Posted February 3, 2016

SUMMARY: The final chapter in Champion of the Goddess, where a number of loose ends get tied up, namely the election, and Rasalas gets a bit of closure relating to an event which took place very early in the story.

ACT IV, EPISODE 3
FULL CIRCLE

July, 2007

"In the spirit of the Alpha and the Omega, in the way the Alpha was the Omega, and vice versa, he knew the beginning was also the end—and that the end was just another beginning."

- Sol Luckman, "Snooze: A Story of Awakening", 2014

July 1

The strange holographic creature appearing in the planetarium the previous afternoon had unsettled Rasalas, leaving him restless and unable to sleep well that night. Part of him wanted to write it off as some sort of glitch, but... the way it had spoken... it was unsettling at best, and at worst... a terrible omen.

For now, he decided to keep the encounter quiet, and give it more thought. No sense in getting everyone all worked up about something that could very well be nothing at all.

He pushed the distraction aside mid-afternoon, as both Ron and Ginny arrived along with Bill, thanks to Fawkes. That correlated with the arrival of the twins, spawning yet another impromptu party in Rasalas' yard.

"Y'know what you really need here, is a Quidditch pitch," said Ron, "We have almost enough players, right."

"We'd likely have to disguise it since we do still have non-magical people come onto the property sometimes."

"On Labour Day," Ginny remembered.

"Yes, exactly."

"Well, Quidditch and soccer—I mean, football, they share a similar field, right?" Aaron questioned, "I mean, dimension-wise."

"'cept that the field's an oval shape," Rasalas remembered, "And the goal posts are high-up. But it's do-able. I can get the contractor back."

"Put it where the sh-sh-shop and the back lot used to be," Ryan suggested, "It's b-b-bare already."

Rasalas gave a nod. "I'll need your mum's permission too, but I'll make a fire-call in the morning."

"And something else we really didn't do... I mean, with all the distractions and crap... you did mention expanding the miniature railway," said Aaron, "It'd be really cool if we..."

"Now that would be a fun little project," Rasalas agreed, "Maybe set up a second station on this side of the road. Tell you what. I'm open to just about anything, and I'll foot the bill since it's on my side."

"W-w-we'll probably have to put a fence around the p-p-pool here, if you're gonna have people on the property. Y-y-you really don't wanna end up b-b-bein' sued because s-s-someone was being stupid."

"Though I do like it open, you're right. Though I think we can set things up so the fence is only in place when we're running a public event."

"Ever think of building your own engine?" Aaron asked.

"Not had the time. Maybe sometime down the road I might... for now I'll just help with the infrastructure."

"We'll likely need a water tower on this side, y-y-you know how fast we go through water, right. And the station's a b-b-b-brilliant plan. We could charge two different f-f-fares, right? One station to another, or r-r-round trip."

"It would make the conductor's job a bit interesting," Aaron agreed.

"Are... are you guys setting up the rides again this year?" Ginny wondered.

"Yeah, definitely," Ryan answered, "I'm g-g-getting more help from the ride enthusiast group, but we'll make it w-w-work."

"And I'll help cover the extra cost," Rasalas promised, "The steam show in September was one of the only memories I kept after my... well, you know. It's something I don't ever regret doing, because it brought me to where I am now. Without it..."

"You'd still be under Dumbledore's thumb," said Ron.

"Exactly. And who only knows where I would have ended up... dead more than likely. Voldemort still running rampant, possibly even in control of the ministry by this point.

"Dumbledore's heart was in the right place, but... his methods were completely wrong."

"Those matters have all been solved," said Accolon, "Perhaps it is time we put all of that in the past, and not continue to drag it into the present. Revisiting such dark times can only bring about insanity."

"Thing is... I can't just push those events aside. If only as a reminder that we can't ever let things get that bad, go that far. All of what we've done... I won't let the effort go to waste."

"But constantly bringin' it up, that ain't healthy," Brady argued, "Accolon's right."

July 4

After a number of discussions with the ministry, Brady's brother and mother were finally allowed to return home. Both Rasalas and Brady looked after the transportation, and on arrival, no one was surprised to find American Aurors already present at both locations.

"Guessin' we'd best get used to it, mom," said Corey, "Brady's part of Ras' life."

