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Harry Potter and the Paradigm Shift
Chapter 16

By Kinsfire

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The crowd assembled for the award ceremony was huge, so huge there was only one place big enough to fit them all. The old World Cup Quidditch stadium. Anybody who was anybody fought for seats on the field itself, close enough to the podium to see the actual presentation, and the stands were packed with everyone else. Percy Weasley, as the surviving Assistant to the Minister and organizer of the ceremony, was the presenter, and he stood proudly at the podium in his finest dress robes. Listening to Percy drone on and on about the details of a battle he hadn’t been at, Harry found himself wondering if he could get away with just one A-K — a little one — and claim it was justified in the interests of protecting the collective sanity of the audience. Finally Percy got on to the main event. "Today we are here to honour someone who has done the unthinkable — he single-handedly defeated one of the greatest threats to wizard-kind. Thanks to Harry Potter, we are much safer now. It is my extreme pleasure to present to him the Order of Merlin, First Class."

Harry stood and walked over to the podium, where Percy lifted up the gold medal on the purple ribbon that was intended to go around his neck. "I see a bit of a problem, Percy," he said, stopping him from putting the ribbon over his head. "There appears to be only one medal here, and there’s no way in Hell I’m going to stand here and accept an award for something that relied on me accepting help from a slew of other people. How about Neville Longbottom, for killing the man who tried to rise up in Voldemort’s place?"

Seeing Percy’s shiver, he scowled. "He’s a deader, for Merlin’s sake, Percy! I spread him over an acre of ground when I killed him! Riddle is not going to suddenly jump out from behind a shrub and shout ‘Ni!’ just because I mention his name!" He looked out into the audience, and found himself standing behind the podium as if he’d always intended to be there. Percy backed away and stood there trying to figure out just how he’d lost control of the whole thing.

"That’s part of the problem, you know. By doing that with his nom de Dark Lord, you gave him more power. Dumbledore knew that as well, even if he was an evil son of a blasted-end skrewt. Voldemort started life as a man, and ended it as fertilizer. He wasn’t worth fearing, folks." He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. "Ginevra Weasley. Ronald Weasley. Nymphadora Tonks. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. Hermione Granger. Moira Cybelle. Without them, I never would have had the strength to defeat Riddle. Where are their medals? Amelia Bones. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Everyone else named Weasley, except Percy, that is. Severus Snape. Where are their Orders of Merlin, First Class? I may have defeated Voldemort, but while we were still licking our wounds from that fight, we suddenly found ourselves fighting the man who had elected himself Voldemort’s successor, the one man most people could never imagine as Dark Lord — Albus Dumbledore. I pieced it together only days ago, and that’s why this battle happened. But while I was sitting in St. Mungo’s relaxing, those others I mentioned were fighting for their lives against Dumbledore. Shacklebolt. Bones. Tonks. Longbottom. Moody. Granger. Lupin. Black. Cybelle. Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. William Weasley. Charles Weasley. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Ronald Weasley. Ginevra Weasley. Severus Snape. Please note that while this list includes some of our finest Aurors, it also includes people who are scorned and mistrusted by the rest of our community. Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Muggle-born. Death Eater. Convict. That list even includes an American. This was not her fight, but she was right in the thick of it. I didn’t ask them to fight. They just did, because someone had to."

"Without these people, we’d be looking at another Dark Lord in charge. Albus Dumbledore was, if anything, more dangerous than Voldemort, because he could make you believe he had your best interests at heart, all the while controlling and manipulating you to follow his aims and goals, not your own. He could tell you what you wanted to hear and keep you smiling all the time he was isolating you and limiting everything you did. Under his rule there would have been no random deaths, no Dark Marks, but a level of control and draconian law unprecedented in Britain, all for the good of the people, of course. I’m sorry. I realize that this," and he gestured at the medal Percy still clutched, "is the highest honour that can be given in our world, and I really appreciate it, but my conscience simply will not permit me to accept it unless I’m accepting it with the people who really did the job. I only fought someone we all knew was evil. I had no choice. Destiny ordered it, and I was just along for the ride. But these people … they chose to be part of this battle. They could have been elsewhere that day. But they chose this fight. Some of them were fighting it before I was ever born. After Voldemort was down, they kept fighting. And they did something harder than fighting an obvious villain. They fought someone they’ve trusted their entire lives. If I deserve the Order at all, it should be Second Class, compared to those people."

He looked out over the audience. "I know you were hoping to see an award given today, but I can’t take credit for something that everyone else worked on. Those people I named are the true heroes of this day." He shrugged sadly and headed back for his seat. He stopped as he heard a single person begin to applaud, and he spun in time to be extremely surprised by who it was. Pansy Parkinson was alone in the crowd, on her feet, applauding. She met his eyes and nodded with a smile, and he nodded in return as he continued his way off the stage. The ovation continued as more people joined Pansy, and soon the entire crowd was on its feet, the thunderous applause staggering Percy Weasley, who was still standing there gaping like a gaffed fish.

#####

Many more Orders of Merlin were awarded.

#####

"I won’t accept the nomination," Amelia Bones said to the Wizengamot. "I don’t want the job, first because it would take me away from my preferred position, and second because I’m too set in the old ways. We need to change. It’ll be my niece and her generation, and their children who will turn this world on its ear. They look up to Harry. Let’s give him a chance to run the wizarding world for a while."

#####

"I’ve been nominated for what?!?" he asked in shock.

"Well, there were only three candidates suggested, and Amelia Bones doesn’t want the job," Tonks said. "So that leaves it to you and the boy who still has never apologised to his family."

"You mean that if I choose not to run, Stick-up-his-arse Percy runs the Ministry?" Harry closed his eyes as she nodded. "Gah. I have to run, then. We’ll be worse off if Percy wins."

#####

Harry’s first official act as Minister was to have Dolores Umbridge arrested for using a Blood Quill on him and several other students during his fifth year. She was sent off to Azkaban for a nice five-year visit and Harry promptly forgot about her. A mistake, as it happened.

Harry’s second official act was to lift the lifetime ban on his playing Quidditch that was still in place, not because of any actual desire to play professional Quidditch, but because of the principal of the thing.

Official nepotism had always been an accepted part of Wizarding politics, so nobody was surprised when Harry started placing friends and family members in influential positions. If some were surprised by how well they did their jobs, well, they just didn’t know the people involved well enough. All of Harry’s friends and family members who were given positions of authority within the Ministry were instructed to tell him whenever he was being an arse, publicly if need be. This lead to some highly entertaining rows during Cabinet meetings.

