Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Welcome, one and all, to the story that comes after James Stormcaller and the Walnut Court. If you haven't read that story, GO DO THAT FIRST.

Sit back, relax, and enjoy.

EDIT: Minor corrections made, fixed spelling of Ollivander.

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The London Alleys

As with most major European cities, London holds its own Magical District. Unlike the Parisian Le Dédale, the London Alleys are both a relatively newer construction, and situated aboveground.

Prior to their founding, the name "Alley" in London could mean a great many places when referencing a Magical locale, whether it be a store off the beaten path, or a clothiers. For instance, the Alley in The Grays wasn't the same Alley in Greenwich, and neither offered the same services or wares. This haphazard layout served two purposes: firstly, it encouraged a diverse market of Magical wares, as with no centralized or large market no one Alley could corner a whole business, and secondly, it made the Mundane population feel safer; smaller businesses in small clusters were seen as more approachable, in the days before the Statute. This also meant the local Chemist might also house the neighborhood Potion Master.

However, as England became more and more involved in the wider world, so did that nation's simultaneous increase of trade and, consequently, tourism. Both Mundane and Magical were, understandably, vexed by the seemingly unordered nature of London's storefronts, and more so by the confusing way the Alleys were laid out; while the Mundane markets were mostly easy to find, figuring out which Alley one wanted to go to was like rolling dice, with no guarantee the Alley you ended up in was the Alley you needed.

Of course, where money goes, crime follows, and after nearly a century of conflict with France, on top of the ruinous Crusades, foreigner and local both were fed up with the confusing way in which the Alleys were set up. To wit, once the Hundred Years' War was concluded, the Crown released some money into the Magical community, to the end of creating a full Magical district that would cater to both residential and commercial needs.

Thus, the Four Alleys were born.

Founded in the late-15th Century by Daisy Dodderidge, Gawain Ollivander, Antares Black, and Solaire Dagworth, the Four Alleys contain the largest (by area) Magical Quarter in Europe. Each Alley is a combination of residential and commercial housing – sometimes combined – and each has its own cultural flavor. Please note that the word Alley is a misnomer; each of the modern-day Alleys are districts of the Four Alleys Quarter, as it is known in official records.

The Dodderidge Alley – now known as Diagon Alley – is the most well-known of the Four Alleys, as it holds on its narrow lanes the more "publicly acceptable" stores; that is, the businesses there are both the most legally sound, and the most expensive. This also extends to rental properties and the price of real estate. Ollivander's, the oldest wandmaker in Britain, has its flagship store in this Alley, which is also home to the England branch of Gringotts. It is also the recommended Alley for back-to-school shopping; some French students of Beauxbatons Academy even make the trip for quality Potions supplies, as The Diagon Apothecary is one of the best in Western Europe.

The Black Alley – now Knockturn Alley – was initially intended for lower-income workers and university student housing, with start-up businesses planned for its storefronts; the intention was to encourage economic diversification while simultaneously creating jobs that could network to other nations. Unfortunately, with two European Dark Lords rising after the Hundred Years' War, combined with the Statute of Secrecy removing all combined Mundane/Magical classes from Oxford, this plan fell by the wayside. Knockturn Alley is now seen as the "seedier" of the Four Alleys, both in terms of its business and the demeanor of its residents.

Ollivander Alley – now Orthogon Alley – is the least well-known of the Alleys, mainly because – due to a Magical accident in 1765 – it is impossible to enter without already knowing where it is, accidentally entering it, or receiving directions from someone who has been there. Of the Four Alleys, it is arguably the liveliest, as its neighborhoods contain more public parks than the other Alleys, as well as more theaters and music halls; there is even a Mundane-style movie theater – The Golden Ticket – which plays older films on a clockwork reel.

