7

Last I checked I was an AB positive, and Harry was an A. The Granger family were all strong Bs, some positive, some negative. So, so much for the 'blood of the mother' transfusion I'd been hoping to give them. They weren't compatible types to either of us.

And I was starting to feel a little ghoulish, running around blood typing people in their sleep like this.

Still, I was doubly bummed that I couldn't just hand over the raising of Harry to those who had begun doing such a good job of it. They were family, and he needed them, but they didn't need me sticking around.

Except Harry did, and I rather suspected something Deus Ex Machina was in the wings prepared to keep me around whether I wanted to or not. Rowling's world did tend to work that way, if her books were any indication. It can't all have been Dumbledore's fault.

Well, actually, it could. But that could still prevail in this case, as, if he found out that Harry wasn't with me I could so easily see him stepping in to destroy the bonding he and the Grangers had begun to achieve, yank him out of their collective bosoms and return Harry to me.

Oh, and that would make so many people happy. NOT!

Well, it wasn't like that had ever stopped him before.

I had left Harry's post-Hogwarts first year memories alone. So nothing of his meeting Sirius and Remus, or his talks or shopping with me had been lost. He merely chose to focus on those new Granger memories, perhaps to the exclusion of all else.

For the present, anyway.

It was an interesting study in one sense, as neither his, nor the Grangers', personalities had been changed at all in spite of how extreme was the work they'd requested on their memories. They were still very much the people they'd been before, except... well, I didn't want to call it an exception, but on receiving the new pasts, those who'd gotten them had discovered they had new tools in their mental arsenals, and those who'd had problems in their personalities before now found new ways of dealing with those, solving them.

So, Harry and the the two girls in particular were focusing hard on the parts of their new pasts that gave them abilities to solve pre-memory charm problems. Things like affection and acceptance for Harry, and whatever mental nutrient girls got by having brothers the girls were working hard to draw out of Harry (who, since he got affection and acceptance in return, was happy to oblige).

So, it wasn't that their memories had changed who they were at all, it was merely the fact that those new pasts provided tools they hadn't had before, and they were using those to resolve problems they'd had before.

In short, they were changing their own personalities, using this as a base only as far as it provided them tools, and they sought the personal growth that such change brought, as it covered holes they'd suffered under, having been previously underdeveloped in this or that.

Aside from being purely mental, it was no different than artists scrambling to get their proper share of new paints that had been delivered, of colors they hadn't had access to before yet needed to complete their pictures. Or like a group starved for citrus getting ahold of a box full of oranges.

They were so very eager to use those new parts because they filled in gaps they'd had before, or provided them with 'mental vitamins' they'd been short on. Thus, they were chowing down like starving animals on the new supply of mental food, only out of need to compensate for a previous lack.

Albus would be SOO popular with this little group if he broke them up!

Still, I had developed one hope during the night of nocturnal blood typing. Hermione was a minus, while her sister was a plus. Since they were both Bs, that meant Hermione's blood was compatible with her younger sister.

Well, as I couldn't count on an Act of God to deliver Lily's blood protection to the Granger family, perhaps I could ask for something smaller, and Neville's story had come to mind. The poor little kid had been tormented by his uncle, who'd been desperate to get him to show forth any hint of magic, even to the point of dangling, then dropping, him out of an upper story window.

Well, why? Kids were either magic or they weren't right?

Except, perhaps, if and I say IF, magic was a potential that didn't always get activated. Maybe something has to get it started, to spark it off, so to speak.

This could be, in many cases, the story of a gifted musician who never studied music. That talent simply lies dormant for most of their lives.

I didn't know any good metaphors for it, but if Neville's uncle came so close to inflicting serious harm or injury to a child, then it was important to them. And, if they felt it was that important, they had a reason. It didn't mean the reason was correct, or even accurate. But they felt they had one.

So, on that thought, an idea had occurred to me as to how I might possibly stave off a catastrophe for the Granger family that I wasn't even sure was going to happen - the loss of Moria.

Should such a thing ever happen, it didn't occur in the books. So it was off-screen, and so probably in the muggle world. Most diseases the muggles had the wizards knew how to cure, a car crash was a scandalous way for a witch to die, and if she was magical too there wouldn't be much to be jealous over, certainly no reason to kill herself, so...

Virtually all of the ways Moria might have perished should be short-circuited if I could get her into Hogwarts. There, she'd only be facing mundane and ordinary sources of extinction like Death Eater attacks or basilisk strikes, the sort of stuff I'd be preventing anyway.