"Well put, Mr. Gibson. The Department of Magic is still debating how to respond to Sir Peverell's new position and title within the wizarding world, but no matter the circumstance, no matter the decision, he is considered a very important person, whether he likes it or not," one of the Aurors explained.

"Meaning that, most certainly, those who are close friends of his are considered potential targets. Expect at least two of us to be present at all times, though we will try and be as unobtrusive as we possibly can. We would rather you be able to carry on with your normal lives with as little interruption as possible."

"However," the first picked up, "There will be times we will have to intervene. If there is some sort of security threat, whether it be here or not, we will have to take you into safety. It's a set of protocols set out by our department."

"I'll be making a connection back to my sanctuary as it is, so evacuation to a secure location will be rather quick and easy," said Rasalas.

"Your special chamber you've built into your residence," the second Auror said, to which Rasalas nodded.

"No way the bad guys are gettin' into it," said Brady.

"Mom, les' get settled," said Corey, "'an we can show Ras where he can stick his door."

"'an when we's done, I'm goin' flyin', an' don' tell me I can't," said Brady, leaving no room for argument.

"The pair of us will be in the air with you," said the first Auror, "We'll make sure additional security's brought to the house. The basic rule, is to let us know before you leave the residence, so we can compensate, and warn the Atlanta office."

"Office?" Betty wanted to know.

"The Auror office in Atlanta. DMLE has a field office in every state, ma'am."

It took only a few minutes for a door to be placed linking the Gibson residence to the sanctuary. Both American Aurors peered into the structure's foyer, but did not step through. However, Auror Jackson stepped through, and into the residence.

"Sir Rasalas, Sir Brady. Everything's been set up?"

"We're pretty much done," said Rasalas. "We're about to go flying. I think Brady's been wanting to do this since he learned about magic, and brooms, more specifically."

That earned Rasalas an elbow to the ribs.

"Prat."

"Shithead."

"I know you are, but what am I?" Rasalas smirked.

"Boys..." Betty scolded them.

"Uh. So, uh, I traditionally work protection detail," said Auror Jackson, "Is it acceptable here?"

"Perfectly," said the second Auror, "The department's already working closely with yours, so cross-jurisdiction shouldn't be a problem."

"Excellent. The ministry's being rather protective of our adopted hero of the wizarding world and all that," said Jackson, "My superiors would be rather upset I wasn't there when he needed protection."

Rasalas laughed. "Come on, Jackson. It's more like us pulling your asses out of the fire these days."

"Fair enough."

"Well? We goin' flyin' or not?" Brady wanted to know.

"Let me see if Ryan and Aaron might want to come," said Rasalas.

No surprise, the pair joined them, as did a few others. When they took to the air, it better-resembled a small squadron of aircraft—at least until Rasalas cast a special charm on everyone, which prevented anyone outside the party from seeing them. Or, they would be mistaken for a flock of large birds—geese or cranes—instead of people doing something that for non-magical folk, was physically impossible.

From the air, Rasalas quickly noted how close they were to Atlanta, the state capitol.

"Yeah, we could fly there easy," said Brady, "Prob'ly better we don'."

"And all of you are aware of certain places that are considered absolute no-no's for brooms," said Jackson.

"Airports," Aaron guessed.

"Exactly. Get too close an airport on the back of a broom, you'll find yourself under Auror escort, very quickly," said the first American Auror, "Fail to follow their instructions and you end up in a Department holding cell, answering some very tough questions."

"So nine-eleven's had an effect in the magical world too," Aaron guessed.

"Yeah, very much so," said the Auror, "The months following, the entire department went through a bunch of procedural changes. The DOM realized that terrorism wasn't just the realm of non-magicals—Voldemort being case-in-point."

"Much like our ministry," said Jackson, "We went through similar changes. Our departments were in constant communication, and still are. And it's thanks to that communication that you've all been allowed to do this today. It's not something normally done."

"Yeah, an' I'm guessin' it ain't gon' be the last time either," said Corey. He was riding with his brother.

"Hey, I really appreciate this," said Rasalas, "Getting Brady's family home... it's been a wish since all this rubbish started. It wasn't fair, them being uprooted just because of some crazy wizard and his rhetoric."

