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.

P.S.- If you recognize something you know I didn't come up with, I don't own that either.

A/N: This isn't the chapter I originally intended to put here. I had started that one before I realized I'd screwed up my timeline and figured it would be easier to push that one back a chapter, pull up the next chapter (What? Doesn't everybody write the good stuff then go back and write the blah filler to tie them together?) add the first part to this one and here we are. Hope you like it. And to those of you who want to know what happened in Gringotts…maybe. Sometime. When you least expect it. TA! ER

Chapter 15: Visits and Late-Night Meetings

"Thanks Tom." Harry stated as he grabbed the four butterbeers off the bar, two in each hand.

With only three days left until his taking his seats in the Wizengamot, Harry knew he really should be preparing and rehearsing his opening speech, but he felt he needed to get this over with as soon as possible as much for the girl he was going to see as well as for himself. Since he had an appointment later that night it only made sense to do it all on the same day.

Narcissa had explained about the marriage contract and why he needed to meet her, and he'd been tempted to just send her a letter and tell her no. However, he would need allies in the coming years, and she was an heiress of a noble house, one with a Wizengamot seat and a vote. Being polite wouldn't kill him and it might help over time.

He went up the stairs to the small room he'd made arrangements for, one generally used for meetings such as this, and pushed the door open.

As Tom had told him, she'd already arrived, and she stood from her seat at the table as he entered. "Lord Potter-Black." She said with some trepidation as she gave a small curtsey. He could see the worried look on her face.

"Really, Miss Bulstrode?" he snarked, the side of his mouth curling up in a half grin. "Seven years in school as just plain 'Potter' and now it's Lord Potter-Black?" He placed the four chilled bottles in the center of the table. "Please, take a seat. Butterbeer?"

She stared at him for a moment before sitting back down and reaching for a bottle. Millicent Bulstrode had never been a pretty girl. To be truthful, calling her plain would be stretching the point. Big boned, she looked fat but was actually just meaty, with thick fingers, a squarish face with a large jaw and small, beady eyes. He remembered she'd had thin, lank hair but it was drawn back into a bun now.

He noticed her robes were clean and well kept, but not of a high quality. He'd spent an exhaustive day with Narcissa at one point in his education going over the importance of being able to look at somebody, their appearance, their body language, their facial expression, their clothing, and be able to read them, to be able to tell how they felt about something or what their position might be. He could tell she at least had a good sense of her own worth while not being so good in a financial way.

"That was back when you didn't have any power and I never thought you would and stupid enough to act the way I did." She replied as she opened the bottle and took a sip. He sat down and opened his own as she watched him warily. "Now you're the head of two powerful families and could crush me without even thinking about it."

"No crushing today and if we're civil with one another probably not ever. If you like, it's Potter or even Harry. I'm not really big on formality. What name do you prefer to go by?" He tipped the bottle back and took a long pull on it, even as he watched her.

She continued with the wary look. "Millie is fine."

"Any idea why I asked you to meet me?" he asked her.

"Probably, but I'd like you to tell me so I don't look like an idiot if I'm wrong." She held her bottle in both hands as it sat on the table before her.

He pulled the scroll out of an inner pocket of his robes and dropped it on the table between them. She looked at it laying there and sighed heavily in a resigned fashion, but said nothing.

"Why would your mum do that to you, Millie?" he asked. "Why would she offer you to me like that, knowing our history?"

"Because she's a greedy bitch?" Was the dull sounding answer. She didn't take her eyes off the scroll. "Because she wants me out of her house and out of her life until I give her a grandson?"

"Did you know about it?"

She finally looked up at him. "Not this one." She said.

"This one?" His surprise was heard in his tone of voice.

"Yeah." She raised her bottle and took a big drink, then leaned back in her chair. She suddenly grinned. "I hope it doesn't hurt your ego to find out you're not the first to get a chance at this choice piece of meat." She indicated herself sarcastically. "You are number four actually, though I will say you're the first that's not at least twice my age, uglier than me, dumber than a troll, all three or in any combination thereof." She nodded at the parchment. "What is she asking for a bride price? Five thousand?"

"How did you know?"

She laughed painfully as she drained the bottle. "The first was twenty. Can you imagine that? Thinking anybody would pay that much for me? She's delusional. The next was fifteen, then ten. I guess the next one she'll just offer to give me away and the one after that she'll offer to pay them to take me."

He contemplated the young woman for a moment. "You're being awfully hard on yourself."

"Look, Potter. I know what I look like and I've made peace with it. Vinnie Crabbe was the only person who I might have wanted to get married with because he didn't care either, but I might not have. I don't know and it doesn't matter now because he's dead. What I do care about are my dreams and right now every single one of them is right there on that table, tied up with a little ribbon just waiting to be destroyed." She leaned forward. "All you have to do is sign your name and they turn to dust. What I'm hoping is for once in my life the way I look will be a good thing because you won't want a wife who looks like I do."

"What kind of dreams?" Harry's question seemed to throw Millie off course if the surprised look she gave him was any indication. He knew she was thinking of him taking revenge for all the things she and the other Slytherins had done in school, but unlike Narcissa he really didn't care. It wouldn't change anything; they'd been kids and he didn't think he could hurt someone like that just to hurt them. So, he let it go.

