pace no trovo

Finding Peace

by spinner

"I planted more lilac bushes. It appears someone ate the others, not sure. Hermione says hello. Neville too. Did I mention Neville and Luna are getting married tomorrow?"

Harry's voice trailed into quietness, hushed by the sounds of twilight at the abandoned farm and forest around him. Kneeling before a marble memorial etched with the Weasley Family's names, and the Delacours' names as well, Harry felt the same thing he had felt each of the six nights he had come hoping to connect with Ron or Ginny or anyone. He could not sense them here— no presence, no anger, no mournful shades waiting to get in the last word with him before departing to the Great Beyond. He could sense nothing here at all but the forest itself and the creatures which were scurrying about in search of a meal or companionship.

The burned-out structure of the Burrow had been leveled, and the gaping, black holes had been filled in with soil, although Harry knew where it all should have been. He raised his head, and in his mind's eye, he could imagine the angled, disjointed, out-of-kilter house where he had spent so many wonderful hours. Molly Weasley's beloved garden had taken over the new soil where the house had been, doubling in size. Melon vines heavy with fruit were tangling around each other. Tomato plants were bent over with their offerings. String beans ran wild in every direction. Carrot tops marched in lines like unruly soldiers. It was truly harvest time, as the rising full September moon could attest.

At least someone was reaping the rewards of this great bounty. Harry could see there were animal tracks throughout the vegetable patch. When he sat very still and reached out with his supernatural sensory feelings, Harry discovered at least a hundred mice in their new home under the pumpkin patch. A rabbit peeked at him from behind the over-turned wheelbarrow that had been taken hostage by a particularly-hearty white rose bush. There were no less than five deer waiting in a nearby oak tree cluster. They would amble over for a bite to eat once he was gone. From under the blueberry and raspberry bushes, a snake hissed and watched, hoping a mouse or two would come closer.

There was life here—life in abundance, but there was no death. Harry wondered why this made him so mournful.

"I hope everything is well with you," Harry said finally. He brushed the dust off the memorial edge again, and felt a presence at his shoulder. It was altogether human and corporeal, complete with the warmth of breath and the tickle of hair against Harry's shoulder.

"This place is giving me the chills," Modesto murmured. Teddy clicked her staff to the ground as a warning to Guido, who continued most cautiously, ever mindful of Morgenrot's long reach. "Master, it's going to be dark soon," he whispered to Harry.

"You aren't afraid of the dark, are you?" Harry asked him.

"Master, the dark is afraid of me," Modesto replied, his smile boastful even as worry sent a spasm through his features. "I worry not for myself, but for you."

Harry would have preferred to have come alone, but Severus and Dumbledore neither one would not let him leave Hogwarts' grounds without protection. While in the past Harry might have balked at such restrictions being placed on his person, after two attempts on his life in the last month alone, he was starting to appreciate having an assassin, a healer, and a bodyguard at his beck and call. Modesto wasn't the only nervous one though. Stoneburne seemed to scan all horizons at once, and gave an innocent copse of elm trees more than one careful inspection with his piercing eyes. Teddy was some twenty yards out from Harry's position, tracing patterns in the ground with her staff as she walked around in a perimeter. Harry knew she was drawing protective runes as she ambled in her circular path around him.

"Can you sense them?" Modesto asked, in awe of Harry's powers if not in awe of Harry himself.

"No," Harry admitted. "I thought I'd find someone here, but there's no one."

His disappointment was tangible. Modesto studied him and nodded.

"Maybe you're not feeling them because they have passed on," he suggested.

"A violent death often causes ghosts. If someone has died with business left to tend to, with unresolved problems……"

"Violent death does not always make a ghost, Master," Modesto offered as gently as he could. "Perhaps because they departed together, they lie in peace."

Harry turned sideways and scorched Modesto with an annoyed glance. The assassin gave a mild shrug, surrendering his words to the wind.

"If they do lie in peace, you shouldn't disturb them," Modesto said as he climbed to his feet and offered an arm down to Harry. Harry put both hands on the ground and opened his senses once again. Guido danced back out of arms' reach and threw up a protective circle around his person—a faint glow of green light that masked his many secrets from Harry's indigo magic. Teddy's staff scraped the ground, and Harry felt the protection rune she was drawing as it sank into the earth like sweet syrup through sponge cake.

"Someone's coming….." Harry whispered, straining with concentration.