Ginny enjoyed telling Percy that her job title was Chief Concubine, and that her position was usually bent over a desk.

Tonks was vastly surprised to find out that her resignation letter had somehow "disappeared" and never been processed, and that she had therefore been collecting her Auror’s salary, including a raise for a promotion, for four years. She also received a commendation and bonus for "independent action while on an extended undercover assignment." Some might have complained about her appointment to the Minister for Magic’s security team, but, she argued, how better to protect him than from his own bed? Even the nay-sayers had to admit she had a point. (And the three children she bore him over the years proved that she was very serious about the job.)

Arthur Weasley became the head of the newly formed Muggle Relations Department, and was happier than a kneazle in a catnip patch.

Percy was demoted to a field agent in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. "Maybe when you understand what it’s like out there, you can be of greater use to the Ministry," Harry told him. "But for now, I don’t need yes men. I have ideas, but I need people to tell me when they won’t work, not to eternally agree with me. You need to learn to admit when you're wrong. You were wrong about me back in my fifth year, and basically cut off ties with your family because of it. They'll accept you back, but you'll have to prove yourself to them."

Sirius applied for (and got) one of the few Ministry jobs Harry’s approval wasn’t enough to get him — he became an Unspeakable, an agent for the Department of Mysteries. He would neither confirm nor deny the rumour that every so often he’d go down into the Death Chamber and spit through the Veil.

Harry made sure that Rubeus Hagrid received an acquittal for the crime Tom Riddle had framed him for all those years ago, personally bought a new wand for him, and arranged for him to get tutoring where he needed it to make up for his interrupted education.

Ron had pretty much decided that he was not going to become an Auror after all, so he tried out for and got a slot as reserve Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. He was never quite sure if he got it on his own merit, or because he was The Best Friend of The Boy Who Lived, and finally began to understand what Harry had been trying to tell him all those years.

Bill broke up with Fleur over her unreasonable jealousy of him, and returned to Egypt and the curse-breaking work he had been happiest with. Charlie went back to Romania and his beloved dragons. Fred and George continued making money hand over fist.

Harry set up a lot of commissions to improve life for the various magical races that coexisted with humanity. He set up proper goblin representation, to the chagrin of many in the pureblood community. He created a commission to properly deal with werewolves, setting Remus Lupin in charge of that, and staffing it almost entirely with werewolves, with enough humans to curb the tendency toward vindictiveness that he knew would undoubtedly arise.

He didn’t act for total liberalization of non-human relations, however. He ordered a study of house elves, and learned some of the reason for their enslavement. Hermione went white when he gave her the study results to read, and immediately destroyed all her S.P.E.W. badges and information. She had not been prepared to learn of the massacre of wizards at the hands of the elves, who had once been an off-shoot of the goblins. The elves had actually attempted a genocide of humankind, Muggle and wizard alike, and it was only the enslavement spell that had kept wizards alive. The elves were the reason that the wizarding community was so low in population throughout Europe. Attempts to free singular elves had caused them to revert to their ancient warlike ways. Elves such as Dobby were mutants within the house elf community. This was not to say that Harry was willing to allow them to be treated as dirt — he wanted to see how much freedom that they could be given without completely freeing them from the enslavement spells.

The centaurs spent ten years watching what Harry was doing before opening proper relations with the wizarding world, based on his efforts to do real good for the non-human races. Finally, the Centaur Liaison Office was more than a joke and dead-end job.

#####

It wasn’t all business, of course.

As it turned out, there had never actually been an official Ministry ruling on what constituted a marriage. The Wizarding community had more or less just gone along with the prevailing Muggle attitudes (although they had retained the custom of legal concubinage far longer). So Harry didn’t have to abuse his power by pushing through a law on group marriages. He just did it, cheerfully and publicly starting the Potter Family, doing what he felt like and daring anybody to say anything about it. The precedent set, Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina and Katie promptly took advantage of it.

The establishment of the Potter and Weasley Families seemed to be the trigger for a massive upswing in the number of marriages among the young wizards and witches who had spent virtually their entire lives in terror of Voldemort. The number of marriages caused a predictable increase in the number of babies born shortly thereafter, and Hogwarts was soon renovating abandoned classrooms and increasing the teaching staff.

Hannah Abbott and Luna Lovegood set the precedent for witches marrying each other, Hannah’s practicality offsetting Luna’s more unusual view of the universe. Then the two of them pounced on Neville Longbottom and dragged him kicking and screaming (but not very hard) to the altar.

The union of Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, and the Quidditch coach, Xiomara Hooch, was a nine days’ wonder; the revelation that Madame Pomfrey and Filius Flitwick had already been married for twenty years didn’t even get nine minutes’ discussion. Rumour had it that Sybil Trelawney accosted Severus Snape in the halls and announced that the stars said she would marry someone "tall, dark, and gruesome". Rumour further had it that Snape had fled in terror at the prospect.

Surprisingly, Crabbe and Goyle surfaced just long enough to get married, as well. Neither one of them, it seemed, was as stupid as they seemed in school, and they had "vanished" into the Muggle world as soon as possible after leaving Hogwarts. They ran a bed and breakfast in Brighton and were very happy together.

#####

Harry was deep in negotiations with the American Secretary of Magic, attempting to undo the damage that a generation of isolationism and arrogance had done in international relations, when the call came into his office that Ginny and Moira had gone into labour within half an hour of each other. He’d made hasty apologies and Flooed home, with the approval of the Secretary, who was glad to see he had his priorities straight.

There he’d spent the next six hours trying to calm down Arthur, Sirius, and Remus, all of whom were nervously pacing the floors, walls, and ceilings (due to something Fred and George had slipped into their drinks), and avoiding being punched by Ron, who had a somewhat belated attack of brotherly concern about what Harry had done to his baby sister about the time the first yell came echoing down the stairs.

"Harry," said Hermione on one of her periodic trips through the parlour where the men had gathered, "You are taking all of this far too calmly. I thought fathers-to-be were supposed to panic or something. It’s in the handbook, I’m sure."

He grinned. "You know I never read the books, Hermione," he said. "That’s why I have you. And the rest of these clowns are doing more than enough panicking. In any event, there’s nothing I can do unless something decides to attack. Then I’ll kill it. The rest of it is up to you ladies. Just let me know when it’s time for me to go in there and have Ginny threaten my life if I ever come near her again, all right?"