She was leaning back in her chair again and he supposed she was wondering if he intended to do anything to her based on her answer. "I want to be an enchantress." She told him, looking like she expected a blow of some sort from him.

"Really? How's it going? Your mastery should be about done, shouldn't it?"

She snorted. "Hardly. It took over two years for me to find a master who would accept me as an apprentice."

"I thought purebloods got whatever they wanted." Harry drawled. "At least that's what I always heard at school."

Millie finished her bottle. "Yeah, so did I." She said disgustedly. Harry raised a brow in surprise at her tone. "Turns out we only get what we want when the other people who want it aren't purebloods." She sighed heavily. "They lied to us and never told us we might have to work for what we want."

Harry chuckled at her dilemma. "Real life is a bitch. So, mastery?"

She glanced at him. "It takes two NEWTS to be an enchanter, arithmancy and runes." She explained. "I worked hard at both of them but…I'm not smart. I'm not stupid but like I said, I'm not smart. I had an acceptable in arithmancy and an exceeds in runes."

Harry could guess. "Everybody you contacted wanted O's." He said softly. She nodded. "Somebody must have said yes."

"Some of them didn't even bother answering, some of them politely said 'no', some of them basically said 'don't bother me again'. Then one day I got an owl from the last one I had written to. She said if I could find her, we would talk and she gave me an address." She looked hard at him. "Do you know where Liverpool is? How big it is? How many muggles are there? I sure didn't!"

He had to grin at her consternation. "She lives there?"

"Lives and works there." She reached out and took another bottle. "She has a shop in a shopping district there, a muggle shopping district. Damn city doesn't have a magical one."

He laughed outright this time. The idea of the pureblood girl in front of him working in a store among thousands of non-magical people was simply to funny. "Your master, your magical teacher, has a store in the middle of a non-magical area?" At her nod he asked, "What kind of store?"

"A magic store."

He gaped at her for a moment before blurting out, "You're kidding me!"

She shook her head a small smile pulling at her lips at the absurdity of the idea. "Uh uh. It's not really magical, it's what the muggles think is magical: crystal balls, crystals, astrological posters, incense, different kinds of wands, those sorts of things. She also has muggle tricks, sleight of hand magic they use, games and figurines of dragons, fairies and pixies." She gave him a wry grin. "Believe me, the muggles have no idea what fairies and pixies really look like."

"Sounds like a great way to hide in plain sight." He told her, impressed by the unknown woman.

"Yeah, and it took me three damn weeks to find her." She said before taking a pull on the bottle. "I'd still be looking for her if I hadn't overheard some muggles hailing a cab." She looked across the table at him. "Muggle Studies at school is a joke!"

He laughed in agreement, remembering Hermione's same evaluation of the course. "I guess she took you on?"

A nod. "She said finding her was a test; if I could do it, it showed I was at least smart enough that I might be worth her time and trouble despite what my grades were. Put me to work right there."

He smiled. "How's it going?"

She shrugged. "Pretty good now, but the first six months sucked. See, right by the cash register she has a basket full of these little paper scrolls." He noticed she had said paper instead of parchment without even thinking about it. "They have runic sayings on them, peace to you, have a prosperous life, things like that, with a tiny little translation at the bottom and the name Earth Magic, that's the name of her store, on the back. Every time I rang up a sale, I'd drop one of those little scrolls into the bag with the purchase. For the first six months I learned how to run the store and sat and wrote runic phrases, in every runic language. Over and over and over. It was so damn boring, but she explained that to do good enchantments the runes needed to be perfect. I must have watched her bin thousands of those things because she didn't think they were good enough."

She took a drink and when she spoke again, it was in a more pensive tone of voice. "Then one day she was checking the ones I had finished and without a word she pulled out her wand and waved it and they all rolled up and little ribbons tied them and into the basket they went. I must have looked like an idiot, standing there with my mouth hanging open in surprise. She looked at me and said 'since you seem sincere in your wish to be an enchantress, I will teach you. Now the fun begins!'. After that she began tutoring me in arithmancy and showing me how to do runes. She only started showing me how to design arrays about a year ago and how arithmancy fits into that. With any luck I'll start doing real enchanting sometime next year."

"So, a few more years?"

"Yeah, if I'm lucky." She suddenly grinned sheepishly. "Mirabelle, that's her name, sometimes gets so frustrated with me she tells me I need to work harder if I'm going to get my mastery before she dies of old age."

The two of them laughed together for a moment before he asked, "How do you feel about working among muggles?"

Her look this time was thoughtful. "They're people." She said softly. "Growing up, all I heard about them was they were savages, animals, cattle good only for our use and entertainment." She turned her eyes to him. "But they're not. Except we have magic they're no different than we are. I've seen muggles who remind me of everyone I knew at school, everyone I know, good and bad. They have the same problems we do, and the same joys. They're us and with some of the things they have, except for the way we dress, we're them."

She looked at her hands on the bottle for a moment. "I have a much better idea how Granger and others like her must feel when they come to Hogwarts now. At least I had some idea what their world was like, even if it was so far out of date. I respect her a lot more now than I did then."

"Tearing up your Pureblood Club membership card there, Millie?" he teased.

