"That's a long time," Harry defended. "All these past traumas have really built up in my mind; it needs a good scrubbing."

He felt her hand creep up his back. "Well," she began, her voice low and sultry. His heart rate picked up. "In that case..." her hands grasped the back of his head. He waited with baited breath for her kiss...only to find himself plunging underneath the water a second later. He made a sound of complaint from underneath the water, sending bubbles flying up to the surface. When he resurfaced with a glare, she heaped shampoo atop his hair. His playful annoyance dwindled as she massaged the shampoo into his scalp.

"I thought you were going to snog me," he finally complained.

"You said you needed a good scrubbing, Harry, not a good snogging."

"I was clearly joking...I was clearly referencing sex, Ginny."

"No sex in communal areas, remember?"

"Arg," he lamented. "We shot ourselves in the foot with that one."

"It's a good thing we're the parents and we can both make and destroy whatever rules we want to whenever we deem fit."

"Good point," Harry grinned. "Besides, the bathroom off our bedroom isn't really communal."

"Certainly not. So we're not hypocrites."

"'Course we're not. We're brilliant role models."

"...I dunno if I'd go that far, Harry. At best we're lovable though often misguided."

"I'll take it."

Harry tentatively stepped into the living room once he was fully dressed. He peered cautiously around the cramped room. When he spotted James stretched out atop the blankets, still in his pumpkin pajamas, his DADA books in his lap, he relaxed.

"Our child hasn't corrupted his innocence in full view," Harry called to Ginny.

"Oh, that's a relief."

Harry crossed over towards the tiny attached kitchen.

"Morning, James," he greeted, with another glance towards the bed. James looked up from the book.

"Morning, Dad!" He lowered the book and then pointed at the other side of the bed. "Look at how beautiful my girlfriend is."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "James, I'm not comfortable commenting on my students' physical appearances."

James was still looking at Nora (who was sleeping peacefully, her head leaning against James's arm, three cats snoozing atop her) with the most violently lovesick expression Harry had ever seen. He shook his head in amazement.

"You're really going to marry her, aren't you?" he realized.

"In my mind, I already have," James shrugged. "But yeah, I want to make it official, and I wouldn't mind a wedding reception. Especially the cake."

Harry laughed fondly. "You're lucky, you know. Very rarely do people find the person they love so easily."

"I'm lucky for a lot of reasons. I never forget that and I'm always thankful for it."

"A diplomatic answer," Harry commented. But then again, James was an effortlessly diplomatic boy when he wanted to be. Harry considered it one of his gifts—it was certainly a gift he'd never had himself. Not for the first time, he was momentarily arrested by pride in his eldest. He wanted to tell him that...he wanted to say: James, I'm so proud of you all the time, despite whatever silly mistakes you make. I'm so proud that you're my son. But he was embarrassed to say them aloud in such an otherwise casual moment. So instead he said: "I think you'll do a great job teaching my classes today."

James beamed. "Thanks, Dad."

Harry paced in front of the blackboard in Hermione's office. On it, Hermione had just finished writing:

Alecto Carrow is released from Azkaban – Amycus Carrow dies in Azkaban – ? – Carrow meets with Goyle – Aurors stop shadowing Goyle – Goyle and Carrow recruit (but with what? Why? How?) – Goyle threatens daughter to turn Potter children against parents – Skeeter begins writing articles against the Ministry – Albus Potter is cursed – Auror who used to trail Selwyn is murdered – students are Imperiused – Muggle-borns are attacked in Diagon Alley...on the same day, dementors attack Hogwarts, murdering another Auror – Scorpius Malfoy and Iset Goyle are Imperiused on the same day

"I think you're looking into this too much, mate," Ron commented. He was sitting on Hermione's desk and working his way through the bowl of sweets atop it. "It all makes sense if you look at it this way: they're all absolutely off their trolleys."

"No," he insisted. "We're missing something."

"We have to be," Hermione agreed, frustrated. She sighed. "It just doesn't make sense."

"Yeah...because they are psychotic Death Eaters," Ron insisted.

"Psychotic or not, they've got a plan, and seeing how much they've managed to do already...it must make some sense." Harry walked over and joined Ron atop Hermione's desk. He nabbed a sweet.

