Chapter 11: Valar Morghulis 1/2

THE BINDING OF FATES

CHAPTER 11

VALAR MORGHULIS

Summary: Aftermath of their first mission as a Hunter Clan

Jon, for the first time in a long while, was not awoken by Harry in the early morning. Instead, he woke up naturally, feeling refreshed and ready for the day. What he did not expect was the few vases of flowers and cards placed on the side table in the hospital. He picked up the closest one, reading the card that was written in French. After staring at it in confusion, the words began to make sense and turned into English.

Dear Mr. Black

From our family to yours, thank you from the bottom of our hearts!

The St Claires

Michel, Annette and Jean Paul.

Another vase had similar thanksgiving notes and a striking assortment of Gladiolus, King Protea, Chamomile, Hyssop and Black-Eyed Susans.

"Mr. Black, I am glad to see you awake and rested," Penelope Payet said, walking over. "There is tea, or coffee, that I can bring for you right over there, if you wish."

"Good Morning," Jon replied, his voice scratchy and deep. "Coffee is fine, Mistress Payet. Why...?" he pointed to the table next to him.

"Oh yes, some very meaningful selections came pouring in around dawn this morning," she smiled, stepping close to him and looking at the bouquets. "King Protea, yes... It signifies daring and resourcefulness. It is symbolic of diversity and courage. This arrangement signifies all of that; strength of character, sacrifice, justice and honor."

Jon stared at the vase, touched that someone would have gone through this for him.

"Please send them my thanks. It is appreciated," Jon said sitting up. "Where are the others?"

"They left early to go to the work site. They allowed you to rest and will return for breakfast."

Jon swung his legs out of bed immediately.

"They left without me?" Jon said, perturbed. "I must make haste."

"No, rush," she said gently, bringing him some coffee. "They were arranging everything for easy transport and then will meet back here for breakfast. The curse has been lifted. Everyone, even after the horrific attack last night, still managed to get a full good night's rest. Even Michael has recovered sufficiently to accompany the Crows to devise a way to transport the heavy barrels."

"Very well," Jon said, standing up while sipping his coffee. He nodded his head in appreciation of the great taste. Madame Payet informed him that the main house across the way would accommodate him if he wanted to freshen up. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Oh a little after nine. Feel free to go across and shower when you are ready. Unfortunately all we have are these to offer you to wear," she pointed to a set of elegant black robes that were folded on the bed closest to him. "Your special gear was almost completely destroyed ... You were extremely lucky it protected you from the fire."

"Yes, lucky," Jon nodded, hiding his smile behind his coffee mug. He tucked his feet into provided bedroom slippers. "Thank you Mistress Payet for your hospitality and care. I will take up that offer of a bath."

He made his way across to the large farm house closest to the marketplace.

"Bonjour," the middle aged woman there said. "Penelope said you would come," she greeted. 'I am Marie. Please feel free," she showed him to a large bathroom with a tub and shower. "Here are towels, and soaps." She demonstrated the hot and cold taps and left him to it.

Half an hour later, feeling refreshed and clean in the new robes provided, he made his way back to the large kitchen and outdoor picnic area at the Market. The town folk were still busy at the market, but the atmosphere was more of one of business as usual, rather than desperation. There was laughter and boisterous voices , children running and merchants haggling wares.

The voices quieted as he approached, heads turning towards him as he walked across the street. A little girl ran up to him, probably no more than six years old, and gifted him two hastily picked flowers.

"Merci beacoup, chevalier noir," she said shyly, handing him her present. Jon crouched to one knee, and took them with a grin.

"Merci," he responded, the girl laughed at his accent and ran away to her mother.

"Mr. Black," a burly man selling lumber said, nodding in thanks.

"Black," another called, raising his fist in salute.

"Le Chevalier noir!" another called, his craftsman hammer raised in victory.

"Le magicien noir immortel!" came another salute.

Soon all the morning folk present were praising him, calling him strange French terms that he has never heard before. Some came and shook his hand, offering him bound parcels and packages, and even a few bottles of wine. A pretty girl saw his predicament and brought across a massive woven basket for him to put his gifts in.

