**This is ridiculously long for an epilogue, but it's really eight epilogues.

And just in case it was confusing, I posted two chapters at once last week, so if you maybe missed it, you can catch up on Chapter 90 & 91, which is the full Battle at Hogwarts. Thanks so much for reading! It's been quite an adventure!

Severus Snape ~ 1998

Two pairs of legs strode down the corridor. Remus Lupin was considerably more casual in his step, hands shoved in his pockets, as he ambled along beside the Headmaster. Severus Snape walked determinedly, perhaps the slightest bit nervous and excited about the start of this new term, although he would neither show nor admit that. It was still mind boggling to him that the Ministry and the Board of Governors had allowed him to not only stay on staff, but remain in the position of Headmaster. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly elected Minister, had let it slip that several parents, students, and staff members had spoken up on his behalf and requested he be given a trial year to run Hogwarts properly now that the war was over, and Severus was determined to do his level best.

"Your crate of books arrived just this morning," he said to Remus. "I took the liberty of looking through a copy. Very well done."

"Thank you. It was a bit of a scramble getting all of the rewrites finished on time, but the publisher was very accommodating."

"I think the upper years will find them instructive. I too feel the more knowledge they have about the history and philosophy of the Dark Arts the better prepared they will be to counter them."

Remus glanced at the man beside him with a shade of skepticism. "Those are not words I would have expected to hear from you. There's a difference between opposing Voldemort and opposing the Dark Arts as a whole."

"I do not believe it is as simple as merely opposing them. Like a chess match, one has to study and understand their opponent to be able to defeat them quickly and effectively. I can still appreciate the skill of my opponent."

"Hmmmm. I suppose that is one way to look at it."

"I assume you will not have trouble fulfilling your teaching duties here while living in Hogsmeade?"

"Not that I anticipate. By the way, I plan on having Artemis and Lina come as guest speakers to the Sixth and Seventh Years to discuss career options. They'll present working for the government as an Auror versus a less traditional route."

It was Severus' turn to look skeptical. "Just be sure they don't say anything that causes the Ministry or MCUSA to start sending me owls about being undermined."

Remus chuckled. "I've told them both they have to be diplomatic about it and set their negative personal experiences aside."

Stopping outside the door to the Potion Master's office, Snape knocked brusquely twice. "Our new Potions instructor arrived today. I've only communicated with her by owl, so I thought I would introduce myself before the staff meeting."

"Leaving it a bit late isn't she? The students arrive this evening."

"Convincing Ilvermorny to release her from her contract there was a bit of a nightmare. Professor Price is quite well known for her work with the various properties of aconite. I believe she was even working on a more effective adaptation of the Wolfsbane potion."

The door to the office swung open to reveal a head of messy brown hair and a pair of blue jeans, the rest of the witch being obscured by the pile of books and papers in her arms. "Yes, what is it? I'm a little busy right at the moment," came a muffled voice.

"Professor Price, I am the Headmaster. I wanted to introduce myself in person," Snape began in his customary silky voice, as Remus was already reaching to help take some of the pile.

"Oh!" the witch exclaimed, turning abruptly and dropping the pile in a nearby chair. She turned back around, a huge smile lighting her face. "It is just such an honor to meet you!" she said, holding out her hand. "I've read all your papers. Well, I had to have the ones in Spanish and French translated, so I hope they're accurate, but definitely the ones in English and German. Your paper on using poisoned dragon's liver as a substitute for asphodel root is going to revolutionize the potion industry one day. I think what you're seeing are changes at a molecular level. My brother was even impressed. He's a chemist, that's sort of a No-Maj potioneer, and works for a pharmaceutical company. My mother finds that hysterical, because pharmacy comes from the Greek word for witchcraft. She has a very weird sense of humor."

"Yes…well…your CV was most impressive. The Headmistress at Ilvermorny said she had yet to meet a more exceptional Potions instructor," he added, his brow furrowed as though that statement coupled with the personality before him was profoundly confusing.

"We're just headed to the staff meeting," Remus added, reaching to shake the hand that was still being held out, as Severus seemed incapable of doing so at the moment. "Remus Lupin. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Would you like to follow us up to the staff room? You can't have had enough time to really get the layout of the castle yet."

"Wonderful! Thank you!" Professor Price beamed. "I'll just grab my notebook…"

There was a shuffle and thud as papers and books were shifted to find what she was looking for. Finally, notebook in hand and quill behind her ear, she stepped with them out of the office. The new professor kept up a steady commentary as they made their way to the staff room, and Remus almost laughed at Snape's glazed-over expression.

The rest of the teachers were already assembled, and Professor McGonagall stood to her feet as they came in the door. "Severus, I have read your memoranda and I just…well I am just astounded. You can't possibly be serious about this!"