She gave him a self-conscious grin. "I didn't say I liked her, I didn't. She was to mouthy and full of herself sometimes but…I came to respect her. You knew where you stood with her, and she kept her word. She never tried to stab you in the back and was always ready to help anybody who asked her. She was an idiot sometimes, especially with that elf crusade of hers, but she was willing to fight for what she believed in, and I've since learned that some of those things are good things to believe in. She could have made big changes in our world, changes it needs."

Harry watched her. She had turned her gaze to the wall as she talked, soft and low, almost as if she were talking to herself. "You like the non-magical world." He said as a statement, not a question.

She looked back at him, staring as if she'd forgotten he was there, before she answered. "Yeah, I do. I've made muggle friends there, wear muggle clothes, eat muggle foods, I even have a cell phone in case Mirabelle needs to get in touch with me. I watch the telly sometimes at work when I take a break from studying or minding the store. I've seen the stupid things they do, but also the great ones. I can be me in that world and not the bargaining chip I am in ours. I can make my own decisions there, not have to obey those of people over me, here." She looked into Harry's eyes. "We needed Granger, Potter, and people like her. She didn't deserve to die," she turned away, her voice weakening, "especially like that."

Harry sat still and unmoving, thinking on what he'd heard. Did she know how Hermione had died?

He'd wondered about that for years. He knew the story, how she'd stood over a dying Ron Weasley, casting furiously at the Death Eaters in the great hall, until suddenly she was down, but nobody he'd talked to at the time had seen exactly what had happened to her. Did Millie know?

"Did you know what happened to her?" he asked, trying not to sound as eager as he was.

She shrugged before turning to look at him. "Not directly. I overheard someone saying that her, Davis and Greengrass had tried to take on the entire group of Death Eaters before they killed her, probably by AK, and put down the others. Then he laughed and said she'd collapsed right on top of Weasley, like they were trying to do a sixty-nine. I didn't know what he was talking about at the time, but I still punched the son-of-a-bitch in the face and told him to have some respect for the dead. I found out later what it meant and was glad I did."

He gave her a sad smile. "Thank you." Not the answer he wanted but one more detail.

She returned the smile. "You're welcome."

"I saw Tracey at the ball and saw what happened to her, any idea what happened to Greengrass?"

"No. I've talked with Tracey a few times, but I don't know what happened with Daphne and Tracey won't tell me. The berk I punched said something about her looking like her face had been ripped off, but I don't know…" She tilted he head and stared at him. "What's your interest in Daphne?"

"Like I said, I saw Davis at the ball and made a remark to the effect they'd been attached at the hip in school and I would have expected to see her at the ball. That was when Tracey told me she'd been badly injured. I intend to have business dealings with her mother, and I don't want to put my foot in my mouth, again, and say something that would bring up bad memories."

"You didn't know?"

He shook his head. "My brain kinda shut down when I found out about Hermione, then what the Ministry had done with the Muggleborns bodies, taking her home and her mother's reaction…well, I just didn't process a lot of what happened."

"I'm really, truly sorry for what happened, Harry."

He believed her. He had known her, vaguely, at school, but that girl and this one were two different people. He smiled sadly. "Thanks, Millie, that means a lot."

They were both silent for a few minutes and then, trying to lighten the mood, he said, "I don't know if you knew that Lady Malfoy is with me…"

Her whole demeanor changed, brightened, and she smiled wickedly. "Oh, yeah! I had the great good fortune to be at the breakfast table with mum when the Prophet was delivery the day after the ball. She paled so much I thought she'd crapped her knickers. Finding out Narcissa Malfoy was back, in a position of power, and on your arm scared the hell out of her." She laughed. "Thanks."

Well, Narcissa would be pleased to hear that. "Well, despite what you might have heard, I hired her to educate me in pureblood ways and traditions, how to be a Lord and head of house, all of the stuff I should have learned growing up." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I figured if she could teach Draco, she could teach anybody."

"So, she's not your mistress?" Millie asked with a wicked grin.

"Teacher's should never get involved with their students." He replied with an equally wicked grin. She laughed and clapped her hands. "But she has also appointed herself my social secretary and has been going through my mail." He reached across the table and picked up the scroll that lay between them. Millie suddenly had an apprehensive look on her face. "She mentioned as a sort of afterthought that it's not socially proper to offer a second marriage contract if a first one has not yet been denied. Now, considering your perseverance and work ethics, your change in attitude and beliefs, I find myself in a quandary: should I or should I not accept this contract? I can tell it's going to take quite a bit of thought to decide, not to mention time. It could take years, say three to five?"

Her mouth had dropped open in shocked disbelief at what he was saying. "You'd really do that?" she gasped.

He grinned. "You mean hamstring your mother's efforts to marry you off? You bet. I know Narcissa would love to draw it out for that long. She gets in a real bitchy mood when she thinks about certain people and your mother is on that list."

"Why would you do that? We never got along in school; I helped make your life miserable."

"Because I have dreams, too, Millie. I know how they can motivate you, drive you. Yours is a good one and I want to see you achieve it." He grinned. "I also have an ulterior motive. I recently found out I own or control quite a few companies, many of which need master enchanters, of which there is always a shortage. When you get your mastery, owl me and I guarantee I'll find you a job."

"I don't know what to say but…thank you."

"That was quite enough right there." He told her as he pulled a wallet out of an inner robe pocket. Taking a biro that was hooked into it he began writing on one of the pages before tearing it off. He passed it across the table to her. "That's to stick in your mother's eye, if you like."

