Harry was exceptionally drowsy that morning. It took him nearly a half hour to force himself out of bed, and even then, he spent the first hour sitting bundled on the couch, his mug of tea growing cold in his hand. Ginny was equally exhausted; her warm, sleepy body leaning into his wasn't doing much to motivate him to rise fully for the day. Considering the fact that they'd been at Azkaban until nearly three in the morning (along with Hermione, the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ron), Harry really could've used a lie in.

"We should get dressed," Ginny mumbled, her face still pressed into his pajama top. "Kids will start queuing up to leave for Hogsmeade in an hour. I'm sure Lily's been scheming all night."

"Oh, don't remind me," Harry groaned. His heart squeezed with anxiety. The fact that none of the Hogwarts kids would have wands didn't reassure him very much. He was excessively worried that one of the 'Mini Death Eaters' (as Lily had dubbed them) would realize Lily was manipulating them and alert their parents. They had switched the date for the Hogsmeade trip so quickly that the ex-Death Eaters wouldn't have much hope of organizing much in the way of an attack (either in Muggle London, Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade), but that wouldn't stop a few of them from apparating there if they really wanted to. "She's not going to be happy about it, but I'm going to be in Hogsmeade the entire day."

"As am I," Ginny agreed. Harry wasn't surprised.

"More spying on James?"

"Absolutely," Ginny affirmed. "And Draco is going, too, so he can watch over Albus and Scorpius while we watch over James and Lily. All accounted for."

Harry felt the squeezing pressure on his heart ease up slightly. "Good."

"Did you get a chance to ask Louis and Roxanne about...?"

"I did, sorry, meant to tell you last night," Harry grimaced.

"Well, we were busy last night, weren't we?" Ginny reminded him. He felt her hand brush through his tangled hair. "You especially. And when you want to talk about it...I'm here."

Harry heaved a sigh. "I wish there was something to talk about. I didn't find out anything new, really, and that's the most frustrating part. Four hours I spent in the room with Delphi, and all I got out of her was a story about ducks from her childhood, inquiries about Scorpius Malfoy, and more requests to speak with Albus."

The drafty air sent a chill down Harry's spine as Ginny sat up, pulling her warm body (and their blanket) from Harry. He opened his eyes and examined her tense expression.

"No," she said, as he'd known she would. "Absolutely not. Over my dead body. I won't have her playing mind games with Albus again—I don't want him to even have to see her again."

"I know, I know," Harry reassured her. "I told her as much. It's okay."

"It's one thing, what Lily's doing...she's taken to it like a fish takes to water—it's a bit unsettling, really—but Albus? No. He doesn't want to see her again, he's already been through so much this year, it wouldn't be right and—"

"Gin, I know," Harry repeated gently. He reached up and took her face into his hands. She avoided his eyes. "I told Delphi it wasn't happening. Period."

She relaxed. "And we're not telling Al that she wants to speak with him, right?"

"Definitely not. Unfortunately, all of our kids have a tendency towards...self-sacrifice." Harry paused. Lily wasn't really sacrificing herself so much as flourishing. "Or they at least want to be in the middle of things, anyway, despite how dangerous they are."

He lowered his hands and pulled Ginny back against his side. She settled the blanket back over him.

"So? Louis and Roxanne?" Ginny pressed.

"Oh, right," Harry said. He yawned and let the back of his head fall against the sofa cushions. "Roxanne lied and said that nothing was going on with James. Louis lied a bit better and said that 'to his knowledge' there was nothing going on that we needed to 'presently concern ourselves with'."

"'Presently'," Ginny quoted. She mulled over that. "Not sure I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I still think somebody's threatened him. I even talked to Rowle yesterday, to see if he knew of anybody in their 'group' threatening James, but he swore he hadn't heard anybody talking about doing that or planning to do that."

Ginny hid her face back into Harry's top. Her words were muffled. "I really thought that after the Cruciatus thing that he'd come to us if somebody threatened him again. We had that talk with him after he hid the fact that he was tortured, Hermione had a talk with him...it seemed like he regretted lying to us. So why would he do it now? I'm worried."

