4

When we got back to my penthouse I noticed that not only had my publisher come and gone, but the stack of books I'd finished was also missing as well. I sighed, resisting the urge to hang my head in my hands, as I thought about it.

Oh dear, that was going to be one painful book signing later this year! I felt honestly sorry for those kids that might get confused about which of my books to buy, also. There were going to be quite a few available.

Oh well, you might as well tell Snape to stop picking on Gryffindors as say to my publisher that he ought to put off making money on my novels. I had been careless to leave them by the door, but I honestly hadn't had that many open shelves! Oh well, probably time to have a knickknack burning, as all of those dainty little trinkets were going to have to move somewhere to open up some space. We had a library to be installing!

I was just engaged in a process wherein I was designing a way to fling the odd stuff up high for practice shooting with spells when the doorbell rang. Harry started, and I gave him a wry smile. "What? Don't tell me you've forgotten about Nymphadora already?"

His eyes opened in understanding, and I gave him a conspiratorial wink. "When I let her in, don't forget to call her Dora, as I'd much prefer that to her own chosen nickname of Tonks."

We let the young lady in, and she stood nervously waiting in the foyer with her purse in her hands and her nose and hair constantly changing patterns as we welcomed her within.

I decided to be kind to her.

"Dora, you don't mind if I call you Dora do you?" I rushed on before she could give an answer, leading her within to set her down in one of our plush chairs. "You are here because I have heard, through certain sources, how you can be trusted with certain delicate responsibilities, and the fact of the matter is that Harry Potter is now my ward," I'd been surprised, astonished rather, at the extensive paperwork Albus had produced on that subject, all fully filed, notarized and completed with nothing I could do about it that I could tell. How he did so is still a question for another day. "And we were both concerned over his safety, but also his education. You've recently graduated Hogwarts, correct?" I seated myself opposite her and began the interview.

She had brought both her OWL and NEWT results, and a surprised and hurried seeming pile of recommendations from various teachers, including Albus, all of which were favorable, although I noted there was nothing from Snape in that stack, so I mentioned it. "I note there is nothing here from your Potions Professor. Care to tell me why?"

Tonks flushed and obviously struggled with herself as she sought for an answer. "Professor Snape," her hair turned bright puce and she fought down a grimace, rather unsuccessfully I might add. "He... doesn't care for me much."

"Good!" I surprised her with a bright smile, standing up and laying aside the papers as I did so, reaching across the coffee table for her hand. "That says more about your excellent character than all the rest combined! Snape hates all of the best people I've ever known. Congratulations, you're hired!"

The lovely metamorph was dumbfounded, complete caught off guard by my pronouncement, while Harry was snickering from where he'd been watching in the background. The story would be all over Hogwarts tomorrow over how Tonks had gotten a job on the strength of Snape hating her alone. That would, oddly enough, make the bastard's future classes that much more tolerable as future students overheard and spread that story around.

For my part, I already knew enough about her from the books to know that I wanted to hire her. So I felt free to indulge myself in a moment of flair.

I shook my head as if clearing if of unpleasant thoughts. "I don't know what I'd do if I liked anyone Snape did. But if he hates you, that's enough for me! You must be a good person. His favorites are all people I'd despise even if he didn't like them. So if he can't stand you, that's as solid a recommendation of your character as anyone ought to require. You start tomorrow. Is there anything you need before you begin your duties?"

"Um," Tonks gulped, trying to get a hold of herself as her hair started settling down to a lovely shade of green. "What... exactly are my duties?"

"Why, to protect and teach Harry, of course!" I replied, speaking grandly. "He needs a tutor proficient on Hogwarts subjects to help him improve his skills and knowledge base there, and you easily qualify for that. He also needs a bodyguard, an adult able to use magic and who can be with him at all times he is out of doors. Basically, we are hiring you to be his older sister. Look out for him, make sure people don't take advantage of him - he is very ignorant about certain things and is not very good at dealing with people yet. Despite his bravery concerning Dark Lords he is still fairly shy and reserved when it comes to ordinary people. Teach him what you can about that. But also, he has been kept in a cupboard for much of his life and needs to know about life in general. Take him places, show him around, have FUN! And teach him how to do the same, while doing your best to shore up his weak points."