A hair-raising howl rose into the night, followed by several answering cries. The small family of deer who had been waiting for Harry to leave the memorial garden raced past him now like tall, thin ballerinas in a great big hurry. Guido yanked Harry to his feet and drew his silver-tipped wand, lengthening it into a rapier. Teddy's ears and eyes pricked upwards as Stoneburne drew his wand and aimed it at the forest edge. Teddy took up a position before Guido and Harry. She touched her staff to the last rune she had drawn, and the letters illuminated in the growing darkness. Harry wryly thought one could have landed a plane in all the light her magic was giving off. Although the runes didn't form a complete circle, but Teddy stood in the unmarked space, holding her healing staff like the tremendous weapon it was.

Branches and bushes and bramble at the forest edge were ripped apart as a ghostly-white form manifested. Too large to be a normal dog, the gigantic hound was pulling hard and fast across the field, panting with terror, eyes wide with fear, leaving a flying trail of blood droplets in its wake. The animal was in grave danger, and Harry couldn't stop the need to protect which welled up inside him.

Harry was running past Guido and past Teddy before they could stop him, wand drawn, his considerable anger his only shield. Six or seven black and gray forms chased along the same path the white form had torn through the bramble. There was another round of howls, along with barking and snapping and leaping and growling. Their excitement and anticipation of the kill was making them salivate with glee. Wolves—Harry knew. He put away his wand and concentrated harder.

The white form ran awkwardly past Harry, bouncing and then holding up one front leg close to its body. It hid itself on the far side of the memorial, panting and whimpering. Harry felt a wave of fear and pain as it hurried past him. Pounding feet and heavy breath were hurrying up behind Harry's location, but not fast enough. Stoneburne was less than ten feet away from Harry, and was alive with the fear that the forest wolves were going to reach Potter before he could.

"Come on, you bastards," Harry snarled, whipping his hand above himself in the air. An aura of indigo magic lit the space around Harry. Potter was suddenly on all fours, bounding forward to meet the predators as he transfigured. The wolves' howls were replaced by whimpering and snapping as they were greeted not by the smallish human male they had been expecting to rip to shreds, but by Harry's near-perfect imitation of a fearsome werewolf. It was the first thing he thought of conjuring that might scare them. He remembered his own horrified shock the first time he had seen Remus Lupin transform into his wolfish alter-ego. He put every ounce of energy into creating his own nightmare beast.

Startled, the wolves ran into each other to avoid hitting the new, dangerous creature, and then hung back when Potter snatched ghastly claws at the largest of their number and scored his shoulder with rows of bloody tears. Harry roared at them and gnashed his teeth, and they backed up further, snipping at him in whimpering voices. He bristled all the fur along his back and howled at them with bloodlust that could be translated into any language either human or animal in origin.

"POTTER!!!" Stoneburne boomed. A red energy wave rolled past the Harry-wolf's legs and bowled the other wolves head over heels back from him. Another wave hit them, and they were sent scurrying back across the fields and into the safety at the forest's edge. Radiant, malevolent eyes watched from a safe distance as the man-wolf dissolved once more into the smallish human male. Stoneburne grabbed Harry by both shoulders and shook him in fury as he lifted him off the ground.

"If you ever! EVER! EVER DO THAT AGAIN, SO HELP ME!! GREAT MOTHER!!" Owen threatened, full of horror and wonder and admiration at once. Harry grinned at him sheepishly, and Stoneburne put him back on solid ground. "You're going home! Ought to stripe your hide for pulling that kind of shit!"

Stoneburne pushed Harry back towards the Weasley Memorial, cuffing him twice in the head for good measure. Modesto was chuckling at Owen. Teddy was murmuring gentle, soothing words to the white hound hiding under the memorial. Guido had put away his wand but was watching the forest edge, where the malevolent eyes waited, dancing around impatiently.

"All right, love. It's all right. Let Teddy see? I'll make it better, I promise."

"There's no time for that. Pick her up and let's go," Stoneburne ordered. Teddy glared at him.

"Do you mind if I do a rudimentary check here so we know what we're dealing with? What if she's got broken ribs?"

"They aren't going to wait over there forever," Modesto called. "The big one is scratching around outside the trees already."

Stoneburne got down on his knees and reached both hands into the mounds of long, matted white fur streaked with blood. Growling erupted, followed by painful whimpers.

"Go! Go! Now!" Stoneburne ordered the others as teeth sank into his forearm.

"Are there pictures?" Harry asked Hermione. Granger flipped through the large tome she was holding, Highland Hounds and How to Handle Them, and she exclaimed in excitement.

"Yes! Right here. It's like they've got her portrait."

She flashed the page at Harry, and Potter's eyes got large. He compared the picture of the tall, noble animal on the page to the wretched, bedraggled creature hiding inside his bed sheets, and slowly begrudged a nod. Only a true optimist like Hermione would have seen the resemblance at first.