Thankful for a break from the new teacher's flood of conversation, which had revolved uncomfortably around her opinions of his own work, Snape cleared his throat and seated himself regally at the head of the room. "I assure you, Minerva, I am quite prepared to do whatever is necessary. If the events of the previous few years have shown anything, it's that we must take steps to promote unity instead of division. The Board of Governors agreed that in light of the recent war some changes were necessary to ensure that Hogwarts did not become a breeding ground for prejudicial behaviors."

"Yes, I agree with you, Severus, of course I do. And I am fully supportive of the idea to allocate House points based on projects the Houses do together, but…why do we have to change Quidditch?!"

Imogene Hooch sighed dramatically. "Oh for pity's sake, Minerva, they still get to play Quidditch! We'll just have open tryouts for four completely new teams rather than having one team per House. It will also be a great opportunity to create practice teams for the younger students that want to learn the sport."

Professor McGonagall opened and closed her mouth a few times like a goldfish, before finally saying, "Well, I'm sure you will all forgive me if I happen to choose to support the team with the most Gryffindor players."

"You are free to support whomever you like," shrugged Madame Hooch. "But I will do my level best to make sure there is equal representation from all Houses."

"Now," announced Professor Snape, "are there any other items we need to discuss before the students arrive this evening? Hawthorne are you settling in?"

"I believe so," the older man replied, pulling thoughtfully on his beard. "Professor Binns notes were quite extensive, but he doesn't seem to have done more than lecture…"

"Apart from exams that's all he'd done for the last couple hundred years," remarked Pomona Sprout dryly.

"And I, personally, am quite intrigued by the idea of inter-House cooperation. I plan on having some of the lower grades reenact the Battle of Hastings. And I think for the uppers years we might put together a play. Open auditions like Quidditch. Something from Shakespeare, perhaps?"

"I think that's an excellent suggestion!" piped up Professor Flitwick. "My choir could provide entertainment during the intermission."

"The last few years I've done a potions competition for the upper grades," offered the new professor. "Divide them up into teams and let them experiment with known potions or come up with something completely new. No-Maj schools have them. They call them science fairs."

"This is Professor Price, our new Potions Instructor," Snape added.

"Eglantine Price," the witch announced. "Terrible name, I know. People usually call me Eggy, which isn't really better, but there you go."

"A fellow American!" Hawthorne said cheerfully, rising to his feet and offering his hand. "Hawthorne Endress. I'm also new this year. History of Magic. What brought you to this side of the pond?"

"Oh, the opportunity to work under Headmaster Snape!" she answered excitedly, and every head in the room turned as one to the man in question.

"Yes…well…I…" Snape was beyond irritated at how he suddenly became unable to string together a simple sentence.

"I gather he's been rather modest about his achievements," Professor Price said, tilting her head and watching him questioningly. "But he and I are two of only six people worldwide that have consulted with BASF's potion division. It's quite a mark of respect. And his early paper on how the sloth brain contributes to both Draught of Living Death and it's antidote, Wiggenweld, is some of the most quoted research in the business."

"You've been hiding your light under a bushel, Severus," remarked Professor Sinestra with a teasing smile.

Snape cleared his throat. "If we are all in agreement regarding the new Quidditch policy and there is no new business to discuss before the students arrive this evening I think we can consider this meeting adjourned," he said hurriedly.

The staff rose from their seats, some in confusion, but most in amusement at the abrupt close of the meeting, and began to file out of the room. "Headmaster," began Professor Price, "I did have some questions. My contract indicated I would also be undertaking the role as the new Head of Slytherin House. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page regarding what those duties entail and what your expectations were."

Severus fought down the urge to pull at his collar which all of a sudden seemed a bit tight, and took a step back from the woman who stood looking up at him entreatingly. "I…I am afraid I am much to busy today for that," he said. "Professor McGonagall is the Head of Gryffindor House. I think perhaps she might have a little more time to go over those details with you."

"I will track her down then!" she replied brightly. "And thank you again for offering me the position here. Perhaps after the school year has begun and things quiet down a little we could get together and discuss the papers I had translated? Or you could fill me in on your own little tricks to engage the more struggling students?

"I…We shall see," Severus replied watching the new teacher leave and run after Professor McGonagall, firing questions as fast as her feet moved. He sank slowly back into a chair, his face a picture of disbelief. "That…woman…has won awards for her work…I've heard her present at conferences. Ilvermorny was incensed about her leaving…And yet she…she…"

"She's a live wire. And she certainly seems to be a fan of yours," said Remus, trying to hide a smile as he watched Snape's face.

If anything, Severus' face grew more confused. "Why would she ask me to critique a translation that she mostly likely had done by a reputable company? Why would she want to know tricks to use in the classroom if she's been teaching for ten years?"

Remus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. "I'm hardly an expert, but I think she was suggesting she was simply open to the possibility of getting to know you better."

Severus turned to Remus, his face a shade paler and his eyes widening slightly. "Pardon?!"