The group fell silent for some time, as they made an easy track slightly northwest, wanting to avoid heading into the more populated area. Rasalas couldn't help but notice the difference in the air, being so much further south. Sure, southern Ontario got incredibly warm—or at least had for the past two summers, but Georgia heat seemed to have an atmosphere all its own.

"Hey, everyone s-s-s-stop for a 'sec," said Ryan. "Aaron, hold the b-b-broom."

"Why?" Jackson asked.

"I think I see something... look down there, about a hundred m-m-m-meters, eleven o'clock."

Ryan reached into his pouch, and pulled out a pair of binoculars, and while Aaron steadied the broom, he zoomed in on the object which had attracted his attention.

"Damn. Looks like parts to an old s-s-saw mill. S-s-s-steam engine, part of a boiler... l-l-left for garbage at the edge of the w-w-woods."

"Well, if the owner's left it to rot... if we could find—"

Corey let out a snort. "Hankel. Charles Hankel. Guy's a fuckin' tool, ravin' lunatic if 'ya ask me."(1)

"Had a boy, not been seen for a decade, somethin' like that," Brady threw in, "Folks pretty much stay away from the place... Corey's right. Man's touched in the head."

"If I got it right, his wife ran off twenty or so years ago, sent the old man off the deep end," said Corey.

"How do you guys know about him then, if he keeps to himself?" Rasalas asked.

"Small place, people talk," Corey answered, with a shrug, as they got moving again.

"But surely... I mean, we'd pay for the machinery, they'd make money off of it, rather than leave it to rot," said Aaron.

"Just based on the unsubstantiated information from Mr. Gibson and his brother, we would have to do some sort of investigation, and make sure it's safe first," said one of the American Aurors.

"N-n-n-not right now then," Ryan decided, "B-b-but maybe in a few months, w-w-we can revisit it. A steam-p-p-powered sawmill. D-d-da wanted to get hold of one... s-s-so it would be awesome to d-d-do it in his m-m-memory."

It was nearly time for dinner before they returned to the house. They found that Casey had come through, and was helping Betty put the late meal together. Rasalas was amazed at how similar the house was to what Brady had set up in his 'preserve' inside the sanctuary.

Then, as dusk fell, the party was treated to a fantastic fireworks display, courtesy the twins. For the Gibsons, Independence day just took on a second meaning.

"Happy fourth of July, mate," Rasalas grinned, clapping Brady on the back.

He found himself on the receiving end of another tight embrace.

"'an it means the world, Ras."

July 10

The sapling Rasalas had received from Avalon had grown quite nicely, and was now large enough and strong enough that it could be moved out into the yard instead of being kept in a clay pot in the sanctuary's greenhouse. The Tree of Avalon needed to be in the earth, to be connected to the earth, in order to thrive.

So, just before sunrise, the residents and guests of Rasalas' once again gathered in the back yard, to the west of the pool and patio, where a small hole had been prepared the previous evening. A number of flat stones had also been collected, and Casey had contributed a small statue of the goddess.

"Great Goddess of the earth. Thank you for the gift of this tree, a reminder of your unending love for each and every one of us... that the circle of life carries on, no matter where it may lead us. Through tears of joy, and tears of sadness, we continue to be touched by you."

With Casey's help, Rasalas gently tugged the small sapling out of the clay pot, and placed it in the prepared hole.

"Through sunshine and rain, joy and sorrow, we must not forget ever: there is one who loves us unconditionally. She touches each and every one of us, every hour of the day. Let us seek out that strength, when we have no more," said Casey, as Rasalas began to gently push the pile of soil into the hole so it covered the roots.

"May this gift continue to bring balance into this world, at a time when it is needed the most," said Rasalas.

Now, the others helped to move the flat stones to cover up the base of the tree, and protect it from pests. Of course, Rasalas could already feel the magic humming around it, as the tree began to draw energy from the soil around it, and cement its roots.

"B-b-b-blessed be, mother Goddess, thank you for allowing Rasalas to bring a small slice of Avalon, and a symbol of your love, here to his home."

Then, as the sun breached the horizon, Ryan gripped Aaron's hand, and dropped to one knee. He could feel his face getting hot, his palms getting sweaty... the butterflies doing circles in his stomach. He sucked in a breath... do it before he lost his nerve...