"Irish wolfhound," he agreed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. The entire Black Queen's Tower was alive with excitement. Harry wanted all the gathered students to take their noise and chatter back to their dorms and leave him alone-- well as alone as he could be, thanks to the curious wisdom of Albus Dumbledore.

"You aren't going to be able to keep that here," Draco called from the other side of the room. "I've got an important Potions assignment to finish before Monday morning, and she's not going to stay here. I mean it."

Draco was sitting in his bed, pretending to be reading his Potions textbook, but Harry knew he was as keenly interested in what was happening as the other students who were gawping in through the opened bedroom door.

The ghostly-white form shivering in Harry's bed eyed the young people nervously, but then again, who wouldn't have been anxious with forty beady eyes and round mouths staring back at them? Teddy had healed the large dog's front leg, which had been ripped and broken during the wolf attack, and had seen to her many other injuries as well. Morgenrot was talking with Professor McGonagall in the hallway. Snatches of their conversation might have been possible to overhear if not for the other students showering Harry with questions.

"What's her name, Harry?"

"Are you going to keep her?"

"Where'd you find her?"

A barrage of questions came at Potter, and he brushed them away with a shrug or two. He wanted everyone to go back where they came from so he could work on gaining a measure of trust with the scared animal curled up in his bed, mostly for practical reasons. It was past ten, and he could use some sleep, actually, and that wasn't going to be possible if she was both afraid of him and sitting in his spot. Large black eyes followed him wherever he moved, tense and upset and anxious.

"Know any painless cleaning spells?" Harry whispered to Hermione. "Something that wouldn't scare her?"

"She's going to have to have more than a lick and a promise, Harry," Hermione whispered back. "You're going to have to shave her fur and let it grow back. She's a complete shambles."

"I'd pay good money to see you try and shave that beast," Draco muttered, chuckling. "Is it true she ripped off Stoneburne's arm?"

"No. Madam Pomfrey is patching him up. He's going to be fine," Harry said.

Draco climbed off his covers, coming to disdainfully inspect the new arrival with his Potions text in hand. Harry read the title Soothing Uneasy Spirits, and shook his head at Draco.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned, pointing at the book.

"I don't know what you mean," Malfoy sniffed, hiding the tome behind his back.

"You'll be sorry," Harry warned.

"Where did you find your girlfriend, Potter? Roaming loose in the forest, was she? I'm not surprised. Someone probably dumped her there and put her under a banishment spell so she couldn't find her way home," Malfoy muttered, gleeful with the mental image those words conjured for him. Harry did his best to ignore Draco, but that only served to egg him onto saying more disruptive things. "It's a shame your godfather isn't around, Potter."

"Why is that?" Harry asked.

"They'd make a perfect couple," Draco grinned.

"Go back to your lair and quit pestering her before she yanks your arm off," Harry muttered. Malfoy stepped closer still, leaning in for a better look.

"She could use a bath," he commented, sniffing. "Or do your sheets always smell that way?"

"Maybe we should abandon you in the forest and see how clean you can stay," Hermione countered. Harry slid a cautious hand forward to rest on the wolfhound's nearest paw. He was relieved when the dog didn't pull away.

"Don't listen to him, love. His toes are like old cheese and fish-heads. We'll get you cleaned up," Harry soothed the hound.

"You sure she's not an animagus come to kill you in your sleep?" Draco tormented happily.

"Genuine dog, through and through," Harry said. "Teddy tested her out."

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall's voice echoed in the room as she shooed the rest of the students back out into the hallway and closed the door in their curious faces. "Mr. Potter, school rules limit students to either a cat, a toad, or an owl."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "I know."

"It's simply not practical to have a beast that huge wandering around behind you or lounging around your room while you're in class," Minerva sputtered, adjusting her hat. "To say nothing of the necessity of letting her out all times of the day and night to do her business."

"Yes, Professor," Harry repeated. "I know she's not allowed, but if I could have time to find her a good home….."

"You must write an ad for the Prophet. We'll see if anyone is missing a hound that meets her description."

"Found: mangy, flea-bitten sack of bones."

"Mr. Malfoy, don't make me get my wand out," McGonagall chided. Draco gave her an obsequious bow and practically tip-toed back to his bed, all the while casting smirking smiles at Harry and Hermione. "It's time you were all asleep as it is, what with all the excitement tomorrow," McGonagall added. "Perhaps she could spend one night, or two at the most, but, Harry, students are not permitted dogs, and certainly not outrageously-large Irish wolfhounds."