Joshua & Daisy Rodriguez ~ 1999

Joshua didn't make it ten feet from the door of the post office before he ripped into the package Gareth had sent from Lima. It had been a long and tedious process getting things just right. Gareth, naturally had mentioned more than once that he was overthinking things and expecting the impossible, but what did he know? Gareth had never wanted to ask a girl to marry him. He'd never needed to show a girl that she was as perfect as this ring was supposed to be. What good was being an heir to a silver empire if you couldn't have a piece of jewelry exactly the way you wanted it?

Besides, Daisy needed something happy to look forward to. She kept busy helping Ellie teach the children and writing up philanthropic ideas for Rodriguez Silver to invest in, but she'd been feeling a little lost lately with everyone going in different directions — Gareth in Peru, Remus and Hawthorne both taking jobs at Hogwarts and moving into Hogsmeade, Isabel and Nick headed off to tour with the Weird Sisters, Catherine and Deirdre busy working on their nursing and social work degrees. Joshua had even been gone most of the last year himself, working as an apprentice with a huge wizard farming conglomerate in Lincolnshire. This year he'd set up a deal with Matthew Roberts to spend the year learning non-magic farming practices. He and Daisy could get married and live in the little house they'd set up for Ellie. But he had to propose first, and that required a ring.

With slightly shaking fingers, he pulled away the last of the wrapping and opened the hinged lid. Nestled in the black velvet was a silver band that he quickly pulled out and held close to his face, hoping this time they'd gotten the carvings right. Two wolves etched into the band on either side of the single diamond, a ring of daisies twined around the rest of the band connecting the wolves. Yes. Finally. Exactly what he'd envisioned.

Joshua let out a relieved breath, placed the ring back into the box, and closed it with a snap. Now he could get to work on planning the perfect proposal.

Sirius & Lina Laurent ~ 2000

"Do you think I could keep this one?" Sirius asked, reaching for a large frame. "That looks like a Picasso."

"Don't touch it!" yelped Bill Weasley. "I haven't gotten to that one yet. This whole pile of stuff is crawling with curses."

A hex flashed from the wand, and Lina ducked, growling under her breath as she threw her own curses. "Sirius, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I thought you came to help!" she finally yelled, leaping away from another spell and finally bringing a stack of crates down on her opponent. "You're not here to be an art critic! Take too much longer and we'll be late to Harry's Quidditch match!"

"Fine, fine," Sirius huffed, joining Fleur in dueling a pair of men who'd run at them from the depths of the warehouse. "I just think the Ministry could let us choose something from all the loot we've turned in hunting down Voldemort's former associates."

"We've turned in?" asked Lina archly, firing a spell that finished the men off. She levitated the bodies together and tied them up, ready for transport back to the Ministry. "You're so busy painting and setting up art shows you've only come with me on two jobs. Bill and Fleur and I have been the ones tracking down the former Death Eaters and bringing in the loot."

"Yeah, about that," interrupted Bill, looking up from a golden chalice. "Fleur and I need to discuss changing our roles if that's possible."

"What's the problem, Weasley?" teased Lina, "Not enough excitement for you?"

"Zee jobs are exciting, but a leetle too dangerous at the moment," answered Fleur. "I am, how do you say it? Attending a baby."

"Expecting," corrected Bill with a huge smile on his face.

"What?! That's wonderful! Congratulations!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Yeah, so we thought maybe Fleur could work in London more, setting up the itineraries and coordinating things, and I can still come in and deal with the curse breaking after any Death Eaters have been handled. Less fighting, more set up and clean up, if you think that would work."

"I'm willing to give it a try," nodded Lina. "I've got plenty of people I can outsource some of the field work to."

"Brilliant!" said Bill, looking relieved. "This has been a great set up for us. We weren't really looking forward to having to go back to Gringotts."

"Thank you very much, Lina," nodded Fleur. "Now I will take zees men to zee Ministry and see you at home," she added, throwing Bill a kiss.

"So I think that's finished it," Bill announced, added the last item to a crate. "These are ready for transport."

"Thanks, Bill. You go on home. I'll see you both on Monday and we'll sort out where we go from here."

The red head disapparated with a pop and Lina turned to Sirius. "What do you want to grab for dinner before the match? Curry? Or we haven't gotten Thai in a while."

"Mexican," he replied promptly. "I've been dreaming of cilantro. Say that's great news about Bill and Fleur, don't you think? I love babies!"

Lina felt suddenly cold. They'd been married two years and this was the first time the subject had come up. She'd foolishly hoped to avoid it all together. That was cowardly of her, but she had less than no desire to have children, and didn't want to be pushed into something for fear of disappointing Sirius.

"Are you hoping I'll pop out some half-blood Blacks to shake up the family tree?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't quite as biting as it sounded in her head.

Sirius set down the painting he'd picked up and stepped close to her, cupping her face in his hands. "Do you want to have children?" he asked bluntly, searching her eyes.

Lina shook her head.

Sirius smiled, smoothing a piece of her hair back. "That's a relief. If you'd said yes I'd think I didn't know you at all. I picked the mercenary, not the housewife, remember? And Merlin knows the Black name needs to just fade out of the national conscious completely."

