Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

Nutters and Swimsuits

He read a report as he waited for his appointment.

His office wasn't big, nor was it overly ostentatious. His desk was a good serviceable desk, the chairs available were comfortable, as was the couch along one wall which was nice as he had more than once used it for quick cat naps during times of urgency when he couldn't afford to be away, available at a moment's notice. The only decorations were two pictures on opposite walls: the three masted man-of-war HMS Victory under full sail to his left and HMS Hood firing a broadside to his right.

There was no window.

There were only three things that discounted the idea this was just an ordinary office of a mid-level office worker: the thick, rich pile of the rug, because he enjoyed walking on it in his stocking feet when he would take a short break to work the kinks out of his back when working to long at the desk; the richly paneled four drawer file cabinet under the Hood, the weathered oak disguising the armor plating thick enough to withstand any projectile up to and including a 20 millimeter round and charmed to be impervious as well. Two combination locks were embedded into the front of the second drawer, and he was the only person to know both combinations. Two other people each knew one of the combinations but neither of them knew who the other was. Another person knew both of them, but not the combinations. Nobody outside of his office knew it was bolted to the floor, nor that its contents never left the confines of the room.

The last item had been a joke really, given to him at a past Christmas party. Sitting on his desk was a simple standup name plate. Instead of his name however, it simply said THE BOSS.

Not the kind of office you would expect to find occupied by one of the most powerful men in the British intelligence community.

Most people were aware of MI5 and MI6. Hardly anybody outside his section knew about it therefore it had no name. Those that did merely called it 'that bunch'.

His door opened and his eyes flicked to the clock: right on time. "Good morning, gentlemen. Please, have a seat." He indicated the two chairs in front of his desk. "I'm sorry for such an early meeting but I have one myself with the Queen at 10 today about the subjects of our discussion. She's lived through three wars involving Dark Lords and is anxious not to have a fourth."

Both men sat in the offered seats as they waved off the early morning meeting. Both were used to such things in their own offices, what with scheduling conflicts, emergencies requiring their subjects to miss their appointments or subjects who just didn't feel like talking about things they didn't want to talk about. Their subjects' jobs being what they were, it wasn't unusual to have appointments at any time day or night.

He went on. "As you can imagine, having had to deal with the actions of a psychopathic madman twice in the past thirty years, she was not too pleased to find out that quite possibly one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and the daughter of one of the darkest magical families in the country, have requested the services of both magical and non-magical psychiatric help. Granted, the fact they are asking for that help assuages most of her worries, but she wants to be certain that she's not going to have a couple of nutters on her hand in the future. She has proclaimed there will not be a repeat of the last two times. Everything she has ever heard about Harry Potter leads her to believe that will not be the case, but, well, psychiatric problems." He left it to the two men to imagine what could happen if Mister Potter's problems took a turn for the worse.

Both men nodded their understanding. "Good. Now, I know you've not had many sessions with them, and I am well aware of your oaths of confidentiality, but she doesn't want to know their secrets or what they tell you, just an overall assessment of what their temperament might be and whether they might be a future danger to the country. Rest assured nothing spoken of in this room shall be repeated to anyone except the queen and only if I have to." He looked at the older man. "Dr. Jacobs, would you care to begin?"

Dr. Ethan Jacobs was an older man, his salt and pepper beard giving him a distinguished look. "Quite frankly, Sir, I'd be more afraid of what Emma Granger would do if she had the power."

His eyebrow quirked upward in surprise. "How so?"

"She has a quite reasonable reason to hate the magical world, what with the trauma of the brutal murder of her husband, the forced participation of her daughter in their latest war and her eventual death in that war, and the overall callous way non-magicals are treated in that world. She has stated in no uncertain terms, at one time her desire was to kill every single magical person in the most gruesomely painful ways while she watched and laughed. She doesn't care who knows it, either."

His brow rose up even higher. He was of course aware of the trauma she had suffered but hadn't realized just how deeply it had affected her. "You said 'at one time'. Has that changed?"

"Yes and no." the doctor replied. "I can't go deeply into it, but since her association with Narcissa Malfoy, she's modified her thinking, from 'they're all a bunch of bastards who deserve to die in the most painful way possible' to 'they're a bunch of idiots who need to be pistol whipped to be shown just how idiotic they are.'" He quickly amended that. "With exceptions of course."