So the question remained, how to do it? And the answer seemed to be, get her to use magic somehow. If that gift slumbered in her somewhere, get her to use it. The wizarding world view on this seemed to be much the same as lighting a lamp. It didn't matter how much fuel you had in there, or how clean your brass or how fresh your wick, it meant nothing until you'd ignited it.

Fair means or foul seemed appropriate if Neville's uncle was a good example. He most certainly wasn't, and I'd never endanger a child's life that way, but I could use his behavior as a measure of desperation as to how important this was to certain magical families.

You know what? I could do something sneaky about it all, but I wasn't going to. I'd just get up in the morning and explain the importance of accidental magic, then let them decide what to do about that. I couldn't imagine them NOT wanting Moria to enter Hogwarts, after all. And even if they didn't, that was their choice, now wasn't it?

I went to sleep with a happy conscience.

Morning came, and while Tonks was monopolizing the shower I had a good chance to explain my concern, and so brought the matter to the attention of the Grangers. They were shocked and horrified that she might not get a Hogwarts letter, none of them more than Moria, although Hermione came in a close second.

No one wanted her not to get her letter, and yet as I explained it, if she had not performed some magic before her eleventh birthday, I did not think that she could expect one.

This thought instantly put the whole family into a tizzy. For Moria, though she was nearly two years younger than Hermione, had a birthday a few months earlier in the year. So if she would be attending at all it would be this year, and her birthday was only a few weeks away.

Moria tried, several times, using borrowed wands to cast any spell she knew of had heard of through Hermione's memories. Hermione was flipping open spell books and Harry stepped in and gave coaching, and it was looking to be a big mess before I decided to offer a 'jump-start' option, by explaining the whole 'wizards equate blood with power' thing, and offering that one of the vampires I had fought once gloated that drinking out of wizards made him more powerful, so perhaps if one of us were to try a small infusion into Moria...

Everyone wanted to be blood typed that minute. So I did it all over again, and 'surprise, surprise!' Hermione could give blood to any member of her family.

Well, we tried the experiment and Moria was using her sister's wand the next minute to float a breakfast burrito off her plate. There came cheering and shouts of happiness, and by late afternoon a Hogwarts letter would arrive by one tired owl fresh from Scotland, to much glee and rejoicing.

However, no sooner had Moria used a spell with her sister's wand than her mother also wanted to give this a try. She'd received Hermione's school memories, as had Moria, but all of Miranda's previous attempts to use her daughter's wand to cast a spell, any spell, had failed.

Well, one small infusion later and she was floating her own burrito through the air. Then Ted gave it a try, and Hermione was being very brave about all of the recent pricks in her arm, but nothing her father did worked for him, in spite of having gotten a shot of her blood.

Still, this hardly did anything to diminish the joy the family felt over Miranda and Moria casting spells, and I couldn't pin down what made it work for them but not for him, so even I didn't know how to make it work for Ted. I'd even offered him a second chance to share the memories they were using, but he declined, and made me promise never to offer again.

However, him being unable to use magic even with a blood transfusion from a functioning witch did agree with my hypothesis that all a transfusion did was act as a starter engine, granting a spark to activate a gift that had already been there, just dormant.

Except, of course, in my case, where JKR's Deus Ex Machina in the form of Lily's blood protection decided to rewrite me according to a different pattern - one by which I could be protecting Harry, thus explaining my extra gifts.

Or that was the going theory of the moment, anyway.

Everything was settled, for good or ill, by the time Tonks came out of her bath. This was not surprising, as she took exceedingly long baths. But she was a teenage girl, so that was almost expected. Still, Tonks was almost as delighted as the Grangers to see Moria casting spells with a wand, and we all promised the delighted and shining little girl a shopping trip for Hogwarts supplies once we got back to England.

A shopping trip her mother was going to be indulging in too, even if she did intend to do all of her studying on the side, being too old for Hogwarts.

It was at this point that Harry hauled out a blank piece of parchment, and with the words, "Of course I was raised in a barn, and I'd like to go home please." (What, did you think they'd use the same password for everything? I thought they were supposed to be creative) words swirled into place on the piece of paper, calling it the Marauder's Guide to Animagus Transformations.

Harry was grinning with a touch of triumph. "I was given this by my birth father's two best friends, Sirius and Remus."

Of course everyone wanted to study it at once, so we had to settle to having the kids take turns reading it aloud to the group.

