Sunday, July 20th, 2014. 4:00 PM.

  Grimmauld Place, Borough of Islington, London, UK

  The kitchen had expanded to comfortably contain two of the shifts covering Malfoy Manor, with the third being on duty. The shifts had been rotating regularly, so that no one had to do Midnight to 8 am continually. Demelza Robins' team were currently on duty. Proudfoot and Ewan Ward's teams were present. Most of them were trying to summon enough willpower to resist Cook's tempting treats and high-calorie blandishments. The smarter ones were accepting with thanks, and passing what they couldn't finish off to Hagrid and the pups.

  Hagrid had given the pups blanket permission to take treats from the Aurors, which was good. If any strangers had tried to feed them, the usual response would have been to take the whole hand and spit out the treat. Sometimes getting them to spit out the hand, as well, took a little persuasion. Direfang in particular liked the way the fingerbones popped between his fangs.

  The boarhounds and the Dire Wolf cross had been taking it in turn to accompany the Midnight to 8 am shifts. After the revelation that Sparky had been, a couple hundred pounds of toothy back-up was a comfort, indeed.

  Direfang had the shift last night. He wasn't at all tired, but seemed content to relax on the floor, with both Lily and Hugo Grainger-Weasley taking a nap in the ruff covering his wide shoulders. The other children were off, putting the final touches on the utility room that had been converted for their use. The Protean Printer had already been moved in, as had Lily's design boards, and an ornate desk for Kreacher had been found in the attic.

  ***

  Inspired by Scorpius, the section of wall that Walburga Black's portrait hung on had been rebuilt to rotate away from the hallway. That would leave it facing into the converted utility room, bypassing the issue of the Permanent Sticking Charm. Once she was facing into the room, she was at one end of Kreacher's desk. She had her lectern to work on, and bookshelves to either side, making a cosy nook. At the other end was a good-sized sideboard which had a secure stand for Phineus Nigellus Black's portrait. It did not share the spell that made Walburga's picture immovable, so he could be moved in and out at need. It made a good working space as well.

  Scorpius had convinced his father to allow similar construction in his room at Malfoy Manor, due to a recurring Boggart that infested a tiny built-in closet. Each time it showed back up, rattling and groaning, Scorpius would trip the magic on that section of wall. It would rotate into the next room, the door would automatically open, and the Boggart would be faced with a bright light illuminating a full length mirror. Then POP goes the Boggart!

  It never learned. Of course, Scorpius did not know if it was the same Boggart, somehow regenerating, or different ones each time. Perhaps his closet was just prime Boggart real estate. He should charge rent.

  Harry had thought the idea good when he first heard it, and it just kept getting better and better. The change it had made in Mother Black alone was remarkable. She looked better, even looked younger. Her wardrobe improved as well. Gone were the drab mourning togs that hung like a sack. She would never be a fashion peacock, but richly coloured, well-fitted outfits made a great difference.

  Kreacher, of course, adored her, and all the children treated her as just another grown-up, someone to respect, to obey, and to go to with their questions and little problems. There had been no mention of Walburga's 'little spells' for weeks.

  Professor Black was changing as well. The challenge of helping edit Kreacher's book had brought his long-buried scholastic talents to the fore, and the Pixies made the support staff he had always dreamed of. Phineas Nigellus almost had a 'little spell' himself, when it turned out the matching desk and sideboard had once belonged to him. They had gone missing after his death, with no clue as to their whereabouts. It seemed that his sister Elladora had unilaterally 'inherited' them, without reference to any trifling matters like, oh, say... wills?

  Another item that Elladora had sequestered was Phineas' personal telescope, a beautiful example of the art as practiced in Professor Black's time. He was so delighted to see it, he almost stopped muttering imprecations against the memory of his late, unlamented sister. And, while he had despised being a teacher of Astronomy, he could not resist the blandishments of these children. Hence, Astronomy lessons were conducted upon the roof on the rare clear nights. He was thinking of writing a book an the subject, as well. It seemed Kreacher had a good start on founding his very own Vanity Press.

  ***

  Harry called the meeting to order. What he actually said was, "Shut it!"

  Harry went on, "Ewan, latest update on the stake-out?"

  "Status very much quo," said the saturnine Auror. "We have been very careful about crossing the Niffler's field of view. The Unknowns sent in a very good stealthy infiltrator, who swapped out the Niffler for another, and refilled the food and water bowls."

  "They were good?" Harry asked. "How good?"