But for all his aplomb, Harry’s knees went weak when he was introduced to Liliane Elspeth Potter and James Orion Potter, the latter with hair quite as red as his mother’s and sticking out in as many directions as his father’s.

#####

The Ministry was completely modernized, as Harry pulled all the offices except the Department of Mysteries out of the ground and put it into a high-rise. "The Ministry has been hiding underground like the ostrich buries its head in the sand," he told the Wizengamot while campaigning for the funding necessary. "We need to be able to see the world that we’re affecting, damn it!" He’d had a long talk with Hermione afterwards about the misuse of the ostrich in his comments, since the bird didn’t actually do that, she’d told him, but he won when that same speech caused an overwhelming vote to follow through on his plan. His apology for being right led to their daughter Melissa.

#####

Percy unbent enough to apologize to his family after being in the field dealing with killer teapots and enchanted pennywhistles for a year or so, married Penelope Clearwater and started his own family. All of his sons turned out like Fred and George, much to his disgust.

#####

At some point, Harry realized that what Tonks had told him all those years ago was true, that if you had hands and a tongue, anything else was gravy. He discovered this when he looked down during one of the regular Potter family ‘parties’ and discovered that the redhead doing marvellous things to him was not Ginny. He gave in to the inevitable as gracefully as possible. For his part, Ron discovered that he could indeed function with women under some circumstances, and Hermione made sure that her second child was his.

#####

As a favour to the Norton Institute, Harry agreed to make an appearance at a general assembly and also do presentations as a "Guest Lecturer" in several classes. Moira came with him and was set to do several Guest Lecturer slots herself. The Institute hadn’t changed much in the years Harry and Moira had been gone. The halls still connected oddly. Students still dressed in an amazingly eclectic conglomeration of styles (and, Harry thought resignedly, "ugly" was still in fashion). And Aloysius Davis was still the Defence teacher.

One thing had changed, however. Harry had never really understood the lack of ghostly personnel at the school, although Moira said there were theoretical reasons for it. Spiritual theory had never been Harry’s strong point, so he just accepted it. Shortly after their arrival, while they were visiting with Lissa Raines before the assembly, a tall, thin, spectral man in Victorian formal dress walked through the closed door. He stood in front of Harry and looked him over closely, then lifted his top hat and gave a formal bow. Harry stood and bowed in return. The man smiled slightly, nodded graciously at the ladies present, and turned to go out through the door again.

Harry looked at Lissa quizzically. "Well, Harry, I think you have just gained the approval of the Emperor. He rarely shows that much respect for anyone," she said.

"Emperor … Norton? What’s he doing here? I thought you didn’t have ghosts."

"We do now. They started showing up a little while after you left. Apparently the rift that was opened to rescue Sirius never sealed completely, and a few ghosts decided to join us. The Emperor was the first. He never says anything, just pops in to, I guess, supervise classes from time to time. We also have a Miss Victoria Beamish, who died during the Quake of ’06 and is now teaching Deportment for Young Ladies, Don Francisco Santoya Ruiz, who dates from the Spanish colonial period, and a young man in a motorcycle jacket who haunts the girls’ locker rooms and won’t give us his name."

"No little Chinese man who says ‘Dorf’?"

"No, we haven’t seen a trace of him. And we’ve been watching. We have seen a number of other spirits passing through, although they don’t stay. Some of them have taken up residence in the area, so soon we may develop as much of a reputation as, say, Savannah, Georgia, for our ghostly population."

"Well, if you do see the Chinese fellow, thank him for us, will you? We owe him a tremendous debt."

"Of course I will. In the meantime, we’ve arranged a staff luncheon before your afternoon presentation. Many of our teachers are looking forward to meeting you for the first time."

"You didn’t tell them?"

"That would ruin the surprise," she said, her lips quirking upwards. "Remember, you were wearing a glamour through all the time you were here — subtle, but enough that they don’t recognize the British Minister as the boy who graduated seven years ago."

Harry smiled slowly as he thought it through. "That means Davis …"

"Right. He’s been in seventh heaven since we announced you were coming, though. Going on and on about how wonderful it will be to finally meet his hero, the Defence genius, so forth and so on. I think he had some ideas on how to prevent Dark Lords from happening in the first place he wanted to discuss with you. Something about validation of children’s feelings and self-actualization. Or was it self-empowerment? I stopped listening a short way in."

"Self-empowerment? Davis? He’s the last person I’d expect to be talking about anybody’s empowerment except his own," said Harry. "Well, let’s go and get this over with. We’ll spring your little surprise and then hopefully I’ll never have to deal with the man again."

Lissa escorted them to the staff lounge, which had been done up for a formal luncheon, with snowy linens covering the scuffed old tables. The senior members of the staff had gathered to await their illustrious guest. Most of them had the grace not to rush Harry as soon as he came in the door, but not Davis. The Defence teacher practically jumped to greet him, grabbing his hand and shaking it hard. "Minister Potter, I can’t tell you how pleased I am … we all are … to be meeting you at last!"

"Ah, thank you," said Harry, faintly. "And you are?"

"Aloysius Davis, Defence Master for the Norton Institute, at your service."

"At my service? Then would you mind releasing my hand, Mr. Davis? Thank you very much. Yes, now I remember you clearly. You’ve changed some since the last time I was here."

"The last time … surely not, I’d recall …"

"Oh, well, that was before the Final Battle and all, you see. I was travelling incognito. A good disguise being part of Defence, you know."

"Oh, yes, obviously. It must have been an excellent disguise indeed if I didn’t see through it. A total change from your true appearance, I dare say."

"Actually, no. Sometimes the more minor changes are the most effective. I used some Mundane makeup to cover this," he said, touching the now-faded scar on his forehead, "and then just lightened my hair from black to brown, so," and his hair obligingly changed color, "changed my eyes from green to blue," and his eyes shifted to a clear blue, "and a few changes to my jawline, and voila!" Daniel Radcliffe stood before them, grinning merrily at Davis, whose normally florid skin was turning rather pasty-looking.

The luncheon passed more cheerfully than such things usually did, now that the teachers knew that the nice young British boy they’d taught years before was really Harry Potter. Some of them even slipped and called him "Dan" during the luncheon. Davis sat as far as he could from Harry and remained resolutely silent, a welcome change from his normal behaviour. Harry’s speech and question and answer period went over well, the students being as enthusiastic, intelligent and irreverent as Harry remembered. But the best part, the absolute best part, was that he had been scheduled for a "mock duel" with Davis. When that part of the program arrived, the older man stalked out on the stage clad in a formal duelling robe similar to the one Snape had worn all those years before at Hogwarts.