"I could shrink her," Harry offered with a small, hopeful smile. Hermione nearly giggled. Professor McGonagall produced her wand, and with a small whip in the air, created a cushiony, circular, thin mattress. It settled down on the ground next to Harry's bed. Tartan blankets popped into being out of thin air. A water bowl and food bowl appeared, complete with kibble.

"We'll settle the situation tomorrow," Minerva promised before turning on her heel and heading out of the tower room. Hermione lingered long enough to hand the huge tome over to Harry and pat the hound on the head. She said a quick goodbye, and hurried away as well.

In the silence, Harry stared at the hound, down at the mattress, and back at the hound. It was clear from the dog's expression that she was wondering how comfortable Harry was going to be on that little mattress down there. Harry was wondering how he was going to get her off his bed so he could perform a quick cleaning spell on the sheets and get a little sleep. Draco noisily turned a page in his Potions text, pretending he wasn't watching Harry and the hound size one another up.

"Think I'll have a bath," Harry murmured, standing up from the bed. Draco was on his feet and headed for the bathroom before Harry could summon a change of clothes from his armoire. "Where are you going?" Potter scowled at Malfoy.

"You never get out of the tub in under half an hour," Draco complained, inches from the door.

"You can't hold it for half an hour?" Harry bellowed, hurrying.

Draco was inside with the lock turned before Harry got past the large table in the middle of the room. Potter stood in front of the door, glowing with anger, holding his pajamas absently over one arm. He thought he heard a pitter-pattering behind him, but he didn't turn around. He did, however, yelp loudly and reach behind himself when he felt a wet, bristly nose nudge up between his legs in the most intrusive manner. He spun in surprise, and the hound gave him a look of twinkling mischief and loving adoration at once. Harry carefully retrieved his pajamas from the floor where he had dropped them.

"Don't do that," he whispered. He faced the door again, and this time, the hound nudged his hand, sticking her wet muzzle in his palm as she leaned against his side. "I don't care how you say hello in the dog world, humans don't like it when you stick your nose in their butts," he chided her quietly. The hound leaned more heavily against him and sighed.

"What an auspicious companion you have, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, quite," Harry said grimly. "Thank you," Harry added, wondering if they meant Stoneburne. Owen, however, had already vanished into the crowds without a single trace. Harry wasn't sure Mrs. Longbottom had had time to notice him. Harry had assumed Hermione would be his 'date' to the wedding, but Granger had chosen to bring Stoneburne's son Burnie instead for no reason Harry had been able to decipher for himself. Harry wondered what would happen when Owen found out his son had come to the festivities as well. Last he had heard, Burnie and Brim were grounded for the whole astral plane-runic circle incident involving using their younger sister as a test subject.

"Harry, this is my Grandmother Augusta and my great uncle Algie," Neville said, greeting Harry at the entrance to the gardens at The Longbottom Estates.

"Sorry about….you know….but she wouldn't stay at home," Harry stammered, getting another nose in the backside as the hound hid behind him.

"That's all right, dear," Neville's grandmother said, reaching forward a bony-thin hand and patting a space of nearly-naked dog flank. "Neville told me all about her. Had to shave her, did you? Poor dear looks embarrassed."

"Shaving a wolfhound. Not an easy task," Algie chuckled.

"Not a bit," Harry replied.

"It'll all grow back, love," Augusta crooned lovingly. "Bring her in, Mr. Potter. She's most welcome. I'll teach you a hair-growing spell, and we'll have her looking like a new dog in no time. We'll make a handsome beast of her."

"Thank you for your gift. We opened it early because it arrived….early!" Neville whispered, his voice rising in a shout as they walked behind Augusta and her brother. Harry glanced down to see that his hound had stuck her nose between Neville's thighs.

"Stop that," Potter chided her gently. She trotted on ahead of him and Neville as they spoke. "You're welcome," he said calmly to Neville. "Glad you like it. I didn't know what to get. Everyone had all kinds of advice, most of it bad. But someone very small and wise said to give you what you most desired, and I decided what two newly-married people needed was a romantic dinner in a quiet, little out-of-the-way place with candlelight and soft music and sun and each other, most of all, and ….oh, for the love of Merlin, will you quit doing that to people? It's really embarrassing!"

Augusta Longbottom silenced her undignified squeal of surprise and rearranged her skirt, giving Harry's hound a narrow-eyed glance. The huge dog slinked back to Harry's side, nosing his palm and acting guilty.

"Luna gushed and gushed about it. She's never been to Santa Lucia. I've never been either. Reckon I'll need to buy some sunscreen potions," Neville continued.