"But what do you want?" she whispered.

"I want to be the best Uncle Padfoot I can be to whomever chooses to address me as such. I want to splash gallons of paint around and hope my work makes people happy. And I want to help you be the best damn mercenary the world's ever seen. And when you're too hold and decrepit to fight anymore, we'll hire you out to plan other people's jobs."

Lina laughed, thankful it kept the tears at bay. "Well, Mr. Laurent, if you're serious, I think that sounds like an absolutely smashing plan."

He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "Mrs. Laurent, when are you finally going to learn? I'm always Sirius."

Xavier & Catherine Bryant ~ 2001

Catherine winced as the pickup truck rumbled over another pothole, and Xavier's hand reached out for her, reassuringly splayed over her rounded belly. "Sorry."

"It's fine, this little guy's just trying to stretch his legs, and my ribs are unfortunately in the way." She shifted in the seat and looked back out the window at the beautiful scenery rolling by. "We did it," she remarked softly and turned to smile at her husband. "We drove the Blue Ridge Parkway and now I get to see where you grew up."

Xavier nodded, his own emotions a little more complicated.

"You okay?" she asked, taking his hand in hers and interlacing their fingers.

"I think so," he said honestly, "just a little…not nervous exactly, just…something."

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."

"The counselor said to leave some space for regret, because regrets aren't always the by product of a wrong choice. That our lives get messy and aren't tied up in pretty happily-ever-after ribbons."

"Wise man," sighed Catherine. "You know, I stole your journaling idea," she added, releasing his hand and rummaging around in her purse.

"You did?"

"Yeah." She pulled out a licorice wand and broke off the tip, popping it in her mouth. Xavier shuddered internally. Crazy pregnancy cravings. He wished it were anything but licorice. Sometimes it felt like he'd picked up the morning sickness where Catherine left off smelling those horrid things.

"I started writing my own letters to people. The first one was to my birth parents. I told them straight up that they choices they made were horrible, but I was choosing to forgive them. Jane told me a story her grandmother used to tell her, about a boy whose brothers tried to kill him. But in the end the boy grew up to be well respected and in a position of power in another country. He said that the Creator had used his brothers' plan for evil to accomplish something good and worthwhile in his life. I think that's what happened with us."

Xavier took his eyes off the road to glance at his wife, chewing away on that awful candy as she stared peacefully at the view, and felt a deep seated contentment wash over him. What an incredible woman she was. She was the one who had suggested he see a No-Maj counselor, and the man had turned out to be immensely helpful, despite the fact that Xavier'd had to figure out how to describe the more recent battles in a way that left out all mention of magic or werewolves.

"I'm really glad that you can look back on everything with that perspective," he said softly. "It was beyond tragic what happened to y'all."

Catherine nodded. "To all of us. But I try not to dwell on that. I write happy letters too. I wrote to Mamá and Papá and told them about the wedding and the baby and our trip to France. I wrote to Xander too. It helps me process things."

"I'm glad. It's helped me too." Xavier lapsed into silence, and Catherine returned to studying the scenery. The small town appeared suddenly around a curve in the road, and Xavier took in a long breath, evaluating how he wanted to do this. He finally decided on circling the small downtown area of Broadway and Cherry Street, getting a feel for how things had changed, before heading for Pine Street, where Mary Ann lived.

Sitting in her quiet living room with a tall, icy glass of very sweet tea, Xavier finally felt himself relax a little. Mary Ann was friendly and sweet, just like he remembered her, if a shade more reserved. That Xavier found perfectly understandable, given this was the first time they'd seen each other in twenty years and their only communication so far had been a letter from him explaining that Xander had died and wanted to convey his remorse about how he handled things with her and their son.

"I'm sorry it took me a while to reply to your letter," Mary Ann said in a gentle drawling voice, her accent heavier than his after he'd spent so many years away. "I wasn't sure I wanted to…to deal with all that. Brendan knows Greg isn't his father, of course, but he was his daddy. Raised him, took care of us. He's a good man. Made chief of police last year."

Xavier nodded. He hadn't been sure he wanted to deal with it all either, but Isabel had finally convinced him to at least write to Mary Ann and let her decide what to tell Xander's son.

"But I figured Brendan's a grown man now, and he had a right to know. Let him maybe grieve his own way. You say you two have been in England this whole time? What took you over there?"

Catherine was looking at all the family photos, framed and scattered across the room, trying to give them a little privacy. Out of the corner of his eye, Xavier saw her pause and pick up a frame, holding it close to her face to study it. She stood there much longer than she'd spent on any of the other pictures, and Xavier finally turned his head to see more clearly what she was doing.

"My wife's family," Xavier finally answered, trying to refocus on the conversation. "Catherine's brother owns a farm over there now. So I help him work that. Catherine's a nurse."

"And you're expecting your first baby? Do you know whether it's a boy or a girl yet?"

"A boy," Xavier couldn't help the small grin that crossed his face.

