Deidre's head snapped up at that. "But you're still my sister, kiddo."

By this time Terri had gotten the cat food cans open. She placed the food in the bowls on the floor and was thus able to fix the human dinner--a chicken stir-fry--unencumbered by cats. Deidre grabbed a pot and measured out water for boiling rice. Terri watched her body language, and picked up her continued tension. There's more going on here than she said there is, she thought.

"And you're still a first-class idiot," Terri continued. At Deidre's startled look, she added, "Or you would've told me what else has you all upset."

Deidre hesitated. "I...I didn't know whether to mention it or not," she said, putting the pot on the stove to boil. "I mean, I'm sure it was just a coincidence..."

"But," Terri cut in.

"But--well, Jason was going through the books we have at the store yesterday. I'd just explained to him why we have them sorted the way we do. Well, I had to go take care of customers then. So I glanced back at what he was doing when I finished with them--"

"And he was arranging them differently?" Terri asked.

"Darn right he was!" Deidre took a deep breath. "Millie noticed it, too." Deidre put on a high, nasal voice. "`That's not the way you sort those books! Honestly, how do expect our customers to find anything if you don't put the stuff where they expect to see it?'" Deidre's imitation of Millie was so good that Terri couldn't help grinning. "And then Jason...he..." Deidre balled a fist, then unballed it with a great effort. "He told Millie that I'd told him to sort the books that way!"

"What? No!" Terri was so upset for her friend she nearly cut her finger instead of the chicken.

"Yes!" Deidre stamped her foot.

"And Millie believed him?"

"I don't know," said Deidre, running her hand nervously through her hair. "But...that's not what really scared me today."

"Oh?" Terri asked.

"No." Deidre watched as Terri finished cutting up the chicken into strips and start on chopping the carrots. "Right after I heard Jason accuse me, the bookshelf gave way and nearly landed on both of them." At Terri's startled look, Deidre rushed on, "They're pretty old shelves anyway, it had to be a coincidence, right? I mean, folks don't come to magic late in life, do they?"

Just then, the water, which had been ignored, nearly boiled over. Deidre went to measure out rice while Terri reached over to lower the heat under the pot. She found herself turning the heat ON instead; in her distraction, Deidre had forgotten to do so. But then, why did it boil in the first place? Terri considered the possibilities...and found herself troubled by the answers.

"I'm sure it was just a coincidence," Terri said, but didn't feel nearly as sure as she sounded. Latecomers to magic were extremely rare, but not totally unheard of. Was Deidre a latecomer? Or...was their blood oath to blame? Could my blood in her veins be causing this? Terri wondered.

Deidre's eager talk about their upcoming trip soon distracted both of them. "We've got to see the Victoria and Albert museum," Deidre said enthusiastically as they sat down to dinner. "They have the most wonderful costume collection."

"And don't forget Big Ben and the Tower of London," said Terri, spooning some rice onto her plate.

"We should make a list!" Deidre popped up to get pen and paper.

"Speaking of things not to forget," Terri called, "we'll have to board the cats." She frowned. "Or...hmmm. Do we know anyone who can take care of them for us?"

"I'll check at the store tomorrow," Deidre replied, returning to the table. She noted it down on the paper as an item to do. "Maybe someone at your work would be willing?"

"Maybe." The two friends ate in silence for a bit.

Deidre perked up. "I hope we can at least fit in some window shopping. London's renowned for it, you know."

Terri nearly snorted her rice. "Oh, that it is."

Deidre gave her a look. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing." She wondered how easily she'd be able to locate Diagon Alley. Gavin Bones had told her all about it, of course; he couldn't help making comparisons when he took her to Thisa Way in Boston to get some real wizardly supplies. Diagon Alley had been on her mental must-visit list ever since.

They chatted a bit more about where they wanted to visit, coming up with a list that would require at least three times the amount of time they'd have. As Terri cleared the table, Deidre stood up and said, "I'll mark this on the calendar so we won't forget."

"As if!" Terri laughed as Deidre walked over to the hanging calendar. On one of her "get organized" kicks a few months ago, Deidre had insisted they write down any appointments or plans they had on the wall calendar. Terri had to admit, the notes had prevented more than one conflict already.