"Fiona!" Augusta Longbottom called out, waving enthusiastically to a young witch in an elegant, green velvet dress and hat. Harry felt his wolfhound's head bounce out from under his hand. She looked up and turned towards Neville's grandmother as if very confused. "Fiona!" Augusta called again, and the dog become even more anxious, giving an urgent bark. The young witch's face lit up. She waved back, picked up her flute glass of champagne, and hurried across the crowded gardens.

"My cousin Fiona," Neville whispered in warning as the witch hurried closer. She was practically at a full run, not an easy task in a long skirt and high heels. Harry was busy admiring her athletic skills, and wondering if the bodice in her dress was going to survive. "Unmarried," Neville managed to add without moving his lips.

"Eek," Harry responded without moving his mouth either. Fiona came to a screeching halt, dress intact, and righted herself. She adjusted her hat, and put on a beaming smile, flashing it directly at Potter. She towered over him, and all Harry could think was that she had Neville's big teeth, down to the last, square, white chicklet. She had to be close to ten years older than Harry too.

"Harry Potter, this is my granddaughter Fiona Buckley. Fiona, this is Harry Potter," Augusta said. Neville's cousin pushed her empty hand at Harry, and he slid his own into hers.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter. Neville's told me all about you."

"No, I haven't," Neville defended quietly to Harry.

"Did so," Fiona huffed.

"Did not," Neville answered. Potter was having a hard time not cracking up into laughter. He waited and waited until he could manage to control himself, and his face gave way to a careful smile as he shook her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Buckley. What a coincidence."

"What is that?" she asked breathlessly.

"I think Fiona is her name too," Harry said.

Neville's cousin shrieked and tossed her glass skyward. She whirled around and shooed the errant wolfhound away from the back of her expensive dress. Neville and Harry were unceremoniously splashed with what little champagne remained in Fiona's glass after her incredible sprint. Augusta went purple, produced a kerchief, and dabbed the boys off quickly as she spouted apologies. For his part, Uncle Algie was not even attempting to keep a straight face. His laughter echoed up into the air. Harry's wolfhound slinked back behind him, and put her nose in his palm. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say she was hiding her face in embarrassment.

"So….dreadfully…..sorry," Fiona stammered, dabbing off Harry's dress robes a second time with her own hanky while Augusta dried off Neville's formerly immaculate tuxedo.

"Not at all," Harry gave a friendly smile. He leaned close to whisper to her. "Confidentially, ma'am, it's not the worse thing I've been splashed with."

Fiona's face went red and her mouth fell open for a second in shock before she pealed nervous laughter.

"Dreadfully sorry," she repeated again.

"Tell me how this sounds? 'Found in the vicinity of Ottery St. Catchpole, a white female Irish wolfhound who answers to the name Fiona- - -"

"How do you know her name?" Severus asked, glancing up from his pile of essays and giving a patient sigh.

"I found out by accident. It's a long story," Harry grinned at him from his chair before the desk. "You missed the wedding. Why did you miss the wedding?"

"I was in no mood for a wedding today."

"Neville and Luna were thrilled with your gifts, Neville most of all. I thought he was going to cry. He carried it with him the rest of the day. So very lavish, his gran called it. She's going to send you a personal thank you."

"Nonsense. Not lavish at all. It was an extremely practical gift for Mr. Longbottom."

"An engraved membership pass to the Royal Wizarding Botanical Gardens, with specimen sample privileges, and a plot of his own to plant for display? Lavish," Harry teased. "Quite posh. You almost made Neville cry. Luna couldn't stop saying nice things about you all day either. She never told any of us what was in the vial you gave her, but she had it on a cord around her neck during the ceremony. She didn't let it out of her sight."

"Birth control potion," Severus mused.

"Was not!" Harry gasped.

"Actually, it's a fertility potion," Snape admitted. "A little bird told me her greatest desire is to be a mother, and I wanted to help, properly, without any actual physical contact."

"How ironic, because she was very touched."

"Then it's a very good thing I did not attend. I abhor sentimental scenes. Go on with your notice."

"Blah, blah, blah '.....hound who answers to the name Fiona. Approximate age two years. If you are missing such a hound, please contact Harry Potter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' You're making that face. I've done something stupid."

"Dear Mr. Potter. I've lost my Irish wolfhound. How sweet of you to find her. Please marry me."

"What?" Harry puzzled, lowering his parchment.

"Take your name out of the notice, and put my name in."

"Why?" Harry questioned tartly.

"Because, under unbearable duress from parties who shall remain nameless, I've agreed to let your beast stay at Ravensrood until you find her rightful owner. You and I are going to take her over there tomorrow morning. If you put your name on that notice, every single witch in the surrounding vicinity will suddenly have lost a white Irish wolfhound answering to the name Fiona. I don't want Whisper to be over-burdened with false claims."