"Mrs. Davis," Catherine interrupted, "this photo of your son. He looks like he's wearing a team uniform of some kind. What sport did he play?"

Mary Ann hesitated just a split second too long. "It's a funny kind of sport. I'm not sure I remember the name. Brendan went to a private boarding school up north, and they do things like that."

"He did?" Xavier asked in genuine surprise. People from Black Mountain didn't tend to go to boarding schools, and he was certain a police officer's salary wouldn't run to that kind of expense. Catherine handed the photo to Xavier. In it a boy of about fifteen, looking remarkably like Xander, with his same mischievous smile, wore a red and gray sweater holding a wooden bat in one hand and broom in the other—

"Quadpot," he said softly, shaking his head in amazement. "He's a wizard."

Hawthorne & Jane Endress ~ 2002

The letters on the door of the small shop rearranged themselves to spell Open, and Jane turned her attention back to the griddle, the scent of coffee and cinnamon rolls already filling the space. Within just a few minutes, several people were seating themselves at the little tables and holding up cups for the waitresses to fill. It had been an exciting and nerve wracking venture, buying the little tearoom and turning it into an American style diner after Madame Pudifoot decided to close up shop and spend her twilight years in a more tropical climate than Hogsmeade offered. They remodeled and redecorated, and wondered whether the people of the small wizarding village and the local student population would give them a chance. But they needn't have worried. By the end of the first week of them opening, midway through the school year, they were doing a roaring trade.

Flipping over a row of pancakes with a flick of her wand, Jane startled slightly when Hawthorne crept up behind her to kiss her neck. "Good morning to you too," she smiled. "Are you having breakfast before you head up to the school, or are you eating there?"

"Here please. Between you and me, I just can't quite get my stomach to agree with this English idea of breakfast including baked beans."

"No one's making you eat them," she laughed.

"I know, but I still have to look at them."

"Poor thing, you're just a creature of habit. You used to think some of my food was odd too."

"I still do," he smiled at her, pulling her in for another kiss. "I just decided to put up with it because the benefits were too good to pass up."

"Oh, go on," she laughed, swatting him playfully. "I have four orders to finish up."

Hawthorne headed up to the school a short while later and the morning passed in a pleasant blur of cooking and people. By ten o'clock, Jane was able to sit down with her own cup of coffee and start going through shopping lists for the month ahead. The bell announcing a new customer jangled cheerfully, but Jane ignored it, leaving a waitress to handle the order. This time of day people usually just stopped in for tea or coffee and maybe a pastry. But after a moment, the girl peeked her head into the office. "Jane? There's a young man here asking for you."

Pushing back her chair, Jane hurried out front. Maybe Gareth or Joshua was back with news from the reservation. The kids had all planned to visit and see how the others were doing after financial backing from Rodriguez Silver and some of Lina's more shady tactics had succeeded in convincing MCUSA to convert the Northeast Reservation into more of a commune style halfway house for werewolves wanting a fresh start. (If by some strange happenstance MCUSA didn't have any records of there ever being a Northeast Reservation, that was never discussed.)

Jane halted her steps at the sight of the young man. Not either of the ones she'd been expecting. And not a student from the school with an order or a message from Hawthorne either. He appeared to be in his early twenties, and his mop of black curls could have done with a haircut, but she didn't recognize him "Can I help you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Are you…did you used to be Jane Greenbaum?" he asked hesitantly.

Her eyes widened at his clear Bronx accent. "Ye-es," she answered slowly. "My first husband's name was Greenbaum."

"You, uh, you probably don't recognize me," he continued, and began nervously twisting a piece of hair.

Jane felt her heart stop, her memory replaying over and over a small, dark haired boy twisting that same lock of hair to help himself fall asleep at night. She couldn't bring herself to speak, willing him to say the words she'd hoped and prayed she'd get to hear again one day.

"But…um…I'm Joel," he finally said, watching her closely. "I'm your…your son."

Gareth Rodriguez ~ 2004

The pen tapped idly on the edge of his desk as Gareth glanced once more at his wristwatch. He was caught up on all the paperwork Maria, the company's CFO, kept throwing at him, and had bowed out of the dinner party he'd been invited to that evening. He could go home to his apartment, but there wasn't really anything waiting there for him to do either. The housekeeper would have already packed his bags for the trip to England tomorrow.

"Jefe? Why are you still here? I thought you were taking the afternoon off."

Gareth spun in his chair. "Hey Maria. I was just making sure everything was in order before I leave in the morning."

The older woman shot him a skeptical look, but didn't press the issue. "Have you called to tell them that you're coming to see the kids off to school?"

He shook his head. "I was debating whether or not to surprise them. Cadmus is nervous. First werewolf to attend Hogwarts since Remus was there. Gemma's more excited than nervous, but going from homeschool to taking her A Levels at a co-ed boarding school is a big step. Hawthorne says the Headmistress' brother is a wizard he worked with back in Colorado, so she's at least understanding of the…unique situation."

"You should call them. Give the little one something else to focus on besides his nerves."