Next to the calendar hung a mechanical pencil tied with bright red yarn. Deidre reached for the pencil with her right hand while raising the page from June to July with her left. "Oh darn!" she said.

"What's wrong?"

"We're going to have to break our double date with Rob and Leo."

"Oh, I'm so heartbroken," Terri said in a voice that utterly failed to match the words.

"Er, well, I suppose we can reschedule," Deidre said.

"Don't bother."

Deidre glared at Terri. "You agreed to this last month; are you getting cold feet now?"

"Oh, I don't know that I'd call it cold feet, exactly," said Terri. "I'd call it extreme skepticism."

Deidre rolled her eyes. "Leo is very nice! He's a college graduate; he--"

"That's what you said about the last blind date you matched me up with," Terri interrupted. She'd finished clearing the kitchen table by now, and stoppered the sink. She began running hot water and squirted in some dishwashing liquid. "And he was interested in only one thing--"

"He was a perfect gentlemen!" Deidre protested.

"--Beer."

Deidre sighed. "Well, okay, I'll admit he was a little obsessed--"

"A little obsessed?" Terri demanded. "He wouldn't talk about anything else!" She turned off the water, grabbed a sponge, and got to work.

Deidre sighed. "I promise, Leo doesn't run a microbrewery." Terri snorted. "And he's just the type you like: tall, hefty, long hair, bearded..."

"Oh Goddess, Deidre, there's a lot more to a man than looks!" Terri exclaimed. She was frankly becoming a bit uncomfortable. Yes, it was true, when it came to men, she did NOT like the blond, tanned, muscular, handsome types; one of those had broken her heart in high school, and in such a mean way that she'd never quite gotten over it. And yes, it was true, she had a fondness for the type of men her crowd liked to call "teddy bears": large, bearded, hairy, cuddly, sweethearts. But it was personality that made the teddy bear man just as much as (if not more than) looks--and so far Deidre's unsolicited and unwelcome search for a teddy bear for Terri had turned up all sorts of other animals that Terri wished would get stuffed.

At Deidre's hurt look, Terri sighed. "Please, let's just think about that after the interview, okay? I mean, if it actually works out, I won't even be in the country for quite some time..." she trailed off. Not in the country. For quite some time. She felt as if a hand had just grabbed her heart and squeezed. I've never been anywhere out of the US except for Canada, and that was just for a weekend, that hardly counts, she thought. And if I get my project approved, I'll be gone for months! She'd known this intellectually, of course, but now...Am I nuts?!

Her feelings must have shown on her face. "Oh, Terri..." Deidre came over and hugged her, and Terri hugged back, wet hands and all. "You're right, you have enough to think about. I'm sorry."

The next several days bore out Deidre's sentiment that Terri had more than enough to think about. Arrangements were made for the cats, and plans for places to visit while in the UK were solidified. Terri asked for--and received--July 2nd and 3rd off from work. This meant, of course, that she'd have to be well on top of her workload, which was bound to be fun with her group still short one person, and likely to remain so. She also reviewed the information she'd submitted about her project at least twice. In a fit of panic, she contacted Gavin Bones, who had managed to secure a teaching position at Salem after he'd finished tutoring Terri.

"Help! I have an interview for a wizardly post at Hogwarts..."

"You do? Congratulations!" Gavin exclaimed from her fireplace in the living room. "They're the best wizard school, you know, the very best--"

"I know," Terri cut in hastily. "What I don't know is what to expect. I've never interviewed for that kind of thing before!"

Gavin's lips quirked up. He stroked his neatly-trimmed goatee. "The last time I saw you like this was just before you took the comprehensive," he reflected. "Remember?"