OoOoO

A return letter from the pensieve-crafter arrived, and I took it and found to my delighted surprise that it contained not only a verbal answer to my questions, but a device contained in the paper itself, that fell out once I had opened the note.

The man had been excited by the puzzle posed by my questions, and had whipped up a brand new device, of which I was gifted the first one, a memory duplicator. And, although the man insisted that it would do exactly as intended and create copies of stored memories, something could be slightly different about them, but he was having trouble pinning down exactly what.

He then went on to explain that he had taken several memories from himself, his wife, and the family dog to duplicate and review. They all seemed fine to him, in spite of multiple viewings of each copy, but he still had a niggling feeling at the back of his throat that something was a bit off.

Nevertheless, if there was he couldn't find it. So I was to use and enjoy the device he had created, and if I came across any oddities be sure to tell him at once.

All rather kind of him.

I immediately tested the device using some spare memories just lying about and it seemed to work as advertised. Viewing them in a pensieve everything seemed alright.

So, I poured Slughorn's bucket through the object, creating enough copies for myself, Dora, Harry, and all of the magical Grangers, with one extra left over to save for future occasions, in case a need or use for it cropped up.

Now, the question was, how to use them?

Oh! Of course! Why hadn't I thought of it before? I grabbed Dora before she could get to her bath and cloister herself in the facilities for close to an hour and skipped off to join the family at breakfast.

"Hello all!" I cried cheerily to each and sundry. "Look, a friend of mine just sent me a letter and, well, Miranda? You know how I was unable to make you a medical doctor because we did not have that material to splice in? Well, this is not muggle medicine, but someone just recently gave me a considerable amount of Potions education, which contributes to magical medicine, and I was wondering who'd like to try it with me?"

Blank stares on all faces save Dora's and Ted's. Then suddenly the rest of them jumped like they'd been stuck by pins, suddenly recalling the lives they lived now were not always normal for them, and that we'd had a conversation about memory bits before.

It was, quite frankly, easy to forget those sorts of things.

Although, no sooner had they considered the change than each waxed poetic in bounding enthusiasm about how well it was working out for them, and so I was, rather predictably, swarmed by eager recruits, all willing to add to their experience in useful ways.

Well and good.

I was tempted, only tempted mind you, to lather Jello into their hair and add fresh lobster to the tops, telling them how it was all part of the spell, but I rather manfully resisted...

...for a few minutes.

Then, with Hermione now sporting a strawberry flavored coiffeur, her mother lime and her sister raspberry, with Harry suffering under chocolate pudding (Ted having excused himself rather early in these proceedings), and Dora in a delightful lemon jello hairdo, I put them all to sleep, cleaned them up with those household charms I stayed endlessly grateful for each and every time I used them, and this time, instead of editing their memories in place as I'd done before (and did not want to mess up a job so very well done) I poured a bucket of memories into each of their ears, ending with my own.

It did not have quite the same effect as those others I had assimilated.

From what I had done before it was obvious the usual perspective was first-person. In other words, you replaced the person who had given the memories in the first place, acting it out as they did.

Well, apparently, that was what had changed in the copy procedure.

With the first person perspective stripped out one simply appeared on scene just as if those memories were being viewed in a pensieve. It wasn't a thing you could notice about the memories if you were checking them over in the standard fashion, but from this perspective it was obvious.

However, the mind did insist upon integrating them. So, when we appeared, it was as students who simply joined in on those classes, recalling them from the point of view of students under Slughorn rather than Slughorn himself.

It was probably better that way.

Another oddity of this copied memory approach was we all joined in these memories together. So, even though I'd poured a different batch into each of our heads, all of us were there participating in one another's versions of events and interacting fully with each other...

As classmates of the Marauders.

Snape was as terrible a person as a student as he'd later be as a teacher, and that brings me up to a rather lengthy tangent.

The only person to ever say that James was anything less than wonderful in the books was Severus Snape, and I wouldn't trust him to tell me that the sky is up. It is also interesting to note that the only person to ever say that Severus Snape is a hero is Severus Snape. What I find fascinating is that he used memories to do so, when we all know from book six that memories can be faked. The specific example of faked memories used in book six was said to be a bad job, which implies rather strongly that there are such things as good jobs of memory faking. And a master Occlumens should be among those most qualified to fake them well, especially one with his own pensieve who could take them out at leisure and review them carefully for detail, doing them over and over again until he got it right.