"That's probably a good idea. Don't you have a meeting now?"

"Sí. But since you're still here I wanted to talk with you about something."

Gareth's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Maria Lopez was a pint-sized, pleasantly plump grandmother, and another of Oscar's numerous cousins. It was solely due to Maria and her brother, Fernán, that Rodriguez Silver had survived while Oscar was attempting to run things from the reservation and Luis was plotting his takeover. She had noticed assets being siphoned away to support Voldemort's campaign, and immediately began her own counter measures, hiding money and finagling the books, intentionally delaying orders and supply shipments. Many had made the mistake of underestimating her financial acumen and tenacious loyalty, but Gareth was not one of them.

She perched on the end of the chair facing his desk, smoothing back a strand of gray hair that had escaped the tight bun at the back of her head. "Jefe, I think while you're in England you should consider working out of the London office."

"Maria, I'm only going to be there a week."

"Permanently."

Gareth didn't even try to hide the shock on his face. "What? Why? That doesn't make sense. The headquarters for the company has always been in Lima."

"And yet your father managed to successfully run it from the middle of nowhere, New York. With magic, it is not that difficult. And your research and development into spells that safely insulate processing chips and other computer hardware mean that shortly we will be able to take advantage of the computer and mobile phone technology that the No-Mágicos have invented. So communication will be even easier."

Frowning, Gareth looked away. "Maria, am I lousing things up?" he asked softly. "If I'm not good at this, just tell me. I don't want to risk the company, and I sure don't want to waste anybody's time if they're having to…to clean up mistakes I make."

"Ay, cielo santo," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I would be the first one to tell you if you were making decisions that negatively impact this company. Your ideas are good, not just the R & D labs, but the work study programs you have put together for the werewolf halfway houses as well. But you are not happy here. It's been almost six years, and you don't have that many friends, and I never hear of you going on a date with a girl more than two times. Your family is in England. Your friends are in England. You should be there too."

Slouching back in his chair, Gareth tried to process what she was saying. Was he unhappy? He didn't think unhappy was quite the right word. Lima wasn't bad, but the shine had worn off the new and exciting experiences. And most people he met didn't really want to get to know him, just what he represented. "I will think about it Maria. Thank you for being honest with me."

The older woman stood and leaned over the desk to pat him on the cheek. "You're a good boy, Jefe. But you don't need to be tied here if your heart would rather be somewhere else."

Gareth smiled. "I've been telling you for six years you don't need to call me Boss."

Maria laughed as she moved towards the door. "I'll keep calling you that until it sinks deep into your soul and you start believing it. Now call home," she admonished, waving toward the old fashioned rotary phone on the desk.

Gareth picked up the handset and began the process of dialing the international number. They were slowly making progress with integrating No-Maj tech. The R & D Labs had gotten a handle on older electronics pretty quickly, but the newer stuff was taking longer. The tone began to sound in his ear and he waited. One. Two. Three.

"Hello?" came a breathless voice at the other end of the line.

"Hey, Gemma? Is that you? It's Gareth."

"Hiya! Oh, please say you're calling to tell me something nice. Today was a nightmare getting fitted for uniforms."

Gareth chuckled and leaned back in the chair, loosening his tie. "I hope you'll think it's nice. I've got a spot booked at the International Apparation site to come home for a few days. I thought I'd see you and Cadmus off to school."

He had to hold the handset away to protect his ear from the piercing shriek that followed his words, returning it when he heard her begin speaking. "Oh Gareth, that's brilliant! Everyone's going to be so excited! Are you going to stay with us? I'll let Mum and Dad know either way. I'm sure that will make Cadmus feel better about going. Hawthorne volunteered to ride on the train with him, but then he was worried about being called a teacher's pet. Hey did I tell you I was able to skip the Introduction to the Western Civilization class and start off with Greco-Roman Studies? The teachers were well impressed with my paper on King Arthur and the Roman Hypothesis. We'll have to plan a big dinner and get together with everyone. I don't think we can do it tomorrow, because Isabel has a show, and Deirdre said she was going with Fred to see it and then meet up with Isabel and George afterwards. But the next day we could I think."

Her flood of conversation paused, and Gareth tried to catch up with everything she said. "Right, not tomorrow because Deirdre's going out with Fred, " he repeated. He opened his mouth to ask how Ellie and Kieran were doing, but Gemma had latched on to his phrase and the sixteen year old was off again with another torrent of words.

"Well, they aren't really going out. At least I don't think they are. You know, she hasn't dated anyone since Nick. You remember him, right? Isabel's friend that joined her band, the one that had green hair for a while. Anyway, I'm not sure why they broke up, Deirdre didn't really talk about it. But she sure hasn't mentioned this thing with Fred being like a real date. I mean, she hasn't said she fancies him or anything. I can ask her if you want, she's here. She stopped by after work to have dinner with us. Hang on."

"No, wait, Gemma. That wasn't what I meant. You don't have to ask her…Gemma?"