"He has a good point, Harry," a third voice called from in front of the fireplace. Harry glanced over at Albus Dumbledore, who was seated firmly on the infamous velvet couch, smiling to himself in a way that made Harry somewhat embarrassed. When the crafty wizard had said that Harry and Severus would never be alone without a chaperon, Harry never dreamed he would volunteer himself for the task whenever the need should arise. Well, Harry sighed, it could have been worse.

"I'll take my name out and put your name in. Happy?" Potter asked Snape.

"No," Severus responded.

"Good," Harry teased, using a quill from the desk to make corrections. When finished, he brandished the feather at Severus, tickling the side of the Potions Master's cheek as Snape was marking essays. Severus raised his dark eyes and one dark brow, brandishing his own quill against Harry. Potter darted back out of reach, grinning.

"Brat," Severus whispered.

"Are you going to tell me why you're in a bad mood?" Harry asked softly.

"It's near the end of September, Mr. Potter, one of those times of the year when I go to Gringotts, inspect the family vaults, cover the bills, pay the mortgages, return an accounting statement to Grandfather so he would know how much money is available to continue repairs and upkeep around the place."

"Ah," Harry said with a barely-repressed smile concealed behind a serious face.

"Imagine my surprise to discover that my mortgage payments were refused because someone….someone…..has paid those debts in their entirety, the same someone, I suspect, who put quite an enormous sum of money into my family vaults."

"Maybe the goblins made a mistake?"

"Maybe the goblins nothing. How the hell did you get into my family vaults to leave such lavish amounts of coinage? I thought you donated all that money to the CeeBees. That's what you told me you had done."

"I did give most of it to Sister Sylvia."

"Most? Ah. Most. Mr. Potter, you lied to me."

"I did not."

"The word you used last time was 'all', Mr. Potter."

"And I wasn't lying. You asked me after I had my little chat with the goblins, and I truthfully told you that all the money I had left had gone to Sister Sylvia."

"When exactly were you going to tell me you paid off the mortgages at my family home?"

"I sweet-talked a couple goblins. Not very difficult."

"Damned charisma spell. When were you going to tell me what you had done?"

"Never," Harry grinned again, feeling just a little tipsy after downing several glasses of champagne at Neville and Luna's wedding.

"I can't allow you to do this. Those funds belonged to you. They were yours, in recompense," Severus protested, deeply troubled.

"I told you I wasn't going to keep a sickle of that money. I didn't want it. My logic wasn't hard to follow. She did have a hand in destroying your home. It's only fitting Lestrange should have to pay for rebuilding it, don't you find?"

"While I cannot help but agree with your logic, I simply will not abide these undeniably Slytherin techniques you've been employing to do nice things for me while I'm not looking."

"Don't you hate that in a person? Nice. Eww. Horrible." Harry pretended to shudder, and happily claimed a quick half-smile from Severus. A sour frown quickly followed on its heels.

"Mr. Potter, I think it best you leave my office this very instant."

"You do? Why?" Harry questioned, seeing right through the dark façade Severus was put on his face as cover.

"Because if you do not, I'm going to put down my quill, get up from my chair, chase you around wildly in an undignified manner, grab you, throw you across this desk, and choke you till you are gasping, pleading, begging for mercy."

"Mmmm. Would you really?" Harry whispered huskily. He leaned one elbow on the desk and flashed a flirty smile at Severus.

From the velvet couch, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen," he cautioned, straightening his half-moon glasses and staring sternly at them both.

"Out, Potter!" Severus bellowed, pointing to the door with the end of his quivering quill.

"Come along, Harry," Dumbledore said, winking at Snape before trotting to the office door. When Albus's back was turned, Severus slid a sheet of paper into Harry's grip.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"A repayment schedule. You will permit me the dignity of repaying the debts that I now owe to you," Severus growled. "Sign at the bottom, or else."

"What if I don't?" Harry tormented.

"If you don't….." Severus threatened, leaving the sentence unfinished as he stood up and leaned close to Harry.

"Yes????" Harry waited, hungrily licking his lips. Severus drew the edge of his feather down Harry's cheek.

"Sign," Snape ordered firmly.

"Harry, do hurry," Dumbledore called from outside in the hall. If he heard the muffled sound of their hurried kiss, the Headmaster didn't give any indications.

The office door closed behind Harry, and he followed the Headmaster back to the Black Queen's Tower, smiling the entire way.

"Potter! Potter!"