No, what it boils down to is that Rowling expects us to take Snape's word that Snape is a good guy, and I couldn't think of anyone less trustworthy on any issue of note. If you look at all of the evidence outside of his potentially faked memories, you find a pathetic, hate-filled, hurtful little man who can't give up a childish grudge and who bullies the innocent. And even if you take his memories as valid, then at best he is a creepy, mentally unbalanced stalker who ended up killing the target of his fixation and still treats everyone around him horribly.

So, let us examine the case!

The sum total of all evidence in favor of Snape being a good guy amounts to: Snape says so. Dumbledore believed Snape when he said so (and we all trust that paragon of good judgment to never make a mistake. No, not ever)

Now for the evidence against: We have the testimony of every student who had him as a teacher. Even the Slytherins only like him because they feel he is a BAD guy! Every action of his we SEE, as opposed to hear about, is as foul and rotten as to cross every boundary of good conduct or decent behavior, all of which he should be expected to live up to as a school professor.

Snape joined a cult of murderers, and fit in well enough that not even their leader, who was supposed to be the most accomplished mind-reader in two centuries, and who could insist that his 'loyal' follower lower his mind shields and subject himself to examination, could find any fault with his behavior as far as loyalty to the cause. Not even after other Death Eaters had accused Snape of disloyalty and Voldemort had every right and reason to probe his mind carefully. No, a man who would kill for little or no reason found not even the slightest hint of disloyalty or 'flaws' like regret or remorse in him.

Snape killed Dumbledore, no one says he didn't, but he said he had permission . Now, what would the world be like if we let every murderer go who used the defense "he asked me to"? That is NOT a legally supportable defense! Even assisted suicide is STILL tried as murder! And that is when the victim does the deed mostly by himself and leaves behind letters and other physical evidence of his intentions, more than just the killer's word of "he asked me to"!

And most of those assisted suicide cases had terminal conditions.

On the excuse of having been mistreated as a youth, he'd then gone on to make a career out of abusing children for the rest of his life. It cannot be disputed that Snape terrorized a whole school, ruining countless children's education because he couldn't give up on his desire to inflict suffering on those who'd never done any harm to him, such as Neville Longbottom.

Neville's parents had never done anything to Snape that we hear of, so why does he terrorize Neville? Or was everybody in the world a bully EXCEPT Snape? And he was just 'getting back' at them?

Yeah, right. Like that's believable.

You don't get a entire school full of children terrified of someone without a reason! And that reason is he takes every opportunity to hurt them! That is NOT a nice guy! No matter what he says!

Every opportunity he gets to hurt the students, either individually or as a body in general, he takes.

No, Severus Snape was no more of a 'good guy' than Pol Pot, whatever Rowling said. She may have meant otherwise, but that's not what she wrote.

Actions speak louder than words. And because memories can be faked, they are no better than words: him claiming something.

Now, Snape says that James was a bad guy. What is our evidence there? Once again we are faced with the awe-inspiring force of the argument: Snape says so.

Who else agrees with him? Why, no one! Not even other Death Eaters ever had a word to say against James! Not even PETTIGREW, who'd whined that he 'never meant to kill Lily and James'. Do any other teachers? No, not one of them seems to have anything but the highest opinion of Lily and James. Does ANYONE but Snape EVER say anything nasty about Lily or James? NO! Not even Dumbledore, who blindly agrees with Snape on almost every other issue.

Every other person has a AMAZINGLY high opinion of him! So did Lily, if that was the man she married!

Then, even if we take Snape's claim that he loved Lily as true, how does he treat the child she left behind? Her only legacy and the last bit of 'her' still left in this world? With total contempt and hatred, just as if Harry was all James and no Lily. Or... as if Snape's claims of love for Lily were as false as his other many other statements, say, of loyalty to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord - he had to be lying to one of them!

No, Snape may have been deluded enough to imagine that he loved her, but the evidence at hand all says he never had a clue as to what love really is. If he wasn't just making it up, playing 'pity party' to get Harry to forgive him.

Now THAT! sounds like a manipulative, ambitious person, doesn't it? Lay down a few plots so that no matter which side triumphs, you are on it? Perhaps claim credit for a few events you heard about, but had no part in?

No, if you say 'scheme', suddenly those out of character moments make so much sense with regard to the Snape we actually know, rather than the one we merely hear about.