"I... am, very grateful," Jon said uncomfortably as hefted his hamper. After finally deflecting incomprehensible commendations and praise he got to the breakfast shed. Some of the families offered instead to take him to their homes to feed him. "Thank you, but I must decline," he said, smiling and shaking his head. The food merchants dished out a hefty plate of breakfast and offered him choices of juice, tea, water and wine.

As he sat down at the long eating benches, Ollivander, Michael, Harry, Tonks and Cloud apparated in the field a short distance away from the breakfast shed.

The crew smiled at Jon as they approached. Cloud bounded forward and eagerly sniffed the table where Jon's plate was. Jon laughed as he offered the white Shepherd a healthy piece of ham.

"Wotcher," Tonks greeted, patting him on the back as she sat down next to him. "Whoa!" she said, seeing the basket sitting on the bench on the other side of him. She leaned across his back to peep at the contents. "No drinking on mission," she laughed, taking out a wine bottle to look at it. Small talk ensued as the two food attendants brought everyone a plate to eat and began digging in.

"Michael and I visited Madame Valmont at Beauxbatons this morning," Harry said. "We convinced them to loan us a large goods wagon with a couple of their winged horses to transport the stuff to Calais. Professor Allemons would do the driving."

"That is scheduled for one. But first, the Elfen bat wings," Ollivander reminded. "This should not take long as we only need one or two to secure what we need. Professor Allemons knows an area that he demonstrates for field trips for the upper levels. The wing harvesting from the creature is a common practical assessment pre-NEWTS course. "

"Very well," Jon nodded. Michael looked a bit embarrassed, a bit overawed as he watched Jon.

"Mr. Black, I have heard the rumours," Michael said bluntly. "Your clan mates verify and credits you with the slaying of the Diablo, capture of two infiltrators at the school, and four of the Russian gang. All in the course of one day."

Jon tilted his head in acknowledgement. "We operate as a cohesive unit."

"Hm. I see. How old are you?" Michael asked.

Jon stared at the man. Michael didn't flinch.

"May I ask why you have these questions?"

Michael laughed. "Two reasons. This is one," he took out a rolled parchment with the ribbon sealed with France's coat of arms on it. "The older heads had a council meeting a few hours after the incident. Penelope was there as well and asked that I give this to you after you had chance to settle down and have something to eat."

Jon accepted the scroll and cut the ribbon with his trusty butter knife. As he read, he frowned.

"What does it say?"

"They are asking me to honor their new town square by agreeing to let them use my name and likeness with a statue. Word has reached the joint council of Salles, Estagal, Rousillion and Rocomadour. These apparently are the main magical towns in the south, and they offer me this statue, along with sanctuary for me and familial relations if I wish to become a French magical citizen."

"They must want you really bad," Harry noted, whistling.

"That is truly a high honour," Ollivander noted.

Michael grunted in agreement. "The French were always annoyed that they did not have a fabled magical hero like the Boy Who Lived in England. I don't know why these Europeans believe that story anyway. No one survives the Killing Curse," he laughed. The crew laughed alongside him, even Harry who could not help but enjoy the irony of it all.

He did it. Twice now.

Jon pursed his lips. "I will agree to the use of my name and likeness for the statue. However, I must remain a loyal subject to Her Majesty's United Kingdom. I also wish to reserve the right to visit the lovely people of southern France. Allies and symbolism are important. Will this be sufficient?"

"Mr. Black, from what I have heard, the people here would marry off their daughters if you only smiled at them," he chuckled. "They'll agree to your terms all right."

"And the other reason?" Jon asked, all business again.

"I came to England to start over," Michael said, leaning forward earnestly. "Being a hunter seemed a good idea at first, until I realized there are very, very, powerful wizards here, and in Europe as a whole. And some bastardly strong creatures to deal with."

Jon nodded, his stare intense.

"Not every day a man comes across a wizard who can take on a Russian Hit Wizard team and live to tell the tale. Far less survive immolation from the Zwillingsfeuerball Charm. I was hoping you will put in a good word to Ms. Dora here for me," he paused, letting out a breath.