Tonks' face had been growing in confidence, her apprehension draining away as I said this, and by the time I reached the end she looked confident and eager to get going on her new project.

"Your salary will include room and board." I then named a figure that clearly impressed her. "Sadly, because of the nature of your duties we cannot spare a great of time off. However, you may choose one day each week to have for yourself, to visit family and so on. I ask only that you let us know a day or so ahead of time to aid us in arranging schedules. Otherwise, you will be on call just about like any other responsible elder sibling. Should Harry ever wake up screaming from nightmares, then you or I will be rolling out of our beds to comfort him. And since I have appointments and requirements on my time fairly often, and will regularly be required to be at my best, especially as I take on the Hogwarts DADA professorship next year, most often the person among us who could spare to lose some sleep to comfort Harry would be you. But since the sleep lost would also be his, you could afford to catch up when he does."

I could see they were both surprised and impressed by this, and Tonks also showed some reaction to my announcing I'd be DADA professor next year.

Harry already knew, of course.

I shrugged. "Otherwise, play with him. Teach him how to act around girls. Show him how to use those toys we bought him yesterday. Go flying with him, we have a few excellent brooms. Show him how to have parties, and while you are doing all of that, make sure that whatever he missed out on learning this year he catches up on. Also, one other thing, two actually."

I saw I had both of their attentions. Good. "The first thing is, Harry is going to have a number of secrets. Keep them. If I find the Ministry or the papers or even Albus Dumbledore learned anything about Harry from you, you will be fired and I'll do my best to blacken your career from then on. And. Don't. You. Think. I. WON'T!"

I could see I'd surprised them both with my vehemence. Now was the time to sooth that wound so it became a warning and not an error on my part. I gave a sigh and a smile, relaxing my posture so they would feel comforted and reassured. "I'm not the kind of guy who would do such a thing lightly, so I reserve that only for a willing betrayal of us on your part. You are being trusted with everything that Harry is. Information of that sort can easily destroy a person, even without meaning to, and there are many who would do so for their own personal gain. So, all I am asking is, don't be a tool for those people. I won't tolerate a spy who intends to report upon us to anyone, it doesn't matter who, or what they say their reasons are. Even well-meaning people like Dumbledore can be blinded by their own needs, or a desire to manipulate a situation by moving people around as if on a chess board. It is, sadly, an all-too-common failing for those who have gained positions of power. I am not saying that Albus would do so," well, not overtly, not yet, because neither of these two would believe me at this point. "But you are to treat him as though he would in any case. Part of that is from my own apprehension, due to the fact that Albus trusts Snape, and shares secrets with him, while Snape doesn't like any person in this room, and may go out of his way to harm any one of us."

Okay, I could see both of them accepting that point. Excellent. I gave them both a considerate nod. "Very good. Now the first secret you will have to conceal is that Harry is a parcelmouth."

Tonks jumped just like she'd just been stabbed by a pin, while Harry looked confused. I turned to address him. "A parcelmouth is a person who can speak to snakes. It is considered a Dark Gift, one of those things like using a killing curse, people just automatically assume anyone who does it is evil. They are wrong, about the parcelmouth part at least. But that doesn't stop them from assuming so. It is one of those kind of things that if it gets out to the general public your image goes from that of a hero to a potential villain. You won't be any less famous, but people would hate and fear you instead of liking or looking up to you. Do you understand?"

Looking a touch frightened, he nodded, only to immediately disprove that understanding he'd just claimed to ask, "Why would they think talking to snakes is evil?"