Ultimately, he did so much hurt and evil during his life that, even if he DID those things he was claiming, it in no way comes close to making up for all of the bad. A rare few, tiny deposits on the good side doesn't counter the massive karmic debt he worked up being evil, hurting an entire generation of kids - and let's not even discuss his Death Eater duties!

And what about Snape's claim that James and his friends were bullies, not Severus himself? Well, claims aside, every time we see Snape in the books HE is the one being a bully (or a toady). So, which do you want to believe, his claims or his actions? They do nothing but contradict each other, so it is one or the other.

Every time we see Snape 'on screen' as it were, he is an evil, self-righteous bastard whose behavior is less mature than a typical kindergarten student. And he maintained that for over a decade when there was no hint of his old boss around to impress. But we are supposed to believe it when he tells us he's really a tender old softy inside?

It can only be two things, either insanity (schizophrenia and delusions are both possibilities), or it is a scheme. Either the guy is fruitier than a nutcake, or he was lying to get off easy should the Light win in the end.

I'd been an actor long enough to know that the longer you wear the mask, the less it becomes a mask. Anyone who takes on a role finds themselves slowly shifting to become it. So, even if this STARTED as a part Snape was playing... it didn't stay one for long.

There is an old saying used to comfort shy children, "Act like you are more confident, and you will be."

However, in Snape's case that quote could be modified to, "Act like an evil, self-righteous, stuck up prick, who carries childish grudges forever, and picks on those weaker than him, and you will be."

Rowling's attempt to 'save' Snape in her last book made about as much difference as rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. The man was evil.

A few, isolated good deeds do not make up for a lifetime spent doing harm. Hitler did favors for people he liked, but are you going to think he is a hero? And that's even assuming those deeds even happened.

No one with any sense is going to argue that Snape didn't destroy the potions education of who even knows how many students, and Potions is a required subject for both Healers and Aurors - jobs that save lives.

So, Snape was directly responsible for more destruction over a longer time than probably any other Death Eater.

And Albus helped him do it.

Myself, I learned first hand from living Slughorn's Potions class memories that the Marauders, even Pettigrew, were among the best people you could ever know. They were kind, witty, fun and stood up for others when those others needed standing up for.

Their 'pranks' were a justice system, a supplement to the school one when and where it did not work as it should. Little toadies like Draco (or in this case Severus, who played almost the same role as a youth, just a little more intelligently) who could play the system against itself and so get away with appalling misconduct were the targets of this little band of brothers.

Slughorn would protect his favorites, not as brazenly and openly as Severus had done, but still rather badly if you'd taken care to buy him off with treats and favors.

We couldn't know about the rest of the school in detail, as those memories were strictly of Potions classes, but we did hear enough to know that there were others among the staff who behaved similarly.

Was that school EVER run well? By which I mean fairly?

Okay, I'll admit that brown nosing, bribery and status seeking made for great preparation for work in the Ministry of Magic, but...

IT SHOULDN'T BE THAT WAY!

Oh well, tangent over, we all woke up from our brief memory induced nap and felt both sadder and wiser by the experience. It wasn't the same as living those years with Harry's parents, as we could not interact with them, but we did come out of it knowing a heck of a lot more about them.

Oh, and Potions too.

I was surprised with myself for that feeling. Potions knowledge had been my entire purpose before, with the Marauding days a pleasant side note. Now my feelings had swung entirely the other way, with those memories of Harry's parents being cherished, and the Potions lore a mere add-on. A pleasant one, welcomed in its way, useful, but secondary to the real heart of the issue.

Wow. Wherever they went, those guys had a powerful effect on people.

Snape did too, only everyone who knew him hated him.

Well, not entirely feeling like it, I still mustered enough courage to get out of my chair and start prodding the others into activity. We spent all of that day brewing potions of various sorts, solidifying our knowledge and getting real life experience to anchor our dreams.

It was also plenty useful to have a ready stock of potions about, it must be said.

"Anybody want some tea?" Miranda started to hand around cups to an accepting crowd. When she came to me I shook my head.

"No. Thank you."

She blinked at me in surprise. "Is it the blend?" She gave an understanding smile. "I know you rich toffs really cultivate your taste buds, and this is a little humble."

"No, I don't drink tea."

Some blinking. "You are British aren't you?" Moria asked.

"No," I was in such good humor I was almost laughing. "It's not that at all. I am under oath not to partake of coffee, tea, alcohol or tobacco. They are against my religion."