"Oi!" Ron complained.

"These aren't yours."

"They are so! What's hers is mine; we said a vow about that and everything!"

Harry ignored Ron and popped the sweet into his mouth. Ron called him something decidedly not-nice underneath his breath. Harry snickered.

"Okay..." Hermione came to a stop in front of the blackboard. She bit at her nail as she observed her own writing. "What on here makes the least amount of sense?"

"Dementors."

"Going after my kids."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look after their simultaneously different answers.

"No, you're wrong, it's definitely the dementors."

"It's definitely targeting my kids..."

"I don't think it's either of those," Hermione continued. "What doesn't make sense to me is this." She pointed at "Carrow meets with Goyle". "Why those two? Why Goyle? Why Carrow?"

Harry shrugged. "Goyle is a great follower. I'm sure Carrow remembered that from her time at Hogwarts. Carrow was angry."

"So Goyle waits all these years because he's waiting for Carrow to get out of prison?" Hermione asked.

"The Carrows always struck me as followers," Ron admitted.

"I guess Goyle probably thought they were leaders because they controlled Hogwarts."

"Yeah, but they weren't really in charge. They were doing it all for He- Voldemort," Ron said. "I just don't know if Carrow would want to be the leader. And if Carrow was the leader...you'd think she'd just want revenge for her brother. This is much more than that, clearly..."

Hermione sighed. "So why Carrow and why Goyle? We're missing a connection...that's got to be it..."

"If it's not all about her brother, why did they wait so long?" Harry wondered. "I mean, if this all were in retaliation to Amycus's death, it'd make sense that it just started, because he only just died this summer. But, like Ron said—seems like a lot to just be about that. So why did they wait until now?"

"Because Alecto has been in prison. It couldn't have started before now," Hermione reminded him.

"So she gets out of prison...somehow finds Goyle...they decide to start a rebirth of Death Eaters..." Harry trailed off.

"Which brings me right back to: why Goyle?" Hermione said with a sigh.

"Maybe he visited her in prison?" Ron suggested. "Got lonely without another brainless, scummy idiot to talk to. Do we have the Azkaban visiting logs?"

Both Hermione and Harry snapped their heads in Ron's direction. Harry grinned while Hermione just looked at him dumbly for a moment.

"What?" he asked, shrugging.

Harry was still grinning. "Nothing, mate. You're just an irreplaceable part of this trio."

"You're brilliant, Ron," Hermione gushed. She crossed over, stepped between Ron's parted legs, held his face, and kissed him soundly on the lips. Harry's grin grew. "I'm going to get those records right now!"

Ron watched her go, a dazed smile in place.

"I dunno why she's so happy with me, but I'm not going to question it," Ron admitted.

"Always best not to," Harry agreed. His thoughts strayed to his morning with Ginny. His grin grew. She had certainly seemed happy with him...and he had definitely not questioned it...

"What are you smiling like that for?" Ron demanded, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What? Nothing," Harry said quickly. He checked his battered wristwatch. "Want to get lunch?"

"I always want to get lunch."

"Great. Let's grab something and go see if Gin managed to stop herself from committing murder."

"Doubt it."

She had managed to keep from killing her colleagues—but only just. When they stepped into the main office of the Prophet, Ginny and a handful of others were sitting in chairs grouped in the center of the room, seemingly taking notes as the Editor lectured. A blackboard was hovering beside him and a piece of enchanted chalk was writing' journalistic integrity' over and over again. Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from bursting into laughter, but he didn't manage to stifle the choking sound that repression caused. Nobody else seemed to hear it, but Ginny did. She looked up from her parchment and glanced his way. She grinned. He smiled back. Ron lifted their bag of takeaway. Her smile grew.

"Now I will dedicate the next ten minutes to questions—yes, Ginny?" the Editor asked. Ginny's hand had risen immediately.

"Just wondering—if you're concerned about journalist integrity, why do you publish Rita Skeeter? Why is she still technically employed even though she's awaiting trial?"

The Editor sighed. He gave her a very sour look. "Ginny, we discussed this privately already."

"I wasn't satisfied with your answer."

"Rita remains a longtime colleague despite our artistic differences."

