lift; she paused long enough to exchange cordial hellos with the people already in the lift. "I think I'll go back to Hogwarts with you."

"Me too, then," Ron said. "I've been dying to see the Potters' mysterious new Hogwarts flat. We can have a family dinner!"

"To see how things went with Avery?" Ginny guessed.

"Yes," Hermione said. There as a pause in the conversation as the lift came to a stop and people got on and off at the next floor. "And I'd like to talk to James."

Harry furrowed his brow. "To James? Why?"

"What'd he do now?" Ginny sighed.

"Nothing," Hermione said. "It's just...I was reviewing the notes I took about my ideas. 'Somebody intelligent, warmhearted, diplomatic, trustworthy'. James."

"Oh," Ginny said. She seemed surprised that James was not, in fact, in trouble. She smiled softly.

Harry was also a bit taken aback. "You want James to head up your new Department of...Whatever?"

"Department of Social Relations and Services. I think he'd be great at it. He's aiming for a Ministry job anyway, right?" asked Hermione.

"Sort of," Ginny said. "I think he really wants to be a stay-at-home dad, but technically—yes. He took the recommended N.E.W.T.s for Ministry work anyway."

"I've heard all about what he's done at Hogwarts with his group. I think he could use that positive energy here and do a lot of good."

Harry smiled. "Yeah," he realized. "I think he could, too."

Suddenly, Gantha's prediction about James's life didn't seem quite so far-fetched.

"So...I'd be dealing with marginalized people in our society?" James asked. "Advocating for their rights, promoting awareness, providing counseling services and assistance programs and legal help?"

"Correct. And kids. We really need a decent social work program," Hermione replied. She leaned over Hugo and piled some asparagus onto her plate. "I'm thinking home visits, an establishment of proper foster homes...obviously there are many specifics to work out and plan between now and the end of your seventh year, but I think you've got the temperament, and I think you'd enjoy it, too. What do you think?"

James was smiling, but he didn't answer right away. He looked down at Nora. His arm shifted; Harry guessed he'd taken her hand from beneath the table.

"I don't know," James admitted, his eyes still on Nora. His smile was clearly just for her now. "I sort of wanted to just be a dad."

"Told you," Ginny told Hermione.

"You can be both, you know," Hermione reminded him. "Just think on it, all right? Think about whether or not you're up for it—think on which students in your year would work well alongside you. If you'd like—if it's all right with your parents—you could come to the Ministry a few days this week and we could go over some ideas."

James nodded. "Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Aunt Hermione."

"Is putting another Potter in charge really a good idea?" Albus asked skeptically. "That's sort of exactly what these people hate."

"It's what they hate right now. 'Right now' isn't forever," Hermione responded.

"And, as I hear, he did a brilliant job today. Better than I did. Scorpius told me there were no arguments at all in your class," Harry reminded Albus.

"Okay...yeah, he did a good job at keeping Saul and Claire from ranting...but he's still a Potter."

"And proud of it," James shot at Albus. "You should be, too."

"I am," Albus said defensively. "Most of the time..."

To Harry's left, Hugo and Ron were eating off each other's plates, enthusiastically creating strange concoctions by mixing two unlike food dishes together, and generally having a much better time than everybody else at the table combined. Hugo had been floored by joy at Ron's sudden appearance; he could've gotten Imperiused next and he'd probably still be grinning about his dad's dinner visit. Harry sometimes found himself a bit jealous of that.

"What about you, Albus?" Hermione asked. "Have you thought about your post-Hogwarts plan?"

Albus's mouth twisted into an uneasy grimace. "No."

"I think he ought to try out for a professional team," Ginny suggested.

"No, Mum!" Albus hissed, his cheeks reddening. "I'm not good enough."

"You are certainly good enough, and you have to believe me because I'm the expert on that."

She had a point. Albus pursed his lips but didn't argue further.

"I know what you should do, Albus," Lily piped up. Albus looked down at her, a bit apprehensively.

"...What, Lily?" he asked.