I chuckled. "Because the vast majority of people to have that gift WERE evil. Just like if every redhead you ever met tried to rob or kill your friends, you'd hate redheads. And, for a while, both the English and the Scots DID hate each other! Because they'd fought so many wars against each other that was the impression each culture had about the other. But the point is, this is one of those reactions that people get deep down in their guts where they don't do much thinking about it. First, they react with hate and fear, and only then do they try to find excuses for having that reaction in the first place. In your case they could well imagine you'd defeated Voldemort not to save anyone, as they feel now, but because you saw him as a rival. Which is ridiculous. You were one year old, more concerned about sucking your toes than conquest. But people are, sadly, rarely rational about these sorts of feelings, or very logical when thinking up excuses for them."

I could see now that my discourse to Harry had soothed Tonks, which was as much a part of the purpose for giving it as to edify Harry, of course.

Harry actually had the sense to ask a good question as he struggled to accept this. "So, who were those parcelmouths that everyone fears so?"

I raised my head, gazing down on him fondly. "Salazar Slytherin, for one. His descendants all shared that gift with him, also, and the most recent example from that, and only remaining one actually, is Voldemort himself. You actually get your gift from him. When he tried to kill you, you not only turned his spell back on him, you stole some of his abilities. That is one of them. So even though you are not evil, the person you get the gift from is, and people aren't terribly happy about reminders of him. President Eisenhower may have contributed greatly to the defeat of Hitler, but it wouldn't have made anyone very happy if from then on he'd begun walking around in Hitler's uniform. Do your very best to avoid even the appearance of evil, and keep your trophies to yourself. I wouldn't even tell my friends about that one."

"How would they even know?" Harry was shaking his head in lack of understanding.

I favored him with a condescending smile. "When a parcelmouth speaks to a snake he hisses. Everyone around you could hear. To a speaker, it sounds just like his native language, and indeed most don't even know at first they aren't speaking normally. It takes some effort to distinguish snake language from their own, and if they aren't trying or don't know how to tell they miss the subtle differences. I would suggest you simply avoid talking to any snakes. It's not like they have terribly interesting conversations anyway."

Tonks had now seen Harry's ignorance and confusion over this issue, so she did her job and slipped into 'big sister' mode, scooting over to where she could grab and pull him down next to her and hug him, stroking his hair. "Don't let it trouble you, Harry. I've got cousins who've got red hair. The rest of the family dyes it, so nobody has to know."

She smiled, and I grinned too as it became plain that her joke got through to Harry and he seemed very much relieved by the levity. Good.

"Speaking of hair," I broke in, now reminded of the subject. "I am reminded of my second point. I believe that Harry has another rare and special gift, one that you may share with him. Dora, is there any way you can test another person to see if they are a Metamorph?"

She blinked at me several times. Then her hair changed color again and her nose lengthened. "Oh! Yes, but it's supposed to be called..."

"A metamorphamagus. Yes, I know. However, adding that 'magus' suffix to a perfectly good and distinctive word like metamorph not only makes it too difficult and cumbersome to say ordinarily, but also seems the height of unnecessary, when you consider that no one without magic could do it."

I smiled for her.

She snorted. "Alright. Yes, I could do it, but mostly people just look for signs, like changing the color of your hair, or whatever."

"And Harry has given those already." I favored her with a small bow to show I'd already thought of that. "For example, his aunt hated his hairstyle and did her best to shave it off more than once. It grew back overnight. Also, people speak of him having his father's unruly hair, but I know for a fact that James had to keep running his hands through it to tease it to stand up, yet nothing Harry does can make his lie down. Also, Harry? Have you had any haircuts from the school barber at Hogwarts?"

He blinked twice in confusion. "There's a barber at Hogwarts?"

I shared a knowing look with Tonks.

"So," Dora asked, "You didn't get a haircut this year? How long is your hair, compared to how long it was when you got to school?"

Harry shrugged dismissively. "About the same, I guess."

Tonks was nodding. "You're a metamorph. In fact, the signs are pretty obvious. I just got a wild streak in my hair one day, but my parents noticed."

I heaved a sigh. "Unfortunate, but Harry's former guardians were opposed to magic in all of its forms, and beat him for any perceived 'freakishness' on his part. So I don't feel any surprise they didn't cultivate this gift."

Tonks' face set in a hard, determined, expression before she tried to put a cover on over it and turned to me, trying to shift the attention off of Harry. "So," she asked of me brightly. "How long does it take you to curl that mess of hair in the morning?"