How could she forget? She was only 17 when she took it, three months away from her Muggle graduation. She had to pass, or she would not be allowed to practice magic. More than that, she had to score very high, or she would not be allowed to continue studying magic--and Gavin had already mentioned several wizards able to help her with advanced studies that he wanted her to meet. The comprehensive was just that--a three-hour comprehensive test of everything she knew about magic. It included a practical or "lab" section, of course, where she had to demonstrate her ability. She'd nearly fainted when she found out that the sans wand practice she'd been doing, which Gavin began teaching her almost as an afterthought--"But very useful if you ever get caught without a wand"--would be on the test. It was newly added...and she'd have to do at least five spells sans wand, or she wouldn't pass.

"I was a nervous wreck," Terri admitted.

"And scored 750 out of 800," Gavin pointed out. He grinned. "I think, my dear, you'll find that interviews are one area in which there is not much difference between the Muggle and wizard worlds. Now, tell me, what is this interview for?" Terri explained her project, and Professor Dumbledore's replies about teaching being involved in his counteroffer. Gavin frowned. "If he offers you Defense Against the Dark Arts, turn it down," he said.

"Why?"

"Erm, well, Hogwarts hasn't had a lot of luck with their DADA teachers; none have lasted more than a year for at least the past few years," Gavin explained.

Oh, wonderful, Terri thought.

"But really, you needn't be worried," Gavin continued hastily. "Professor Dumbledore would have to be a fool to reject you and your work--and Dumbledore is NOT a fool. A little...eccentric, so I've heard, but the very best wizards often are."

Terri knew Gavin had a gift for judicious understatement; somehow, Professor Dumbledore's "eccentricity" did not feel very encouraging. "Thank you," she said weakly.

Gavin's brows knit together, and he frowned. "Come to think of it...hmm, I wonder..."

"What?" Terri wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

Gavin seemed to pull himself back to the present. "Oh? Mmmm, sorry. It's just that I've heard some...well, frankly, disturbing rumors out of that area lately..."

"What sort of rumors?" Terri pressed. If she was going into a lion's den, she wanted to know as much as possible.

"Nothing I can really put a finger on--well, nothing I credit as even possible that I can put a finger on..." Gavin's face cleared. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. If they're false, well, all to the good; and if they're true..." He paused. "Ah, if they're true, then it's all the more incentive for Professor Dumbledore to have you work on your curse protection project at his school. I think I see what he's getting at." At her concerned look, Gavin continued, "So, you see? Nothing to worry about. Just be your usual superb self, wear a spiffy interviewing robe, and you'll do just fine." With another smile, his head vanished from the flames in her fireplace.

"Wait!" she cried. "Where am I going to get a spiffy interviewing robe?!"

It was a legitimate question. When she and Deidre were in college, robes were not required for circles in the pagan group they joined. Some students, like Deidre, appreciated the idea of ceremonial robes, and made their own, while others, like Terri, either did without or borrowed. She did go to circles with other groups of Wiccans after college from time to time; many were pretty relaxed about clothing, and saw one's attitude in the circle as more important. At two circles, she'd even been skyclad--not exactly appropriate attire for the kind of interview she expected. Be that as it may, Terri didn't own a robe, other than a bathrobe, which certainly wasn't spiffy enough for wearing to an interview.

But Deidre came to the rescue. The two friends put their heads (and closets) together. After going through and rejecting several robes and robe-like garments, Terri finally settled on a blue-gray number which Deidre had made early on and "outgrew."

"The color never quite worked for me anyway," Deidre conceded.

Terri looked down at the robe, and into the mirror attached to Deidre's bureau. The velour fabric draped nicely, yet fit loosely enough not to reveal too much. It must have stretched with the hanging; Deidre stood half a head shorter than her, yet the robe came neatly to her ankles. The full-length sleeves needed shortening, however; and Terri rejected the belt of matching fabric that came with the robe in favor of one of her own, of white leather. She figured it would be strong enough to hang her wand from.

"You look great!" Deidre exclaimed after the appropriate modifications had been made. Terri wasn't so sure.

"Red hair, freckles, and a hand-me-down robe--" she sighed. How could Dumbledore possibly take her seriously?

The time until the interview flew by. The cats were boarded after all, bags were packed (Terri insisted on both of them keeping it to one rolling suitcase and one tote bag each), and all that remained was to wait for the Portkey. Finally, when Terri came home from work on the 29th, a feathered visitor showed up--but this time, it was a pigeon.