"Th-th-this is s-s-something I w-w-wanted to do b-b-back in Avalon... b-b-but this w-w-will have to d-d-do. Aaron W-watson... before all these w-w-witnesses, and the Goddess... will you do me the honour of b-b-becoming my bonded?"

Aaron stood speechless, mouth hanging open. He'd somewhat expected the question. Of course, he had debated just doing it, but... there it was.

"Ryan Sawyer... you are my everything. Before all these witnesses, before the Goddess, yes. To become bonded with you... I wanted to marry you since the first time we met."

"I d-d-don't have a ring or anything, but..."

"That doesn't matter to me. Just kiss me here and that will do," Aaron smirked.

Ryan only happily obliged, resulting whoops and cheers for the happy couple.(2)

The event spurned yet another boisterous party in Rasalas' back yard. He was more than happy for his newest friends, but a small part of him looked on with envy, with Arthur being delegated to existing as a portrait. Where was his happy ending... or Rasalas' for that matter?

July 13

Lunch time was interrupted by Ron letting out a gasp, seeing the front page of the evening edition of the Daily Prophet—remember, England's five hours ahead, making it dinner time. The left side of the page was taken up by a large moving photograph of Snape, looking the ever-foreboding man he was. The right side, taken up by large block letters reading: SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER.

"Harry! Are you mental?"

"What?" Rasalas asked.

"It says you advocated his appointment! He's a slimy Slytherin who's been having a go at us since we started school!"

"Ron! For the love of... just leave it. Trust me, with most of his strings cut, I think he'll make a smashing headmaster, exactly what the school needs. And really, if there is a problem, he'll find my support revoked rather quickly. Something no one will want."

"Well..."

"And you have to admit, he was a damned good teacher when it came to Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Well... all right... but really. Snape, headmaster?"

"I know. There was a bit of debate within my own conscience, an identical argument to what you just presented. Thing is, deep down, Professor Snape can be a decent human being. This is his chance to prove it.

"Part of that is doing the jobs Dumbledore hasn't been for years. Making sure the school is safe for everyone, being the primary, foremost, at the top of the list."

"It's still not gonna be all that popular, Harry."

"And it's not about making the popular decision, Ron. It's about making the right one. Perhaps it is a gamble, but, my gut says, it's right. And my gut's not been wrong all that often."

"You'll certainly earn more than a few points with Slytherin," said Marcus, "This sort of move demonstrates your lack of bias toward them."

"Well, I never really had any outright dislike for Slytherin as a whole. I mean, I said it before... the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

"And considering some of the plots you've hatched over the past few months only prove it," said Marcus, "Bloody hell you would have been a powerful asset."

"Meanwhile, the rest of wizarding Britain probably would have suffered an aneurysm. The boy-who-lived, a Slytherin?! The world's coming to an end!" Rasalas exclaimed, in dramatic fashion.

That brought about raucous laughter from around the table.

"Even more precious, would have been Dumbledore's reaction," said Marcus.

"He'd likely demand a re-sort, I think."

Marcus shook his head. "No such thing.(3) Once the hat places you, that house becomes your home and your family as long as you're a student at Hogwarts."

July 23

The election on the 16th ended in a landslide victory for Amelia Bones. Her campaign based on "Common sense, respect, fairness, and equality for all", spurned on by a number of endorsement spots Rasalas had taken part in over the wizarding wireless, easily buried the "Traditional magical values" angle taken by Barnabas Delecon.

Now, as it neared the noon hour local time, Rasalas and his fellow knights stood at the back of a temporary dais erected in the atrium of England's ministry of magic. Dozens of microphones were set up, and a throng of reporters were gathered, as were a large audience of the wizarding public, which backed out into the corridors on both sides.

Seated on the dais were some members of the newly-elected Wizengamot, along with the minister-elect. Also present were a number of department heads, including Rufus Scrimgeour, appointed as head of the DMLE. He now stood, and approached the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen. This election, this series of events, has been unprecedented. Never before, has the entire law-making body been dissolved. Normally, it would be the chief warlock standing in my place. Due to the circumstances, it was felt I would serve best as a sort of master-of-ceremonies.