"Minister Potter has graciously consented to a display of basic combat techniques in the form of a duel," he announced, his voice cold. In the period between luncheon and now, his humiliation had been replaced with anger. In his mind, "Dan Radcliffe" was an arrogant little twerp who needed to be put in his place, but Harry Potter was the greatest Defence Master living. If the two were one, one of those images had to go. Somehow Davis had chosen the wrong one. He obviously intended to show that Potter wasn’t as good as everyone (including himself up to a few hours before) said he was.

"As you are all aware, of course," Harry said, "a true fight is very different from the ritualized format of a duel. The first rule of fighting is to win, using whatever advantages you have to end the fight quickly. In this case, however, I’ll be giving up my staff," and he tossed it to Moira, "because it is an unfair advantage in a duel, given that I can fire spells out of both ends of it, it has a much greater power amplification effect than a wand, and it extends my reach by six feet. It also doubles as a Mundane weapon, and there’s no wizard so powerful that a good whack on the head won’t seriously inconvenience him." My predecessor in office being a case in point, he thought grimly as he drew his wand from its pocket in his sleeve and then removed his outer robe. He would have much more freedom of movement in trousers and shirt. "Shall we, Mr. Davis?"

They performed the bow and salute, and faced off. There was a moment of absolute stillness as each waited for the other to make a move. This was possibly the most important phase of the duel, as the wizards fought for the psychological advantage. Davis cracked first, shouting "Expelliarmus!" and whipping his wand through the air in the classical disarming move. But by the time the spell hit, Harry had simply shifted his wand to his other hand. The spell missed. Davis spat out the incantation for a full body bind, and Harry shielded against it. Davis tossed spell after spell, and Harry effortlessly countered them all, although he had yet to throw an offensive spell of his own. Instead, he continued his lecture, pausing only to block, counter, and duck Davis’ attacks.

"As you may have noticed," *duck* "I’m not actually doing any attacking here." *block* "All I’m doing is defending. I could keep this up all day," *counter* "but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. That’s why the emphasis" *counter* "in most Defence classes is on protection, but we also learn" *counter*block*counter* "to be as offensive as possible. I won’t go that far," *block*block*block* "because my maximum offence could bring this whole building down around our ears."

"Braggart!" yelled Davis.

"Simple truth," replied Harry. "So instead I’ll take advantage of my opponent’s weakness, but first I have to find it. Sooo… Accio Boggart!" snapped Harry, and a white ball of light popped into existence between the two men. Almost immediately, it shifted form into a great black serpent, baring its fangs at Davis.

The American Defence Master gasped and shifted his attack from Harry to the serpent, although all his spells did was to cause the snake to split into two serpents, then three, then five, then … whey-faced, he backed away from the reptiles as they slithered towards him with sinister malice. "Potter … call them off!" he shouted.

"There’s only one creature there, Davis. A simple boggart. Surely you know how to deal with a boggart, Mr. Davis?"

But it appeared that Davis did not know how to deal with a boggart. Instead he let off a blasting spell that shattered the floor beneath the snakes, dropping them into a crawl space beneath. Down in the darkness, the snakes apparently recombined, for the head of a giant serpent thrust its way up out of the hole, still focused on Davis. "Do you yield, Mr. Davis?" Harry asked, and the panicked man nodded frantically. Harry lazily pointed his wand at the back of the snake’s head. "Riddikulus!" he called out, and the snake spun to face him. Then it turned into a balloon snake which flew around the room as it deflated. The boggart turned back into its ball of light form and then vanished with a pop. Harry repaired the shattered floor and crossed to Davis, holding out his hand. Davis grudgingly shook it, but as Harry turned away, sheer hatred contorted his face.

"You little son of a — Nux vomica!" Davis unleashed the curse at Harry’s back.

"Protego!" Moira’s wand whipped through the sign for the protective shield between Davis and Harry. Harry whirled to catch the staff that was already flying toward him, tossed by his enraged wife. The holly wood shaft slapped into his hand, and in two steps he was on Davis, the end of the staff poking painfully into the man’s throat.

"You do surprise me after all, Davis. I wouldn’t have thought you knew anything out of the vomica series. Cursing a man when his back is turned, that I’d expect of you." He abruptly reversed the staff and used the other end to sweep Davis’ legs out from under him. "Now I’ll strongly suggest that you get off this stage, out of this room, and out of this school, at least as long as I’m here."

Davis got. And union or no, this time the school administration was able to make his dismissal stick — attacking a visiting dignitary trumped tenure, big time.

#####

Liliane and James were not quite nine, and Harry was beginning his second term, when Harry opened the door one day to discover Charlie Watson’s eldest daughter on the doorstep. She had grown from the cute and somewhat sexy ‘Quidditch hottie’ into an astonishing woman, and the other ladies ushered her into the house while Harry stood with his jaw on the ground. He finally followed and discovered that Tara had arrived to petition the ladies for a chance to become one of Harry's wives, thereby causing his jaw to drop again. He made a rapid trip to San Francisco almost immediately.

"Harry! Good to see you again! You're right on time," Charlie said with a grin.

"What do you mean 'right on time'?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Tara called us from outside your home. I figured it would be no more than half an hour before you arrived to find out if I knew about what her plans are."

"My wives make any decisions like that. What's your take on this, Charlie? If this is going to cost me your friendship, then even if my wives tell me it's happening, it won't happen."

Charlie's hand clapped onto Harry shoulder as he looked over to his wife. "Gina, this is exactly why I have no problems with Tara's decision." He looked back to Harry. "We talked about it, and Gina was honestly a little worried — hell, I'm a little weirded on the concept, but it seems to work for you guys — but we decided that Tara's an adult now, so she's free to make her own life decisions. And if there's anyone in this world we can trust not to hurt her intentionally, it's you. I'd be proud to call you my son-in-law." He laughed. "I like you so much I'll even forego the standard threats that a father is supposed to make when meeting his daughter's intended."

"I appreciate that, especially since I know you could follow through on them. I really don't know what to do though, Charlie. When I was here and calling her a Quidditch hottie, I wasn't paying attention to her … uh, charms. Now she's at my house petitioning my wives to allow her to join the family." He put his head into his hands. "Part of me still sees the thirteen year old girl trying to dress sexy for the 'older man', and part of me sees the woman doing it successfully now that she's twenty-three."