"Such as young Nott."

The doctor nodded. "She felt it would be more fun, her words, to inflict a lot of pain, while knowing she could have legally killed him, and showing the rest of the idiots that mundanes can be just as dangerous as they could be."

"So, what you're basically saying is she's gone from the immediate nuclear option down to just World War Three."

Doctor Jacobs thought for a moment. "More like Desert Storm." He said, then went on to explain. "Since Harry Potter reentered the magical world, her circle of…acquaintances has expanded. I think she's finding that the magical world isn't so different from the mundane world. They're both subject to prejudices and most people just want to be left alone to live their lives, those who Mister Potter calls 'sheeple'. Unfortunately, like our world, a lot of the idiots get elected to office or are otherwise in a position to give everyone else a bad name or are just brought up that way and don't know any better. Again, there are exceptions."

He didn't press him on that. "So, everyone should tread carefully around Mrs. Granger."

Doctor Jacobs grinned. "That's one way of putting it."

He sighed. "Well, that's good to know. Now, what about Mister Potter?"

The man sighed heavily. "Quite frankly, Sir, it is totally beyond my comprehension why that young man didn't take over that Riddle person's place when he defeated the bastard. With the amount of abuse and trauma, not to mention the betrayals, scheming and conniving going on against him, he could very well have turned out as psychopathic as Riddle. With all the honors, accolades, praises and laurels that almost amounted to worship laid on him after he ended the man, he could very easily have stepped into the top spot in that society and made himself king."

"His life was that bad?"

Jacobs nodded. "Just from preliminary talks with him, at which he has been very open about, he spent ten years with his magic hating relatives who verbally, mentally and physically abused him, then spent the next seven years being alternately revered and reviled by those around him and the public in general. He lived through this while facing yearly life or death encounters with madmen, demons and monsters with little to no help from the adults whose duty it was to provide that help. Some of them were even his tormentors."

"Snape and Umbridge." It had taken a while, but an overall picture of Harry Potter's years at Hogwarts had filled a very large file in his cabinet.

"Oh, those two are the biggest culprits, but he only despised them." The man leaned forward. "He has a soul deep hatred for Dumbledore, though I don't know why yet."

That surprised him. "Have you asked him why? I was under the impression they had some type of mentor-apprentice thing between them."

"Not having had much to do with that side of the house, I wouldn't know about that. When I noticed how he spoke about the man, with a hatred you could feel, I casually asked him why he felt that way. His answer was, 'Because he was responsible for everything'."

"Everything." He replied, wanting to be sure he understood correctly. At the doctor's nod he asked, "What did he mean by that?"

"I don't know yet. He was so distraught I decided to steer clear of that subject for the time being."

Well, that was understandable. He wasn't about to tell the doctor how to do his job. He was, however, going to tell Abe Fitch he had a new pursuit in his job. As an intermediary between himself and the young Lord, Abe had gotten to know the young man at several dinners and even more business meetings. The man was a good agent and would know how to steer conversations in certain directions in a gentle sort of way without abusing Mister Potter's trust. After all, he did know Abe was an agent, one whose job was to gather information and he was very good at it. If he said back off, Fitch would do so. "So, if he's not psychopathic, what is his mental state?"

"At this time, he appears to be suffering 'survivor's guilt', quite understandable considering how many of his friends and loved ones died, and is traumatized, said trauma expressed by infrequent nightmares. He says both Mrs. Granger and Lady Malfoy have helped with those with what he calls 'love and comfort'. He also states that since another young woman has entered his life the frequency of his nightmares has decreased, though he hasn't mentioned her name yet."

He knew what her name was, agent Fitch had seen her at Mister Potter's residence several times and though he'd seen no signs of an intimate relationship, it wasn't hard to imagine one. He'd initiated a full background check on her and her family and wasn't too concerned about her involvement with Potter.

Nor was he concerned about her mother, who had quite naturally entered Potter's orbit when her daughter had begun spending time with the young man. That that orbit now included Reginald Westhaven, her direct competitor, and his wife Rosamunde, said something about the leadership and charisma of Harry Potter.