"If our new minister-elect would please rise and join me at the podium, along with Sir Rasalas Peverell, we may begin."

Both Madam Bones and Rasalas crossed the platform, to join Scrimgeour at the podium. Scrimgeour then stepped back.

He turned to face the back. "Sir Brady, Sir Accolon, and Sir Cai, if you'll join us as sentinels."

Brady, Accolon, and Cai all hurried over, with Brady standing behind, while Cai and Accolon stood at left and right. They stood with hands clasped, and heads bowed. Each of them wore tuxedos, though Rasalas had gone with Arthur's armour. He was acting as an agent of the crown, for this critical event. There had been discussion about what sort of ceremony should be presented, and it was decided it should be rather simple.

Rasalas then began, "Madam minister-elect, if you would produce your wand, and point it skyward."

Madam Bones produced her wand, and pointed it skyward, as requested.

"Do you promise to uphold the laws of Wizarding England?"

"I promise."

"Do you promise to protect the people of Wizarding England against all threats, foreign and domestic?"

"I do so promise."

"Do you promise to execute the office of minister of magic, with honesty, integrity, above reproach?"

"All these things I promise, with every fiber of my being."

"Congratulations, madam minister."

Now, Rasalas turned and faced the gathered crowd.

"Mother Goddess of the earth, please grant Amelia the fortitude and wisdom, as she takes on the tremendous mantle before her. Help her to navigate the many challenges and trials that she will face. Help her to govern with a fair, unbiased hand. Help her to resist the temptations to take the easy route, guide her to do what is right, and what is necessary, that this great land of your creation might thrive, become all that it can be.

"Mother Goddess, help all of us that we may see your grace in all that we do, that we may once again hear your voice, feel your love. Help the newly-elected members of the Wizengamot to govern fairly and justly, that past mistakes are learned from, rather than repeated.

"All of this I ask, as your humble servant, past, present, and future. Blessed be."

"Blessed be," both Accolon and Cai spoke.

"Amen," said Brady.

Rasalas then proclaimed, "Ladies and gentlemen, Amelia Bones, England's Minister for Magic!"

That spurned the crowd into a roaring ovation. The new minister waited a few minutes, before asking for quiet.

"Thank you. Thank you all," she began. "Times here have been difficult. We've faced Tom Riddle and his followers twice now in recent memory, both occasions having a terrible cost for our community as a whole.

"It is only through respect and understanding, underlined by Sir Peverell, that we as a community will heal, but more importantly, grow and prosper. All of us have been given a tremendous gift in a clean slate, a fresh start. Let us not squander it by reverting to the harmful ways of the past.

"It is with that in mind that I do the following as my first act as your Minister for Magic: be it known that Magical England does officially recognize the title of Crown Protector, given to Sir Rasalas Peverell, in that he acts with all of the powers and privilages of King Arthur, by grace of the Goddess.

"For too long, the Wizengamot and the minister have not been held to account. That must change, and that will change, beginning now. In the non-magical world, the English parliament must answer to the crown, and it is therefore only right it be done here.

"We have much work to do, but if we all work together, there is very little we cannot do."

She paused a moment.

"I am now open to questions."

Instantly, there was a throng of voices, but she picked out a reporter in the fifth row.

"Isn't Sir Rasalas' authority here redundant, given his Peverell lineage? Given it was his actions which triggered this election in the first place... before he received the title of Crown Protector."

"Protector Peverell, care to answer?"

"It's a difference of jurisdiction," Rasalas answered. "I have to admit I'm a little chuffed that Britain is the first wizarding nation to officially recognize my authority—authority I must admit I don't care for. Thing is, if it'll better the world as a whole, keep the government honest, then so be it."

"Will you force other nations into accepting your title?" came a question from the second row.

"Only if there is no choice in the matter," Rasalas answered, "The sovereignty of a nation is something its citizens must hold dear, and for someone to just arbitrarily infringe on that, for no reason... it's both foolish and irresponsible.

"If, however, a nation's actions cause great strife for its own citizens, or its actions affect communities around them, then perhaps an intervention might be necessary. That would be the only scenario where I would invoke the powers Arthur has passed on to me."