  The lanky man's grin almost answered the question for him. "Not good enough. Proper use of the SpectreSpecs allowed us to dog his trail in and out. Or her trail. Robes and cowls, y'know." He spread his hands.

  Harry frowned slightly. "And by 'proper use,' you mean...?"

  "Luna discovered that extremely sensitive people can detect the Colour of Magic emitting from a person, without the Flame being present. She can't describe it well. She says that there is such a strong sense of where someone is not, that by elimination, you know where they are." He shrugged. "If it's crazy and it works..., well. Riya Patel and Morag Campbell showed the most potential when we were first trying out the Specs. Luna worked with them until all three of them could produce consistent results." Ward gestured to a woman sitting across the table from him. "Riya there can even zoom in on the space, getting a lot more detail. Gives her a bad headache, though."

  "Oh, yes!" agreed Riya. "Hurts like a bas..."

  "...SETT HOUND!" Harry spoke loudly over her. On the floor, Direfang opened one eye and gave Harry a suspicious look.

  "Yes, indeed!" Harry went on. "Bassett Hounds are one of the breeds most susceptible to pain! Be glad you're not one, Direfang."

  Riya clapped her hands over her mouth, more embarrassed than anything. Hagrid's briefing on working with the pups had been very thorough. People around the room chuckled.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Ewan Ward grinned and continued. 'We managed to get a good look at the Nifflers as they were swapped out. Another new type, about two-thirds the size of a normal Niffler, but still able to Cast the Revelio. These are also that glossy black, but their claws and bills look like ivory. The weirdest thing is their eyes. They are almost twice as large as they should be for the animal's size. They take up most of the sides of their heads. The colour is odd, too. It's an opalescent pearl white, with no visible pupil, iris, or sclera. They glow slightly, and I get the impression they could project light."

  "Given what they saw from our new buddy, Sparky, I wouldn't be surprised," Harry said dryly. He regretted missing the meeting where the electrified Niffler had been present, but Krum's safety had come first.

  "What time did they do the infiltration?" Harry asked.

  "Just after shift change this morning," Ewan responded.

  "Got it. Proudfoot?"

  The big man arched an questioning eyebrow.

  "Take that Niffler into custody as soon after midnight as possible. Make the scene look like the animal broke out, maybe spill the water bowl and food to make it look plausible."

  Proudfoot nodded. It was another reason Harry appreciated working with the big veteran Auror. He never used a word when a gesture would do. Or a spell. Or, heck, a punch. And, as far as Harry knew, he had never used any Verbal spells.

  "By the way, what are we doing with our growing collection of Fauna?" Harry glanced about the room. Hagrid and the other two pups had left earlier. Neither Luna nor Rolf were present. "So far we have Sparky, the Giant Albinos, and who know how many of the jet blacks."

  Nienna waved for attention, a little too casually. She was definitely coming along, though. She was the only member of her mother's team present, here to take notes.

  "They needed someplace secure, both physically and magically. Nifflers are hard to contain at the best of times. The stories Rolf's grandfather tells..." She blushed slightly, resuming her professional demeanor. "Hagrid remembered the castle's old stables. They haven't been used since the Hogwart's Express began running, but they're cut right into the rock of the mountain Hogwarts stands upon. The road that leads to them comes nowhere near the working parts of the school." The teen grimaced slightly. "It's more of an overgrown trail, actually."

  Harry met Draco's eyes, and the pale man nodded. No doubt it was the same road the Malfoys had taken in their flight from the school.

  "What shape are they in?" asked Harry. "And how secure can they be made?"

  "Very good on both counts," Nienna replied. "The facility was cut from the native rock, and any added construction was made using that same cut rock. Hagrid believes the rock naturally suppresses magic, and the containment seals and runes are as good as new, being carved into granite."

  "Containment?" Harry said blankly.

  Nienna suppressed her smile as best she could. "Head Auror, horses weren't the only things Hogwarts students rode to school. In fact, they were badly outnumbered. And a lot of those things could only be controlled by their owner. If that." She straightened up and continued. "Luna and Rolf are there, and by now, Hagrid, with Rolf's grandfather Newt, and, for some reason, Luna's father. Barring a Niffler variant that can dig through solid, enchanted rock..." She crossed her fingers and knocked on wood. "Avert the omen."

  "Drinc h?l to that!" Harry said fervently. "Apprentice Auror Robins, a fine report. Concise, and to the point." Nienna nodded her thanks silently. Oh, yeah, Harry thought. She is going to make a fine Auror.