She lifted her fork up and stared at the speared brussels sprout. She rotated the fork slowly, so it looked like a strange, armless figure with an abnormally large head spinning in circles.

"Scorpius," she said lightly. James cackled. Albus blushed deeper.

"You little—!"

Lily was laughing as Albus pelted her with bits of roasted potato. Scorpius—who was having a quiet dinner with Draco—was probably lucky to have missed that; Harry was sure he would've flushed even brighter than Albus had.

The next few days passed in an odd ease. Nothing happened out of the ordinary—except for the fact that that in itself was out of the ordinary. Draco continued daily counseling session with Avery (the only details he had been willing to divulge about them was that Avery was 'stubborn'). Albus and Scorpius began spending a lot more of their free time in their parents' living quarters, probably out of fear somebody would attack them with the Imperius Curse again; but both seemed to be making slow but steady recoveries from the emotional attack. Following the success of their advice column's first issue, Lily was focusing harder than ever on that, which was a relief to Harry (who would rather her focus on Hogwarts Helpthan Caden Rowle). And in the midst of N.E.W.T.s, Quidditch, and Animagus training, James had dedicated a few evenings to going to the Ministry with Hermione. He often came back laden with rolls of parchment whispering excitedly underneath his breath. And Iset—at least, as it appeared in Harry's classes—was doing significantly better after finally opening up and allowing people to help her; she often sat at Scorpius and Albus's table and he frequently had to gently remind the three to be quiet during lessons.

Everybody seemed oriented towards change, so the uneventful days felt almost anticlimactic. Of course, nobody wanted anything horrible to happen. Nobody wanted to force the Death Eater's next hand. But they were all aware that the move was coming—it was not a question of 'if', it was a question of 'when', and Harry would have much rather faced it while he was expecting it than have faced it caught off guard.

He didn't have to wait much longer.

Early Thursday morning, he woke with a start. For a moment, he was disoriented and confused; he sat up and looked down at his students' essays strewn across the desk. He could feel painful places of pressure where the frame of his glasses had dug into his face during his face-down nap atop his marking. He remembered the night before in hazy bits and pieces...("Are you coming to bed at any point or are you nocturnal now?" Ginny had asked. Harry – bent over the essays, scratching away with his quill, had sworn: "I will, soon. Is the light bothering you?" "No, your absence is bothering me." "I'll be there soon. Just let me finish marking Louis's essay." The sheets had rustled as she'd settled into bed; Gerlind had shot across the room at the inviting sound; and Harry was exhausted...).

He shook his head and cleared his throat. He felt Ginny's touch against his spine.

"What?" he asked. He sat all the way up and pulled his glasses off with a hiss of pain. He rubbed over the deep indention underneath his right eye. The candles on his desk had burned down; there was just a small, dark orange flame flickering weakly in a pool of melted wax. They cast long, obscuring shadows over everything around him. "What's wrong?"

He could hardly make her out in the near-darkness without his glasses, but he could tell something was very wrong by her posture. Tense, coiled, like she was prepared to take off somewhere at a moment's notice. Harry felt a splash of cold water to his insides.

"What?" he demanded.

"Harry," she said. "Grey is dead."

For a moment, he did nothing. He stopped rubbing over the painful lines his glasses had left. He simply looked at her, her face strangely moving in the dark, seizing light from the dying candles. Was she crying? A furrow of her brow, her lips in a tight line, her nose perhaps redder than usual, her bottom eyelashes clumped together in a way that suggested—

A tear slipped down her cheek. "It was the curse they used on Albus again. They attacked him at home—"

"No..."

"His family...whoever killed him didn't touch them, but they saw the entire thing, and they tried to help but by the time they got him to St. Mungo's, even with the new procedure on hand—"

Harry slipped shakily from the chair.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked.

"The Ministry. I have to see the remaining Aurors. I have to figure out what's going on—I need to—"

But he was still in his pajamas, and if something this big had happened outside of Hogwarts, what were they planning inside? His children. His heart forcibly changed his plans.

"Our kids," he said instead. His heart increased to a thundering beat. Step one, he reminded himself. Step two. Step three. Take it in steps. "We need our kids here. And then I need to go to the Ministry. And then..."