The press conference carried on for another hour, with many of the questions being asked of Rasalas, and his title. It was no surprise that would take centre stage, since up to now, he'd said very little. Perhaps it was best to get all the questions out of the way, and head off future harassment from the media, perhaps head off speculation, and far worse, incorrect assumptions on the part of the public.

The event ended, only leading to a lengthy reception which took the rest of the afternoon. It was there Rasalas met more of the elected Wizengamot members, one of them being Augusta Longbottom.

"Protector Peverell," she greeted.

"It's still just Rasalas to you. Uh... considering Madam Bones is now the minister, I'll want to change my proxies. Would you be willing?"

"It's still legal for the minister to cast votes on your behalf," Longbottom answered.

"I think it's improper, whether legal or not."

"Well, it is entirely up to you. I'll expect notices of intent, then."

Longbottom thought for a moment. "Something else you should be aware of. Should you attend a meeting of the Wizengamot, you will take the place of the Chief Warlock during the session, given your status."

"Oh. Never thought of that."

"There are many things you will need to think of, Rasalas," said Longbottom, "You have your solicitor?"

"Yeah. Kate Lewis, Canadian law-witch. She's been truly amazing dealing with a number of matters."

"I'm sure she's already warned you, but do be careful. Your position within our world is unprecedented—there's not been a magical king or equivilent in modern times. There will be many who may try to take advantage of you."

"Yeah, there's been a few of my close allies who have already warned me about that. My house elves are screening my mail—though the wards on the house tend to catch stuff that may be harmful."

"Most importantly, you do have to be careful when out in the magical world."

"And that's already well-covered, Madam Longbottom," said Auror Jackson, coming up beside Rasalas, "The Canadian Ministry has a round-the-clock watch on his property, and he has a constant escort when he's out in public."

"Most of the protection detail is out of sight, while in more formal functions, they're rather visible. And, at least a few of my allies and friends tend to be with me as it is."

"Sir Accolon and Sir Cai, as well as... Sir Brady, is it?" Longbottom remembered.

"At minimum, Sir Brady is with me these days... but given today's event, all four of us wanted to be here."

"It's likely our DMLE here will add protection detail while you're in the country. They'll coordinate with their Canadian counterpart if ample time is given. It shouldn't be expected that Canadian Aurors provide protection abroad."

"This is true," Jackson agreed, "I'll pass on a message to Mr. Young, and he'll be in contact with... Mr. Scrimgeour, is it?"

"Thing is, I'll likely limit my time here, mostly to visiting Hogwarts. The castle seems to like me, and the feeling's mutual."

"As my grandson has told me," Longbottom laughed, "Having an ancient connection to the school does put you in a rather unique position."

Now it was Rasalas' turn to laugh. "Yeah, guess it does."

It turned out to be an incredibly long day, as they ended up also attending the inauguration ball. So it was well after midnight London time before they finally said their good byes, returning to the sanctuary. Then, even though it was only seven o'clock Ontario time, Rasalas felt exhausted, both physically and mentally.

"You look dead on your feet," Arthur remarked from his portrait.

"I feel like it. Good grief, never expected to make a day of it," Rasalas answered, as he flicked a hand at himself, instantly undressing. The armour popped onto a neat stand in the corner of the room, while the rest of his clothes went into the hamper.

"The life of a monarch. It holds a unique set of challenges. But you must trust me, Rasalas. I can think of no one better-suited for that challenge. The title you now hold will allow you to continue your work for the Goddess; ensuring balance."

"I know. It's why I haven't outright rejected the title. I only hope... I won't really need to act on it."

"You and I both know that is impossible," said Arthur, "There will always be those who will work to oppose the true greater good, those who will work to sow nothing but misery on their fellow man.

"It is in those cases, where you will be required to act, to set things right."

"I know, Arthur. I just... I just hope it's some time before that happens."

That got a nod from the King. "And where is Brady?"

"Gone to visit with his mum and brother for a while. He's not as wore out as I am. Guess he's used to it."

"He loves you as much as I, Rasalas. Just give him time and he will come to the realization he loves you equally."

"I just... last thing I want to do is piss him off, scare him away. You know something really bad happened to him a year and a half ago."

"You must just give him time. All will be well, I am certain of it."