"I want to contribute and be a part of your Clan," he directed this towards Tonks. He smiled at her. "Sometimes I would like to learn a bit more from people before I get involved. You guys are young, but yet, you're good. Frighteningly good. Was just curious about your age, that's all."

The three British wizards all looked towards Harry. Harry was listening intently to Michael's pitch.

"Mr. MacMillan," Harry addressed him. "Can you give us a second to discuss this?"

He finished his apple juice and nodded, mildly surprised that they all deferred to Harry. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll be inside by Penelope. I would let her know you agreed," he held up the scroll, "on certain conditions, of course." He got up and left the table.

"Tonks? Jon?" Harry put some more food in his mouth. "What you think?"

"Trial first. Let us hire him as a hedge knight if needed, as needed," Jon said, watching his retreating back.

"We need to find out his background too," Tonks said. "Anyone who was willing to help this situation over months even if he couldn't eradicate the nogtails must mean something."

"His mission records can be checked if you talk to Greyback, saying that he wants to join your guild," Ollivander added. "I believe he may be useful as Jon said; as needed when needed. It may be prudent to hire him as security on mission, regardless of the fee associated with the bounty."

"A hired wand," Harry nodded. "Jon, that might be a good idea to try out. We can hire him as your personal security for when you go to Alexandria's party. Stay outside, make sure no one is coming for you, that sort of thing." Harry shrugged.

"Agreed. A trial would be best." The remainder of the meal was eaten in amicable silence. When all was finished, Jon stood up. "Let us go see Madame Payet."

Half an hour later Jon was modeling for his statue on a crate. The town craftsman Bob, Penelope, Michael, and the town "mayor' Mr. Zilliard were all present with the Crow's Vambrace. They were all on a slight incline on the crest of a sloping field. The sun was at Jon's back, casting a shadow along the field. Cloud was running around, chasing the birds that lingered on the grass. Jon was now regretting his choice, but grudgingly went along with all the pomp and fanfare.

"Strike a pose, Mr. Black," Penelope Payet encouraged. Jon scowled, irritated. He shifted reluctantly, his attitude darkening with each request. Harry was reminded of the Tri Wizard media circus.

After a couple minutes of the craftsman conjuring miniature statues copying Jon's likeness without artistic success, Harry got frustrated. He gave Jon his weapons belt, his unstrung bow and asked Tonks to transfigure a quiver with arrows. Jon, seeing what Harry was doing, strung the bow and accepted the quiver.

"Widen the crate," Harry ordered. The craftsman did so. Jon opened his stance a bit wider. "No, still not it. Give it a cobble stone finish like the street." With another flick the crate turned to cobblestones on top. "Do the teeth thing, Black." Jon put an arrow between his teeth. "Okay bad idea. Nock it in the bow. Right. Wait. Still need something more," he looked at Tonks. "Can you create a moving surface such that Jon needs to walk along the top of it? " Tonks waved her wand at the modified crate , widening it and making the top slide slowly like a conveyor belt. Jon lowered the centre of his balance and began to move.

"Capture a couple now, Bob," Harry ordered the Craftsman. After the third miniature was conjured, all were in agreement that it suited Jon and brought forward a perfect likeness. Jon jumped down, relieved that the show was over. Penelope gave Jon a motherly hug.

"It will be a great honor for our small village. What you have done for us is beyond words. The hope, and strength your team have instilled in us will make us a better community," she said, looking like a proud mother. "If my daughter wasn't so young, I would have sent your guardians formal word of potential betrothal. I do hope you plan to visit again soon."

"He's still young Madame, give them some time," Ollivander joked, puffing his pipe. "The future is bright, and all things may be possible." The men laughed. The team bid their hosts farewell before they disappeared.

The Crow's Vambrace turned towards Michael. Tonks spoke up.

"So, MacMillan. We discussed your proposition. There are some conditions. We will hire you with pay up front for missions until we get a feel of how well we work together, regardless of success or not with the bounty. Obviously this can increase depending on what happens on the field. But until we are sure, you would be a hired wand for now. After time we may let you join. How's that sound?"