Her eyes widened as she looked at the bank draft in her hand. "Five thousand galleons? What's this for?"

He shrugged. "Call it an investment. I've heard getting a mastery is expensive, which is probably one reason she's trying to get you married. Since I'm not going to sign that contract, even if it takes five years to officially decide that, I've got a few unused galleons lying around." He smiled kindly at her. "Achieve your dream, Millie, then dream another, and another and another."

She just stared at the draft for a few moments before looking up at him. "Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome."

After she'd left Harry opened the last butterbeer, leaned back in his chair and took a big swig from it. Huh. He thought. Purebred through and through Millicent Bulstrode liking non-magicals and their world. Maybe there's hope yet.

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

She stepped into the pub and looked around. She didn't expect to find her quarry here but knowing the way the universe worked if she didn't look this would have been where she'd find her as she made the rounds. It was the third pub she'd checked in Knockturn and she was about to turn and leave when she saw a commotion at the end of the bar in a corner. She pulled her wand as she stalked over to the struggling pair.

"Get off me! I said no!"

Narcissa recognized Suzy as the speaker even as she stuck the tip of her wand into the man's ear and pushed. The girl had come up in the world, though that was relative as she was still working in Knockturn and not Diagon.

"OW! Hey, you crazy bitch!" The man cried as he tried to move his head away from her wand only to smash it into the wall beside him.

"Shut it, Evans." She snarled at him. "You know the rules, she said no, it meant no!"

The man recognized her and didn't seem to care for her. "Malfoy, you stupid bint, I'll argh!"

She'd increased the pressure on his ear as she leaned in closer. "One tiny little reductor, Evans, and the contents of your skull turn into pudding." She said, barely above a whisper. "We drag your sorry arse to a dark corner and dump it and it'll be three days and a really bad smell before anyone realizes you're not just sleeping off a really bad bender."

"You wouldn't dare you fucking bit…"

"Reduc…"

"Alright! Alright!" The suddenly frightened man yelled and put his hands up.

Narcissa pulled him back from the other woman and pressed him back against the bar. Transferring her wand from his ear to his right nostril she pushed his head back. "Now, you get the hell out of the alleys for tonight and don't let me catch you pulling this shite again or I'll go straight to Clarisse and you know what that means don't you?" As the man's eyes widened at the threat she smirked. "That's right, no more for you ever again anywhere in the alleys." She wiped the tip of her wand off on the front of his coat. "Now get out of here before I decide to tell her anyways."

He headed for the door in a hurry and she turned towards the barkeep who was scowling at her for running off a paying customer. She ignored him and turned back to Suzy. "Are you alright?"

The other woman grinned and nodded back at her. "Yeah, thanks." The woman gave her an appraising look. "Never thought I'd see you back down here though, now that you hooked yourself another lord with all the fancy clothes and jewels and wines you could want, especially after you disappeared with the Shadow Man."

"Yes, well, I thought I'd come down and show off my new wealth to everybody." She struck a pose and pushed her hair up a little in a mockery of a snobbish pureblood. "What do you think?"

Suzy laughed at her display. "I think you're glad as hell you're only visiting."

Narcissa sighed. "Not really. I'm looking for Clarisse. Have you seen her tonight?"

"Not yet. What do you need her for Cissy?"

"Business." She explained. "I really need to talk to her, and I just stopped in to check and see if she was here." She reached into an inner pocket. "Here. Take these and take a night off… or three."

Suzy looked at the five galleons in her hand. "What are these for?" She asked out of curiosity. She didn't offer to give them back though.

Narcissa shrugged. "Because you were the only person who was even anywhere halfway close to being a friend when I showed up here and because I had a bad habit of wondering what I'd do if someone just handed me a handful of money. I figure you've done the same thing from time to time."

She heard a low chuckle. "A good hot meal at the Leaky Cauldron, a hot bath and a bed with clean sheets, alone, is what! See you around, Lady Malfoy."

Narcissa laughed at her mocking her own posing earlier as she followed her out of the pub.

She found Clarisse two pubs, and a hag who'd seriously thought accosting a Black was a smart idea, later. Unlike those in Knockturn the Diagon pubs were brighter, more cheerful and more crowded. They also had more working girls. Clarisse was sitting on a bench at a table in a corner, with her back to the wall, watching the goings on in the pub with what looked like a pint of Guinness sitting on the table in front of her.

Narcissa had forgotten just how big the woman was. Not fat but tall, and big boned, she towered a full head over herself. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a loose bun, with streaks of gray at the temples giving her a dignified air. She'd have to say the woman was handsome, if that word applied to a woman, and not pretty, but she wasn't hard to look at. Her robes were above average, not quite up to the quality Narcissa herself wore, but still very nice.

She didn't know what Clarisse did, nobody she'd ever asked did, but she did it very well. She didn't work the alleys, nobody had ever seen her with a man, or a woman for that fact, she didn't control any girls, or allow pimps to either, and she didn't protect the girls. What she did do was enforce the rules or rather, THE RULES. Narcissa always thought if the rules were ever written down in a book the title would be just like that, big, bold letters. Nobody knew where the rules came from, though she was inclined to think Clarisse herself had come up with them for whatever arcane reason of her own, or why she enforced them. As far as anybody could tell she didn't work for anybody so why she did what she did was anybody's guess.