"Can you see yourself getting into an argument and kissing and making up afterwards?" Gina Watson said suddenly. "Can you see yourself sitting in the kitchen and talking over the fact that she thinks you spend too much time bowling, or working in the workshop, or whatever? Can you see yourself simply sitting there and holding her with nothing sexual happening?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and let him mind go back to the thirteen year old he'd known. "I couldn't think of her romantically then, but she was my closest friend here." He opened his eyes. "And when the day is done, that's the important part. They were all my friends before I was informed that they loved me." He met their eyes. "I'll not intentionally hurt Tara, you know that."

"I know. Now go home and get to know your new wife," Gina laughed.

He reappeared in the entry hall of 12 Grimmauld Place to be met with several amused faces. Tara stepped forward. "So, did Mom and Dad give their blessing?"

"Considering I was told to get to know my new wife?" he laughed. "Good God, Tara — you were cute and getting sexy those few years ago, but wow! I assume you've gotten good with a Quidditch bat?"

She laughed and grinned at him. "Too much time to get a good swing. I just fondle and then make a fist."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Sirius's muffled "Urk!

#####

Severus Snape saw the oncoming wave of "Potter spawn", as he put it, and decided that perhaps teaching Potions was not a long-term plan for him after all. It was hard to say which terrified him more, the Potter offspring, the ever-burgeoning Weasley clan, or the prospect of having to teach Longbottom’s three children. He retired to do research and live off the profits from his proprietary potions (no one had been aware that he held the patents on Skele-Gro and a number of other medicinal potions, which made him wealthy enough to do just about anything he wanted). Over the years, he was able to relax and was actually reported to smile every so often.

#####

As the years passed, Moira took over as Divination teacher at Hogwarts, and aired out the tower. Divination became a much less "woolly" discipline and attracted fewer air-headed girls, but the number of male students in the class doubled. Sybil Trelawney retired to operate a 1-800 psychic hot line in New York. She became quite wealthy and appeared on numerous talk shows.

#####

It was, perhaps, no surprise to anybody except Severus when Harry gave him an invitation to one of the monthly Potter Family orgies. It was no surprise to anybody except Sirius when Severus accepted. It was no surprise when Sirius picked a fight with Severus immediately upon his arrival at Pottersfield. It was a vast surprise to everybody when Remus dragged both Sirius and Severus off into a private room, explained to Sirius how Severus had kept him from killing himself after Sirius went through the Veil, how they had kept up a relationship through the four years that followed, and how Severus had backed off without comment when Sirius returned. Remus demanded that Sirius and Severus "work through" their differences. It was several hours before the three men emerged from the room, looking thoroughly shagged. A year after that, Severus bowed to the inevitable and changed his name to Potter, just like the rest of them.

#####

Harry did not experience a single assassination attempt until he had been in office for fifteen years. He was actually able to save the life of the would-be assassin, which had been difficult, considering that his family was rather … spirited in stating their displeasure. When the assassin had finally regained consciousness in St. Mungo’s, he kept murmuring that he should have believed his friends who tried to prevent him from taking the commission. "Now I can believe that he survived the A-K twice…" was all he said for more than a day. His mission had finally been traced to the last of the Nott family, which had been financially ruined when Voldemort died.

#####

The second assassination attempt came a year or so later.

Platform 9 ¾ was filled with the usual crowd of parents waiting to welcome the Hogwarts Express bearing their children back from school. The adults of the Potter Family were there en masse to collect the seven children they had in the first through third years (Liliane and James in third year, Deirdre Maureen and Peter David in the second year, and Melissa Anne, Julian Patrick, and Geoffrey Dorian in first). The Minister stood where the first car would pull up, distinctive in his habitual white cloak and carrying his holly staff, idly scratching an itchy spot on the back of his right hand while trying not to look as proud and excited as any other parent welcoming the children back after a long year at school. Huffing and hissing, the great steam locomotive pulled up against the platform. Melissa barely waited for the passenger car doors to open before she launched herself at her father, squealing with delight and attempting to explain all about her entire first year in ten seconds or less. Liliane rolled her eyes with all the disdain a thirteen-year-old could muster for a younger sister, and waited for the stairs to be lowered so that she and the rest of the clan could descend with a bit more decorum. All along the platform, parents waved to attract children’s attention and children jostled each other as they each tried to be first out of their cars.

Suddenly the steam whistle on the old locomotive let loose a piercing blast, then another. The engineer stuck his head out of the window and yelled, "Clear the platform now! Engine’s cutting loose! I’ll hold her as long as I can!" A gout of steam erupted from a splitting seam in the engine’s iron skin. Harry handed off a screaming Melissa to the nearest adult and slapped a binding on it, but felt the strain as whatever was inside the engine demanded to be let out.

He threw a quick sonorus spell on himself. "Everyone that can Apparate, grab as many children as you can and go to the Ministry! Doesn’t matter if they’re your own kids, just grab and get! I’m opening the lobby for emergency access. If you can’t Apparate, grab as many children as you can and get to the Muggle platform and get the hell out of the station. Leave the luggage, it’s not important! Go, people, go, go, go!" There was screaming as children and parents fought to find each other, but many groups did just as Harry said, grabbing the first available children and getting off the platform whatever way was possible. The engine was rocking back and forth ferociously by now, and Harry had it wrapped in a web of pure magic. From somewhere inside the cab, he could hear the engineer rattling off a string of spells. "Get out of there while you can, man!" Harry screamed.

"Take your own advice!" yelled Tonks. "You have to get out! The Aurors are coming to handle this!"

"I can’t — I’m holding the thing stable. Get the children out. I’ll scram and let it go when the platform’s clear!"

A burst of steam shot out through the cab. Probably the door to the firebox went, Harry realized. The wizard in the cab was no longer chanting spells.

"Harry, your hand!"

Harry looked. On the back of his right hand were the words, I WILL NOT TELL LIES, clearly etched in blood red lettering. "Umbridge," he growled. "Letting me know this is her work. Tonks, get the fuck out of here before — oh shit!" He gathered her up in his arms and dived over a luggage trolley, rolling behind a brick pillar. The exploding engine tore loose of the webs he had bound it with, and gouts of steam filled the air. Over the sound of rending metal, Harry heard a distinctive hissing scream, a sound no human throat ever made.