"Me too," Harry admitted. "But I'm starting to wonder if it was somebody else's life that was threatened. Maybe they threatened Nora. I think he would absolutely lie through his teeth—even to us—if he thought there was a risk of Nora being hurt."

"It definitely has something to do with her," Ginny agreed. "But those two are so inseparable that anything that has to do with either of them has to do with both of them, so I don't even know where to begin. She's obviously really upset, though, and he clearly is, too. What happened the other day...when everybody was here and she ran off to the loo during tea...being so upset or frightened that you get physically sick is..." Ginny trailed off. Harry tightened his arms around her. "Bad. It's bad."

"Maybe she was just genuinely ill?" Harry suggested. She had certainly looked ill...and he was fairly certain that she had vomited. "A virus or something."

"No, she's been looking upset and worried. Though...I suppose that...unless...no, they aren't that stupid...they were both taught better..."

Harry never got the chance to examine her new train of thought. The main door clicked open, drawing their immediate attention. Harry expected Lily but was greeted by James. His robes were a bit ruffled like he'd dressed in the dark, and the circles beneath his eyes were concerning.

"Jamie," Ginny said, surprised. She straightened. "It's early. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," James said quickly. "Yes. I was just...hi."

"You were just 'hi'?" Harry repeated, baffled. He watched as James crossed over to them and sank down onto the sofa beside Ginny. He reached out and pulled his mum into a tight hug, one that was definitely brimming with worry. He was searching for comfort and yet he wouldn't let them truly comfort him (because he wouldn't tell them the truth). It was beyond frustrating.

Ginny rubbed James's back. Harry was sure she was frowning into his shoulder. Harry studied James's eyes—still wide and a bit haunted, even though his chin was pressed against Ginny's shoulder—and he realized at once what had happened.

"You had a nightmare," he said.

"N-no," James lied at once, his voice soft with embarrassed defensiveness. "I'm seventeen."

"You can still have nightmares when you're seventeen. I have nightmares all the time," Harry said, "and I'm..." he trailed off, his brow furrowing.

"Forty-two," supplied Ginny.

Harry nodded Ginny's way. "Right. I'm forty-two. And I still have nightmares."

James looked at him, his brown eyes churning with uneasiness. "Really?"

"Really. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," James said quickly. He straightened, pulling back from his hug with his mum. "No, I don't."

"James," Ginny began, and even after James gave an annoyed sigh, clearly aware of what was about to happen, she plowed forward. "I don't know what's happened—if somebody's threatened you, or threatened Nora, or what—but I do know that something has happened, I know that something isn't right with you, and you need to tell us what it is. We're your parents, James. It's our job to take care of you, to keep you safe. We can't protect you if you won't let us. And that's what parents do."

James looked even more upset after Ginny's speech. His shoulders visibly sagged, like a weight had just settled down upon them.

"I know that, Mum," he finally said, his voice a bit nasally from the presumed build-up of oncoming tears. "That's exactly why I can't tell you."

Ginny frowned. She looked around at Harry. He frowned back, confused.

"You can't tell us because we...care about you?" Harry asked.

"No, that's not what I—I just don't want to talk about it right now, Dad. I don't."

"James—"

"Sometimes you don't want to talk about things, either," James persisted. And he had a point. In fact, Harry had probably felt that way initially following nearly every horrible or stressful thing that'd ever happened to him. But had his silence ever really helped in the long run?

"But why don't you want to talk to us?" Ginny pressed, after a heavy silence. "Why wouldn't you want to talk to me, Jamie?"

"I do, but not right now, right now I just want to pretend that there's nothing to worry about. I feel...frightened, and I just wanted to come home and feel better, just for a little while. So can you two go back to making sarcastic comments and harassing me about N.E.W.Ts? We can gossip about Albus if you like, Lily told me she walked in on something interesting. We can gossip about Lily! She's a mess, right? She's always up to something worth talking about." James's stomach gave a loud rumble, one so audible that it couldn't be ignored. He grimaced. "My stomach doesn't understand that it's earlier than normal and that the Great Hall won't be serving breakfast yet."