"Sounds fair," Michael agreed. "You sound like you have something lined up?"

"We may need you to be security at an informal function we may have," Jon said.

"We?" Harry said.

"Yes. You will accompany me," Jon replied to Harry, his eyes not leaving Michael's.

"You got beef with another clan?" he asked, his eyebrows going up.

"No. Worse than that," Jon replied. "A girl's sixteenth birthday party."

Michael was silent a moment, then laughed. He laughed until he realized that Mr. Black was not smiling.

"You're serious."

"Mr. Black is always serious," Harry said, smirking. Tonks groaned.

"Not a problem," Michael shrugged. "Let's get your bat wings. The transport is coming at one. More than enough time, I reckon."

"So. Twelve barrels of two hundred liters of Wild Bog Boar urine, three pounds of Elfen Bat wing, an all White Swiss Shepherd christened Cloud, and the whole remains of a Diablo. Three French Quicksilver brooms. Wazza did tell me some young Apothecary Guildsmen he never saw before passed through yesterday, early," Rook Littleborough said. "Writ of goods and Import licenses, please," he said, circling the large cart.

Jon produced the documents and placed them on the desk.

"Did you procure these items through purchase or through Registered Hunter Guild ranging?"

"Ranging," Jon replied.

"Hunter Clan name and writ of services, please."

"The Crow's Vambrace," Jon replied, producing the signed documents Madame Maxime and Madame Payet provided. Rook took the documents and copied down certain information from the documents unto his own. He made a copy of this completed scroll with a flick of his wand and stamped with a blue stamp pad.

"This is your writ of inspection and itemized goods which aligns with the guild requests, so that is in order." Jon took the scroll of parchment.

Rook took out a large battered log book and a separate, newer book with a schedule of costs and scarcity matrix.

"The going rate of importation tax on the wings are three galleons a pound. Legally casked Nogtail urine rate is ten galleons per two hundred liters... you have twenty four hundred. The diablo... hmmm," Rook said, eyeing the party.

Jon stood in front of the desk, silent, watching.

"Who are you brokering this for?" Rook asked.

"We are entering the business as new dealers in the market. It will be offered to manufacturers of magical protective gear at fair prices," Jon explained.

"You do not have a written purchase order from a creditable merchant body?" Rook asked.

"Not yet," Jon said slowly. "The lady who approved this license has said that this document would be enough to bring in these goods," Jon said patiently. "Is there a problem?"

Rook studied Jon and his elegant robes donated by the French. He glanced at Harry's all white robes, scrutinizing the company Jon kept. His eyes lingered on Tonks a moment before spotting Ollivander sitting on the waiting area chair.

"Only the companies associated with the Aerie in Romania want anything near this quantity. For you to just jump in that competitive sphere..." Rook trailed off, shaking his head. "This is fine. I am just doing my duty."

"May I ask who is your contact with the Dragon Aerie?"

"Hm. Charlie Weasley comes to mind, he's one of the few people from there that comes through ICOP with goods. Your total is one hundred and twenty nine galleons for the harvested items. The Diablo, in such condition, is no charge."

Harry and Jon put up the fare and their bill parchment was drawn up and a duplicate was created. This was stamped with a red stamp pad.

"That's it. Send Diagon branch my regards," Rook said, organizing his recently written scrolls and receipts. Tonks issued the weight reduction charm on the cart and the four of them pushed the massive cart out unto the delivery yard at Dover's Apothecary ICOP port services. Even with the decreased weight, it took them almost ten minutes to push the wooden cart out of the premises and into the open field.

Everyone looked at Ollivander for inspiration on what to do now.

"I did not anticipate all of these barrels. One would have been sufficient. But we cannot waste it. You have made a fortune on this if you get a bulk sale. We must find a way."

Harry had his finger to his mouth, his brow furrowed in thought.

"We do have a way. It's just that, it's really far."

"What do you mean?" Ollivander asked.

"We brought stuff from Hogwarts to London using our threstrals," Jon said, studying Harry and coming to the same line of thought.

"Our threstrals? You have threstrals?" Ollivander asked incredulously.