He risked a look around the edge of the pillar. Barely visible through the steam was the shape of a six-legged, lizard-like creature rising up out of the shattered engine. It seemed to be made of solid flame, with orange and yellow and blue flickering over its skin. It slithered out of the twisted metal and landed on the platform, and to Harry’s astonishment, the concrete pavement began to burn where its clawed feet touched. "What is it?" Tonks asked, since he was keeping her behind the pillar and she couldn’t see.

"Salamander. Biggest one I’ve ever seen. Somebody must have put it in the firebox and then cast an enlargement on it. There’s more than enough fuel around here for it to keep itself alive. Oh, hell."

The salamander was heading for the wall that lead to the Muggle part of King’s Cross Station. When it hit the permeable brickwork, the wall exploded outwards into the thronged concourse, and the fiery beast flowed through the hole, leaving the tumbled stones partly melted and fused together. There were more screams and shrieks as Muggles and Wizards alike fled for their lives. Harry and Tonks followed the creature, scrambling over the hot stones, heedless of the fact that the soles of their shoes were smouldering. Harry saw spells shooting out of the crowd, trying to hold the beast back, and thought he saw Ron and Hermione in the mob. He cast his net spell again, covering it in magical webbing. "Family!" he shouted, his voice rising above the screams and babble since the sonorus was still in effect. "Add strength to the webbing. Help me hold it down! Tonks, do you have your PDA? Set quantum tunnel, coordinates for Mt. Erebus. Tie it into the web, now!"

Tonks worked frantically at her PDA, and suddenly the salamander disappeared from sight. "That’s that," said Tonks with grim satisfaction. "Now the cleanup. About a million Memory Modifications to start with."

"No, we start with finding Umbridge. She has to be here, she would have wanted to see this." He scanned the crowd rapidly, and saw a place where people, still fleeing the place where the salamander had been, were being pushed out of the way by an otherwise invisible being. "There! Aperio!" The toad-like form of Dolores Umbridge appeared as his spell stripped away her Concealment Charm.

"POTTER!" Umbridge shrieked. "I’m going to kill you!" She brandished her wand in the first move of the Killing Curse.

"I don’t think so!" he yelled, and dove at her in a flying tackle, staff and all. They both hit the ground and vanished with a CRACK!

They reappeared on a slope of black stone and grit, fell and rolled apart from each other. Harry regained his feet first, winding up some distance upslope of the outraged witch. He glanced around for a second to get his bearings. The air was bitter cold but laced with the smell of sulphur. The sky was dark overhead. What light there was came from starlight and a red glare from the bottom of the slope, where something burned fitfully.

"You and your whole family!" screamed Umbridge, apparently locked on the one concept, her words blown away in the icy wind. "AVADA —"

"Surujnoc," whispered Harry, using his special spell on another being for a second time. Then he dove to the ground. With a resounding BOOM! Dolores Umbridge exploded, spraying everything around her with bits of red and pink. The explosion set off an avalanche on the unstable slope, and the gory scree began to slide down hill, followed by the portion of the slope to which Harry was clinging. Shaken by the explosion and unable to get to his feet in the mass of moving stone, Harry fought to keep his grip on his staff and hoped the rockslide would stop before it got too far down. When it did stop, he found himself surrounded by even thicker clouds of sulphurous gases. He tried to draw a breath and choked on the stench. His eyes, nose and lungs burned. He crawled upwards as far as he could, but the lack of oxygen kept him from getting very far, and he could hear the hissing of an angry salamander, coming to investigate the disturbance. Not good. Very, very not good. He had no strength, he couldn’t breathe, he was going to pass out and be roasted and eaten by a salamander …

It wasn’t clawed lizard feet that appeared in his fading vision, but human feet in trousers and boots. Hands grabbed his arms and dragged him upslope a short way, and then there was the CRACK! of Apparation and the crater of Mt. Erebus was left to the salamander.

His vision blurry, Harry looked up at his rescuers as they let him down on the cool floor of the Station. "The children?" he croaked.

"We’re trying to get everyone together," said Tonks, and Sirius held him down when he tried to get up. "Don’t move, you’re hurt worse than you know. Just rest." Tonks hit him with a first-aid tranquilizing spell, and the last thing Harry heard before he spiralled down into darkness was the sound of approaching sirens.

#####

He woke blind and bound, and his sense of smell was gone. His throat was raw and it hurt to breathe. Frantically, he tugged at the bindings holding his wrists. A cool hand touched him across the forehead. "Hush, love, hush," came Hermione’s unmistakeable voice. "You’re all right. The mediwitches had to tie your hands because you were thrashing for a bit. Do you understand? Don’t talk, just nod." Harry nodded. Given the condition of his throat, he didn’t think it would be possible to talk. The hand left his forehead and he felt tugging at one wrist, then another, as the bonds were undone. Hermione kept murmuring reassuring babble while she did it, and Harry was soothed by the sound of her voice. Background noise told him he was at St. Mungo’s.

"You’re going to be all right," Hermione repeated. "You were exposed to a lot of sulphur gas which converted to acid in your eyes, nose, mouth and lungs. That’s why it hurts and your eyes are bandaged. You’ve already been treated and the mediwitches tell me you’ll recover fully. Also the burns on your hands and legs. Now I suppose you want to know about the children?" Harry nodded again. "We got everybody out except James. He got separated from the rest of us. He … instead of getting off the train right away, your fool son decided to go through the next few cars to make sure the firsties got off safely — you know how they congregate at the head end of the train. So he made them all move to the back of the train to get off, but didn’t follow his own advice, and got to the platform just as the engine blew."

Harry gasped, and he mouthed, ‘Dead?’ He didn’t want to know the answer, but he had to know. James was his special child, the child of his Oath.

"No, at least … he was still alive when they brought him through triage a little while ago, and they whisked him off to Critical Care. Ginny’s with him, and she’ll let me know as soon as she knows anything. As for the rest of us, we all made it through all right. Tonks and Sirius are having treatment for their lungs, too — where did you go to, by the way? — I suppose we should just be glad that blind Apparation you did followed the quantum tunnel before it collapsed. Ginny and Severus and I are here, Remus and Ron took the children home, and of course Tara was there with the babies already. Moira’s still at the Station working with the victims."