Ted shuffled his newspaper, grinning in good humor as he objected. "While I may agree with you as to the horrors of that alternative road surfacing known as 'coffee', a good cup of tea is a mark of culture and good health. Green teas are anyway, white teas are only suitable for a wakeup call at breakfast."

Miranda stood blinking, teapot still in hands. "Just curious, I can understand the coffee and wine bits, but what's wrong with tea? Is it the caffeine part? Because a lot of herbal teas have no affect at all on the human body, and are just yummy. Like berry or citrus flavors and such. Or is it something about the tea making process?"

I laughed, reaching into a pocket. "Nothing like that at all. Or rather, it may be but it doesn't matter. The commandment was given back when practically everyone in the Western Hemisphere drank alcohol and smoked, and the tea and coffee drinking habits were as well established then as they are now. It was another hundred years before science began to say 'Hey, wait a minute! Something about this actually seems to hurt people!' No, if you'll search the scriptures you'll find that God gives a great many more commandments than He does explanations. He commands, and we obey. That's all it takes."

Hermione's face scrunched up in disagreement. "But why? Why would anyone obey blindly like that? It doesn't make any sense."

She spoke as if chiding me for being a child.

It did nothing to dim my good humor, and I cracked open the scripture set I had retrieved from out of my pocket. "Do you mean to say you don't follow the instructions of parents or teachers who know a great deal more about a subject than you? The key is that's it's not blind. I have verified the Source, and whatever He says is acceptable. As for why I do it? Because you can no sooner obey a commandment than the Lord doth immediately bless you, and I can use all of the blessings I can get."

"So, what sort of blessing does he offer you for not drinking tea?" Harry asked, in tones that sounded rather strongly of a curious Hermione.

"I'm glad you asked." I returned, finding the section in question. "Here it is, at the end of the description of the rules I just described to you: And all saints who remember to keep and do these sayings, walking in obedience to the commandments, shall receive health in their navel and marrow to their bones; And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures; And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint. And I, the Lord, give unto them a promise, that the destroying angel shall pass by them, as the children of Israel, and not slay them. Amen."

"Amen," half the family echoed, without thinking about it.

I closed my scripture set with a slap of pages, smiling at them. "Now, I don't know about anyone else, but for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. I also have to admit a certain desire to receive 'strength beyond my capacity' and other things that have been mentioned in conjunction with the various commandments I've been keeping. The Word of Wisdom, or the health code I just described to you, is but one of them."

"Isn't that a lot of work?" Ted muttering disbelievingly.

I laughed good naturedly, spreading my hands. "Do I look unhappy? Ask rather this: Would God, who knows all things, and desires for all men to be happy, give us any instructions that would harm us? Some of them may seem to from our limited understanding, but overall they work to our good. I see it this way: I can either learn by hard experience, bumping and bruising myself stumbling around in the dark to learn what's good for me and what isn't, or I can trust He who knows. I mean, really, how hard a choice is that to make? I bruise easily."

Harry looked up at Miranda, asking, "Do we have any juice in the fridge?"

The woman nodded, setting down her teapot. "Yes. I'll go get it."

Ted scowled and served himself a cup of tea.

OoOoO

The remainder of that extra week was spent equal parts playing and training. Which, considering all female Grangers (and now Harry too) were all study-aholics, I couldn't tell which of those they found more fun.

Well, good for them.

Dora was able to teach us all, or at least us magic types, how to apparate just by repeating the lessons she'd been so recently given (it was done during the last year of school, which she'd only just completed). And I had a friend from the Roman Ministry (they'd still kept the old name back from the old days when this was the capital seat of an empire) issue us all international apparation licenses. Such was my fame that he didn't even ask, or test us, just filled out some forms sight unseen.

I kept forgetting at times how fame could be so powerful.

We kept refining our recently acquired Potions skills, and I was reminded of just why this was considered a core subject at Hogwarts, as these things could be so amazingly useful! It was in some ways like being able to carry a spell around in your pocket, except that potions did things no charm could do, and vice versa.

We did have seven years of Potions study to solidify in our minds, so we did a lot of brewing. I was grateful for this, as buying potions pre-made was costly and this was a good way of getting our stocks in on useful things. We even started a few batches of Polyjuice (once I prompted Dora to admit that was a potion on some of the OWL tests).

Even Tonks was eager to participate with us on this, as she explained she'd learned at least twice as much from those Slughorn memories as she ever had from Snape.

Harry and Hermione were both eager to agree he was the superior teacher.

