I'm not JK Rowling but would be flattered if you thought so!

As his brother and grandfather walked away, Albus grabbed his grandmother's hand more tightly. "This way, Grandma," he told her, happy to be her guide today.

At the end of the corridor a woman stood by a door to a classroom that buzzed with noise behind her. "Miss Morrison, this is my grandma, Mrs. Weasley," Albus said politely.

Molly put out her hand. "A pleasure to meet you! Please, call me Molly."

"I'm so glad you could come today," Miss Morrison replied, smiling. She was short woman with blond, wavy hair and lively blue eyes peering out of a slightly scarred but friendly face. She seemed full of energy. Molly liked her immediately. "I've been looking forward to meeting Albus' family. I wanted to tell someone how impressed I am by his awareness of current events."

Molly smiled back, a bit confused but hiding it. Maybe Ginny and Harry talked about muggle news in the house, even though she'd never heard them doing so. At least she hoped the teacher meant muggle news and that Albus hadn't been mentioning something from the Daily Prophet. "Ah, are you referring to anything in particular?"

Miss Morrison glanced down the hall to make sure no more grandparents needed to be greeted at the moment. As the entered the sunny classroom, Molly saw that some other grandparents were already there. Miss Morrison looked around to make sure none of the others needed her right away and then motioned to her old oak desk which had a guitar on the chair behind it. The three walked over to it, Albus still holding his grandmother's hand. The teacher picked up a week old newspaper and showed Molly the front page picture of the newly-elected prime minister leaving 10 Downing Street with some aides in the background.

"When I showed this to the class last week, I asked them who the man in the photo was. I got some interesting answers! Albus was the only one who was able to identify it as a picture of our new prime minister."

Molly looked more carefully. In the background, Kingsley Shacklebolt could be seen. It looked like he was about to leave, but because the picture was still it was hard to tell; the still muggle photographs could be confusing. Molly smiled. That's who Albus had identified.

Miss Morrison hesitated and went on. "Albus mentioned that you'd had dinner with the prime minister in the past?"

Molly looked up, trying to decide how to answer. "Well, actually we're good friends with one of his aides. I'm sure that's who Albus was referring to."

Miss Morrison looked slightly disappointed. "That makes more sense." She gave a brief laugh. "I'd almost been hoping that we'd be able to get a letter from the prime minister for the class."

Molly smiled. "I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem. Our friend has quite a bit of influence in the government. Just let me know who it should come to." She thought to herself how Kingsley might even be willing to suggest a personal visit the next time the muggle prime minister was in the area.

Miss Morrison smiled. "That would be wonderful! I'll write up the information and give it to you before you leave." She looked up at the door. "If you'll excuse me, though, right now I have some more grandparents to meet."

"Of course! Albus can show me around."

Albus took Molly over to the window. On the sill was a row of flowers in small pots. "We planted these a couple of weeks ago," said Albus. "See, this one's mine."

Albus' plant drooped to one side. "I think you need to water it, dear," Molly suggested.

"That takes too long. Grandma, can't you …" Albus looked around and lowered his voice, "you know, just make it bigger?"

Molly gently hugged him. "We don't have to use magic for everything," she whispered to her grandson. "Sometimes we can just use muggle ways."

Albus looked at her as he thought about what she said. "Mom and Dad say that sometimes magic can't be used because it would give us away. Is that what you mean?"

"Partly. But sometimes even if we can use it we shouldn't."

Albus nodded seriously and then looked around. "Grandma, do you want to see where we read?" Before she could answer she found herself tugged over to a small nook filled with children's books. A half dozen children, sitting or laying on cushions, had books in front of them. Cushions were scattered on the plush rug and a plush rocking chair was in the corner. "What's your favorite story, dear?" Molly asked Albus.

"Well, none of them are as good as yours," Albus whispered. Then, speaking normally, he said, "I like the stories with magic in them." He looked over to a large brown-haired boy as if he expected something to happen.

The boy looked up and rolled his eyes. "Dork! There's no such thing as magic." Molly narrowed her eyes.

"So you say," Albus calmly responded, and looked at his grandmother.

Molly sighed and gave Albus a wink. "Well, we can still read stories about it. Albus, can you pick one out?"

Albus picked up one with a house made of what looked like crackers and candy on the cover. Molly sat down on the rocking chair and took the book in her hand. "My, what's this one about?"

"It's about how two children almost get eaten by an ugly wicked witch!" a thin boy who was nearby informed her excitedly.

Molly looked at him sharply. "Of course I'll be happy to read it to you, but don't you have a story with a nice, pretty witch?"

A girl with short blond hair who hadn't appeared to be paying attention looked up. "But witches are ugly and wicked!" she declared confidently.

Molly sighed again. She would have to make sure Ginny and James talked to Albus about the wicked witch stereotype that so many muggles seemed to hold. She didn't want her children exposed to such prejudices which is why she had kept her children away from muggle schools. Ginny and James, though, had wanted their children to get to know their muggle neighbors. Molly looked at the girl. "I'm sure some are wicked, but others must be very nice and even pretty," she said, looked at Albus who smiled at her. "Just like there are good and bad people in every group." She thought for a moment. "In fact, would you like me to read you a story about a poor, misunderstood witch?"

The girl looked curious. "OK."

Molly reached into her purse, subtly waving her wand. She pulled out a copy of Babbitty Rabbitty and the Cackling Stump. "I just happened to have this with me." She looked around the small nook. The children were all looking at her expectantly. She smiled and sat back in the rocking chair. "Now, gather around if you want to hear the story."

XXX

When Miss Morrison was putting the books away that night, she paused when she saw one she didn't remember seeing before. She smiled as she flipped through it – it must have been hidden on one of the shelves. "Hmm," she mused to herself. "This is certainly different from the typical fairy tales the students usually hear!" She resolved to read it to entire class the next day, and instead of putting in it the bookcase she left it on her desk as she gathered up her belongings. She never noticed the branches of the tree on the cover giving her a small wave as if to say good-by as she turned off the lights and shut the door behind her.

AN: Thanks to the role model for Mrs. Ackerly – you know who you are!