I opened my mouth to tell her exactly how long, then froze. I hadn't been curling my hair for weeks, ever since I got here, practically. In fact, I could only recall doing so that first morning when I'd only just arrived. After that I had been far too busy studying magic and accomplishing things to spend an hour each morning getting my appearance just right.

I turned to look in a mirror. My predecessor had several of them about so one was always handy. I put my hands to my face, testing it, then touched my hair, confirming what I'd thought.

Everything looked just right.

So not only had I been skipping my personal makeover sessions for a solid two weeks, but I'd been missing those extra moments when normally I'd have had to be slipping out to touch up things in the middle of a day. I carried a pouch full of grooming tools on my person for just that purpose.

But I looked fine, better than usual, actually. I had all of those tiny touches, demanding details and fussy refinements that even Lockhart skipped out on except for special occasions, as even for him they were too much effort to indulge in with any regularity.

Seeing my shock, as I hadn't been concealing it, both of them looked at me with far more interest than before. "Do you curl your hair?" Harry asked.

"I used to." I responded. Still exploring I touched one of those curls that took forever to get 'just so' and instead of ruining that look as per usual, it went and bounced back to 'perfect' right away.

That curl was close to twenty minutes of work. Or it used to be.

But... I hadn't had to do a 'beauty session' since that transfusion of Harry's blood. Okay, I guess that made it pretty obvious where the change had come from.

Well, magical people were always on about the importance of blood. Perhaps now I had an inkling as to why, as I felt positive from Lockhart's experiences that he'd never had a touch of the metamorph power before. Yet Harry did, and now I did, and the only link I could see was that small transfusion.

I turned back to face my companions, too surprised to school my expression to have any special meaning. "But these last two weeks or so I haven't had time. But everything looks perfect anyway. Look." I pulled a lock out straight and let it go. It rebounded right back to where it was. I smiled. "That once would have fallen limp without a touch of magic creams to hold it just so, and pulling it out of shape would have ruined the holding effect of those creams."

I chuckled, moving to sit by them. "Well, I am now facing considerable savings on the beauty creams and cosmetics department. Whatever shall I do? Some of my favorite shops may go out of business without my support."

They laughed, which was fine, but I'd been serious. My predecessor spent more on beauty treatments than I felt comfortable parting with for rent.

Settling down beside them, I folded my hands in my lap and got serious. "Very well then. We, all three of us, may have that talent. I couldn't think of anything more welcome. Dora, we are all going to have to go out for a full set of photographs, maybe even a portrait or two, before we begin training."

"Why?" Harry asked.

I cocked my head in an 'it's so obvious' way. "Well, look at Dora. She has a bit of trouble staying with one face, so it seems. Also, her body is so fluid that she trips over her own limbs sometimes. But, to be useful as a disguise, we want to be able to shift seemlessly and effortlessly between forms, yet still be able to hold those firmly when we enter one. Thus, we want to not only be able to learn how to change, we must become experts on certain shapes so we can assume those quickly, yet keep them stable and do them the same way each time. And the very first shape we'll want to master after we learn how to change is our own. Thus, pictures and so on to help us get it right."

Tonks looked quite surprised at my revelation.

I put my arm around her reassuringly. "Anyone can be clumsy when their arms and their legs are a subtly different length each day. You see it in little kids all of the time. When they are growing up so fast their minds don't catch up with their body's changes, they trip and fall almost constantly. You may not even realize why it is happening that way. So, do you have any pictures of yourself before you learned to control the change?"

She nodded. "Yes. My mother has been crazy about taking photos of me, since as early as I can remember."

"Good." I patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Then you can not only help us to master our newfound metamorph abilities, you can practice being Dora at the same time. We'll each want to set up a few alternate faces and identities as well. As all three of us are metamorphs, it is best if we can each of us join in our disguises together. So we'd best pick matching identities."

"What do you mean?" Tonks and Harry both asked.