"Yeah, they do," Tonks said laughing. "What, after all that's happened you mean to tell me you are really surprised about that, Mr. Ollivander?" she laughed. "Probably the most believable thing about these two."

In a sudden change of manner, Tonks got down to her knees and picked up a handful of soil. "Home. What a first trip on my own without my parents," she said to the others. "It's crazy what can happen in a day."

"Yes it is. Let's see if I can make this day eve more crazier," Harry said, staring at the afternoon sky to the north. "We're back in jolly old England. No sea to stop them."

"You can't expect them to hear you even if you try, Harry," Tonks said.

Harry just shrugged, looking to the north. "Give me a minute. I'm going to try something."

Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the hardest moment of his life. The moment he opened the snitch, knowing it was his time to die.

The moment he united the Deathly Hallows, and formed a binding contract with Death.

The area grew unnaturally still. The wind, the trees, everything settled down and it became quiet.

Ollivander drew his wand, feeling magic heavy in the air of a different class, of supernatural essence.

"Harry?" he called, feeling uncomfortable.

Harry could see and feel the long walk through the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid, restrained and on his knees. Voldemort, and his followers, awaiting his presence.

"Shadow Wing, One Ear, Banshee, Rudolph, Tornado, StarScream, WhiteStar," he called to the sky, his voice altered with magic. "To me," he commanded, clenching his fist before him.

The air grew even heavier, and Ollivander was forced into a crouch, his robes pressing down on his frame. Both Tonks and Jon eventually had to join him, magic bringing them to their knees behind Harry in a forced bow.

"Harry!" Ollivander shouted. "What are you doing?" he screamed, horror in his voice.

Harry opened his eyes, and finally the heavy magic disappeared. "They are coming."

"Who?" Tonks said, getting to her feet, woozy. Harry walked over to the massive cart.

"Jon, are any of the parcels in here meat?" Harry asked, looking in his hamper basket.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Good," Harry dug around and found a leg of ham. "You do not mind, do you?"

"No, not at all, by all means, go ahead."

Harry took the meat and walked further into the clearing. He crouched down on bended knee and used the paper cut jinx to cut it up into pieces. At his crouched position he began distributing the meat in a circle around him in seven evenly distributed servings. Within seconds of waiting, Crow-like screams could be heard coming from a distance. Specs in the sky grew larger and larger, seven black shapes flying in a V formation at tremendous speed. They flashed down like seven bolts of lightning, surrounding Harry at their food stations.

All threstrals were bowing, knee bent and snout to the grass, wings laid flat on the open field.

Harry stood up, his white robes billowing in the breeze of their landing. The threstrals remained eerily motionless, their bow uniform and perfect.

"Rise," he commanded solemnly. The threstrals stood, shaking their snouts, flapping wings, hoofing the ground. "Eat," he said, and all attacked their share of the meat instantaneously.

Harry let them eat and approached the others. "Problem solved," he grinned. "The seven should be strong enough to get this to London. Jon help me with the harness, Tonks you too. Might need to modify them to make two trains with Shadow Wing the leader in front."

Ollivander just stood there, fascinated at what he has witnessed.

"How, what?" he stammered, coming up to Harry, eyeing the hungry beasts. "You summoned them?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "We got in a fight with an Alpha a few nights ago. The next day Hagrid showed us how to call one and tame it, and eventually these seven were chosen," Harry explained. "Feeding them and naming them made them accept me. Quite helpful in our future line of work, now that I really think about it. I'll have to owl headmistress Maxime for a quote on this wonderful cart...don't want to have to return it. Hopefully she would let us purchase it."

"Just to convince them to cross the ocean now," Jon added, remembering Tonks' limitations.

"Oh, nah, now that I've actually done it, they should come to me anywhere I call. I think that limitation is for other wizards... I am this herd's true Alpha and recognized by them as such. They will come, I'm pretty sure of that." Harry said, watching how the Abraxan harnesses were designed and trying to figure out how to sort this out.

"Remarkable," Ollivander said, inspecting the threstrals eating. Most were finishing the last morsels. "Well. It beats having to take this on the train."