Dagworth Alley – now Latter Alley – has a reputation among the British Wizarding community that is similar to Knockturn Alley's, though for a different reason. Latter Alley hosts the largest community of Werewolves in the British Isles, and the largest population of same outside a certified Sanctuary. As anyone familiar with Magical Britain will know, most of the population is notoriously hateful of those affected by the Scourge of Herpo, to the point where open discrimination is not unheard of. Despite this, Latter Alley has the most diverse selection of businesses to choose from out of the Four Alleys, most of said business being foreign imports, specialists trades, and "exotic" foodstuffs – that is, all of the Alley's restaurants have non-human or demi-human menus on hand.

Each of the Four Alleys is 2km-square, and has its own external entrance to Mundane London – Orthogon and Latter Alleys have three such entrances, located at their external corners and outer midpoints – which initially facilitated ease of access while simultaneously keeping the Magical and Mundane worlds somewhat separate, and therefore slightly safer. A fascinating note is that the entrances do not conform to the shape of the Four Alleys Quarter; each entrance is located where, once, there was a major Alley of old London. Thus, one can enter Latter Alley from its corner entrance in Barking, and leave from its Orthogon-side entrance in Slough.

Some scholars have pointed out that the Four Alleys should not be able to fit inside London, as the whole Quarter has an area of 16 kilometers, or 4km-squared. This is true; such an expanse should not be possible to hide from the Mundane world without pointed questions being asked.

Which leads to the most interesting fact about the Alleys: while they were built within the London of this Mundus, they do not occupy the same space as our Earth. Rather, the Four Alleys Quarter exists in a parallel timeline where humanity – and most life on Earth – does not exist. This phenomenon was accomplished by repurposing a type of Magical practice known as Gate Creation, the art of accessing the Spiritual Realms. While fascinating, the ICW has unanimously banned further exploration of alternate timelines, as the risks involved outweigh potential gains; in the Four Alleys' case, however, there are only benefits.

-from A Comprehensive and Definitive Guide to Great Britain's Magical and Mundane Locations Throughout History, by Justinian Boor (©Fredericks and Sachs LTD, 1964)

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"Unplottable, shmonplottable! Someone needs to make a map of this damnable warren!"

-a common statement made by visitors to the Four Alleys

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To: Department Head Jotun
From: Field Agent Mica

The survey is complete. Our team lead and five others were lost, but we managed to get the best idea of what's in there since Enchanted became Forbidden. From the area just beyond Hogwarts' grounds to Ground Zero, the composition is as follows:

Target: old-growth magical forest bordering Hogwarts Castle. Forest is invariably tall, ancient trees with rocky terrain; clearings are rare, streams are common. Area is corrupted by [blacked out] the effects of which have spread slowly from a Ground Zero.

Outer Ring: Fauna includes unicorns, red caps, lesser Faerie, Centaur, various Mundane and Magical wildlife. Flora is nettle and creeper vines. Corruption is faint but noticeable, especially at night.

Middle Ring: Fauna includes wyverns, manticores, acromantula hive. The last's origin is believed to be Rubeus Hagrid. Flora becomes esoteric in nature, almost entirely hostile. Corruption is obvious, but managed by local groups.

Inner Ring: Very little fauna, almost exclusively Dark and hostile; squad theta discovered a series of crags on the Hogsmeade side that were free of taint, yet played host to an isolated group of humanoid chimera; chimera were hostile to approach, squad theta accounted for three of our casualties. Flora is sparse shrub, mosses, grasses, some flowering plants; Faerie circles and grottos are prominent, most are abandoned and in ruins; corruption is near-total.

Ground Zero: no fauna. Little flora, and what grows is Evil. Center point is a verified psychic hazard for magic-sensitives. The source of the corruption is [blacked out]

For the love of God, sir, the castle must be evacuated and that forest burned. The knock-on effects of its proximity will [blacked out]

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To: All
From: Department Head Jotun

The Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts' grounds is not for research or experimentation. The outer edges are less corrupted than the inner edges, but this is already known. The spread is contained by rune stones placed at the corruption's source. There is no chance for the students to become corrupted, as the castle's wards will keep the corruption at bay until the Druidic Order finds a way to cleanse the area without disturbing the wildlife.