Harry heard Hermione sigh heavily. "This one’s a mess, Harry. We’ve got families scattered all over London, wounded wizards at Muggle hospitals and Muggles here at St. Mungo’s. It was the only place to treat them for salamander fire burns. Molly and Arthur are at the Ministry, she’s working on getting the families reunited and Arthur’s working with Muggle Emergency Services and Scotland Yard to coordinate the cover-up. We’re sure we can find some terrorist group or other to pin this on. Maybe one will even volunteer. The Unspeakables are going crazy trying to rebuild the warding on Platform 9 ¾ - at the moment anyone can just look through that hole in the wall. We don’t know how many killed and injured there were, either wizard or Muggle. All that will take a while to sort out, I’m afraid."

It did, indeed, take a while to sort out. James lost his left eye, but they put in a prosthetic that he could make spin around in a really cool fashion like Mad-Eye Moody. Ginny insisted that he not have any of the stranger functions, like being able to see through things, until he was seventeen, much to his disgust. Harry recovered with his usual rapidity, and the potions they used on his eyes also corrected his vision, so that he finally discarded his glasses, though not without a touch of regret.

Harry ordered the creation of a new badge to be added to the Order of Merlin, called the Starburst for Extreme Heroism, which he privately called the Starburst for Suicidal Stupidity. The Order First Class, with Starburst, was awarded posthumously to the engineer who had given his life trying to hold the salamander back. Harry then had to explain to James why getting the first-years off the train safely entitled him to a commendation ribbon, but losing his eye did not qualify him for a Starburst, given that he was not doing something heroic, but something bloody stupid at the time. James pouted but was happy enough with his ribbon in the long run.

Harry himself refused to accept any commendation, award or Order for his actions, on the grounds that he already had one. His family understood his guilt for not being able to save everyone, and every life lost that day weighed on his spirit. Since he was, after all, the highest authority in the wizarding world, there was no appealing his decision. He was not, however, the highest authority in the Muggle world, and Arthur Weasley was perfectly positioned to go around him.

Thus it was that one Harry James Potter, Baron Black, for outstanding and unspecified services to the Crown, found himself further elevated to Viscount Potter, and inducted as a Knight of the Order of the Garter on the Queen’s next Christmas Honours List. His family grinned smugly as he bowed to the inevitable.

#####

Vernon Dursley always perused the lists of honours being presented, if only so he could make scathing comments about the artists and musicians and other pansies who undoubtedly bought their honours, and also make note of who to suck up to if he ever met them in person. So it was that one morning, his eye lighted on the notice about Harry’s elevation. No. It couldn’t be. Not that little freak! But there was a picture, and it was definitely him, freak hair and all, with a gorgeous redhead on his arm. He’s a BARON? Was a Baron all this time? And now he was going to be a Viscount. and be Knighted by the Queen, and it was all for being a FREAK!?

Vernon’s blood pressure had never exactly been low, and now it shot into the spectacularly high range. Several overtaxed blood vessels in his brain gave up the contest and burst. With an eloquent cry of "Urgh!" he fell face forward into the marmalade, where Dudley (still living at home at the age of thirty-six) found him when he came down for breakfast shortly after noon.

#####

Dudley was none too pleased with Harry’s sudden elevation to the ranks of the aristocracy either, but he was smart enough to realize that this probably meant Harry had somehow acquired some money. People just didn’t become Knights or Barons if they were broke. And this, Dudley reasoned, meant that he could probably terrify the little shrimp into giving him some of it, since he, Dudley, had never bothered to learn a trade, but had assumed he’d be able to sponge off his parents for his entire life, and now needed to find someone else to sponge off.

Harry was rather surprised to receive a letter from his cousin. Its rather poorly-veiled threats left no doubt as to what he wanted. So he consulted his family and had his "secretary" (Tonks, enjoying herself immensely) call Dudley and set up a meeting. Dudley did have a bit of native shrewdness, and realized that perhaps having a private meeting with a known wizard was not the right way to go about things. Who know what Harry could turn him into? So he suggested a coffee shop he knew of in Little Whinging, where they could have a conversation in relative privacy and in some security that neither would be able to attack the other.

Dudley arrived early, ordered an extra-large coffee and half a dozen crumpets from the new guy behind the counter (tall skinny guy with a hawk nose and a hairnet holding back his dark hair, who seemed to be having far too much fun operating the coffee machines), and claimed a corner booth. While he waited for Harry, he spent the time idly checking out the legs on the secretary type at the centre table. The two men playing chess and the black woman with a sullen teenage daughter he ignored.

Shortly after the agreed-upon time, a shiny black limousine pulled into the car park. A chauffeur got out, opened the door for Harry, opened the door to the coffee shop for Harry, and went to get Harry’s coffee while Harry himself slid into the booth across from Dudley. Dudley gave his cousin a thorough once-over. Harry had ditched the glasses somewhere, probably wore contacts, and that nasty red scar had finally faded. His hair still went every which way. But the last time he’d seen his cousin, he’d been an angry teenager. Now there was a very expensively dressed, very self-assured man sitting across from him.

Harry scornfully flicked a crumb from the table, wearing an expression he’d nicked from Draco Malfoy’s repertoire, now that Malfoy wasn’t using it any more. Dudley was just as big a loser as he had suspected; apparently his cousin had neglected his boxing regime and let the muscle he’d built go back to fat. His blond hair desperately needed a wash, and so did his clothes, and a shave wouldn’t be amiss, either. "Dudley, my dear cousin," he said, swiping Malfoy’s drawl to go with the sneer. "What could possibly be so urgent that you’d ask me to come all the way down to Little Whinging? In the middle of a workday yet?"

"Don’t try to pull all that plummy nob shit with me, Potter. I don’t know what you did or who you fooled to get where you are, but I know who you are and where you came from. And what happened when you were there. So unless you want some very messy gossip to hit the papers, and maybe have the oh-so-colourful details passed along to your charming wife, you’ll play along with me, same as you ever did."

"I will, hey?" Harry lost some of his assumed sophistication. "You expect me to just roll over for you, Dudders?"

"You did before," said Dudley, with more than a touch of smugness. "I’m sure you remember, you, me, Piers and the boys behind the hedgerow at the play park? We did have some good times, didn’t we?"

"What do you want?" said Harry, bluntly.

"Well, I don’t know if you read the obits, but the old man blew a gasket a little ways back. Sudden stroke. Left me nothing but Privet Drive, mortgaged to the hilt, and a car that needs work. Now, what made it interesting was that it was reading about your elevation to the gentry that gave him his invitation to the Great Beyond. I found the newspaper turned to that article, and he’d sprayed toast crumbs all over it."

"How charming," said Harry.