Harry stood immediately. He still hadn't shaken this particular paternal instinct; whenever his kids were hungry, he had the compulsion to make them food at once, no matter how old they'd gotten, no matter what time it was. Cooking for his family had always been an act of love and duty. It was one of the most solid ways to say I love you, one of the most important ways to take care of his family. It was one thing to feed your children just enough to meet their basic requirements out of a begrudging obligation—the Dursleys had done that for Harry. It was something else entirely to take the time to make a good meal for your children—like Molly Weasley had always done. Harry had decided not long after James's birth that he wanted to be the sort of parent who cooked delicious, thoughtful meals; not the kind who pushed a quarter of a grapefruit in front of a hungry boy (or worse—let him go hungry).

"I can make something. What would you like? Omelets? Eggy bread? Bacon?" Harry offered. He crossed over to the tiny kitchen area while James mulled. He guessed the answer right before James gave it. "Eggy bread, right?"

"Right," James said. He'd stopped after that short affirmation, but something in his tone told Harry he wasn't really done speaking. Harry gathered ingredients as he waited for James to get out the words he was struggling with. Finally, James said: "Dad, can you teach me?"

Harry turned around to look at his son, surprised. "Teach you? To make breakfast?"

"Yeah," James admitted sheepishly. He rose from the sofa. "You know...how to cook basic stuff."

Harry blinked. "But you decided cooking wasn't 'for you' after that incident with the cleaver."

"Yeah, but I'm a bit older now, and I've changed my mind," James said. He stood beside Harry. "Please. I really want to learn."

Harry nodded. "Of course." He allowed himself to smile (even though this only added to his suspicions). He still loved any time his kids showed an interest in spending time with him. "We'll make a little of whatever we have the ingredients for and go over the basics. We've got some time."

James smiled his first true smile since he'd entered. "Okay. Thanks, Dad."

Lily and her crew of Mini Death Eaters were not happy about the wand confiscations. Harry hung near the back of the queue with Ginny and watched as Lily made a huge fuss for the sake of keeping face. Thankfully, it was Neville taking wands up, and Lily had already explained to him ahead of time what was really going on.

"He's handling that well," Ginny commented.

Harry looked away from Neville, who was calmly talking Lily and Zabini down.

"Yeah," he agreed. "He's become really confident. Sometimes I hardly recognize him."

Ginny didn't respond for a beat. When Harry glanced down at her, she was looking up at him with a mildly confused expression.

"What?" she asked.

Harry frowned. He pointed at Neville. "What do you mean 'what'? We were talking about Neville."

"Oh," she said. She pointed. Harry followed her diverting gaze. "I was talking about Scorpius."

Scorpius was standing patiently at Albus's side as Lumie Kolin giggled her way through a conversation with Albus. Beyond his stiff shoulders, there was no indication that it bothered him. Harry had to give him credit where credit was due; had that been him, he would've already pulled hissignificant other away by the elbow with a weak excuse veiling his jealousy.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "He is. Handling that well, I mean."

"Yes. Take notes," Ginny said, and with that, she began pushing her way to the front of the queue. "Lily Luna Potter! Is that you making all this fuss? How dare you speak to Neville that way, what are you doing with...well, why aren't you with Aster and Emi?"

While Ginny pretended to reprimand Lily for her pretend tantrum and pretended to be baffled by Lily's unorthodox choice in company, Harry casually squinted over the heads of the students in front of him. He was hoping that onlookers would think he was merely looking off into the distance as he thought, when in actuality, he was peering towards his eldest child from the sides of his vision. Nothing appeared too different right now; James was holding Nora's hand and the two were laughing with their friends. Harry hoped Ginny would be able to keep a close eye on him during their Hogsmeade visit.

Lily led her disgruntled crew into the Three Broomsticks. Harry waited for three more people to enter before he ducked inside after them.

He was hit with a sickening wave of hot air. Thanks to the dozens upon dozens of students crammed into the pub's interior, there was hardly any space to breathe, much less move around. Harry could only take a few steps away from the door before he was blocked by a wall of students. The change in temperature from the street had made his glasses actually fog up. He pulled them off, wiped the lenses impatiently, and then shoved them back in place. He scanned the nearest tables and pushed his way towards the first one he saw with people that he knew.

