Hello all. I've been attempting to finish this fic for years. I'm sure you probably all noticed. In my most recent attempt, I went back and re-read it (or some of it) and it was really fucking painful to read. I am amazed that so many of you seem to like it, because my writing was such trash.

I'd like to think I've improved since then (I've been published in a couple of magazines since then, so probably?). So here's my attempt to fix and finish this fic.

Summary: When the curse on the position of DADA Teacher claims another victim (not that anyone, except maybe Malfoy, was sorry to see Umbridge go) and as the war with Voldemort escalates, Dumbledore decides that he needs to bring new blood to the faculty. After the farce in the Department of Mysteries, Harry needs training if he is going to face Voldemort and live. So the Headmaster calls upon the Summer Coven to help him. When these five American witches fill gaps in the faculty at Hogwarts, new information is revealed, ties are formed, & Harry, getting more powerful each day, just may have found the power the Dark Lord knows not.

Yes this is a MarySue, but I'd also like to think that the Coven are fully developed enough to compensate.

It's canon until the end of OotP. Instead of Sirius dying, Ginny falls through the veil. And Lucius never gets arrested. This obviously means that canon pairings and plot lines for HBP and DH are Sir Not Appearing In This Fic. Also, fair warning: Ronald Weasley is not treated kindly.

Alright, so let's try this again…

Chapter One

It had been two years since the Dark Lord's return and corresponding with Mole had not gotten easier. In fact, if pressed, Ariadne would admit that reading his letter was in her top ten least favorite tasks. Even so, she pulled out a roll of parchment and smoothed it over her desk. Mole's letter sat judgmentally at her elbow as she stared down at the blank page.

Ariadne blew her fringe out of her eyes and sighed. Resigning herself to the task at hand, she dipped her quill into its inkwell. She watched as the silky liquid filled the pen and considered the incomplete bits of information that Mole had included in his last letter. Usually, he was meticulous about offering her as much detail as possible.

This last letter, however, was full of ominous warnings and whispers of Death Eaters without any real substance. She tapped the quill against the edge of the inkwell to clear it.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Glancing over her shoulder at the sound, Ariadne was greeted by a pair of beady black eyes staring at her from the window ledge. She dropped the pen back in the well and went to relieve the owl of its burden. She scratched its head absently and fed it a treat from the bowl on the windowsill, as she flipped over the envelope.

Mistress Ariadne Aureus

The Master Bedroom

9 Summer Street

Salem, MA 01970

USA

It was written in brilliant green ink. She groaned out loud. "As if this day could get any worse. Bloody Dumbledore." She slit the envelope open with one long nail and slipped the letter out. More green ink:

Dear Ariadne,

I would like, once again, to extend to you and your sisters an offer of employment. For some time now, I have thought it necessary to implement certain measures at this school in order to keep the students and faculty safe and to prepare the community for the war with Voldemort. The art of Coven Magic has long since been lost to our small island and I believe that its revival will be of great assistance to our young Harry in his fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Your many other talents and abilities, and those of your sisters, would also serve both the school and its students well. I beg you and your sisters to join me for a short time in order to discuss the terms of your employment. I thank you for your time.

Warmest regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

P.S. I am rather fond of Watermelon Sherbet

Ariadne sighed again. Another offer of employment. "Haven't you done enough to us already, you old goat?" she muttered, glaring down at the letter. But the reference to Harry Potter had hit home, just as Dumbledore had intended. Setting her jaw, she shooed the owl away, shut the window, and turned on one booted heel to make her way downstairs.

It was earlier enough in the day that the others were still in the kitchen, in various stages of breakfasting. Olympia, Ariadne's right hand, sat at the center island with a steaming mug of tea, reading a stack of handwritten notecards. Like Ariadne, she was already fully dressed for the day, including her robes. She waved vaguely when Ariadne appeared in the doorway, without actually looking up from her notes.

Aurelia, their resident potion's expert, was dressed, but still wearing slippers. She stood, staring absently out the window at the old willow that dominated their front yard and buttering her toast. She didn't seem to hear Ariadne's approach, lost as she was in thoughts of the brews bubbling away upstairs in her laboratory.

Sitting at the antique table at the far end of the kitchen, Ekantika and Isoko were both still in their sleepwear and talking softly as they shared a newspaper. The diamond stud in Ekantika's nose flashed in the light as she laughed and pointed to some ridiculous photograph in the paper. Isoko leaned over to see, her silky black hair falling in a curtain over her shoulder.

"Good morning, Angels!" Ariadne stopped in the doorway to survey the group.

"Good morning, Charlie." They chorused back, all turning to her.

"We got another job offer from Dumbledore this morning, ladies." She moved forward around the island and snagged the toast from Aurelia's hands, ignoring the other woman's squawk of protest. "Only this time, he might have a point."

Olympia furrowed her brow, watching Ariadne's body language, the tense line of her shoulders. Ekantika snorted. "Like hell. That old goat's been after us for years. What makes now any different?"

Ariadne shook her head and chewed her toast thoughtfully. Swallowing, she said, "Harry Potter."

Olympia's expression cleared. "You think we should hear him out, don't you?" Ariadne smiled at Olympia's perceptiveness and nodded. "Because of Harry Potter?"

"That and because of the uneasy letters I've been getting from the network. Mole's latest is…disturbing. I'm wondering if Dumbledore's right to want us to teach the Potter boy how to defend himself."

Isoko frowned. "And there's no one in England who is qualified to do that?" Ariadne gave her a pointed look and she relented. "Alright, fair. I suppose we are the best suited."

Aurelia snagged the letter from where it peaked out of Ariadne's pocket and read it aloud. "Yeah," She finished. "I agree with Ari. We should go."

Olympia nodded and glanced at the table. Ariadne took the letter back and tucked it away. "Anyone drastically opposed to the idea? We don't have to take the job, remember. We'd just be going to listen to his pitch."

Isoko shrugged. Ekantika rolled her eyes. "I'm alright with going if we can fly. We haven't had a good, long-distance broom ride in ages."

"Works for me. Sound good?" There were a round of nods and mumbled yeses. "Let's go back then. Looks like we've got an ocean to cross."

Olympia didn't move as the others filed out. Ariadne crossed to the island and leaned on her elbows against the marble countertop. "What's on your mind, friend?"

Olympia shook out her brown curls and sighed. "You're tense. I can see it in your shoulders."

Ariadne snorted. "I'm always tense."

"This is worse than usual. What's wrong? What are you not telling us?"

Ariadne exhaled and dropped her head to rest on her arms. The position stretched her back out, but made her shoulders ache. She ignored it. I'm too old for this kind of stress. "Nothing specific. I just…I have a terrible feeling about the way the situation in England is going. I suspect…I fear that it's going to tip into all out warfare soon."

Olympia shook her head. "It was always going to come to that. You know this. Are you worried that we're going to get reactivated?"

Ariadne nodded, her forehead pressed against her arms. "If we get reactivated, it's going to be worse than last time. The goddamn bastard just won't stay dead and I think that's what's worrying me the most."

Ariadne raised her head and met Olympia's gaze, her grey eyes stormy. Olympia pulled her in for a quick, reassuring hug. "We'll take care of it. It's what we've always done. It's what we'll always do. Let's go pack."

Ariadne smiled, feeling some of the tension release. Olympia always knew exactly what to say.

They went upstairs.