Gareth could hear the girl set the phone down and shout something. There was silence, and he sighed, waiting for her to return. The moment's pause gave him time to think about his assumed question. Deirdre couldn't possibly be dating Fred Weasley. Not that he had anything against the guy. George had turned out to be a great match for Isabel, but then Isabel was Isabel. She needed someone who could keep up with her. And Nick was a decent guy too, though Gareth had to admit he didn't think much of the hair color and piercings. It was just that he thought Deirdre needed someone…steadier. Someone more like me, Gareth thought, and his heart stuttered uncomfortably, urging him to derail that particular train of thought. But the train didn't stop. Onward it hurtled, bringing up every memory he had of her. The first time he heard her laugh, walking in the moonlight at Bill's wedding, how she turned up at his birthday party looking like a Golden Age Hollywood starlet and acting so shy, how her eyes flashed when she was upset with him and her face got splotchy when she cried, how she dragged herself out of the pile of rubble at the castle and was more worried about protecting him than herself, how the sunlight had glinted off her hair when she turned away and said she wouldn't come with him to Peru.

He'd tried dating other girls here. But they all had expectations. They were looking for a whirlwind life of balls and embassy dinners and being covered in the latest Rodriguez jewelry designs. Not one of them understood why he found it restful going to Maria's house where there were sure to be lots of family and activity happening at any time of day, or why he liked to sit on the beach and play La Vincuñita on his guitar, or why there was a splintered and painted prototype of a Weasley Four-In-One-Brass-O-Matic Organ in his dining room with an old fedora hanging on one of the pipes. And not once had he felt comfortable telling any of them that he was a werewolf.

"Gareth, are you still there? Deirdre refused to answer, but as I was walking away I heard her mutter that you should just come home and ask her yourself if it bothers you. Are you going to? Please say yes. I figured you wouldn't have asked if you weren't worried about her dating other people. And you have to know how she lights up whenever you're here, the same way you get all tense and silly when you're around her."

It took him a minute to get his mouth to cooperate. "Listen Gem, I have to go, and uh…pack. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"All right. I'll tell Mum and Dad you called. Love you, G. See you tomorrow!"

He slowly replaced the receiver and sat there staring at the phone. After a minute he picked up the handset again and began to dial. Surely it wasn't too late to get a ticket to Isabel's show for tomorrow night.

Isabel Rodriguez ~ 2006

"You're listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network. I'm your host Glenda Chittock, and joining me this evening for Witching Hour will be the founding member and lead singer of the Howling Commandos, Isabel Rodriguez. This band swept the wizarding world over the last eight years, after starting out as an opening act for the internationally acclaimed Weird Sisters, and tonight we will get a peek into the world of a touring rock band and maybe find out what the future has in store for these young musicians. Isabel, thank you so much for joining us."

"Thank you for having me!"

"Now, I understand that after almost eight years you are planning to stop touring. Can you tell us what precipitated that decision?"

"Life moves on, you know? Don't get me wrong, I love touring and maybe someday I'll be able to try it again, but for now I want to focus on other things. So on our tour breaks I've invested a lot of time into working as a studio musician for lots of different No-Maj recording artists. I mean, I'm not a song writer, so I won't be sitting at home penning the next top forty hit. I just want to play music, and I feel that this option allows me to work in all different genres, which I love, and gives me a lot more flexibility with my family life. [laughter] In the No-Maj world I'm not famous at all!"

"You say you've made a bit of a name for yourself among Muggle musicians, but you've also made a name for yourself in the wizarding music industry by including more Squib musicians than any band has before. Would you say you're trying to make something of a statement in that regard?"

"The only statement I'm trying to make is that I appreciate good musicians. I was privileged to grow up where magical and non magical people lived and worked together to try to live the best life they possibly could. And let me tell you, auditioning magical musicians is really hard. There are so many who are decent, but accustomed to using magic to help them play or sound better. Then you have a non-magical musician come and they're able to play just as well. And as a band leader I want to work with the people that I know are going to bring their best and work their hardest, and several times that wound up being someone with no magical ability at all, just determination and a love of music."

"If you can, tell us a little of how you partnered with Weird Sisters. I'm sure all our listeners know that your family was part of the resistance during the war, many people, myself included, were avid listeners of your radio broadcasts during the war."

"Right. So, it's kind of a funny story. We were at Hogwarts when Voldemort attacked, and I was knocked out. So I actually missed the end of the battle. And when I woke up, I look over and see this guy sitting there getting bandaged up. It was the bass player from the Weird Sisters, Alex Russo. And the first words out of my mouth were, 'Hey! I know your cousin. We should totally jam together sometime.' [laughter] I mean, the guy had never seen me before in his life! But he was really nice, and actually said that his mom had mentioned this American girl who needed to learn to focus her energy appropriately. [laughter] A statement my eldest brother would absolutely agree with. Anyway…we wound up talking and then he asked me to come meet the rest of his band. I'm sure he was just feeling sorry for a poor overly enthusiastic wannabe rockstar, but I jumped at the chance! And Alex's cousin, Nick, has been my lead guitarist since we got started."