He didn't remember when he fell asleep, but Rasalas partially woke, feeling someone else climb into bed with him, and spoon up against him. Perhaps, Arthur was right. Time would only tell.

The following morning, Brady woke him up, wanting to go out on the bike. Rasalas easily obliged, with them this time heading out east toward Port Hope and Cobourg. It was later in the morning before they stopped, at last finding a Tim Horton's.

As they were leaving, Rasalas stopped.

"Ras?"

"That truck," Rasalas answered, discreetly pointing to a battered-up pickup truck parked further down the lot. "It... that was the vehicle that... when I was attacked nearly two years ago. Whoever owns that truck... they did it."

"Rasalas. Are you positive?" came a disembodied voice to his left, belonging to Auror Jackson.

Rasalas was momentarily confused, considering it had been a separate pair of Aurors who'd at first joined them out of sight. Then it dawned on him: they'd likely changed while he and Brady were eating.

"Positive. That memory... it was that truck."

Brady made to turn around and go back into the restaurant, but an unseen hand stopped him.

"We'll take care of it. Best not get involved," came Jackson's voice.

"As much as I want to make them hurt... just... make sure they face justice."

"Sir Rasalas. You have my word."

PEVERELL ASSAILANTS CAPTURED;

SENTENCED TO AZKABAN

Bill Hammond, 56, and Roy Cutter, 37, were apprehended by Aurors in Cobourg on Tuesday afternoon, after Protector Peverell recognized the vehicle he saw on the night he was attacked nearly two years ago.

A confession was secured by Aurors Tuesday evening, as well as confessions for a string of other offenses reaching back nearly a decade, all taking place in locations between Cobourg and Oshawa. Inquiries to both local law enforcement and the Ontario Provincial Police have uncovered a number of unsolved cases, some of which have been matched to the confession obtained Tuesday.

The defendants have both been sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban for assaulting a magical person, attempted murder, and robbery. Though both offenders are non-magical, the ministry guideline establishes that attacks against magical people perpetrated by non-magical individuals, must be responded to swiftly,and harshly. A ministry (See SPOKESWITCH, page 2)

Ministry regulations regarding non-magical crimes against the magical world, page 8

Closure for Protector Peverell? Page 5

"Good riddance," Rasalas muttered, tossing the paper down on the end table.

He and Brady were sitting out on the verandah back at Brady's place. Brady wanted to spend a bit of time at home, but invited Rasalas to join him. Of course, that didn't stop Dobby from bringing in a copy of the National Wizards' Standard when it arrived.

"In your shoes, I'd have just shot 'em."

"And I'd probably get away with it. Thing is, staying out of it, letting DMLE handle it, it keeps everything nice and legal. I meant what I said on Monday. The less I have to do with being Crown Protector, the better.

"I guess in some ways, a small part of me has them to thank. Without them, I wouldn't have met you. Or gotten away from Dumbledore. The world might be a very different place. So I have a small amount of forgiveness for them. Not entirely, but..."

"Says lots about your character, Ras."

July 31

There had been plenty of discussion about having a party on Rasalas' birthday. He didn't want to make a big deal about it, but more than a few people on both sides of the pond had other ideas.

In a repeat of the previous year, however, both Rasalas and Brady took off early on the bike, and did not return until it was nearly lunch time. Then, during lunch (for which the back patio had been adjusted and expanded), he was presented with a large bag filled with letters. No surprise, considering he did have somewhat of a fan base. He would answer those at a later time.

The number of people present indeed represented both sides of the pond, with both the Canadian and English ministers making a brief visit at one point during the day. The majority of the teachers from Hogwarts also dropped by, including the newly-appointed headmaster. None stayed for long.

Rasalas, and by extension Brady, meanwhile, were content to park themselves in a pair of deck chairs, with a chest of beer between them. Those sitting around them, however, changed frequently.

The pool was very busy, given the warm day—though it had become the normal activity during the afternoon for the past while. Like the previous summer, July had brought the heat to southern Ontario. Ryan and Aaron were cuddled together on a large mesh tube—Rasalas had to shake his head at what they had decided to wear into the pool. He could only imagine what Ryan's mother had to say about it.

Rasalas smirked, and called out, "Y'know. If you pair want to have a wet wedding, we can probably arrange it."