"I wonder why the change in birds," Deidre said as Terri removed the message from its leg.

"Don't know, but I'm glad," Terri replied absently. The bird flew back out through the open sliding glass door; apparently, no reply was expected.

"Why?"

Terri glanced over at Deidre, who was now sitting on the couch across from the comfy chair. Without yet opening the note, she joined her. "For one thing, nobody notices pigeons," she explained. "After Salem--and some other witch hunts--wizards put a lot of stock in blending in." She snorted, remembering Gavin. "The English are traditionalists, though...most of them, anyway." She smiled at a memory on a Florida beach...

"So do all American witches use pigeons?" Deidre asked.

"Oh, not by a long shot," Terri answered, now gesturing with the still-unopened letter for emphasis. "In Chicago, they use parrots; there's a wild parrot population there, did you know that?"

"Cool! What about Alaska? They don't have pigeons there, do they?"

"No, they use penguins."

Deidre's eyes widened. "No way! Penguins are Antarctic critters; they don't live in Alaska."

"Exactly." At Deidre's puzzled expression, Terri said, "If you lived in Alaska, and saw a flying penguin, you'd figure you were hallucinating, wouldn't you?"

Deidre laughed. "Okay, I guess that makes a kind of twisted sense." She looked thoughtful. "And what do they use in Florida? Or are there any wizards there?"

"Oh, they're just about everywhere." Terri smiled again as the memory returned. A tall, dark-haired man...

"Gee, did you meet any last summer?" asked Deidre.

They had vacationed in Florida that summer--off-season made so many things cheaper. Deidre visited her parents, so Terri was able to spend part of the time by herself, exploring the beaches early in the morning before the heat of the day. And she'd met him there...a wizard, no doubt about it, but shy, and apparently recovering from some kind of downturn in his fortune. He looked like he was going to run away from her, in fact; even now, she wasn't quite sure what she'd said that calmed him down. Maybe it was reassuring him that she was like him--"Okay, so maybe my wand's collecting cobwebs and I don't read the `Daily Prophet,' but I still know my Alohomora!"--because right after she'd said that, he calmed down. They talked for hours, and even met on the beach two more times before she left Florida.

But in all the time since then, he hadn't written her. He'd said they shouldn't be in contact; it was as if he feared some sort of contagion would spread to her if they stayed in touch, or that she might get in trouble with the Ministry of Magic or some such. Figures, I finally find a nice guy... Terri thought. What excuses. He's probably gay. Or, just my luck, a serial killer.

A nudge from Deidre brought her back to the present. "You did meet a wizard, didn't you?" she said.

"Oh, once or twice," Terri said airily. "He was using a flamingo."

"A flamingo!? Wouldn't that be rather obvious?"

Terri gave a dismissive wave with the note from the pigeon. "Of course not. Haven't you ever noticed all the flamingo lawn ornaments down there?"

She looked down at the note, which she'd half-forgotten until now. Opening it, she read:

Dear Terri Weasley,

As you may have gathered from the change in delivery, there has been a change in the situation here. It will not change the interview schedule, however. Your Portkey will be delivered through your fireplace; please be waiting at 9 PM on June 29th your time to receive it. Again, I look forward to seeing you.

Most sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore

"What's that mean, `Your Portkey will be delivered through your fireplace?'" Deidre asked.

"It means exactly what it says," said Terri.

Deidre grimaced. "Yeah, okay, but how is it going to be delivered through the fireplace?!"

Terri shrugged. "I can think of several ways," she said. "Let's just take it at face value and make sure we're here at 9 PM tonight, okay?" She was frankly curious herself, though. Would she actually get to meet Albus Dumbledore, or one of the other teachers from Hogwarts? Or would he send some other agent, like a house-elf? And what exactly had changed to cause Professor Dumbledore to switch to pigeons?