"Artistic differences? Really?" Ginny demanded, her voice dry. "Wanting to write your article in the voice of a dog is an artistic difference. Slandering people in our community for decades is not an 'artistic difference'."

"Here we go..." a colleague sighed.

Ginny gestured towards the colleague. "Yes, exactly, Druen. Druen understands. Here we go, right now—I want answers."

"And I've given you one! Just because you don't like the style of Rita's writing—"

"Okay, look. I know you're a clever man. You've done loads of clever things since you've taken over. But how can you look me in the eye and say that after spending the past hour lecturing us on the importance of journalistic integrity? Rita wouldn't know journalistic integrity if it bent her over the—"

"Ginny, we're done discussing this."

"Oh, we are? Sorry, I forgot that you control both of our wants and desires."

"What are you even doing here?" the Editor finally demanded. "If you hate the Prophet so much, what are you doing here? Quit! Merlin knows you don't need the money."

"I'm clearly here for the fabulous company, Grant." The Editor glowered in response. A few colleagues looked affronted. "I'm here because somebody needs to keep this paper in check—"

"You're here to stifle free speech, you mean?" another colleague commented slyly.

Ginny side-eyed him. "Aren't you missing Gobstones hour, Jonathon? Your desk must be getting lonely without you there to sit at it doing nothing."

"I...do things!" Jonathon offended, though his face had turned bright red.

"I don't think Gobstones, muggle card tricks, and yourself count."

Ron cackled, amused. Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed wearily over his eyes.

"I...that was one time, Ginny, and I publically apologized!" Jonathon stage-whispered. "The fact remains that you and our Minister have a lot of problems with free speech."

"We've got problems with harassment. And I've got a problem with the low caliber of our reporting."

"We'll meet again to discuss this specific...issue. How's that, Ginny?" Grant offered.

"Sure, fine," Ginny said coolly. She pointed at Harry. "I'm taking my lunch break." She paused. "And if one of you even thinks about writing an article about that and using my words literally, I will lose my mind."

Ginny walked over, grabbed both Harry and Ron by the crooks of their elbows, and dragged them out of the office. Ron was confused.

"How else would they take those words?"

Ginny and Harry exchanged an amused look.

"Nothing, Ron," Ginny said. "How was your day, boys?"

"Better than yours from the looks of it. Journalistic integrity?"

"Ha! What a bloody joke," she said bitterly.

"You looked diligent enough, taking notes and all," Ron sniggered.

"Notes? Not quite."

She passed the roll of parchment to Ron. He unrolled it. His eyes scanned the words as he read aloud: "'The code of ethics for journalists demands we be honest, courageous, and fair, unless we're Grant and we've got a massive stiffy for Rita Skeeter and her talon-nails, in which case we can repeatedly screw over whoever we please in our quest to have Skeeter's talon-nailed hand around our—' Ginny!"

"What? It's true."

"It's filthy!"

"Filthy...and true."

"How would you like me to give this to Mum?" Ron challenged.

Ginny stiffened. "You wouldn't dare."

"I think you ought to have your mouth Scourgified, Ginevra!"

"Ronald, you give that back to me now or I swear—"

Ron made to shove the parchment into his trouser pocket. Ginny leaped around Harry and jumped onto Ron, taking him off guard enough to nearly bring him down to the floor.

"Give it here!" she demanded

"No!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

Harry slowly backed away. "I'm not getting involved in this."

He led the way back to Hermione's office with Ron and Ginny fighting behind him the entire way. When they entered, Harry was surprised to see Hermione standing tensely in front of the blackboard.

"Er...everything all right, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"You're back early, Hermione!" Ron said happily. "Good thing I bought you lunch, too."

"Hermione?" Ginny asked. She dropped down from Ron's back and released his neck from the previous chokehold. Ron let her 'notes' fall to the floor, now entirely focused on Hermione.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

After a long moment, Hermione finally turned around. She stared at them.

"I figured out what we're missing."

"Yeah? Brilliant!" Ron beamed. He waited. "Er...what is it?"

Hermione walked over to her desk and lifted a massive book. She carried it over to them, flipping through the pages.

"Start here," she told them. "Last year."

There had to have been hundreds upon hundreds of rows and columns. Harry's eyes burned from studying it for even a moment.