"Long as you two join us w-w-w-wearing what you've got on," Ryan answered.

"Fuck off."

That earned laughs from the others, both in the pool and around it.

"I keep warning them, wearin' all that gear near the pool, they're asking to get dunked," Aaron quipped, "Beside the point, they did promise us they'd do it and let us film it."

"Stuff happened. You guys know how it was last summer. Then all the shit in the fall... been a brutal year, we've all suffered great losses in one way or another."

"'an we need to put it behind us," said Brady, "Stop bringin' it up, 'specially today."

"I don't mean to, but it's hard not to."

He picked up his beer, and finished the last bit of it.

"The world has to be a better place today than it was yesterday. The worst monster has been slain, and I'm surrounded by dear friends. I could want nothing more, then to see a better future."

"Ras... 'nough wallowin' in melancholy. I's your birthday," Brady scolded him again.

Rasalas stuck his tongue out in response.

"Shithead."

"Wanker."

That earned a swat from Brady, which Rasalas swiftly returned. Brady then answered by dumping the remnants of his beer in Rasalas' lap.

"Hey Fred, looks like the birthday boy may have had a small accident," George smirked.

"Right you are Georgie. Let's give them a hand cleaning up," Fred smirked. And, before either Rasalas or Brady could react, they landed in the pool with an enormous splash.

Rasalas surfaced first, coughing and wheezing, startled by what had just been done to him. Brady surfaced only a few seconds later, better for the wear, though equally soaked. The pair of them stood in the water up to their necks, the bubbles still escaping from their clothes.

"Good lord," he muttered.

Rasalas could only shake his head. "Bloody wankers."

"We did threaten to do it," said George.

"Last year this time," Fred added.

Rasalas let out a sigh. "Guess you did. Serves me right for lettin' my gaurd down." He smirked. "Uh, Sir Brady, you seem to be missing an accessory."

Brady reached up, no noticing his cap was missing.

"I think it's at the bottom," said Ginny, who was sitting on the edge with her feet dangling in the water.

Brady flicked a hand at the item, summoning it. He jammed it back on his head, and Rasalas could only laugh.

"You look like a drowned rat."

Brady grinned. "So do you." And he seized Rasalas about the face, pulled him close, and they locked lips together.

FINITE INCANTATUM.

FINAL NOTES: So it ends. Harry has set the world on a course he hopes is far better than what was in place. Of course, there are plenty of things still going on, but from my point of view, the major plot arc for this story is concluded—he did what the Goddess set him out to do.

Now, of course, he has a very different title than what he started out with, and plenty of material that could come out of that... and equally important, a few implications hinted at recently. There will be a sequel to this, but I can't promise when. I've only just began to write down ideas about it, let alone to establish the plot. So count on it being a while before anything gets posted.

With this being a series, I can, however, post a few extra scenes, so there might be more in the near future, likely rather short pieces, mainly one-shots and so on.

That said, I thank all of my readers for joining Harry/Rasalas and Brady on what was truly a crazy, epic ride. Your comments have been awesome. Do remember to subscribe to the series to be notified when it's updated. But with that, Finite Incantatum.

(1) Hmmm... oh the plot bunny, why won't you die? I'll let my readers figure out who/what/where this is from. Virtual cookies to the first correct guess. And those of you that do know... yeah, both Brady and his brother have the man pegged quite nicely. Another pointer to possible events in *cough* season 2 *cough*... we'll see.

(2) This is an event I did plan for from the very beginning. It went through a couple of modifications, and moved about somewhat, before it took the form presented. Now as to their wedding, it'll likely take place early in the next story.

(3) Taking a swipe at the "insert-character-here gets resorted" trope. There is no canon example of this, and quite honestly, I think it goes against the spirit of the sorting hat. Granted, I also disagree with such a thing being forced on an eleven-year-old. Our personalities do change as we go through life, and so being branded by a handful of personality traits, particularly at a young age... not a great idea.

As an additional note, I've finally nailed down where exactly Brady lives—only after the story's over. It's about 22, maybe 23 kilometres southwest of Athens, GA., due east of a little place called Good Hope. The house is set back from a small lake, much like as Brady creates in his 'preserve'.