Additionally, Field Agent Mica and all others who conducted the survey have been terminated, hospitalized, or relocated to foreign offices. As stated in their reports, the Ground Zero point is a psychic hazard, and all members of the survey team were found to have been affected. Those who experienced worse effects have been sent to the long-term Spell Damage ward of St. Mungo's Hospital; agent names will be given on request, should the requester have some relationship with the damaged. Get Well cards and gifts will be delivered via House Elf. That is all.

-two Department of Mysteries memos
regarding a survey of Hogwarts' infamous Forbidden Forest
1983 CE

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James Stormcaller
and the
Forbidden Forest

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Chapter 1:
Three Up, Two Across

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On the corner of Charing Cross Road and Newport Court, in downtown London, there was an inn that most people never looked at twice.

That's not to say it was a poor-looking inn, far from it; the stone face of the building was always clean, and the iron frame windows flickered with the light of an inviting fireplace, especially on cold winter nights. Three stories, roofed with blue terracotta tile, its chimneys big and small puffing day and night, by all accounts the Leaky Cauldron Inn was quite the splendid sight, the centuries-old building sitting stubborn and proud amidst the hustle and bustle of London.

Or, well, it would be quite the sight, if anyone in the Muggle world could see it.

For the Leaky Cauldron was a Wizarding Inn, and catered exclusively to a lesser-known subset of humanity: Magicals. And while most people could go their whole lives and never see a Wizard or Witch, many who know Witches and Wizards know they're not so different from Mundane, or Muggle as some say, human beings. Indeed, some scholars thought Mundane and Magical would get along quite well; on the other hand, other scholars think those scholars shouldn't visit the pub so often.

Of course, this matters little, as an old legislation/magical geas known as The Statute of Secrecy forever separates ordinary folk from the Magical side of things. Therefore, all Wizarding establishments, from houses and inns like the Leaky Cauldron, to whole sections of cities, and even entire cities, all of it was hidden behind devious spells and enchantments.

You could go your whole life without seeing a single shred of evidence that magic exists, but it is there, always, hidden.

Thus, the only people paying the Leaky Cauldron any visits, or renting any rooms, were those who travelled from other lands to visit Magical Britain. Merchants and students and teachers, and students to be; all and sundry wandered through the door of one of London's oldest surviving inns. And as it was August, in the year of 1991, that meant more than a few foreigners were paying the inn a visit, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Harry Potter, who was due to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Naturally, as the Leaky Cauldron was also the only way to enter Diagon Alley, Britain's premier Magical shopping center, from Muggle London, the common room of the inn was rather full for early afternoon.

The honey floors and dark oak walls of the inn's common room were, indeed, quite busy for the time of day. Split into two levels – back when a German bomb fell straight through the ceiling to shatter the barroom floor during the Blitz – any who entered the Cauldron would be met with a warm buzz of noise, the smell of food and tobacco, and the well-worn but cared-for wood supports and walls that'd survived far more than bombs. The Fire of London, several Dark Lords, and quite a few impromptu duels had taken place inside the walls, all of which were standing strong and resolute. A set of wooden stairs led to the second bar level, where there were more booths than tables, while another staircase, this one stone worn smooth by countless feet, led to the inn's rooms.

Decorations and memorabilia covered the walls; no paintings – the inn's founder, Daisy Dodderidge, disliked magical paintings – but shields commemorating battles, coins, and a wide selection of potpourri were displayed. Tables and support beams held carved messages from witches and wizards long gone and recently arrived.

Indeed, it was a welcoming inn and pub by any standard.

However, some of the locals were, understandably, wary of foreigners, and tended to keep their distance.