It was Ginny who spotted it first.

"Oh bollocks," she groaned.

"What?" Ron demanded. He leaned closer to the pages, so his nose was nearly touching it. "What do you see?"

Ginny reached down and pressed her finger to a row halfway down the page. Riddle, Delphini.

"Yeah, we put her there," Ron shrugged.

"Look at her visitors," Ginny said.

Harry slid his eyes down the row. Alecto Carrow...Alecto Carrow...Alecto Carrow...

"They were imprisoned at the same time," he realized. He looked up and locked eyes with Hermione. She looked faint. "Delphi must've told Alecto who she is...Ron is right—the Carrows are followers. And they must've decided to follow Delphi."

"She's just a kid..." Ron argued weakly.

"She's Voldemort's kid. They're so desperate for a resurgence that they'll take what they can get," Ginny said bitterly. "This is bad."

"You were sort of right, Ron," Hermione admitted. "We were thinking into it too hard. There is a simple answer. Everything they're doing is to prepare a following for Delphi."

"But Delphi is in prison," Ginny reminded them.

"Plenty of people have broken out of Azkaban before," Harry reminded her. His head was spinning. "That's how they got so many Death Eaters to join their cause. That's how they got all of those dementors."

"And Rita is locked up there with the lot of them," Ginny realized. "Harry...you don't think...?"

"I think Rita would join whatever side could offer her the best deal. It's possible," Harry agreed. "She's certainly done the most damage...she's turned the public against us the most, especially with her article she wrote in Azkaban. I'll bet she's being commissioned or bribed or something."

"Okay," Ron said. He laughed, but it was a nervous, shaky sound. "So...the Death Eaters found out that Voldemort has a daughter. They are...coming together again to join her. They've got dementors at their control. They have the public turning against us. Okay. Bad. This is...bad. What are we going to do?"

He looked hopefully from Harry's face, to Hermione's, to Ginny's. Nobody said anything for a while.

"Well, it hasn't spiraled completely out of control yet," Ginny finally pointed out. "If we leave it alone...it looks like war...smells like...a war. But we caught on early. We've got a chance to stop it before it starts."

"How?" Hermione wondered.

"How?! Blimey, I don't know, you're the Minister! I edit the sports pages of a rubbish newspaper-turned-tabloid!"

"Right, right..." Hermione muttered under her breath. She began pacing again. "We'll need a multi-faceted approach...they're taking a multi-faceted approach...we'll need to figure out precisely who is involved both in Hogwarts and outside of it, get enough information on them to charge them, and arrest them...while we're doing that, we have to continue trying to improve relations between the public and the Ministry...between the ex-Death Eaters and the public...a new department—that's what we need. I've been thinking on it for some time. A Department of Social Relations and Services. What happened with Iset Goyle...what's happened with all of these children of ex-Death Eaters...it could've been avoided..."

Ron glanced at Harry. "I think Hermione's finally lost it."

Hermione continued her rant, though Harry was certain it was mostly just her thinking aloud to herself. "We must continue updating the laws...especially those surrounding the privacy of ex-Death Eaters...free speech laws must be continually updated...we must get more diverse in our hiring—but there aren't that many relatives of ex-Death Eater in James and Louis's year—but I guess we can still set the path for the sixth years...but we also need to get the new department going soon...figure out what N.E.W.T.s to ask for...find somebody to head it...somebody intelligent, warmhearted, diplomatic, trustworthy...it's likely I could find a majority of the new department members within this year's graduating class...we have to follow up on Azkaban conditions, too, to reassure the public Rita Skeeter was being dramatic...we have to do something about Delphi—counseling or therapy or...something...we can't isolate her from everybody; it wouldn't be humane, but we can't have her inciting rebellions every few months, either..."

They were all good ideas, in Harry's opinion, even if they were half-baked and a bit panicky.

"Right, well, we can think on all of that while we eat," Ron decided. He obviously sensed the palpable unease in the room. He opened the bag carrying their lunch. "Every Weasley for themselves; eat while there's still food."

Hermione and Ron walked with Harry and Ginny to the Floo later that afternoon.

"You know," Hermione commented. They stepped onto the crowded