  There was sound in the upper hall, then Ron and 'George' came down the steps. Harry Silently passed them through the Imperturbable Charm.

  'George' was doing his best to imitate the Weasley Evil Grin, but it was definitely a Work in Progress. The meeting was breaking up around them, with those in the know ignoring them completely. Those not in the know weren't familiar enough with George to notice anything.

  Bulgaria's next game wasn't for twenty days. Lev and Viktor had sent the team home with instructions to rest and recreate all they liked for the next week. As long as they did not make themselves match-unfit, Lev had promised to let them live. Viktor had dropped back into deep cover. Dudley had set him up in another efficiency apartment one floor up from Randall, where he was going to spend most of his time in his Sergei Dimitrov persona. He was posing as a foreign broomwright, learning from the master.

  Dudley had also increased security on the building for the foreseeable future, both Mundane and Magical.

  Ron and 'George' came up to Harry.

  "You missed the meeting," Harry said sternly, as if that hadn't been the plan all along.

  "Yeah, sorry about that," Ron replied, not even pretending to be contrite. "George had to swing by Dudley's for business, and I took the sprouts copies of the Prophet and told them as much of the real skinny as they were cleared for. I also took them copies of the After Game Team Shot. Got it autographed by both Managers, the Referee, thirteen of the Team Members, and the Boy Who Folds Towels in the Locker Room, holding the Game Quaffle. Which, by the way, also got autographed, with 'Thanks to Prábaba Petrova.' Or, 'Dimi's Nan,' as the Bogans preferred."

  "Thirteen of the Team Members?" Harry asked cynically. "Oh, my. Whoever did not show up for the photo op?"

  "Oh, HE was there! His teammates insisted. He just wasn't in autographing form, if you know what I mean." Ron shuddered slightly. "For which, I was profoundly grateful. I brought you a copy, too. Check it out."

  Harry took the roll handed him and shook it out. It was full movie poster size, in vivid color. The photo had been taken from a low angle. The teams dominated the foreground, with the goals in the middle distance, and the roaring end zone crowds doing Mexican Waves over and over

  At the top was blazoned:

  BULGARIA versus NEW ZEALAND

  FIRST ROUND MATCH

  JULY 20, 2014

  And stretched across the bottom was the final score.

  Bulgaria 410 - New Zealand 170

  It was, Harry had to admit, the most cheerful post-game photo he had ever seen. No slightly smug winners, no stoic losers. Everybody was either grinning like idiots or laughing like hyenas. Massive glass mugs were being waved in toasts, foam flying, or clinked together with the careful abandon of two cultures that thought wasting beer was a sin. The teams were intermixed, Stoyanka Grozda and Suzie Bates hugging like long-lost sisters.

  Harry did not spot Dennis Moon at first, but finally found him. He was hanging by the slack of his robes, from the massive fist of David Tua. He looked like a marionette whose strings had been gathered in one hand, prior to being thrown in a trunk. His eyes were closed, his head lolled to the side, and he was peacefully drooling. Tua's vindictive grin was a work of art.

  With just a bit of trepidation, Harry asked, "What is that on Moon's head?"

  Ron craned his neck around to look. "Oh, right. We had left by then, arranging..." He paused, looking at 'George.' "...someone's exfiltration from the public eye. You remember how the Bludger took off with Moon's toupee?"

  Harry nodded.

  "Well, by the time they ran it down, which they had to..."

  Harry nodded again. There were no more extra Bludgers than there had been extra Quaffles. He wondered idly where Pomare Tamatoa had scampered off to.

  "...well, the two of them had formed some kind of... bond? Love at first flight? Anyway, they had a Hel of a time getting them apart. And the toup did not seem thrilled to be reunited with Moon's... skull. David Tua had to tie the ends of the hair under the man's chin to get it to stay on."

  Harry shook his head sympathetically. "I'm surprised the Medi-Wizards let him out in that condition."

  Ron screwed up his face. "They... didn't. Let him, that is. Like I said, his teammates insisted."

  "Ah." Harry got it. "Specifically, Tua insisted."

  They both regarded the giant of a man, effortlessly holding about Fifteen Stone clear of the ground. Moon was gently swaying.

  "I ain't telling him 'No." " Ron said earnestly.

  "Point," said Harry. "A definite point."

  They stood for a moment, then Ron shook himself. "Almost forgot. Got something else for you." He pulled a folded envelope out of a hip pocket in his jeans.

  "James sent you a letter."