"Vultures, the lot of 'em," rumbled one Rubeus Hagrid into his mug at the bar of that most venerable inn, casting an unfriendly eye on some Turks over in a corner, smoking hookah and playing a card game. "Why they're even allow'd up 'ere, I'll never know."

Tomas Dodderidge IV – or just Tom, if you didn't want a boot in your arse – proprietor and barman of the Leaky Cauldron, rolled his eyes at Hagrid's mildly deserved suspicions, saying quietly to the half-giant, "Easy, Hagrid. Again, they ain't Turks. They're Saracens."

The look Hagrid gave him said quite clearly the big man didn't think that distinction made much of a difference to him, but Tom wasn't interested in changing one of his regular's minds. Fair, Hagrid had been in a funk for the past few years, if what Tom heard was truthful. Still, whether prejudices or Hagrid's mood, it wasn't a great concern of Tom's; there were drinks to pour, rooms to rent, meal orders to shout into the kitchen – in short, there was business to conduct.

Once in a while, a child would come through the door, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and leading their shocked-looking parents by the hand. Muggleborns just accepted to Hogwarts, Tom would graciously show them to the archway leading to the back, and go through the ritual of opening the barrier to Diagon Alley for them. Happily, for each person, it only needed doing once; the barrier would analyze and 'mark' each person who approached and passed through the arch. After that first time, the barrier would open as they arrived at the seeming-bricks.

Tom, admittedly, was looking forward to Harry Potter's arrival. Yes, it'd inevitably cause some hubbub, but at least then Hagrid would have something to do. Though…

"Why'd Dumbledore send you, Hagrid? Not being rude," Tom added when the half-giant gave him a look, "just askin'. Lad like him, big man like you; boy might bolt right back out the door."

Grumpiness disappearing instantly, Hagrid chuckled, "Ah, I en't worried, Tom. Got it on good authority, I do. Lad'll think I'm rather fascinating, I wager." And he preened a bit; fair, Hagrid's beard had been trimmed and his coat was in a bit better shape than usual, but 10 foot and change of half-giant wasn't anything to scoff at.

Still, Hagrid was an honest bloke by anyone's word, so, "If you say so. 'Nother butterbeer?"

"Aye, but just a top-off. Dun wanna make a bad impression, affer all," Hagrid grinned; his cheeks weren't rosy at all, so Tom just topped him off, as requested.

Neither of the men noticed the door open, nor did they notice a black-haired boy with glasses, wearing a pointed hat, brown-gold robes, and carrying a malachite-topped staff, scurry past the bar. Nor did they notice the snow-white fox sticking her head out of his travelling bag, blue eyes looking around at the bar with interest.

Thus did Harry James Potter, the most recent Shaman of Gaia and student of Faerie magic, make his entrance into the Wizarding World: quietly, with no one the wiser, and his Bonded kitsune familiar, Vera, at his side – or, in his messenger bag, but same difference.

No one in the room noticed them, in fact, something which made more than a few of the rubberneckers and gawkers rather upset, and Hagrid rather worried. He'd waited all day, and Harry Potter hadn't shown up! He'd gotten him a cake and everything!

In the end, Tom just sighed and managed his pub and inn. Maybe tomorrow…

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Tipping his hat up to as he looked over his shoulder, James smirked; that had been so easy! Sure, it'd just been his good ol' Unseen ability, but he'd never used it around so many people before. At least now, after two years of being taught by Faeries, he knew it was good as any Notice-Me-Not charm.

"This is Diagon Alley?" Vera asked, squinting at the brick wall in front of them. "We had to stow away on busses all the way from Rivendell and walk through that nice but smelly bar for this?"

"It's behind the wall, Vera. Try our Sensing," James replied, letting his Sense ability flow outward; it rippled against the barrier… and then exploded into a world of nonsensical color!

"Yow!" Vera yipped, ducking deeper into their bag, blue eyes glaring at the bricks. "That hurt!"