"So lets go back to your comment about having more flexibility with your family life. Naturally that leads me to a question many fans have been wondering about. Are the rumors true that you really quit touring because you're planning to start a family?"

"Let's say I'm open to the possibility."

"And being married to one half of what could be considered the most famous set of twins in the country, are you hoping for a set of twins yourself?"

"I will tell you exactly what I told George. We'll just wait and see what happens."

Remus & Artemis Lupin ~ 2008

"Esperanza Lupin! Are you ready to go yet?

The eleven-year-old girl clattered down the staircase of an old stone cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, swinging a cage behind her wildly. The small Eastern Screech Owl inside quite frankly looked terrified. "I can't move my trunk, Mum! It's too heavy. You'll have to levitate it down."

Artemis smiled and climbed the stairs to fetch the trunk. "Watch the cage, Ana. That owl looks scared to death."

"Oh, he always looks like that," the girl muttered. "Sorry, Archimedes," she whispered to the cage. The owl ruffled his feathers and tried to look dignified.

Artemis returned, the trunk floating sedately behind her. "Ok, it's time. Can you go get your dad?"

Ana ducked into the drawing room. Remus looked up from the chair where he was reading a storybook to a pair of boys sprawled across the floor, and smiled at the petite brunette with his soft blue eyes. She flung herself into his arms and he kissed the top of her head. "Today's your big day. Are you ready?"

Ana nodded. "I think so. I'm a little nervous about the sorting. I mean, you and Padfoot were both Gryffindors and Mum was a Wampus, and they're both, you know, known for being brave and stuff, so I think I should be there. Cadmus is there too, but Finn says he's not always very brave."

"I'm brave!" piped up the smaller of the two boys. "I'm brave enough to fight dragons!"

"You're not either, Conor!" admonished the older brother. "You still sleep with a night light!"

"That's enough, Leo," Remus admonished. "Now of course I had a wonderful experience being in Gryffindor," he said to Ana, "But what about your Uncle Rolf and Aunt Luna?"

"Oh, well Uncle Rolf went to Ilvermorney like Mum, but he was a Pukwudgie. Aunt Luna was a Ravenclaw…she's funny. She sent me a package saying inside were snallygaster feathers, but it just looked like magpie feathers and some silver glitter to me."

Remus hid a smile. "And your Aunt Lina?"

"Well…" she said, hopping from one foot to the other.

"Aunt Lina was a Slytherin!" interrupted Conor.

"Yeah, and she gets that grumpy look on her face when Padfoot teases her about snakes," added Leo.

"But she's tough," argued Ana, "and she's fun…and Mister Sev was in Slytherin too, so that might be all right."

Remus chuckled. "Just remember to address him as Headmaster. I don't think he'll take too kindly to the rest of the students knowing you call him Mister Sev. And don't forget, Finn is starting his third year in Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, it'd be cool to be with him."

"I don't think you need to worry. Each house turns out excellent witches and wizards. And your house doesn't have to define the rest of your life. What did your mum say about school?"

"Work hard. Have fun. Don't get kicked out."

"Then that's all you need to do. You're going to have a wonderful time."

"I know." Ana squared her shoulders and shook back her dark hair. "Well, if you were brave enough to fight dark wizards. I guess I can be brave enough to be sorted anywhere."

Remus pushed himself up from his chair and took Ana's hand, "Come on, boys. Grab your jumpers so we can see Ana off on the train."

"Why does she have to take the train?" piped Conor in his little voice. "We always walk up to the school."

"Tradition," answered Remus firmly, herding them along.

Artemis waited by the kitchen fireplace for her family, doling out the appropriate jumpers to each one before grabbing the jar of Floo Powder. "I tucked a box of chocolate muffins into your trunk, so don't forget to pull them out when you get to your dorm room. Did you remember to pack the presents from Lina and Sirius?"

Ana nodded, smiling mischievously. "Uncle Padfoot gave me a box from Weasley's Wheezes to open when I get to school. Aunt Lina said to owl them for suggestions on what to do with the stuff."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "Of course they did. Harry didn't give you his map of the school, did he?"

Ana widened her eyes innocently. "No, he didn't give me a map, just a new quill and some spare parchment, and said I had to carry on the legacy or something like that, and that Dad would deny being com…complacent…"

"Complicit," whispered her dad.

"Yeah, complicit in any way if I get into trouble using it."

Remus snorted a laugh and Artemis glared at him. "She gets that from your side," she muttered.

Remus widened his eyes in the same innocent look Ana had worn moments before. "My side? I'm not the one with a criminal record." He laughed at Artemis' withering look. "Come along now, Platform 9 ¾ is waiting."

Archimedes arrived the next morning with a single photograph clutched in his talons. Ana and Finn waved happily out of the picture wearing matching black t-shirts with "Hufflepunks" emblazoned across the front in large yellow letters.