After a half an hour of Tonks and Ollivander experimenting how to reconfigure the harnesses to accommodate the smaller threstrals, Harry grew frustrated. He told them to revert all the alterations and leave the harness as is. He sat down on the driver's bench and called the threstrals one by one. Ollivander stepped aside, and was going to question him when Tonks shook her head at him.

"Its uncanny how he uses his magic, and how he disregards conventional thinking. Patience, and have trust in him, Mr. Ollivander," she said to him, folding her arms and watching Harry do his thing. The threstral backed in between the harnesses laying on the ground and when Shadow Wing was last to align, the harnesses levitated, contorted, then attached to all of them in an orderly fashion.

"Hop on Master Ollivander. Jon just make sure everything is secure. Cloud! Up boy!"

Cloud was hiding under the cart ever since the Threstrals arrived.

"I'll pick him up," Tonks said, sympathetic to the dog's fright. "Come luv, it's okay..."

Within minutes, the Crow's Vambrace was airborne and heading to London.

Harry woke up Jon bright and early the next morning, bringing him a hearty breakfast from the cafe higher up Diagon Alley.

"We got the day off... let's use it to organize our Clan business. And I need to get some more robes. Did you get an owl?"

"No. It's only yesterday afternoon we came back. When would I have gotten the time?" Jon said as they had breakfast on the upstairs patio.

"You need one. And you need the ministry to register your fireplace on the network." Harry explained.

"Is that so?" Jon queried.

"Yes. And you need to get school books..." Harry looked around. "Wait you have no shelves. You need to fix this place up."

"Oh? I would never have guessed," Jon said sarcastically.

"And get some security in. Right now that cellar got a lot of expensive material."

"Should I be writing all this down?" Jon asked, raising one eyebrow.

"You need to see if you can replace the ninja gear. Think that possible?" Harry said, pointing his fork.

"I am trying. Maybe World Wizarding Gear would have something less, um... elaborate and flowing. Something close and more suitable to continue testing out more threstral blood on. I am not very good at the cutting and stitching Tonks wrote to me about."

"Jon!" came a female cry outside.

"I wonder who is that?" Harry said rhetorically.

"Speak of the devil," Jon declared. Harry grinned.

"Unless you have a secret admirer," Harry countered. Jon shook his head with laughter.

"Right. Only one other person, or maybe two, know that I live here, and I doubt Miss Alexandria Potage would step off her throne to go down a side alley in Diagon."

"You never know," Harry teased.

"I will bring her in," Jon ended that line of conversation, rising quickly.

"Put on some real clothes," Harry reminded him as he reached the stairs.

"This pants reaches the knee, and she has seen us bareback digging for an entire afternoon."

"She would be a guest in your castle, remember?" Harry advised.

"Hmph. I better find something," he turned to go into his quarters. "Please take out something for Tonks to partake in the breakfast from the hamper, and warm the kettle for tea in the meanwhile." Jon leaned out the window. "One moment!" he replied, waving at her.

"All right!" came the reply from the street.

Harry took the hamper from the kitchen and some wares to add another setting to the patio table. Jon returned wearing the Iron Man T-shirt he confiscated from Harry. "I definitely need to get stuff," he said, embarrassed. He ran down the stairs and let Tonks in.

"Hiya Jon," Tonks said.

"Miss Tonks," Jon bowed. "Please, come in."

Tonks came in, and sighed. "I couldn't sleep well. I was thinking about the fire, and I came to check on you. Just to make sure."

"I am quite well," Jon reinforced. "The pain was gone with a full night's rest."

"That's good. Come here," Tonks said. Jon came closer. Tonks suddenly wrapped him in a firm hug. "Thank you, for being so brave," she said softly. "I... I.." she just held Jon, who could not move, he was so stunned. "Couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you in the fire. Still can't believe you're ok."

"Yes, you must not worry," Jon said, patting her back. Tonks let him go.

Tonks held him at arms length, her eyes bright with happy tears. "You saved my life, Jonny boy. Don't you know doing those things for damsels in distress is not conducive for our self confidence? I wanna be an Auror, y'know." She pulled him back in a quick hug. "You're a wiry lad," she noticed, squeezing his arm.