Shaking his head to clear the spots in his eyes, James grimaced, "Yeah… I think it's a False Gate to somewhere else. S'why we got whammied by the over-stimulation; our Sense can't extend into other dimensions, unless we're at a Circle." He mulled on that for a second, then smirked again, "That makes sense, actually. It means nobody will know it's here; I mean, the security's not as great as Rivendell – you can't even get in unless you're really good, or know it's there – but this is still a great barrier."

"Could make it hurt less when ya poke it," grumbled Vera, though she lightened up when James rubbed her ears in comfort.

"Now then…" James pulled the list Remus made for him back in April out of his pocket; on the slip of paper were step-by-step instructions on how to enter Diagon Alley, and what to do once inside. The first was a small map showing where the Leaky Cauldron was, in relation to the British Museum. Next was…

Leaning his staff forward, James tapped the bricks above a trash can, "Three up…"

With each tap, a tone, only heard in their Sense ability, rang through the barrier in front of them. Activating the Hydra, a kohl mask that allowed him to see certain types of magic, James saw the magic beneath the three bricks twist in odd ways, the symbols lining up like… like a complex lock on a door; each brick was a tumbler. With each tap, that tumbler was 'unlocked'.

And next to that third brick… was a short 'slider'.

"Two across…" James whispered while dragging his staff along the bricks, Vera watching with wide eyes as the 'slider' came to the rough center of the wall…

Which lit up with light, before each brick began to tumble, but not downward; the bricks tumbled left and right!

Before their eyes, the wall opened up into a wide archway, and as it revealed a cobblestone street, it also allowed James and Vera's Sense ability to wash outward, letting them understand the sight they were both smiling in open-mouthed wonder at.

The street before them winded lazily into the distance, where a large white marble building stood; leading up to that building were three-story wooden buildings, all of them not quite looming over the Alley below, Diagon Alley.

Each of those wooden buildings held storefronts and businesses, offices and house accesses, and all around them were people, hundreds of people, all talking and walking and yelling about sales. Owls, eagles, and other airborne familiars watched the throngs below from metal perches built into the sides of buildings, a tall witch in a tartan robe was leading more Mundane-looking people around like a tour guide might, and messages in the form of paper birds flitted through the magic-thick air.

Air that was also thick with the smell of both humanity, and of potions, ingredients, flowers and books and stone and many, many other things besides!

James stepped into this new and exciting world… and both he and Vera felt, just beyond the archway, the light of Gaia behind them, while a different and unfamiliar world was now beneath their feet.

For the first time in its history, a Shaman was walking upon Diagon Alley, and he couldn't help but grin widely.

"Blimey, I love magic," James whispered to himself while walking toward the throngs, Vera looking at everything while her tongue lolled out in a big foxy grin, both kitsune and Shaman still safely Unseen to everyone.

Checking the list, James nodded sharply; best to get the unpleasant bit out of the way first, "Right. First is getting you registered officially as my familiar so nobody freaks out about you."

That erased Vera's grin, her ears laying back on her head as she asked waspishly, "I don't really have to wear a collar, do I?"

James' lips twisted in disgust, too; he really, really didn't like it, but, "Sorry, but it's British law, Vera. We could get in a lot of trouble if we don't do this."

And so James turned his feet, reluctantly, toward a small, narrow door with the words Ministry of Magic: Department of the Regulation of Magical Creatures, Familiar Registration Office painted on the glass, the small and narrow place squeezed between the Owl Emporium and the Magical Menagerie. The whole while, Vera hissed in hatred of having to wear a collar, and James did his best not to show how peeved he was at the idea.

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Tiffany Truffle – Noble House, half-blood, Ravenclaw alumnus – was in the middle of doing her University correspondence when the door to the Familiar Registration Office opened; she swiftly hid the Muggle papers and straightened up to greet whoever entered.