The recent arrival of Emmaline Briarly with her little clique into Potter's solar system had been an absolute surprise. How the woman came up with the information she did was something he'd give his left arm to have. A gentle attempt years before to recruit her had nearly blown up in his face, however. If she was availing Potter of it, then he had an invaluable source of information to help with his plans.

With Rosie Westhaven in the mix, Potter had an intelligence gathering group that made him jealous. The woman's mind was born to solve riddles and puzzles and she had her ears tapped into everything going on in the magical world. He had known her grandfather during the war and still corresponded, so when he'd heard she'd moved to England as a witch, he'd tried to recruit her as well. She'd politely turned him down, stating that she was happily married, intended to stay that way and in no way wanted to be a female Bond.

Which didn't preclude the occasional packet of coded information, always correct and detailed, that showed up from time to time in various ways, most of which ended up in his armored filing cabinet.

With the inclusion of Houses Longbottom and Bones, Lord Potter-Black was building quite the coalition across the upper strata of magical society to help further his plans. His endeavors among the lower strata of that society were slower to bear fruit, but he was still the Man-Who-Conquered and that went a long way.

If the core of his group didn't turn out to be a bunch of nutters.

"So, you don't expect him to try and take over any time soon?" he asked.

The doctor grinned. "Or at all." He replied. "It's too early in his treatment to be able to give a professional opinion on what he may do with any accuracy, but having read his file and gone back through the newspaper story archives, he has never wanted to be in the spotlight, nor be a leader, though he appears to be a good one. I don't foresee any pscho- or sociopathic problems with him in the future."

"And Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Ahhh, she is a rather hard case to diagnose." He consulted some of his notes. "The Black's, as a family, often exhibited signs of insanity, but as a kind of madness that you knew they were insane. Bellatrix Black was an extreme example, and Walburga Black was suspected of killing several members of her family, including her husband, while exhibiting signs of deranged behavior. Other examples can be found going back several hundred years."

"However, the Black Madness as it's called, was never a type of psychopathic megalomania of the kind shown by Tom Riddle. It was always a type centered on the subject, satisfying their pleasure, jealousy, rage, or whatever emotion was affecting them at the time."

"Mrs. Malfoy, however, does not show any signs that I can see of this type of mental illness. I am ninety percent certain that her affliction is an extreme case of post-traumatic-stress syndrome, or PTSD, triggered by her first meeting with Emma Granger. If you've seen a photograph of both the mother and the daughter, you would say they were the same person at different ages."

"She spent several months living with a madman who tortured and killed on a whim, at any time and for any reason, or no reason at all, with no way to stop him. She witnessed her husband being tortured several times and both she and her son were tortured and threatened with death to insure his obedience. The stress she was under must have been tremendous."

He collected himself for a moment before continuing. "The triggering event seems to have been when Hermione Granger was viciously attacked and tortured by her own sister. When she later met and saw Emma Granger, who looked so much like her daughter, she had a full-blown psychotic break. Since then, she has experienced more, even one in front of the agent who made contact with her."

"Really?"

They both turned to the other man in the room, Ryan Townsend, a mind healer. He looked half as old as Jacobs but was in reality about the same age. "You have a comment, Healer Townsend?" he asked.

"Yes, I do." The other man replied. "Or more exactly, a request. Would it be possible to get a memory from the agent of when this attack occurred? While she was the one who requested our help, she is rather reluctant to let me see things she considers too…personal? Humiliating? even incriminating? Being a Black, her occlumency skills are quite good and so ingrained she has a hard time letting me in, even to the things she wants me to know. Being able to see one of her attacks from outside, as it were, might give me some insight into what she's going through from an outsider's perspective as it were."

Since agent Fitch and his team were assigned to the Potter case more or less for the immediate future, that shouldn't be any problem at all. "I'll see that you get that within the next few days."

The man nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

He turned his attention back to the Doctor. "So, Doctor Jacobs. What you're telling me is you see no hint of a possible problem with the subjects, despite their obvious psychiatric needs?"

He nodded. "Quite so, Sir, though as I said earlier, we've only just begun treatment. While he is very powerful, Mister Potter does not appear to have any predisposition towards even wanting to rule magical England. While his plans may at some point cause unrest and strife among the population, what he's trying to do is change an entire society and those sorts of things are to be expected. Mrs. Malfoy appears to be a staunch follower of his, though not obsessively so, so I see no problem with her either." He suddenly grinned. "If Mrs. Granger were magical, I'd be worried but with the other two around her I feel safe in saying she won't try to start a war either."