The two friends ate and cleared dinner, then found several ways to amuse themselves before the appointed time. They started out by "catfishing," and switched to board games after the cats got bored of chasing the feathers attached to string. They'd gone throught Scrabble (tm) (Deidre won, but barely), backgammon (Terri won four out of seven, but the last one was close), and Othello (tm) (messed up by the cats walking on it), and were considering the card game Fluxx (tm) (which wasn't quite as much fun with just two people) when the fireplace lit up by itself. Deidre gasped. Terri looked surprised as well; she wasn't expecting to see a familiar face.

"Gavin!" Terri exclaimed.

"'Ero," said Gavin. He was having some difficulty speaking, as he had a badly chipped porcelain saucer in his mouth. "Dith if 'or 'orke."

"What? Oh!" Suddenly understanding, Terri grabbed the fireplace tongs and carefully removed the saucer from his mouth.

"Thank you," said Gavin, with as much dignity as he could manage. He glanced over at Deidre. "Hello, I don't believe we've met."

Terri performed introductions while Deidre finished recovering her composure. "I'm sorry," Deidre gasped out, "it's just that I've never seen this before."

"Eh? Oh, quite understandable," said Gavin drily. His brown eyes took in both women as he continued. "Now that Portkey has been set for 9 AM the second of July our time, 2 PM the second of July Dumbledore's time. So you'll still spend this weekend here in the States." He looked as if he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure he should--and Terri noticed that he looked unusually pale, even by New England standards.

"Anything else?" Terri prodded.

"What? Oh." Gavin hesitated, then sighed. "I wish I could tell you--but Dumbledore said he wanted to fill you in personally. And he asked that...well, suffice it to say, I'm going to be very busy over here." He paused, as if weighing an idea, then nodded to himself. "Terri...if--no, WHEN, rather--Professor Dumbledore and you work matters out, and you're at Hogwarts...I have a favor I'd like to ask of you."

Terri laughed. "My, you're awfully confident about me!"

Gavin raised his eyebrows at her. "And has it ever been displaced?"

Terri responded with one word. "Divination."

"Oh, that!" He rolled his eyes. "I never could get the hang of that myself." He turned serious again, and seemed to turn slightly paler. "I rather wish I had...though, with what may be coming, I'm not sure I'd want to see the future..."

"Gavin--what are you talking about?" Her old teacher used to get a bit distracted from time to time; it seemed to be his way of living up to the absent-minded professor stereotype. But this was beyond what that had been.

Gavin shook his head. "I can't tell you that, but Professor Dumbledore will soon enough. Meanwhile..." He took a deep breath. "I've told you about my niece--"

"Susan Bones," Terri said automatically. She was his brother's daughter, and Gavin mentioned her regularly. "She's a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, right?"

"And going into her fifth year," Gavin added. Again, he seemed reluctant to continue. "Would you--just watch to make sure she stays out of trouble? Please? And tell her--tell her her Uncle Gavin loves her even though he can't always write that often?"

Terri had never seen Gavin's eyes look so pleading before. "I can try," she said, reluctant to make any promises. After all, she'd only be able to do that if she and her project were accepted at Hogwarts, and she hadn't had the interview yet! And Gavin's demeanor really worried her. "But Gavin--please, can't you at least give me a clue what's going on? I can tell you're upset--"

"No, I can't." He looked a little ashamed. "But--you should be safe there. And Susan too, come to that; it's just that, being so far away from her..." he trailed off. Then he met Terri's eyes, and forced his face into a more pleasant expression. "Never mind; just consider these the concerns of an overprotective uncle. Do give Professor Dumbledore my humble regards, and let him know I was glad to do this little service for him, would you please?"

"Of course." Terri knew she would get nothing out of him.

"Thank you. And good luck to you!" With a nod each to Deidre and Terri, he was gone.

"Goddess, what do you suppose he was worried about?" asked Deidre.

"I wish I knew," said Terri. She lifted Claire's paw from on top of the Portkey and took it off the floor. "We'd better put this somewhere the cats can't get it and we can't forget it."

They ended up placing it in a plastic baggie, punching a small hole in the baggie, threading some bright yarn through the hole, and hanging it from the chandelier over the kitchen table. The cats weren't allowed on top of the table, so they (in theory) couldn't reach the saucer. Placing it on top of the table itself would have been simpler, but Deidre was convinced she'd accidently cover it with mail or put it through the dishwasher or something of the sort. Indeed, she seemed more nervous about this part of their trip than Terri.