But enforce them she did, as Narcissa had found out on her first desperate night of trying to sell herself for food and room rent money after having spent three hungry days cowering in the alleys at night trying to avoid the attention of the denizens of the dark who lurked there. The confrontation had taken place in one of the better pubs when the big woman had seemed to suddenly appear in front of her and proceed to tell her that first timers didn't start at the more upscale establishments where quality was expected, but in Knockturn's lowest dives until they learned the trade or left. The handle end of her wand had slammed into Narcissa's solar plexus before her own wand had even cleared its holster as she intended to show Clarisse no one told her what she could and couldn't do. Her lungs had seemed to forget how to work as Clarisse had gently guided her to a darkened booth and waited for her to catch her breath before calmly telling her the rules.

Clarisse's eyes followed her as she slipped into the chair across the table from her, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. She dipped her head in greeting. "Lady Malfoy, a pleasure to meet you again."

A small smile of her own turned the corners of her lips up as she pondered on the other woman. Even when she'd been nothing but the wife of a disgraced, broke and broken lord Clarisse had always been polite to her. It hadn't been out of respect or to curry favor for some future that might never come, it was just the way she was - polite.

She dipped her own head. "It's nice to see you as well Clarisse."

"It's always nice to see one of our ladies have the good fortune to be able to leave our profession behind." Her smile turned into a hinted at smirk. "Or at least move into one of its more genteel, refined incarnations."

Narcissa had to laugh at the woman's words, remembering Harry's definition of her current position.

"What can I do for you, Lady?"

"First, call me Narcissa. It is, after all, my name."

A small nod and smile. "It is much nicer to set aside the formalities. And second?"

She reached across the table and set a pouch down next to the pint. "Payment for a debt I feel I owe." She explained.

Clarisse's left eyebrow rose. "And what debt might that be?"

"Your words kept me out of the brothels."

"It's nice to see when somebody listens to good advice."

It had been good advice. Located at the far end of Diagon was another small alley, lined with brothels. Like everything else there were some good ones and some bad ones and those in between but what they all had in common were the extended years of service they had in the contracts to work there and the conditions under which the girls worked. Some would allow girls to specialize in the acts they would do while others would force them to do as they were told. Time could be two years – or ten. It was also common for the house to take a large – a very large – percentage of the money they earned, for their room and… incidentals. It amounted to virtual slavery, but the houses could all say each and every girl had signed freely and not be lying. But when the choice was sometimes that of a bed and roof over their head or sleeping in the streets and starving, how freely was it? Especially if they were given no time to read it.

Clarisse warned every new girl of the houses, told them it was best if they worked the pubs or even the alleys, told them why, but still some chose them. Upon hearing the tales and confirming them with some of the more experienced women Narcissa had vowed to starve to death before she did that.

"There are a thousand galleons in there." Narcissa told the other woman. "Five hundred are for you."

The pint came up to her lips as Clarisse regarded her. A sip and it returned to the table. "I need no compensation for a mere warning when it's your choice whether to heed it or not."

"Nobody else ever said a word to me, about anything. Had I signed with them without knowing what I was signing, my current position would have been impossible." Narcissa replied, holding her gaze. "I prefer my current one and I thank you for that."

Clarisse continued her gaze a few moments and then nodded. "And the other five?"

"There are two purposes to that." She said. "If you are willing."

Clarisse gave her a searching look. "Go on."

"First, I would like it to be a revolving loan fund. If someone has a bad stretch of poor nights, or an illness or any reason why they would be short of money, they can come to you for a few days' worth of coin to tide them over with the full understanding it will be paid back. No interest, just pay back what you borrow. Anyone new who is having trouble, if it keeps them out of the houses, well and good. If a few galleons will get them out of here and to a place where they won't have to sell themselves to survive, even better. I wouldn't expect repayment for that."

"And you think I would be willing to do this for you?" Asked Clarisse. "I normally don't interfere in peoples' lives."

"Nobody I've talked to knows why you do any of the things you do, or don't do." Narcissa replied. "Asking costs nothing and if you say no, I'm no worse off than when I started."

She heard a chuckle. "True. Alright, I can do that. What is the second thing?"

This was the thing Narcissa wasn't sure about. "In my time here I learned a most interesting fact: a man will tell things to a woman he's just had sex with that you couldn't force out of him with the torture curse otherwise, even if she's a total stranger." She was surprised to see Clarisse nod and smile knowingly. "I would be willing to pay for those spoken words."

Narrowed eyes regarded her, making her wonder if she was encroaching on something the other woman didn't want encroached on. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Knowledge is power. Lord Potter has enemies, or will have in the future, and so do I. Now that I'm with him his enemies will be mine and mine, his. If something happens to him my position is gone, and I've already said I rather like it and would like to keep it. I would like to do as much as I can to insure nothing does happen to him." She leaned back in her seat. "I learned more in one year here about some families than in the previous twenty. This particular goose lays very big fat golden eggs and I would prefer it have a very long life."

She hoped her apparent self-interest would lead Clarisse to the conclusion she wanted her to reach: the information would be used selfishly in Narcissa's protection of her own welfare. Given her life previously where that would have definitely been the case and anyone who knew her would know that, it should keep people from asking whether she would share it with Harry.