I waved to indicate Harry. "Well, let me step back a moment and say that Harry has spent most of his life wishing he was normal. Now, most of that may be due to his relatives abusing him for being 'abnormal'. And I am sure that somewhere down in his deepest feelings he got convinced that if only he was normal the abuse would stop and he'd be happy. That's something to deal with later, and I've got an idea or two that should help. I'll take a moment to say that, Harry, normal does not make people happy. Happiness comes only from relationships with people you love and respect. Power, fame and money do not make people happy, but neither does being normal. Most ordinary folks spend their lives wishing they were somehow special, like us, while most folks who have something that makes them special spend much of their time wishing they were normal. It is one of life's great ironies, and a lesson that everyone has to learn eventually is just to like and accept themselves as they are." I snorted in earnest amusement. "Then, one of the next great ironies, is that no sooner do you accept yourself for what you are, than you ought to immediately work to improve yourself. It's almost funny how things work out that way. But back to the topic at hand."

I leaned forward and interlaced my fingers. "Now, say we want to go out in public without being recognized. We could throw on any old faces, and that would do for the short term. But people ask questions, just as part of daily interactions and meeting new people that we'd have to answer, and sooner or later we'd trip ourselves up by getting our stories wrong. That would reveal that we CAN disguise ourselves as metamorphs, and teach everyone to look for those signs that would reveal us if they want to find us. So that doesn't work for the long term, and so it is far easier to have one disguise that you use for doing the same thing over and over. That way we can get our stories straight, and won't be new people all of the time that those we deal with will feel that they will have to introduce themselves to."

I yawned, surprising myself, and was shortly echoed by both Harry and Dora. "Well," I stood up, stretching, after realizing just how late it was. "We have an appointment to keep with Albus in the morning. Dora, you can stay here if you like. It would be a little cramped, Harry's already got the guestroom. But you can sleep in my study if you like. It's got a nice, wide couch in there I've often napped on myself. But you can also stay tonight with your family if you prefer. Our only stipulation is we will be needing to see you around eight in the morning. Once Albus delivers on the home he's promised us we'll expect you to be staying most of your nights with us, except on your days off, just so you can be here if Harry has night troubles or anything. Fair deal?"

She nodded, also standing up and gathering in her papers. "I'll stay the night with my folks if that's alright."

"Yes, it is. Just make sure to be here before the Headmaster comes to spirit us away. And speaking of him, did school get out today?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "The Headmaster took me out a day early so he could have time to convince you in private. He said doing it this way, we'd avoid the crowds."

I pursed my lips, considering. "Yes, he had a point there. And Dora?"

She shrugged comfortably, at ease with us already when she'd been a bundle of nerves when she arrived. I was glad for that change. "You sent me a job offer, so I approached him for a chance to leave early for my interview. It doesn't make much difference, I didn't miss anything. The Hogwarts train leaves tomorrow. All I would've skipped out on were some goodbyes, and I made sure to make those early so I wouldn't miss out on this."

I nodded, covering a second yawn. "Well, then we can probably expect him a short while after the train departs from Hogwarts. He may have things to clear up after, so call it an hour later. But we can spare you for the day. People don't graduate from school every day of their lives. Go and see your friends, as there are sure to be parties and celebrations and things of that sort. Will that be a problem?"

Dora shook her head. "No."

"Good." I confirmed. "Goodnight then. I'll show you out, and we can get you a set of keys made in the morning, after we are done with Albus."

Nymphadora Tonks would go back to school and tell all of her friends the news about her new job, working for two VERY famous people, and that she'd been hired on the single recommendation of being hated by Snape. That story was so good, even without the Harry Potter angle, to get repeated by those friends to other friends, and so spread through the whole student population, who'd go on to share it with their parents, who'd tell their friends, and the day after the Hogwarts train everyone in the magical world would know.

Faster than the speed of gossip was indeed a very high rate of travel.

But Tonks was careful about not spreading anything we didn't want others to know about on her day off, or any other day for that matter, so had already begun in our long task of keeping secrets together.