"Yeah, well, I figure it’s all your fault, isn’t it? You hadn’t done whatever it was — ‘unspecified service to the Crown,’ was it? Who’d you have to pay off for that one? — my Dad would still be alive, still be working, and I’d still have my meal ticket. So I figure you owe me."

"Do I now? And how much do you figure I owe you? Enough to pay off the mortgage? Enough to get you out of the country? Enough to keep you the rest of your life?"

"Oh, that last sounds nice. Very nice. And from the looks of you, you wouldn’t even miss it, now would you, Your Lordship, sir?"

"Probably not. Although it would go against the grain. Tell you what, I’ve got two, not one, but two counter-offers. You can take your pick. First is, I’ll give you a job. Real work, for real pay, with reasonable room and board thrown in."

"A job? Yeah, right. Lock me in the attic, like as not."

"I’m not like you, Dudders, or hadn’t you noticed that. Lord knows why I’m giving you even one more chance, but I am. You can take the job and get on your feet. Go to school. Learn something useful. Make a life for yourself that doesn’t involve beating up kids and taking their lunch money."

"And your other offer?"

Harry drew his wand out of his sleeve and laid it on the table. Dudley blanched. "Remember the tail, Duddykins? I can always finish what Hagrid started. And then take it one step further and make ham sandwiches."

"You wouldn’t dare! We’re in public, and your Ministry would-"

Harry chuckled. "Oh, I’m on quite good terms with the Ministry these days. I could do what I like, and nary an owl would I see. And besides-" he flicked the wand at the coffee shop’s windows and the light from outside dimmed, as if the glass itself had become smoky. "Nobody outside will notice a thing now. And as for our audience," he gestured and Dudley suddenly became aware that every other person in the coffee shop, even the guy behind the counter, was paying close attention to their conversation. The bushy-haired secretary with the great legs had placed a wand on the table in front of her, the two chess players had theirs in their hands, lazily pointing to the floor, and the counterman was twirling his idly in his fingers. Even the teenager had one. "Everybody in this shop is a witch or wizard, Dudley, and a member of my Family. Think anybody’s going to say boo about anything I do in here? Time’s flying, and I have things to do. Important things. What do you say, Dudley? The job, or … the other? I’m afraid paying you off is no longer on your list of options."

Dudley took the job.

Harry produced a sheet of parchment with the terms he’d outlined. Harry was to provide a job, room and board, reasonable salary, would not threaten, harass, demean or insult Dudley, etc. etc. Dudley was to do the job to the best of his ability, was not to harass, threaten, insult, or offer violence to any member of Harry’s Family or any guest, was allowed to use the recreation facilities on the estate, and was free to leave at any time he wished, on the proviso that he would thereafter have no contact with Harry or his Family again ever. Harry had spent quite a bit of time on the contract, and it had virtually no unclear phrasing that could trip either of them up. Harry signed it with a flourish; Dudley with rather more uncertainty, especially since he wasn’t quite sure how to use a quill. But it was signed and Harry sealed it, and duplicated it with a little flash of magic. Dudley took his copy with shaking fingers.

"Your mother is going to be very happy with you, Dudley."

"M-Mum? I haven’t seen her since … since the divorce."

"Well, we got in touch a while ago. We’ve been working together and cleared up a lot of our differences. She’s the one who said I ought to give you a chance instead of, well, instead of what I wanted to do. I didn’t think highly of you, Dudley, and I still don’t, but she says you’re capable of improvement. So if you’re willing to stick by the terms of what you signed, I’ll keep to my side."

"Can I see my Mum? Can you tell me where she’s living?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, at the moment she and her new husband — and your half-brother — are living in the guest house on my estate, and I expect she’ll be wanting to see as much of you as you can handle."

"Half-brother?" Dudley whispered.

"Yep, there’s more family now than just us. Lots more. You’ll see. For now, your Mum is waiting out in the limo. The car will take you by Privet Drive and you can pack the things you’ll need for a long stay. I can connect you with my solicitor if you want to rent the house out so you have some extra income. But that’s up to you. I have to get back to the office. I’ll see you later, Dudley."

Sirius, in his chauffeur’s uniform, took Dudley’s arm and helped him to his feet. "You’re doing the right thing. Both of you," he said, and lead Dudley out to the limo.

When they were gone, Hermione, Moira and Tonks, who now resumed her usual form, jumped up and hugged him. "We’re so proud of you, Harry!" Hermione whispered in his ear.

"That was so ugly. I just wanted to hex that smirk off his face. I was really considering the sandwich option."

"But you didn’t, Harry. Instead you gave him the chance to redeem himself. It’s up to him if he takes it."

"The saving-people thing strikes again, I suppose?" he said with a wry smile.

"If you ever lost it, you wouldn’t be you any more, Harry. Now, what do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?" she purred.

"Alas, I wasn’t kidding when I said I had to get back to the office. Paperwork awaits. Although," he said, looking at her consideringly, "I think you’d fit in the space under the desk as well as Ginny does …"

"Ooh, let’s go find out!" said Hermione, smiling, and the two said their farewells to the others and Apparated out.

"My own desk is awash in paper, unfortunately," said Tonks. "What are you going to do, Moira?"

"I cancelled classes for the rest of the afternoon so I could be there when Sirius gets back to the estate with Dudley. I’ll have to console him for making the effort to help Dudley pack, poor dear."

"We’re just going to finish our game," said Remus. "Although I can tell already Ron’s going to kick my tail as usual. Severus, how about another latte?"

"As you wish," said the Potions Master. "I took the counter kid’s shift for the rest of the day, so I’m stuck here until four anyway. You know, these espresso machines are really quite nice. I’m wondering if they could be adapted for expressing the essences of potions ingredients?..."

#####

At the end of his third term as Minister, Harry informed the Wizengamot and the populace that he was not running again, and if nominated or elected would run away to San Francisco to seek asylum. Reluctantly, they took him at his word, and he retired to work on his wands and PDAs. By this time, Muggle electronics had caught up with his quantum tunnel work, at least on a small scale, and had gone a long way toward proving Clarke’s Third Law. Harry sat back and prepared to live happily ever after. He’d earned it.

#####

Petunia Evans had married Everett Marchbanks, a Squib relation of the redoubtable Griselda Marchbanks. Although she had thought herself beyond child-bearing age, much to her surprise, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy a year later. Jubilation Marchbanks went on to become the greatest wizard of his age. But that’s another story.

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