Usually, the only reason anyone came to the FRO was if they'd been insanely lucky in the Emporium or Menagerie; out of the dozens of children attending Hogwarts each year, and the hundreds who visited the Alleys from abroad, maybe five people overall would find a magical familiar. Thus, Tiffany's job was a fairly easy, if boring, post. The last person who came through the door was a Muggleborn girl and her snowy owl, and that had been over a year ago.

Hence her University correspondence; her father might not like it, but Tiffany wanted to be a veterinarian. Anything was better than sitting bored at a dead-end job.

The current visitor to the Office was also a child, a young boy, but… there was much odd about him, in Tiffany's eyes.

And surely, he'd be odd to anyone's eyes! Wearing a wide-brimmed, pointed hat was, while not out of style, rather uncommon for normal people. His robe was brown with gold trim, and while well-fitted looked like it'd seen regular and rough use. Around the boy's chest, where the robe parted, Tiffany spotted red-blue scales, saying – to the part of her mind with an Outstanding NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures – that the lad was wearing a sea-serpent hide vest, something very uncommon in the British Isles. To top the whole oddity that was the boy off, he was carrying an oak staff with a chunk of velvet-wrapped green-black stone at the top, a Casanova leather messenger bag, and his feet were clad in Muggle running shoes!

Tiffany watched, nonplussed, as the lad took off his hat, set it on the rack next to the door, and huffed before approaching her counter.

Mentally shaking herself, she smiled and greeted him, "Welcome to the Familiar Registration Office. My name is Tiffany, how may I help you?"

The lad smiled, and it was then that she noticed the glasses, the raven black hair… and a lightning-bolt shaped scar, white and faded, just above his eyebrow.

"Morning!" Harry Potter chirped at Tiffany, before continuing in a strained voice, "I'm here to register my Bonded, as required by law."

Something about how he said that – Bonded – clicked in Tiffany's mind, bringing her out of her state of shock, "I'm sorry, Bonded? You mean a… Spirit, yes?"

Spirit Bindings, while not illegal, were generally frowned upon by most of Magical Britain's gentry. At best, Spirits were seen as mischievous pests or annoyances, only in the world to satisfy their own desire for merriment; at worst, some of the old families thought all Sprits were Demons, of the sort that the Dark Lords Herpo the Foul and Godelot the Reviled brought into the world.

Of course, being a Ravenclaw and deeply learned in the subject of Magical Creatures, Tiffany knew that Spirits weren't Demons. Still, one Bonding a British witch or wizard hadn't happened in… well, ages! The last was Albus Dumbledore and his phoenix!

"Yes," Harry Potter nodded, before looking down at his bag and whispering, "Come on out, Vera."

With a snarl that made Tiffany's teeth itch, a flowing stream of white light slipped out of the bag and pooled on her desk, reforming in an eyeblink into…

"Oh, you're a kitsune!" Tiffany gasped with her hands over her mouth, trying with all her might not to squeal in happiness; the pictures in the books didn't nearly do the real thing justice!

White as freshly-fallen snow with blue tips at their extremities, the kitsune – Vera, very likely a female name – was rather larger than Tiffany would've thought; sitting down, Vera's ear tips would reach her mid-thigh, or Mr. Potter's forearm. Beautiful swirls of blue twisted from those blue tips, from her paws and three tails and ears, and twirled from the sides of her eyes, highlighting the angles of the gorgeous kitsune's face, set with eyes of sapphire blue.

Eyes which were narrowed in annoyance and distaste, "I am. Do I have to wear a collar, like the law book said I do?" And it didn't look like Mr. Potter was happy about that qualifier, either!

Luckily, "Oh, nonono no!" Tiffany waved her hands in assurance, "That was probably an older book you read; no, the current law, after the ICW Mandate of 1964, is that all Bonded Spirits and/or Familiars must wear an object they wouldn't normally, so as to identify themselves as not wild or un-Bonded."