Well, that was good to hear. Privately, he wondered if Potter had okayed the help simply to convey to Her Majesty's government that he wasn't a threat.

He looked back to the Healer. "Healer Townsend, would you concur with Doctor Jacobs?"

"With Mister Potter and Mrs. Malfoy, I will." The man stated. "His problems with survivor's guilt and the abuse he was subjected to during his early and teen years will have to be worked on, he does not consider changing his society as taking over or ruling it. He's trying to change it so it can survive into the future. He sees it as something he must do, not as something he wants to do. What he wants to do is settle down with a family and lead a nice peaceful life.

Mrs. Malfoy is trying to help him save her world. That vacation the two of them took last year really opened her eyes to just what the non-magical world is capable of. She knows that at this time, if the two worlds collide, hers won't survive in any recognizable way. Even without a military confrontation, the non-magical world is too far ahead, too numerous, to not simply crush the magical one in just social change. Their way of life as they know it will simply cease to exist, smothered by social pressure and the things that will be forced upon them simply to fit in." he shifted in his seat. "I agree with Dr. Jacobs totally about her PTSD but as I noted earlier, her occlumency is quite good and she has an aversion to letting me into that area of her mind where the root cause is located. It's going to take time, but I foresee a good outcome."

"And Mrs. Granger?" he inquired.

"As you would expect, the trauma runs deep but it can be taken care of." He grinned then. "Surprisingly, their small group, including the unknown lady you mentioned, seems to be helping quite a bit. All of them, actually. Their interactions with each other and with the people they're meeting is doing a lot to heal them. It's not enough for a cure, but it will certainly help."

Well, that came out quite well, he thought. Her Majesty would be…

"Oh, and she's a squib."

He stared at the man for a few seconds, taken completely off guard by his glib remark. "That's not possible." He stated.

The other man looked at him in a calm manner. "I assure you, Sir; it is quite possible."

"Albus Dumbledore himself is reported to have checked her and her husband to see if they were magical, and said they weren't."

"I would have said the same thing if I had used the same spell he probably did." Townsend replied.

He considered the man for a moment. "What made you come to such a conclusion? If she was so low powered that even Dumbledore couldn't tell she was magical, how could you?"

"It came about when I realized some of my probes were being very subtly being redirected." He explained.

He stared at the man. "Define 'subtle' for me if you would, please."

"On a scale of one-to-one hundred where one is 'can't feel anything' and one hundred is 'hit in the head with a hammer' it was a three or four."

"That is incredibly fine." He stated. "But if you could feel it, why couldn't Dumbledore?"

"Because in my line of work I use the lightest touch I can to do the least amount of trauma possible. I wasn't even certain she was using magic; her touch was so light." He shifted in his chair. "As for Dumbledore, imagine the definition of 'quiet' is a mouse piddling on a blotter in a large empty room. Using the spell normally used to check for magic in someone, he went into that room and didn't hear anything, therefore, she was non-magical. With my suspicions I went in with a spell that was the magical equivalent of a high-gain directional microphone with an amplifier pointed right at it; I heard that mouse piddling."

"If I understand magic correctly, that must be a very low reading." Dr. Jacobs stated.

Healer Townsend nodded. "It's the lowest I've ever heard of. If I'd been using a more forceful probe originally, I would never have felt it, and she wouldn't have been able to affect it at all." He smiled. "Sort of like a cobweb that moves in a breeze you can't feel. I don't think she even realized she was doing it."

Too bad her husband isn't with us. He thought. It would be interesting to see if he might have had magic as well. Their daughter was certainly powerful enough. "How did she take the news?" he asked curiously, considering how she felt about magicals.

"Quite well, considering." The healer replied. "She gave me a sort of blank look and went 'huh', then just ignored it."

"Well, that is an interesting observation, Doctor," he stated slowly, looking at the two of them, "but not really germane to what we are discussing. Now, if both of you are agreed that Mr. Potter and company obviously need your help, and it is not for the kind of disorders that are going to lead to a third magical war then I believe we are concluded here." Both men signaled their agreement. "Good. Then I'll let you go about your business. Good day."