I awoke that eventful morning to the smell of breakfast being prepared. Throwing on a robe over my pajamas, a set of light clothes that wouldn't look terribly out of place if I had to go fleeing out into the streets due to an attack in the dead of night, I got my shower, spent a moment looking in the mirror over my now 'perfect by default' appearance, then went out to speak to Harry.

He was almost pathetically eager to please, and had set a breakfast fit for four, most of which centered around my place setting.

I gave the boy a hug.

He actually got tears in his eyes, and held on desperately, so I lengthened out the hug by a decent margin before I released him. As I'd thought, even so he was reluctant to let go, so I gave him another quick squeeze to reassure him, then we parted to take our seats.

"Harry," I spoke before I'd fully seated myself. "I want you to know that you, and your happiness, are important to me. You do not have to buy my approval with work. Now, that said, I am in favor of chores for children and think they teach a great deal. However, I also think that the Dursleys overworked you. So do not think that I will be having you do as much as they did. We can come up with a fair list of chores later. Agreed?"

He smiled brightly, the happiest I'd ever seen him.

That puzzled me for a moment, and after I'd said a prayer asking a blessing on the food I thought it over while we began serving ourselves, and passing more than a few dishes over to Harry's side of the breakfast table.

Really, who had ever really given the kid any approval? Kids need that, it was like mental vitamins, in a way. There were certain ways they could not grow until they had some, and a long-term shortage could be, heck, would be, detrimental to their development.

You couldn't pick a kid who'd suffered through less approval growing up. And, now that I thought about it, there wasn't much at school for him either. That fraud of a Potions teacher (Rowling herself had been quoted as saying that Snape does not teach Potions, he teaches how to deal with people like Snape) had abused him and so was an active negative, while I suspected that the rest of the staff was endeavoring to stay carefully neutral, lest they be accused of favoritism to the Boy Who Lived - a suspicion I felt warranted by the fact that Harry had not latched on to any of them like a barnacle and refused to let go, which he WOULD to any source of affection he could see!

Actually... Blast! He'd treated Dumbledore that way, in spite of seeing him only once or twice a year. In my mind that confirmed a speculation that I'd once heard in another fanfic. "Take care to raise a kid in an environment without love, then if you show him a little affection he'll be your willing slave for life."

Whether or not such was Rowling's intent, the speculation can be confirmed on every point. Harry did grow up in an environment without love, and he did show Dumbledore unwavering loyalty, even after the man was dead.

What was scaring me was the possibility that Dumbledore might've arranged it that way on purpose. I'd read some very good arguments, going through point by point building a case that A) Dumbledore had a spy on Harry in the form of one Arabella Figg, B) said spy once admitted to Harry's face knowing how those Dursleys had felt about him, C) you can't call yourself much of a spy to know of that level of hatred and not go that one, tiny step further to find out about their actions. And D) the whole point of a spy is to discover information and pass it along to its master.

Therefore, Albus had perfect knowledge of the abuse of the Dursleys. He could not have avoided being aware of that situation, by the information Rowling had already given us.

Said case continues, in that E) The Dursleys were cowards, as proven by their moving Harry to the smallest bedroom when they felt that wizards might be watching the house. So their behavior could have been amended by putting even the slightest pressure on them. F) Dumbledore, as the head of the magical court system, could have brought such pressure to bear with ease. All culminating in G) The man had done nothing of the sort.

As had been pointed out by Lionheart, Dudley was his mother's son. He had the blood of his mother in him, therefore he had the blood of Lily also. The only reason that Harry was forced to remain in that environment was to dwell in a home with his mother's blood. So all you had to do was declare the couple unfit parents and take BOTH children away to be raised by a decent family, and Harry would STILL have grown up dwelling with his mother's blood!

And, when you come right down to it, the Dursleys spoiling of Dudley hadn't done that kid any more favors than their abuse of Harry had for him. Both kids were very badly messed up by being raised in that environment.

No, that situation had been FUBAR (Fouled up beyond all recognition) and our beloved Headmaster had not only created it, he had actively sustained it by sending Harry back year after year. I suspected it ranged from possible to likely that Albus might have protected that situation, making certain that no one else got involved, as they might break it by removing Harry.