If the mysterious Clarisse would collect it for her. She again wondered if she hadn't stumbled upon the reason why the woman did what she did. But that raised the question of 'why'? What would she do with information like that? Or did she collect it for someone else and if so, who and again, why?

She put the questions aside until later as she sat under Clarisse's steady gaze. She remained impassive as she returned it. If nothing else, being in the presence of the most powerful, and dangerous, dark lord in several hundred years had given her an immense amount of experience in maintaining her composure under intense scrutiny.

Three times the glass rose, with long periods between, before the woman spoke. "If I should agree to … collect … this information from anyone who may wish to pass it on, how do you know you can trust me?"

Smiling, Narcissa replied, "I don't."

That left eyebrow quirked again. "Then why me?"

"You're fair." She answered. "You treat everyone the same way and I've never heard anyone say you play favorites. If you agree to do this, I'm sure I can depend on you to do what you agree to."

A wry smile twisted the left side of the woman's face as she raised her glass in salute. "Agreed then, but what happens when the money runs out?"

"I'll give you more." Standing up Narcissa prepared to leave. "I'll say goodbye now and also that it was a much more pleasant conversation than the first time." She raised her hand and placed it just below her breastbone.

Clarisse chuckled. "Yes, I'm told that does tend to hurt. Have a pleasant evening, Narcissa Malfoy."

As she turned and started to walk away Clarisse spoke up again. "Forgive me, Narcissa, but I have something to ask of you and I suddenly realized now would be a most excellent time."

Turning around she stepped back up to the table, curious as to what the other woman might want. "And what might that be?"

"I would take it as a personal favor, a very large favor, if you could impress upon Lord Potter-Black, in his capacity as Head of House Black, to search through any paperwork he might have for anything to do with the Scarlet Woman."

Narcissa gazed at her for a few moments. "If he did, and he found anything, what would you expect him to do?" She asked.

"I don't know, actually." Was the slightly puzzled sounding reply before the woman cocked her head and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "We would just have to see, wouldn't we?"

Gazing at her for a few more moments in contemplation, she finally dipped her head with a small smile of her own, turned and left.

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

He slipped through the castle with people totally unaware of his presence. He stepped out of the way of students and the occasional teacher so as to not have them run into an invisible body. He smiled to himself, thinking how he'd come full circle: he'd received and used his father's invisibility cloak here, left and used it elsewhere, and had now returned to skulk about the very castle where some of his most dangerous adventures had taken place.

Just around the corner from the Gryffindor common room he removed the cloak and then stepped around to confront the Fat Lady.

"Why, Mister Potter, how nice to see you again." she said, acknowledging his presence. "A bit of a late hour though and you must know I can't let you in."

He smiled. "I don't need in here; I would merely like to request you to notify the Headmistress I'm headed to her office and would like a bit of her time."

"Really, Mister Potter?" She huffed. "There are more normal hours and procedures for visiting you know."

"Yes, I know, but I would like this meeting to never to have taken place, if you know what I mean. I promise you; I only have the best interest of the school in mind, I just don't want some people knowing what I'm doing until later."

She contemplated that for a long moment. "Alright, Mister Potter, I'll let her know. You can put your cloak back on and head on up to her office." At his surprised look she chuckled. "Really, Mister Potter, did you actually think we portraits didn't know about your cloak? We knew about it when your father had it and we knew that first Christmas when Dumbledore gave it to you. So, hurry along and I'll let Minerva know you're coming."

Harry shook his head with a smile as he covered up again and made his way up to the headmistress' office. When he reached the stone gargoyle, he removed the cloak and said, "She's expecting me." It moved to the right and let him up the stairs.

As he stepped into her office, she looked at him from behind her desk with a smile. "Well, Lord Potter-Black, this is a most unexpected surprise. Especially at this time of night."

He smiled back at her. "A pleasant one, I hope. And it's Harry if you don't mind, Professor."

She chuckled. "Harry it is then. And since we are far beyond you being one of my students, not to mention one of my favorites, please, call me Minerva, but if you try Minnie I promise I'll hex you something fierce." She motioned to a seat in front of her desk, a much more comfortable looking one than those Dumbledore had kept there for visitors. "Now why don't you tell me what all of this hush-hush secrecy business is all about and why it has to be that way?"

"Well, as to why, I would really like for people not to know what I'm up to just yet. As to what it is…." He leaned over the desk and placed a key on it in front of her before sitting back in his chair.

"And what might that be?" She asked, looking at it.

"Exactly what it looks like," he grinned, "a Gringotts vault key, one with your name attached to it and a vault with one million galleons in it."

She froze in her seat, eyes wide and mouth open in shock before she gave herself a little shake and her face hardened. "Mister Potter. I cannot accept such a thing nor will I use any of that money so just take it back."

Harry gave her a sly grin. "Minerva, you can accept it and you will use the money in that vault and that is final."

"And just what makes you so sure of that?" she asked hotly.

"Because while it is your money to use in any way you see fit, it is more of a discretionary fund for Hogwarts than anything else." He saw her wondering look. "I've seen the school, Minerva. Over five years and you still have parts that haven't been rebuilt. There are no stands for the Quidditch pitch, and the locker rooms are no more than sheds. Some competent professors, classroom equipment, doors, windows, railings, books, all ruined or missing and the Governors are no closer to giving you the money you need to make things right than they were right after the battle."