He watched them leave his office before he began getting ready for his own appointment. He was pleased with the way things turned out and was sure the Queen would be as well. Truthfully, he believed that she wasn't as worried as he'd indicated to the two doctors, but she wasn't leaving anything to chance. She approved of Mr. Potter's plans, as they knew them, and directed his department to assist the young man as much as possible. He had wholeheartedly agreed to do just that because of the access it gave him to the upper levels of magical society, a nut that was singularly hard to crack if you weren't born into it.

It was the lower level of magical society that really interested him, however. Some of the information Potter was passing along from the Gray Man made him highly suspicious as to exactly who the Gray Man was and how he was getting it.

Not suspicious enough to try and find out though.

He closed his briefcase and departed his office, locking the door behind him.

((((((OOOOO))))))

"AAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

The girl's high-pitched scream ripped through the air as she shot skyward, arms and legs flailing as she attempted to maintain an upright position. As she tipped over the apex of her flight and began falling, she suddenly tucked her knees into her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and screamed "CANNONBA…"

SPLASH!

All around the pool children screamed and yelled happily at the towering column of water that erupted from her impact point and the spray of water that splashed outwards. She was grinning widely as she popped back to the surface and paddled to shallower water.

The pool and patio around it were crowded with children. The day before all the ones eligible for schooling at Hogwarts higher than first year had taken placement tests at the Ministry in the core subjects to see what year they were qualified for. All of them had tested into their year, and in some cases a year ahead, at least into their OWLS year. Of the seven eligible for sixth year or higher, only one was able to test into sixth year.

Griselda Marchbanks had been quite impressed with the progress the children had made in just six months of intensive tuition and studying. Their presence being evidence of Lord Potter-Blacks allegations about Purebloods keeping other Purebloods as virtual slaves had led her to announce her intention to investigate how long such a thing had been going on.

As a result of all that hard work and intensive study they'd done, Harry had declared a pool party for everyone as a celebration. At the pool for the younger kids, there were hamburgers and hotdogs, salads, and desserts, with Narcissa's favorite French fries, crisps, and fish and chips with a variety of canned sodas. Watched over by a group of older teens, with swimsuits transfigured by Narcissa and Anastasia, it was a loud, rowdy, joyful sounding, and wet affair. Lots of pool toys were available for use.

For the adults and older teenagers located down at the lake, it was a calmer, adult affair. Canoes and paddleboats, air mattresses and tubes were available for lazy floating out on the water. The food was steaks, barbecue ribs, pork chops, and even hamburgers or hot dogs if anyone wanted them, with all the side dishes as up at the pool, and all cooked to order by the elves, who were having as much fun as the humans. Older teens, parents and grandparents floated gently or sat under the shade of the gazebo, taking a break from the day-to-day business of farming to enjoy Lord Potter-Black's generosity.

Another child, a boy this time, shot into the air with a delighted yell as Narcissa flicked her wand upwards, making a minute adjustment to ensure he landed in the middle of the deep end. He didn't attempt to stay upright, and his landing was tilted, causing a large spray of water towards one side of the pool where a group of girls were clinging to the side, eliciting peals of laughter as they were inundated.

"You are enjoying yourself far too much 'Cissa." Commented Anastasia as she sat at a table under an umbrella, eating a hot dog.

"Says you." The recipient of her comment said with a smile as she flipped the next in line into the air. "One thing I have learned is there is no more beautiful sound than that of a child's laughter."

Ana looked out over the pool and its occupants. "Alright, I'll give you that one." She replied, taking another bite of her sandwich.

A third voice spoke up. "I'm really surprised you've never had a hot dog before, Ana."

The blonde shook her head. "Never. The closest I've ever come was sausage, but never on a bun. They're delicious." She raised the dog, coated with ketchup, mustard, relish, and onions, to her mouth.

"You realize, there's no dignified way to eat one, don't you?" Emma asked with a sly grin.

Ana's hands froze, then lifted away as she scrutinized the shape of the bun's filling. "Oh, thank you so very much for that mental picture, Granger." She answered, then bit the end off as the other two women laughed.