Vera seemed to perk up, while Mr. Potter turned thoughtful, "So… a bangle or vest would do?"

Tiffany nodded happily, excited to not only meet the Harry Potter, but a real live kitsune! "Even large earrings or other jewelry have been known to be used. For the moment," she paused, rummaging under her desk, and came back with a simple rope-patterned silver bangle, which she let Vera sniff, "you can have this re-sizing bangle, for the price of 5 Sickles, on top of the 20 Galleon fee for registering a Spirit."

Their reaction was, Tiffany had to admit, totally justified.

"Twenty Galleons?!"

"You could buy a cauldron of gold for that much!"

"How by Kyuubi's glorious ears do you sleep at night?!"

"That's highway robbery!"

"I'm very sorry," Tiffany wilted, bowing slightly to them both, "but that's the price the Ministry Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures has set for Spirits. Unlike most other Magical, ah, beings capable of being Bonded in the Alleys," she clarified diplomatically when boy and Spirit both looked mutinous, "a Spirit is a sort of… wild card, if you follow me. There isn't a set list of things their entire race can do, outside the basics-"

"-and because of that versatility, they make the people in power more nervous," Harry Potter finished with a wince, rolling his staff around in his hand.

Vera only grumbled and mumbled in another language before huffing, "Well, at least I don't have to wear a collar."

Mr. Potter nodded in agreement, and smiled a little again, "Yeah, and it's not putting that much a dent into our spending money."

And then, with another apologetic wince, Tiffany set the inch-thick stack of papers collectively known as the Bonded Spirit Registration Form on the desk.

Both Spirit and Boy-Who-Lived blinked at the stack, then at Tiffany.

She winced harder, "It all needs to be filled out, and the 20 Galleons paid, before you can leave, sorry."

Harry Potter's lips pursed, and his hand dug into one of his robe's pockets while he drawled, "What do you say to a Dragon-"

And the Boy-Who-Lived slapped a great stonking platinum Dragon, the largest coin and denomination of the Magical World, worth a whole 53 Galleons, on the counter.

"-and you fill out anything that I don't need to put my name on?"

Tiffany's mouth flapped open and closed for a moment, visions of eating at The Heath and Brick Oven over in Latter Alley, the best eatery in the Four Alleys, dancing through her mind, warring with the part of her that wanted to drawl 'bribing a government official is a crime, young man'. She looked at the pair.

They gazed back expectantly.

Tiffany took a deep breath, pocketed that big, fat Dragon, and pulled the paperwork toward her, "I'll still need your signatures, and a pawprint from you, Vera, in certain areas; I'll also need to ask certain… personal questions. Though, have no fear; I am bound by law to never reveal what you say in this office to anyone, all and sundry. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Harry Potter smiled widely, just as widely as his kitsune, actually. "Fire away."

After filling out the most boring bits – their names, respective ages, and how long they'd been Bonded – Tiffany asked the first meaty question, "What was the manner of summoning Vera into this world?"

"I sang a song in a circle of standing stones," Harry Potter said fondly, exchanging a warm look with his kitsune while Tiffany had a quiet existential crisis. "Vera liked the song so much, she flitted over into Mundus, and we've been together ever since."

"Wouldn't change that day for all the ice cream in the world, Harry," Vera replied with a wide smile.

Tiffany added a bottle of strong drink to her future purposes and tried to hurry through the questions, lest some eldritch thing suddenly burst free from the soil of Britain and wriggle into her little corner of the world to remind Mr. Potter not to leave the oven on, or some other madness. Standing Stones, honestly! Who was watching the lad?!

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A/N: And thus does the next adventure begin! With paperwork and miserable whimpers due to hand cramps, XD.

Hope you all enjoyed this early Christmas present! The next chapter, Many Shades of Gold, will be out soon-ish, while the SB thread for the collected stories, The Saga of James Stormcaller, will go live tomorrow!

Cheers, everyone!

~Baked