"Hi," he greeted, and without pausing, he sat down at the table. His nephew smiled up at him warmly.

"Uncle Harry! Hello!" he pushed a butterbeer across the table. "Want a butterbeer?"

Harry took the offered drink distractedly, his eyes darting from face to face as he searched for Lily. He leaned over slightly and peeked through the gaps in the wall of people standing in a queue nearby Hugo's table.

"She's over there," he heard Aster say.

He turned around and looked at his daughter's best friend. She was in the process of taking a drink of her butterbeer, but she pointed in the opposite direction that Harry had been looking. He swiveled in his seat and followed her hand. Relief flooded his chest at the sight of his youngest child. She was sitting in the middle of a huddle of Death Eater kids, calmly sipping her newly acquired butterbeer as the group conversed. She briefly locked eyes with him—long enough to give him a reassuring, fleeting smile—and then she focused back on her new 'friends'. Harry let out a heavy exhalation. He relaxed back against his seat, lifted his butterbeer, and turned his focus to Hugo and Aster as he took a sip.

"Are you two...?" he trailed off curiously, not wanting to embarrass them. They were sitting alone together, though.

Hugo and Aster fell into synchronized giggling.

"No!" Aster said. "We're just here to keep Lily in line."

"Oh," Harry nodded. "Yeah, me too. Cheers."

Aster leaned in and cheerfully knocked her bottle against Harry's. Hugo withdrew an obscenely large bag of crisps from his school bag.

"We brought snacks for the show," he informed Harry.

Chuckling fondly, Harry relaxed fully and took a handful of the offered snack.

It didn't turn out to be much of a show. Lily and her group spent two hours having what appeared to be a normal conversation. Harry, Hugo, and Aster went through the entire bag of crisps, Harry ordered the table two more rounds of butterbeer, and then he found himself getting impatient.

"What's she doing?" he finally demanded.

"Flirting with Caden," Aster said, matter-of-factly. She and Hugo had started a table game with the butterbeer caps and appeared entirely at ease with how long this was taking. Harry figured being Lily's closest friends definitely required a strong degree of patience.

Harry grimaced. "Yes, I gathered that much. Unfortunately."

"I like him," Hugo said, as if that settled the matter entirely. He flipped a bottle cap to Aster and cheered (Harry guessed that meant he won a point, though he was still generously fuzzy on the rules of the game). After he'd hung the cap from Aster's nose, he looked back at Harry. "He's always been nice to us."

Harry had to admit that Caden was slowly (very, very slowly) growing on him, but seeing him with his arm around Lily's shoulder and his lips pressed to her cheek made him rethink those budding feelings of acceptance rather quickly. He glowered darkly at the two third years.

"She's supposed to be...I dunno, getting information, but instead it just seems like she's...actually having fun spending time with them," Harry grumbled.

"I think she is having fun," Aster said. "Definitely. Lily doesn't usually do things if they aren't fun."

Aster had a good point, but it seemed like the current fun was coming from the Death Eater kids' actual company more than the mission at hand. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He met up with Ginny outside of Honeydukes, but it was clear that she was in the middle of her own sort of mission. She greeted him with a kiss upon arriving, but spent the next minute or so staring hard at the shoes of every passerby. Harry found himself automatically doing the same, hoping it'd provide some answers, but all he saw were quite a lot of muddy and scuffed shoes.

"Er...what are you doing?" he finally asked.

"James and Nora put the Cloak on," she answered. "But they're too tall for it now so I can usually see their feet...the only problem is, it's so damn crowded..."

"Ah," Harry said. He quietly indulged her for another minute, and then he realized how idiotic they probably looked, standing still nearly in the doorway of Honeydukes, staring intently at the students' feet. He caught a few looking down self-consciously in response to their gazes. He reached down and took Ginny's hand.

"C'mon, let's go sit and have a drink," he urged. "There's something I want to show you in the Three Broomsticks regarding our daughter. James will show up again. It's okay."

She didn't move even as he tugged on her hand.

"No, it's not okay; they could be in trouble," she persisted. "I need to stay here."

She gestured at the entrance of Honeydukes.

"Why here?" Harry asked, mimicking her insistent, stubborn