The three of them sat poolside, Narcissa and Emma in chaise lounges in the sun while Ana sat in the shade of an umbrella. Narcissa and Emma wore bikinis, black and white respectively, while Ana wore a sky blue one piece and matching wrap. They might have gotten her into the suit, but she was still a pureblood woman raised in traditions over a hundred years old and the idea of putting her legs on display had gone against the grain of her upbringing.

Narcissa wondered if she could get away with flinging her into the pool.

Probably not. Darn it.

"Cis! Cis! Cis! Fly me, Cis!"

A little towheaded toddler came running up, wearing orange water wings on his upper arms, and a blue edged white pull-up nappy. Several other toddlers and some babies were also wearing the distinctive garb and parents who'd spent their entire life with nothing but cloth nappies, if they even had those, were amazed when told these were called 'little swimmers' and would contain any accidents so as not to soil the water. The blow-up plastic cylinders that slid up the arms and prevented the little ones from sinking were also happily accepted; few of the extended Anders clan knew how to swim.

Narcissa smiled at the little one. The elves had been given instructions to keep an eye on him, he'd gotten so proficient at getting out of the house and into the pool area. She'd taken to trying to get him to use his accidental magic in a focused, wandless way in a slow and gentle manner, mindful of his developing core. She was certain he was going to be a real terror by the time he was ready for Hogwarts.

"I wondered when you were going to show up, you little sprog." She told him with a smile.

"Fly me, Cis!" he said with a giggle. He crouched down, then jumped up, waving his arm in an arc over his head. "Fly Spog in wata, Cis!"

With the three women laughing at his antics, Narcissa pointed her wand at the boy. Instead of launching him into the air, she levitated him upward and out over the pool. He giggled and laughed the entire time, twisting, turning, and rolling fearlessly as he rose. She aimed him at one of his older cousins as she lowered him down towards the water, then, about three feet high, canceled the spell. He screamed gleefully for the short second it took him to hit the water, then popped back to the surface, supported by the water wings, laughing merrily as the girl moved to collect him.

"You spoil that boy rotten, Cissie." Emma stated, grinning widely as she watched him latch onto his cousin.

"Hey! I never got to have any kind of fun like this when I was a child." She retorted. "Besides, I'm helping him avoid becoming a future dark lord."

Ana joined Emma in laughing. "Is that your excuse, Cis?"

She smirked at the other woman. "Who ever heard of a dark lord who engaged in good, harmless fun?"

Ana laughed again. "Alright, you have a point." She reached for a can of soda on the table beside her.

As she drank, Narcissa saw someone walking towards the steps in the pool. She watched as Daphne exited the water and walked over to where Harry and Tracey were lying on lounges of their own on the other side of the pool. The girl was gorgeous, trim, with an athletic body, long legs, and hair flowing down her back. While not quite as exposed as herself and Emma, her suit showed much more than her mother's. It was silver, with blue trim, the back plunging to the small of her back, the front dipping down between her breasts. Emma had told her it was a maillot style, as exemplified by the high cut sides, emphasizing, and making her legs look even longer than normal. It was sexy as hell and even at this distance she could see Harry's eyes following her every move.

She'd seen Ana clamp her lips tightly together to keep from commenting on it when she'd first seen it and had to turn away to hide her effort not to snigger at the mother's obvious thoughts about what her daughter was wearing.

She sighed. With competition like that, she'd never get back in Harry's bed.

"What's wrong, Cis?" Emma asked, having heard her sigh.

"I just realized that no matter how much I exercise or diet, I'm never going to look like that again." She replied.

Emma looked to where she was looking at Daphne where she was toweling off by Harry and chuckled. "Maybe so, Cis, but just remember, when she gets to be our age, neither will she."

Ana chuckled, nodding. Narcissa looked at her best friend with a smile. "I knew there was a reason I never turned you into a toad."

The three of them laughed as they watched the kids playing in the water. One of the boys splashed them with a laugh until she hit him with an overpowered aquamenti, to the cheers of many of the others. They snacked on crisps and sodas while they talked.

"So," Ana stated, "Where is Harry taking us tomorrow?"

"I haven't a clue." She replied as she used her wand to levitate a boy, who'd jumped in over his head and was thrashing around, to shallower water. "He says it's a big surprise and somebody will be very happy."