And then?

"McGonagall is bringing our kids and their cousins to the Room of Requirement right now. Just to be cautious. She and Hermione arrived here a few minutes ago."

Harry nodded. And kept nodding. He thought he was probably in shock and his exhaustion didn't do much to help that.

"I'll stay with them," she told him. "I know you need to go to the Ministry. I know you need to...get at the front of this. Don't worry about us. I've got things under control here."

He met her eyes and found nothing but brilliant understanding. It was a much sharper look than the steady burning of her blazing one. He would've liked to have kissed her, to have said thank you, but his body was carrying him on autopilot towards his next destination.

His morning was spent in his old Department, calming Auror after Auror, making plan after plan alongside Hermione and the next Auror up for the position.

"Maybe you should come back," Hermione had said, real terror weaving through her words. It was a testament to her uncertainty that she'd suggested that. And if it weren't for the fact that there was a very real threat at Hogwarts too, a threat that was targeting his own children, he would have agreed. But he had to be there with them at all times. Now more than ever.

They sent their special force of investigators out to the Grey residence. They went to St. Mungo's and spoke with Grey's family. They returned, found out there was very little evidence at the Grey household, and started back at square one.

"This is rubbish," Harry finally said. It was nearing lunch. He was physically exhausted, but it didn't come close to matching his emotional exhaustion. Three Aurors. They were at three now in the past two months. Who would be next? Harry had to clench his fist to keep from punching at the blackboard Hermione had hung. "We know who is doing this. We know it's Alecto Carrow and Gregory Goyle! Hermione, I don't want to do this 'the right way' anymore. We need to bring them in—now. We'll interrogate them until they do give us evidence."

"Harry, if we act too quickly—"

"We'll bring them in on something different then, if we have to! Goyle on child abuse charges! Carrow to investigate possible treason—her conspiring with Delphi surely counts as that! I can't wait for a break anymore, Hermione. We can't wait. More people are going to die. More Aurors. More children will be harmed. Who will it be next time? The children who won't join—Scorpius, Iset? The people closest to them? Albus, Rose?"

Hermione bit her lip uncertainly. She tightened her arms around her book and hugged it to her chest.

"What happens to those kids following the Death Eater's orders at Hogwarts if the ringleaders are arrested?" she asked. "Do you think they've got orders to do something rash...a worst-case scenario retaliation?"

Harry hadn't considered that. He bowed his head, frustration. He pulled at his hair. He felt like they were being surrounded by all sides, wands pointed at them, but they were too afraid to make any moves in their own defense. Too afraid to put up shields in fear of what might go ricocheting off them.

"They knew it would be like this," he finally said. "Maybe that's why they're doing all of this inside Hogwarts in the first place. Maybe it's less to do with recruiting and more to do with keeping us in line. They know we'll be afraid to make quick, aggressive decisions when our children are so vulnerable."

"Harry..." Hermione said. She met his eyes. He couldn't understand why she looked so hesitant, like she expected him to start yelling at her at any moment. "We need more information."

"Clearly!"

"We can't get it from Goyle. We can't get it from Carrow. We've tried to get it from Delphi—she's not talking, she says she will only speak with Albus, and that's—"

"Not happening," Harry completed, his voice nearing a growl. "I doubt she'd tell him anything anyway; she'd just mess with his head."

"We can't round up their accomplices, because they've clearly found an underground way to communicate, and we can't risk them closing ranks—or worse, pulling a final attack at Hogwarts while you're here and not with the children."

So many things they couldn't do. What was left to do? They could pull all their remaining Aurors, wait until the group was together, and storm Goyle's house. It would likely lead to many deaths. They would have to have even more Aurors stationed at Hogwarts to guard the students there from retaliation. And what about the dementors? Could Carrow summon them again? There were too many unknowns, too many risks. They wouldn't have a chance at fighting off thousands of dementors with their ranks thinned and weary from a battle. Children would die. No, they couldn't risk that.