Of course, Terri had traveled by Portkey before; Gavin had taken her to several American wizards' gatherings. He said at the time that he wanted her to know about the community. So even though it had been just over a year since the last time she traveled by Portkey, she was less worried about it than Deidre...which left her mind free to worry about other things. Such as what Gavin was so worried about, for instance.

The last time she'd seen Gavin so pale was when he told her about why he'd moved to America. Voldemort had wiped out most of his family, including his fiancee; only he and his brother were left. They went into hiding, and stayed up all night discussing their options. Finally, they agreed that one of them would go to the US, while the other stayed in the UK. "It was to continue the family line, you see," he'd said quietly. "We thought that this way, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or his Death Eaters got to one of us, since we'd be so far separated, one would still be alive..." He'd smiled then. "We were lucky, though; both of us lived. There were many who weren't so lucky."

But Voldemort was gone; he was defeated by Harry Potter, the boy who lived, right around the time Terri came into her own magic. What could possibly be as frightening as the Dark Mage himself?

Even with these thoughts to ponder, the weekend flew by. Terri made sure she'd packed everything: toiletries, comfortable clothes, her diary, a couple of books, a pen and a small notebook in case she needed to take notes at the interview, and a small "circle casting" kit: her athame, some incense, an incense burner, a feather, a rock, a cup (for holding water), a candle, and two figurines--one of Father Winter, the other of Mother Summer. They all fit in a black velvet bag about the size of a decorative couch pillow, which would also serve as the "altar." She smiled at the thought that she wouldn't have to worry about getting her athame through customs.

Deidre had a harder time deciding what to take. "You know me, I'm never happy unless I've got something to do with my hands," she said a bit irritably. But even she finally settled down, filling her tote bag with her sewing kit and a dragon embroidery she'd started in May. To Terri's eyes, it looked like a fairly accurate representation of a Common Welsh Green; seeing that Deidre was embroidering from a kit, on stamped canvas, Terri wondered if some witches didn't make a living on the side creating kits.

The big day finally came. Both women woke up before 7:30 AM, showered quickly, and dressed. Deidre decided to wear a comfortable but nice-looking caftan, while Terri put on some Muggle clothes, then grabbed her belt, wand bag, and borrowed robe. She'd decided not to dress fully until after breakfast, not wanting to get the clothing messy. She forced down some cereal and fruit, and washed it down with some milk. As she'd expected, the butterflies in her stomach were playing Quiddich. Deidre didn't seem to be able to decide whether to be nervous or just plain excited.

"Eight forty-five," Terri murmured, looking at her watch as Deidre cleared the table. "I'd better get dressed." Carefully, almost reverently, she got up and slipped the blue-gray robe over her head. Then came the belt, and finally, the wand bag, carrying her wand. It hung low on the belt. She couldn't quite decide which side to wear it on, but finally settled on her left, near her hip; if she needed it, she'd cross-draw it, like a sword.

Deidre came out of the kitchen, looked admiringly at her friend, and smiled. "You certainly look the part of a witch to me," she said.

"Thanks," said Terri distractedly. Looking's only the smallest part of the battle, she thought. And what would Albus Dumbledore look like?

They grabbed their suitcases and tote bags, and got the saucer down from the chandelier. At five minutes to nine, they stood in the middle of the living room, holding the Portkey between the two of them.

Deidre frowned, and fidgeted. "I feel ridiculous," she said. "What if it doesn't work?"

"It will," Terri insisted. But she, too, felt a bit fidgetty. Still, she'd wanted to allow this much time in case whoever set the Portkey (Gavin, she figured) didn't use a watch that perfectly matched hers as far as the time. The Quiddich-playing butterflies in her stomach were tied at 100 even, and the Snitch had just been spotted, when Terri suddenly felt a sensation she'd nearly forgotten: a strong yank around the area of her navel. Here we go, she thought, and felt herself being pulled....