"We'll drive there, and Harry says when we're done wherever he's taking us, he'll apparate home and we'll be able to have a girl's day out and go shopping." Emma told her.

The blonde's brow knit in confusion. "Drive? You mean in one of those car things?"

Narcissa laughed. "Don't worry, Ana. I ride in a car all the time when I go to London. It's perfectly safe and very comfortable." she explained. "And you'll be able to see the country. Believe me, we miss seeing so much by flooing and apparating. You'll love it."

"And wait till you see a shopping mall." she went on. "Imagine Diagon four times the size, on two levels and all under one roof. They have entire stores devoted to nothing but shoes and clothes! It'll be great!"

Ana gave her a look that said she was wondering whether or not the other woman was pranking her, before she replied. "Well, both Daphne and Tracey have told me about the muggle world and what's in it, as well as you, Emma." The woman mused. "But I don't have any muggle clothes to wear. Daphne says they don't wear robes."

"Don't worry about it." Emma spoke up. "we're almost of a size, I'm sure we could find something you'll like. As a matter of fact, why don't you and the girls spend the night here? I'm certain Harry wouldn't mind, and I'd love to have you here for the evening and we could all be ready to leave in the morning."

"Are you sure Harry wouldn't mind?"

Narcissa laughed. "Ana, Harry put up every single one of these people up last fall and loved every minute of it. I'm sure he won't mind at all if you, (koff) and Daphne (koff) spent the night." The three of them looked across the water at where the two young people in question were snuggled together in the same lounge and laughed.

"Well then, since he'll never even notice I'm here while my daughter is in attendance, I will accept your gracious invitation."

Narcissa and Emma both chuckled at the truth of her statement. The attraction of the two young people was hard not to notice. She had a very large calming effect on him, and she had only grown in confidence around him about her disfigurement, to the point that she was now comfortable being seen in public.

"Good." Narcissa stated. "We can go over a guest list for a dinner party Harry wants to give next month."

The blonde laughed. "Now I see what the invitation is really for: you want me to do your work for you."

"Well, you can at least make sure your name is on it, that way."

"Ha! That threat isn't going to work. All I'd have to do is tell my daughter she couldn't see Harry anymore and it would be there at the top of the list so fast the parchment would catch on fire from the friction of the quill moving so fast."

Emma chuckled. "She's got you there, Cissy. That girl has him so tightly wrapped around her finger I'm surprised it hasn't cut off the circulation in it."

Their conversation was interrupted by a multi-colored beach ball dropping down from above and bouncing off the table holding Emma's drink and almost knocking it over. "Careful!" she said as she batted it back towards a young girl who'd come running after it. "Sorry!" She called, catching it, and turning back to jump in the pool.

"How many are you planning on coming over?" Ana inquired as they watched the ball pop out of the girl's hands the moment she hit the water, a crowd of children moving to capture it.

"Forty or fifty, possibly more." Narcissa replied as she used a gentle bludgeoner to knock a boy into the water, right beside the girl he'd just knocked in, as Emma laughed.

"My, that is going to be a big one. Something special?"

"You can find that out when you see the list." Narcissa grinned at her.

Ana's eyes narrowed as she contemplated the other woman. "What are you up to, Malfoy?"

"Me? Up to something?" Narcissa gave her a hurt expression. "Oh, no! This is all Harry's idea. I just know I'm going to love it."

She smiled. Oh, yes! She was so going to love seeing so many faces when they realized what was going on!

A/N: Look what we have here! A new chapter! In only two months! Not a lot of action but a little look into the background of Harry's world to see who's lurking in the shadows (Does a queen lurk?). Until I started writing this, I hadn't realized just how much of an intelligence gathering agency Harry has. With Narcissa as 'M', the twins as 'Q', all we need is someone to fill the role of James and we have a Bond movie. No, I am not giving Emma a license to kill. She'd be way too eager to use it with the slightest little insult.

As for the pool party, it was just a little fun in the sun for everyone and especially the kids who worked so hard to be ready for Hogwarts.

I've already started the next chapter, but my muse also has me flitting around on some other stories, new as well as continuations but I'm going to try to concentrate on this one. So, till then, TA! ER