Frantic whispers roused Harry from his sleep. There was another form on Harry's bed. Potter thought at first that it was the dog, but he realized she must be the one standing at the end of his bed barking at the flickering apparition taking shape in his room. The second form in Potter's bed was Draco Malfoy, and he had both arms latched around Harry's neck.

Harry fumbled for his glasses and tried unsuccessfully to pry Draco off of himself. The apparition was getting brighter, a column of sheer flame that licked both ceiling and floor. Inside the flames, an imposing specter of a woman raged at them, screaming with fury. She billowed soot and ash around herself in the whirling air. Any skin that might have been visible under her crispy, singed hair and cloak and clothing was burnt the same color of charcoal as the rest of her. The valiant defender was barking with all her might, dodging forward to nip at the flames even.

"Fiona, stop it," Harry ordered sleepily.

"Is that who I think it is?!" Draco whimpered as he gaped open-eyed and open-mouthed at the apparition. Well, she was an impressive sight, Harry agreed. She was ten feet tall in flames, her face charred and drawn in agony, her eyes red and wild. The floor boards were starting to burn though. This might get serious soon.

"Go back to bed and let me sleep," Harry mumbled, shoving at Malfoy to get him to let go. He lay back down even though Draco wasn't yet off the bed.

"Is that who I think it is?!" Draco screamed again at Harry, as if it was somehow Potter's doing. "How do we get rid of her!?!"

"Pour out your vial of 'Ghost of a Chance', and she'll disappear," Harry promised, shooing Draco away.

"How did you know that's what I have? It's not even fermented yet!"

"She's here, ain't she?" Harry growled. "She thinks you're trying to banish her. It's her tower, you ungrateful wretch. Go pour out your potion."

"That's my assignment for Monday morning!" Draco yelled back, not moving an inch. Harry sat up again, opened his hand, and the vial in question flew across the room to him. He opened and upended it on the floor as Draco sputtered with shock and anger.

The ghost focused her fury against the young men, looming closer with more furious intent. She was now singing their clothes and Harry's bedcovers. But as soon as the vial contents melted into the wood and were gone, she started to calm down. Harry let the empty container fall away and roll under his bed, and he showed her both of his hands. She shivered, and the flames around her deflated and cooled. The smoldering floorboards crackled ominously. Harry tossed off his smoking bedcovers and patted at them haphazardly.

"It's all right. He won't make any more here. I promise," Harry said to the diminished specter. She stared at him with hollow-red eyes and opened her mouth to speak.

"Pace no trovo," she hissed, spreading soot and sorrow in her wake. "Pace no trovo."

"He won't make any more here," Harry said again.

The wolfhound burst into a new round of barking when the tower room door flew open. A cloud of soot and ash choked Harry and Draco's breathing as the specter vanished into thin air. Streams of water flooded the floors and geysers of it gushed into Harry's bed. Sputtering, Harry stumbled up on his feet, yelling in protest. Malfoy had been fast enough to avoid the downpour, and was laughing like a hyena from a safe distance away.

"Oh, damn, sorry," Teddy moaned, lowering her staff. She rubbed a hand back over her eyes and up into her loose hair. "Sorry. The ward alarms went off. I was….sure I smelled….smoke. Sorry, Mr. Potter."

Harry flung off droplets of water in all directions, glaring at Malfoy as Morgenrot shook the sleep from her face and eyes.

"Did I see someone….standing…..?" Teddy pointed to the burn marks on the floor, sending a light orb to the ceiling to examine the evidence of flames. "You boys been playing with incendio spells?" she demanded.

"No, but he's been busy scaring the restless dead," Harry muttered, pointing at Draco, who was coiled up neatly on the end of his own bed again. Was Malfoy trying to look innocent? Harry squelched his way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of water behind himself. He hoped he had another set of clean pajamas hanging on the back of the door.

"Terribly sorry," Teddy repeated helplessly. The wolfhound lapped once at Teddy's hand before trotting after Harry.

"Whisper!" Severus shouted as he emerged from the Floo and landed in the large sitting room at Ravensrood. The fireplace behind him belched again, and deposited two more forms on the floor. One rolled gracefully to its feet and shook out its new and improved fur. The second landed in a tangle of limbs and groaned in pain.

"Ungh."

"I see the Headmaster alerted you to our imminent arrival," Snape said dryly, putting a hand down and helping Harry to his feet. The head house elf smiled wanly at the two of them, and eyed the third form with some trepidation, which was perfectly understandable. The huge wolfhound stood taller than Whisper, and was sniffing her way completely around the house elf in a manner most beings would find incredibly intrusive. Harry covered his eyes in embarrassment, and Severus swallowed back a chuckle at Whisper's obvious discomfort.