But there was another side to this. The side at Hogwarts. There they had some semblance of environmental control. Nobody could apparate in or out. Only a limited, pre-approved number of fireplaces were hooked up to the Hogwarts Floo Network. They had a good idea of who to watch out for, and there weren't that many; they could put one teacher to each Death Eater sympathizer. Somebody acting at Hogwarts had to have some concrete information they could use for evidence; or at least information they could use to catch Goyle and Carrow in the act. Who could get to them? Definitely not him—they'd never talk to Harry Potter. Draco? They hadn't been willing to trust him so far. Neville?

"Harry," Hermione repeated. She still had those apologetic eyes. "I never thought I would ever say this...I still can't believe I am saying it...but maybe it's time to listen to your daughter."

Nausea filled his gut. For a second, all he could hear were the words he'd whispered to Ginny many nights ago now..."I think we're going to have to make terrible choices soon."

"No," he said at once.

"We can control it. Keep it safe. We'll get Extendable Ears, we'll have dozens of Aurors at the ready, we'll control every bit of the situation—"

"And there are two spells—one word, the other two words—that could end her life, words that could be uttered in a second—"

"They haven't killed anybody there yet, Harry. Either they don't have it in them or they aren't supposed to."

"And I'm not taking that bet with my little girl's life! How could you even ask that of me?! After the things we were forced into as children...the times we nearly died before we were even of age...and we're sending my thirteen-year-old child into the ring?"

Hermione's eyes were glassy behind a film of tears. "I don't know what else to do, Harry. I'm really scared. I'm out of ideas and I'm so afraid that any move I make will cost somebody else their life. Everybody says being Minister during a war is the hardest, but I think—I think this is worse. This...before the storm. This...quelling of it. It turns out it's harder to stop a war from happening than to win a war and the stakes are so high—please, if you've got a better idea, I want to hear it. Tell me."

Hundreds of different scenarios passed behind his eyes. In every one, he saw the potential for extreme destruction. In the scenario Hermione was suggesting, there was only one person at risk. But that person was his child, and maybe it made him evil. It probably did. But to him, if he was being horribly honest with himself, her life meant more than a million other ones.

"We could coach them extensively ahead of time. I say 'them' because we could send her friend, the Rowle boy. He was doing Unforgivables with her, right? They would believe they're a Dark Duo. He would be right there. We won't let anything happen to her. She'll be safe—you'll be right there Harry, the entire time. Right there with her."

"I don't trust Rowle," Harry snarled at once. "I don't trust him to kiss her and I certainly don't trust him with her life."

"Harry, you might not have a choice on that anymore."

"I've always got a choice."

He and Ginny spent the rest of that day in horrified silence, both their minds working hard to find a different solution to their tangled web of problems.

"We don't have to say yes. We don't even have to provide an alternative solution," Ginny said that night, pacing their living room floor, wringing her hands nervously. "It's not on us to save the day. It's not always on a Potter to sacrifice themselves up for that."

"No," he agreed. "But I don't think our children have any better hope of believing that than we did."

"We can't tell her about this," Ginny said, alarmed. "She would demand to do it at once."

"No, I know," Harry agreed quickly. "That isn't what I meant."

Ginny stopped pacing. She rubbed over her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"I think they're going to eventually go after our children no matter what we do," she admitted, her voice thick. "We're going to have to take them from Hogwarts. We're going to have to...run away. And that's so against my nature, Harry, that it's making me feel so...horrible. But our children. We can't lose them."

"No," he agreed at once, his heart rolling from the mere suggestion of one of their children dying. "No. I would do anything to keep that from happening."

His own words taunted him. Anything? If that were true...what are you doing right now? Arguing about what could very well be a solution? If putting Lily in slight danger for a few minutes could end all of this now—isn't that a worthwhile risk when it comes to keeping your children safe? As Ginny said, they're going to come after them anyway. It's do this or run away, and if you run away, this becomes a war in the blink of an eye, and all you did to stop things when you were seventeen—all of that goes away. It was for nothing. And James, Albus, and Lily will live in a world like you did. A world where people are tortured and murdered,