So, all with the best intentions, Albus had been party to that abuse, and it was undeniable that he had later reaped the rewards of loyalty by being the first person to show Harry any kindness.

It wasn't that I didn't like the man, or believe that Rowling had intended for him to be only the best, but what she had written left him, on analysis, highly suspect, as his behaviors just didn't seem to match his intentions.

What JKR meant and what she wrote didn't match up very well on this, and some other, issues.

Oh, well.

We met up with Albus directly after breakfast. His body language was guarded and reserved around me, but then I had rather backed him into a corner with my demands about removing Snape... but I could quickly see that wasn't so much his problem (although it WAS a problem he had with me) as my having shown Harry some basic, elemental kindness, and gotten the boy attached to me.

Ah! I could see. Now I was his rival for Harry's loyalties. No, he wouldn't like that a bit, would he? And I could see now where the crux of the Snape matter came into this issue. Through my having connected Snape's abusive behavior to Albus, in front of Harry, by pointing out the Headmaster's protection of that villain, I had cost Albus vital points with the boy.

No, I could see how Dumbledore would be less than happy with me after that.

So it was without much conversation between he and I as we set out to find and achieve the return of Slughorn.

Our interview with the professor went depressingly similar to the books. I made no significant contribution to it, Harry carried the bulk of the man's conversion by simply asking innocent questions.

Well enough. I was glad to have it done.

One thing I did add to the occasion was, after a bit of praise and ingratiating myself properly once the man had been converted, was to confess to my own sub-par Potions skills, and on the strength of that humility, ask for and receive a copy of his memories for his last year teaching that subject. Every period including every year of students, plus a few side projects, although it cost me a bit more than the basket of candied pineapple I'd brought with us.

However, it was priceless. One of the excuses I made to gain it was I wished to gain some understanding of his teaching skills in hopes of furthering my own. And I was rather new to the subject of teaching, at least from the end of an instructor.

Well, flattery will get you places, and it got me there. He gave me memories I had to carry out in a bucket, but it was well worth every cost I'd paid for it.

As we were about to depart and go our separate ways after this successful incident, I turned to Dumbledore, breaking our mutual silence to ask, "Have you had any success talking with Nicholas Flamel and his wife about donating memories for our history class?"

Some of the old twinkle returned to his eyes. "Alas, no. However, I have lent some thought to your suggestion about my archiving some of my own past experiences. Perhaps those would do by themselves."

I nodded. "Doubtless they will. But I was rather hoping for the other as well."

Dumbledore frowned, looking around, then speaking softly, trying not to be overheard by Harry. "My friend Nicholas and I are having some difficulties. I am afraid he is still rather upset with me over a recent disagreement. We may have to wait before making our request again."

I frowned. "Albus," I chided. "It's not like we have much time to convince him. If what you told Harry is true, then his stone is destroyed and they will not be around for much longer. Nicholas and his wife are several times as old as you are, and their pasts cover that much longer a time frame. This presents us with a problem, as this is a chance we will never see again. Once they die, those years are lost to us. Is there any chance you can get me in to where I might speak to them?" I flashed him a brilliantly charming smile. "I have been known to be convincing. And if his disagreement is with you, then perhaps another envoy can convince him to do this for the future of the school."

He nodded, saying, "You are right. I will try. Expect an opportunity later in the week," before taking his leave of us.

Taking Harry by the hand, we went through a floo connection to our current apartment, and I gave him some tips for proper floo travel along the way.

No sooner had we arrived then I got accosted by an owl. Accepting its letter, and wondering why it hadn't gotten dropped in the fan mail stack with the others, I opened it to find, to my astonishment, that it was from Remus Lupin, turning me down on my offer for an assistant teaching slot!

The letter said that he was going to devote his time in the coming year to assisting his friend Sirius in his recovery.

Well, my plans just got altered.

"Come along, Harry!" I called, "We are going to be making a quick stop by St. Mungos, the magical hospital, to look in on your father's best friends."

He came running.