"Ah.. yes... it's the training," Jon stammered, a bit self conscious. "Come, your timing is excellent. Harry is awaiting upstairs in the patio."

"Why am I not surprised?" Tonks laughed. "Wotcha, Harry!" she called up, taking the steps two at a time. Jon latched the door closed and followed behind her. "You lads are up to something, aren't you?"

"Business meeting," Harry beamed, pulling a chair out for her to sit at the table. "You're just in time." Tonks took the seat and smiled at the two of them.

"All this nice treatment!" Tonks laughed as she saw her plate. "You're going to make a girl fat if you keep this up," she said, pouring tea into her cup.

They took their time and ate, making small talk and discussing the week ahead.

"Let's see about our finances at Gringotts this morning. We also need to hire a curse breaker to get the claws out of the Diablo."

"Fair enough," Tonks admitted. "Or you could ask Ollivander. He seems to know a lot."

"Yes. But I also want to find out if that creature has other parts that are valuable and unique. A curse breaker would be able to tell us that too."

"True. Did we get a concrete offer yet for the Threstral parts?" Tonks asked.

"I will have to check my mail box at Eyelops," Jon said. "I set the return address there."

"That's a good idea. Keep your home address private," Harry agreed.

"I was thinking about that," Tonks said, sipping her tea. "Wouldn't it be better if we had an established Clan Hall, or House?"

"A property?" Harry asked.

"Yes. A place reserved for business and such," Tonks added.

"Sounds good," Jon agreed.

"When we were walking through Hogsmeade, I noticed there were places for rent nearer to the station. Far enough from the popular spots, but close enough to Hogwarts just in case you guys need to handle stuff while at school. Also, less prying eyes there than in Diagon. Cheaper too."

Harry thought that was a good idea. That forest, no forget the forest, the Basilisk would make a mint if they destroyed it and harvested the corpse. Those spiders also could be harvested, but Jon and Harry were nowhere close enough in power and knowledge to take them all on.

Jon stared at Tonks, who was pensive and thoughtful.

Does she want to be close to them when they left for school? Her behavior downstairs was a bit... different.

"Brilliant," Harry said. "That may be just what we need."

"And what about the American. Michael?"

"We need to check on the guild for more information about him," Jon said. "The more I think about it..." he frowned, putting food in his mouth. "Ah, forget it."

"Tonks, do you know Charlie Weasley? He's Ron and the twins' older brother."

"Yeah I think so, that's who Rook was talking about, innit?"

"Think you can arrange a meeting with him? We would like to do business with the armor smiths that made your Dragon jerkin. We could probably get a nice healthy sum for the extra barrels we have."

"I will write him. He was a year or so above me if I remember," replied Tonks. "I wonder if I still have the sale parchment..."

After they ate, Jon took some time inside to bathe and get ready. Tonks and Harry sat in the patio watching the sky brighten and discussing this and that.

"So. When are you going to get back a good wand?"

Harry hesitated. "I think when we've created some good test wands that are deemed worthy, Mr. Ollivander would let us use our new Phoenix feathers."

"What?!" Tonks said. "Did you say phoenix?"

"Um..yeah?"

"That is really, really cool. I have never heard of anyone with a phoenix core before."

"Oh?" Harry inquired.

"Yeah, only phoenix I know of is Fawkes. He doesn't like anyone except Dumbledore," Tonks said. "How did you manage to get that?"

"Fawkes flamed Dumbledore outside the shop last week. Two fell off and Jon caught it."

"Holy shit," Tonks whispered, staring at Harry incredulously. "The funny thing is, I believe you."

Harry grinned, "Just lucky, I guess."

"Luck, he says. The two of you are so strange," she said, shaking her head.

Jon came out, clean and dressed in his Madame Milkin's Suit-style robes and his tall ranging boots from WWG. "Whenever you are ready," he said. "We can leave for Gringotts. "

Tonks stood up, nodding. "Let's go. We'll write Charlie from Eyelops when we stop off there."