She straightened her back as she looked at him. "And how do you know that?"

"Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones are both on the Board of Governors and are so frustrated they're ready to start killing people if that's what it takes to free up the money and get your budget up to where it needs to be."

He reached forward and tapped the key. "This money will give you the means to fix a lot of that and when it's gone, I'll replace it. Neville and Susan are trying to get me on the Board but it's going to take a while. Until then, and probably later, the school needs this money Minerva and you know it."

She looked at him for a few moments, her expression blank. Then her eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, Mister Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone I meet think I'm up to something?"

"Contrary to what a lot of people thought at the time I know you fought tooth and nail to stay out of the limelight during your days within this castle, Harry. Now, after a long disappearance and at the most prestigious social event of the year, you reappear, with Narcissa Malfoy on your arm no less! You take your seats in the Wizengamot, attend half a dozen dinner parties, give half a dozen more, make yourself the center of over a dozen of Rita Skeeter's articles and now you drop a million galleons in my lap and say it's for the school. Remembering many of your exploits in this very school, I would have to say you're up to something. I would very much like to know what it is before I get run over by it as I did several times in the past."

Harry sighed. "Minerva, you were Hermione's favorite teacher. In a way, I think she loved you, but she could never quite forgive you for the one big lie you told us on our first night here." At her confused look he explained. "Well, not a lie to many of the students, the purebloods, but definitely to her. You said with a Hogwarts education we could be anything we wanted in the magical world, even Minister of Magic. To her, a first-generation witch, that was a total lie. You knew that at the time yet still you said it. There was too much bigotry, prejudice, and discrimination against people like her, and me though my circumstances are different than most half-bloods, for that to ever happen."

She sat stiffly in her chair, guilt and remorse heavy on her face. "Yes, Harry, I did lie." She said tiredly. "But I always hoped there would be someone who would grow up to make it right, to make people see it was wrong for things to be that way; for someone to do what I couldn't and make what I was saying the truth for everyone."

"That's a pile of dragon shite and you know it."

She stared at him in shock at the anger tinged words he'd just spoken but he went on before she could say anything. "You did nothing to stop Dumbledore's policies in this school. House rivalries would have been fine if they had been confined to sports or academics. They would have helped forge teams, to give everyone a sense of belonging to a group, giving them goals to better themselves, to push them beyond what they thought their limits were. Instead they became wedges, a way of saying 'because you're not in our house we're better than you. We're the best and you'll never measure up and there's nothing you can do about it'. Dumbledore's policy of 'don't punish them it will just drive them to the dark' was complete and utter nonsense. They are children, they need limits and they need to know what those limits are and that there are sometimes painful consequences if they exceed them. If a child does something wrong and is not punished in some way but is rewarded, it's like you're telling them it's all right to do it, so they do it again. The more they do it without punishment the more ingrained it becomes until by the time they become adults they know it's all right to do it and will defy you if you try to stop them. Worse, you would punish the victims, or allow them to be punished if they tried to defend themselves, essentially telling them they had to accept the abuse. Kick a dog often enough when it barks and eventually it will stop barking, Professor. That's what you didn't do: you didn't make the abusers stop and you didn't defend the abused. It was like that under Dumbledore for almost three generations, with almost all the children of the rich, important and politically connected families. Is it any wonder magical society is so screwed up?"

He took a deep breath to calm himself a bit before speaking again. "You wanted someone to grow up and make things right, Professor? Well, he's sitting right in front of you but he's not going to do it alone and it's going to hurt, maybe a lot. That's what I'm up to, Professor."

She stared at him with wide eyes, shocked at the way he had spoken to her, but he saw her shake herself and when she spoke it was to say "Just what do you expect me to do, Mister Potter? I have already instituted changes to the way points are deducted and detentions are given. I've also forbidden bullying and the use of certain words and stringently enforce that rule."

"Yes, I know." He replied. "I've asked around and your punishments are much fairer now. Slytherin no longer runs roughshod over the other houses and there's no overt favoritism from any of the professors I've been able to see."

She cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment at his statement. He shrugged. "I've talked to current students and recent graduates." He explained his source of information. "However, there is still a class social structure in place, purebloods on top, first generations on the bottom, though you are also fighting that perception with some of your punishments."

"We can only do so much so fast Harry." The Headmistress explained.

He nodded his agreement. "I know that but there's room for improvement. I was thinking along the lines of loss of privileges, say missing a Hogsmeade weekend or suspension from a Quidditch team for a length of time appropriate to the offense. Doing lines or scrubbing cauldrons is tedious and boring but once it's over it's done. Missing something personal however really drives home a point."

He saw she was considering his idea, so he went on. "But I would also like you to consider making some serious changes to the curriculum as well."

"What sort of changes, Harry?" Minerva asked. "There's only so much I can do in that area you know."

"First, hire a new Muggle Studies professor. You're on your second in five years and that class is still nowhere near being anything like reality. You have got to get someone who really knows what it's like in the Mundane world so they can show those magicals who look down upon them what that world is really like, because if you don't it's going to be a very rude shock to them when that world finally discovers us."

"Harry, you're sounding like you think that could happen any day now." She said it as if she didn't believe that at all, but then she saw the serious look Harry was giving her. "You really do believe that don't you Harry?"