So brewing our own was good practice to make those lessons our own, and it was wise in the long term, as not only was it expensive to buy them already made, but sometimes it was a matter of life and death who you trusted with things you put in your mouth. Plus, if you wanted to keep secrets, some things you just had to brew yourself.

We also found time for the whole family of us to have our portraits done by some very talented Italian artists, both as individuals, then as groups. And I'd early on bought some good cameras so we could create a photo record of our vacation, trading the cameras around so we caught many actions scenes as the rest of us played around or just had fun.

For his entire life, from the books, Harry had been clinging to a tiny slice of happy life that he could no longer even remember - his life with his parents. So I felt it was time that he had more happy events to remember.

Dora also gave Harry and I instruction and helped us practice our metamorph abilities, which were coming along nicely, by which I mean we were showing a substantial amount of progress, not that we were anywhere near good yet.

She also tested the Grangers, but no positives there.

By playing host and 'rich uncle' I was able to use my charm to resolidify my place in the unit at last, so while Harry shared out vital animagus secrets from his Marauder's Guide, I chipped in and offered up for study the books on Occlumency Albus had loaned me. And, I have to admit, studying with a trio of Granger girls was an experience not to be missed, as they had sharp minds that leapt to insights in a heartbeat, and the more of them you gathered together, the more this reaction fed upon itself.

Better still, they could often turn around and explain it in ways that helped you understand points the books often failed to get across.

Possessing an agile mind as I did, I was far from sterile of ideas on my own and was able to participate in these round table discussions as an equal partner, while Harry, who was still sharpening his mind after years of disuse, learned quickly not only the subject, but our study styles. Dora just watched, wide eyed, head moving back and forth as if at a tennis match.

Ted rented boats and went out fishing during our magic discussions.

I was glad he was having fun.

Sometime during this I had, with everyone's permission, taken inside of me my saved copy of the new Granger Family History (taking it in addition to everything else already in my head, rather than in replacement of, seeing as I knew I could handle the strain) to aid with my understanding and help me in these discussions. This time, I made official my 'rich uncle' position, as an unrelated friend of Hermione's parents from dental school who'd kept up that relationship through the years.

And, again with their permission, a few wand flicks had solidified this in their minds as well. So that eliminated the last of the awkwardness. As, to their minds at least, I'd often stayed over at their house, and they at mine, and we'd frequently shared our vacations together.

So it was, for all involved, a most amazingly productive week, and possibly the best part of all of it was on the last day of it when I found a friend in the Roman Ministry who was both able and willing to explain how the underage magic detection charms worked, and how to remove them.

So, it was spells-free for Harry and the Granger kids from that point.

OoOoO

Well, now on reviewing my skills I could say that I had an extremely solid grounding in Hogwarts' first year subjects, seeing as I'd taken in Hermione's memories of those and she'd not only studied the lot, she'd gone ahead and done extra! I'd also taken her primary school education, so now I had a better taste of standard British education up to a point.

And I was a dentist, thanks to Miranda, and 'our' shared school years with her and Ted (and what was up with Ted lately? He's acting so strange).

I also had a good, solid handle on the standard seven years of Potions study. Everything else magical was a hodgepodge and a mixmash of mismatched skills, with certain specialties, but that was to be expected.

I had, from among those memories Lockhart had stolen, an extremely good grounding in household magic, and my first hand exposure to magical beasts and creatures ranged from a near encyclopedic knowledge of pests all of the way up to include mainstays such as vampires, hags and ghouls, then some of the rarest of all magic creatures like one encounter with a demiguise, an ape-like creature whose hair can be spun into invisibility cloaks. (The wizard from whom Lockhart got the material for his novel 'Year with the Yeti' was actually a trained hunter of demiguise who'd gotten cut off from civilization, and whose discovery of the beast enabled him to harvest its pelt and weave a cloak which he used to escape back to his native country).

Although, I was notably short on exposure to the higher end of dangerous magical monsters, such as acromantulas, basilisks, chimera, graphorn, manitcores and sphinxes, dementors and lethifolds, giants and dragons.

The basilisk thing was worrisome, as I felt sure I'd be meeting one of those soon. Too soon by some standards. I hoped I survived the experience. But if I did, I'd have to curb my urge to celebrate until I'd faced Voldy's dementors and giants, which appeared on the playbook not long after.