"Fiona," Harry whispered. The dog snuffled one of Whisper's cheeks, and began licking her large ears. Whisper held remarkably still, all things considered. "Fiona, will you stop that?" Harry chided.

"Is this the beast in question, Master Severus?" Whisper asked.

"She is," Snape replied.

"How fortuitous, your arrival then. There's a large Scotsman in the front foyer, says he's looking for his hunting hound."

"I'll be more than happy to talk to him," Snape said, clapping both hands together and hurrying in the direction of the foyer. Whisper was glued to her spot, eyeing the huge hound.

"She's really very gentle," Harry promised.

"Mm hmm," Whisper murmured.

"Maybe she thinks you smell good," Harry suggested.

"No doubt true. I've been in the kitchens, giving counsel to Fyodor about what we should have for lunch," Whisper interjected. Harry put both hands around the wolfhound's muzzle, and knelt down to face the dog.

"If you don't stop, Whisper is going to zap you. You don't want to be zapped, do you? She might turn you into a Chihuahua."

"Sugar! Sugar!" a voice shouted in the hallway. The hound jerked away from Harry and bolted for the door. If the door hadn't been where she had aimed, Harry was certain the Snapes would have had to have repaired the sitting room wall. A large man loomed in the archway, and the hound bounced up and down in order to kiss and nip and lick at him with delight and obvious recognition. Harry's heart dropped out through his chest. The howling-happy hound got narrowly close to a small table and unseated an enormous vase. Severus snatched the priceless object out of mid-air and rested it on the highest step he could reach from the foyer floor.

"Thank the gods," Whisper whistled, relaxing.

"Seems she knows you," Snape murmured to the big man. He was beaming happily, pounding his chest and hugging the hound when she leapt up at him. She walked all around him and barked, then charged back at Harry. Potter was surprised when she rushed behind him and nudged him towards the doorway.

"Sugar! That's not nice. We don't rush people. He's not a pheasant," the big man said as Harry emerged shyly from around the door frame.

"Sugar? Is that her name? I thought it was Fiona," Harry said softly.

"Oh, no. Fiona's my wife. But Sugar's heard the name enough, to be sure. My name's McDermott. Nice to meet you."

Harry shyly accepted the handshake, feeling positively tiny in comparison to the big man.

"Mr. Potter is the one who found your hound," Snape pointed out as they shook hands.

"That Harry Potter, eh? I thought you looked familiar," McDermott said, giving a broad smile. He shook shaggy ruddy-blond hair out of his eyes and grinned a second time. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. Thank you very much for rescuing the lass. She got separated from the rest of the pack about a week ago, and I was sure she was never coming back. I tried to find her in the forest, but she's one for playing hide and seek with you too. It's lucky for her you found her."

"You're welcome," Harry said sadly.

"I saw the ad this morning in the Prophet and said, well, if she knows who Fiona is, then it's Sugar, that's for certain."

"Very lucky then," Harry tried out a smile. The wolfhound nudged Harry in the backside again and lapped at his limp-hanging hand.

"A fine hound she is," McDermott said. "One of my best hunters. A nose like a….if…..if by chance you might need a good watchdog, you know, I've got about fifty of her where she came from. Her older sister had pups about a month ago, and I haven't found homes for them all yet. Plenty more where that came from. All shades of the wolfhound rainbow—we've got brindles, grays, blacks, reds, wheatens," he offered, looking impossibly timid for such a large beast. It would not have been humanly possible to ignore the sorrow on Harry's face. Severus went pale at the offer McDermott made, but it was too late to politely refuse. He had seen Harry's eyes light up hopefully.

"Are they hard to raise?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, Mr. Potter. The raising is the easy part. It's the letting go that can break your heart."

Harry nodded slowly. Sugar was lapping at his fingers and hiding her face in his palm. She could feel his pain too.

"With your kind permission, sir, I'll bring a few of the pups by after All Hallows' Eve, and you might be able to pry one or two away from me," McDermott said to Severus. Harry looked hopefully at Severus, and there was no question what Snape was going to say. There was no way Harry could keep one of these at school or at Grimwood, but fact of the matter was that Ravensrood did technically belong to the young man before him who was staring down at the carpet, shyly curling one set of toes behind the back of his other shin, unable to meet Severus's eyes for fear of being told no.

"Splendid, yes, of course," Severus forced himself to put out the words, and when Harry's eyes met his, face beaming a big smile, he did mean it. Whisper looked as if she might cry though.

"Have any smaller than her, do you?" the house elf inquired softly.

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