I had a smattering of healing spells, an ability that was shored up by our recent acquisition of superior understanding of basic potions (although there are many things they do not cover in a basic Hogwarts education). But I still considered this a weak subject, and I wanted all of the strength I could get on it. Dangers always brought with them a recurring need for medicine, and I'd probably be in the thick of it and could use every bit of anything I could get in this area. So despite having credit for great advances there, I felt the need for vast improvements on my talents in this department.

Not the least of my medical concerns was converting over other muggle ideas, like corrective eye surgery for Harry (and I'm sure Harry wasn't the only one). Something they did not yet have a magical cure for. A cure which really ought to be easy, given what I knew of how the muggles were able to treat eye problems that wizards did not.

I had taken in the specialized knowledge of an actual Sea Witch, so felt very comfortable in an aquatic environment, and could do things with boats that would probably prove useful. I had, at the very least, a 'home turf' advantage in water now, which could be strategically valuable if applied correctly.

My smattering of mismatched spells included a decent amount of defensive magic. But this was another subject on which I felt a need for constant (and considerable) improvement.

Occlumency was not a subject mastered overnight, so I had a long way to go on that topic before my skills were at a useful level. Harry would probably be feeling a benefit there sooner than I would, as blocking out his connection scar gave him a useful training tool.

But we'd all still be averting our eyes from Dumbledore for quite a while.

Our metamorph abilities were not so very hard to acquire. But, like drawing, while the basic skills were easy to get we'd be a long time achieving artistry. And, for now, we were still working toward our basic skill set there.

Thus, in a nutshell, I was considerably more able to hold up the heroic image my predecessor had made for himself. I could be quizzed on a number of topics he was supposed to know about without fear of being tripped up, and could cast the majority of spells he was supposed to know. So, I was in no real danger of being proven a fraud any longer.

However, I also had a long way to go before I'd judge myself to be anywhere close to being as competent as I felt I ought to be, or indeed needed to be!

There was a whole lot of nasty stuff coming this way.

My combat spells were scattered and spotty. If I, or an ally of mine, got hit I'd be very unlikely to be able to heal the injury. I knew some creatures but not a comprehensive list, and was especially weak on the truly dangerous stuff (most of which was due to get involved in this little adventure sooner or later). Most years of most Hogwarts subjects were a loss to me, and I'd be doing alot of work to recover from my predecessor's inattentiveness.

On the plus side, I had a couple of lifetimes worth of mastery of several of the martial arts, both armed and unarmed, and my body was beginning to acclimate to those nicely. That would be a useful trump card to hold in reserve for a good surprise or two.

I had a fair amount of musical and other art skills, including several singing voices, which I liked, even though they did little to improve my situation. And I had a smattering of totally unconnected trades, like cobbler and beautician, while I had Harry's experience to make me a proper domestic.

One skill I needed to have, but didn't, was that of curse breaker. That was a specialty present among Lockhart's collection of memories, well represented even, as those brave men and women ventured down into all sorts of places where they had amazing adventures and encounters he'd found fascinating. It was just that the original Lockhart had, once he'd collected a good bit of those stories, realized that he'd never be able to pass himself off as having done them without the rare treasures they'd secured to back his claims up.

So I'd be dipping into those soon, as that was a skill ideal for horcrux hunting.

Oh well. The week was over, our vacation ended, and it was time that we, sandy and sweaty and having had a marvelous time, go back to rejoin English society.

I knew our time away was too good to last forever.

---

Author's Notes:

It helps me to stand back from a character who has recently been gaining abilities, and sum up what can and can't be done by him after such a major change.

I also wanted to quantify memory charms. They are not all-powerful, or at least not in this work. Rowling made them pretty scary. But where she placed no limits on them, I do, and first among those is the fact that while they can alter memories to an amazing degree (but only the degree she first gave them), I don't let them touch personality. And, a fact I haven't gotten to yet, if you implant memories that are not a good fit for that personality it will fight against them and could eventually tear free.

The fact that things are working out with Harry and the Grangers is due to the fact that they all chose compatible memories. Not an exact fit, but close enough. And since they are getting what they want out of them, along with constant reinforcement, they are likely to hold.

But that's because they want them to.

So nobody is going to be waving their wands to make bad guys into good guys, or vice versa, or at least they won't by the up-front, brute-force method. But then, lots of things that would fail by brute force methods could succeed if you've got a little force and a lot of cleverness.

Still, setting out to achive what is often called impossible, sometimes succeeding and sometimes not, that is what makes a story isn't it?