"Ask Narcissa Malfoy that question." He replied. "See what she has to say about the mundane world."

"Why, what would she know about the muggle world?" She scanned his face, saw the determination there. "Harry? What did you do with her? She's one of the last people I would expect to have anything to do with muggles." Her brow suddenly knit together as she thought of something. "The pictures of her at the ball, she was wearing a muggle dress. Harry, what did you do to her?"

He heard the worry in her voice, worry that he might have forced Narcissa to do something, used the Imperious on her perhaps. "I didn't do anything to her, Professor, except take her on vacation to the continent for a month."

"Don't give me that, young man." She said with a touch of anger. "I've known Narcissa Malfoy since she was a Black and eleven years old. She is as big an outspoken pureblood bigot as anyone you can name. She wouldn't willingly go muggle if her life depended on it."

The corner of Harry's mouth turned up in a little smile. "After I arranged for her to be brought to me from Knockturn alley I made a deal with her: in return for teaching me how to be a Lord and everything that implies, I'd pay her a salary and take her to Europe for a vacation and shopping trip. I only made one condition: she'd leave her wand at home." OK, he thought as he saw her eyebrows arch high into her forehead, not quite the whole truth but none of it's a lie. "She was, as you pointed out, very unwilling to do so but she finally agreed to do it after my assurances that I wouldn't let anything happen to her while she was without it. I took her sightseeing, shopping, on a long boat ride through the Mediterranean and gambling in Monte Carlo. We went swimming on muggle beaches and eating in muggle restaurants. We stayed in muggle hotels and drove muggle cars. We spent several pleasant days driving from southern France in an open topped car and staying in little village inns and bed and breakfast homes and taking in the sights of the country on our way to Paris. We went to muggle museums and muggle landmarks, to muggle shows and scenic spots. We flew in muggle airplanes and rode on muggle trains under the English Channel. And after a month of fun and games in the sun she realized that not once had she needed her wand. She almost had a nervous breakdown because she realized they could do a lot of everything we could do. Some of it not as fast and some of it not quite as efficient, but most of it just as well. Some of it is even better."

The look of shock and surprise on Minerva's face would have been amusing if the subject hadn't been so serious. "That's not possible!" She blurted out, trying to deny what she was hearing. "I know the class is outdated but it can't be that bad!" She pushed her chair back, stood up and began pacing back and forth.

He hated to burst her bubble, but it had to be done. "Minerva, I know you've gone into the muggle world, you've seen the streetlights, the cars, the electric lights in the muggle homes you visit. You have to have seen airplanes in the sky as they fly overhead. You know they're more advanced than what most pureblood witches or wizards believe. But they're more advanced than even what you believe. It used to be change in that world took a long time. What was now might stay that way for decades before something better came along. That's not true anymore. Now something might change every one or two years and it's better, faster, and more efficient. People my age may not even recognize something their parents took for granted. And that doesn't even count the military."

She froze in her pacing as her head snapped around to gaze at him. He nodded at her. "She went beyond what she had seen; all the wonders and marvels that at one time had been the sole property of witches and wizards and straight to what she feared. Her first question when I found her sitting huddled in the dark was 'how bad can they hurt us?'"

He saw the fear in her eyes as she contemplated that very question. "What did you tell her?"

"Minerva, do you know what happened when Europeans first went to the Americas? To the native peoples?"

"They were destroyed." She whispered fearfully.

He nodded. "Disease wiped out thousands, hundreds of thousands maybe, destroying entire peoples. We don't have to worry about that but that set the stage for later colonization. The native peoples who survived saw their cultures overrun and destroyed. They had no defense against the technologically advanced Europeans. Five hundred Spaniards conquered the entire empire of the Aztecs in less than two years with just three advantages: they had horses which gave them mobility, steel armor which gave them protection and guns which gave them overwhelming force. Today's military is so much better than that there is no comparison. They have ways of finding us that wizards can't even understand much less defeat. A conjured shield will not stop a bullet and a man with a machine gun can fight multiple wizards at once. The sheer numbers can tell the story: the British military alone has more members than there are magical beings in the entire country. But they won't need the military to defeat us."

Minerva slumped back into her chair with a look of confusion. "How then?" She asked before her eyes widened. "Oh Merlin, the Queen!" She looked at him with sudden realization. "She still has total power over the Ministry. But would she?"

Harry snorted. "The way things are now? In a heartbeat. She wouldn't have any choice. The law of the land doesn't allow for the bigotry and discrimination that routinely goes on in the magical world, that is enforced in the laws of this world. She'd either kick all of the current occupants out of the Ministry and put in her own appointees or abolish it totally and roll the entire population under the muggle government and under that arrangement Lords have no powers at all. The titles still exist but all the perks have been taken away from them. They even did away with the House of Lords in Parliament."

"But don't you see, Professor? When they find us, and they will, the wizarding world will not be able to withstand the cultural press of the mundane world. It's just too big, too advanced and we will be forced to obey the laws of the land, the laws that many of our laws in place at this time directly contradict. If the wizarding world is going to survive it has to adapt, to change and be ready to meet the mundanes as equals and unless they know what's out there they'll never be ready to do that as long as one group is ready to intimidate, discriminate against and lord over all the rest simply because they're in power and they want to keep it that way."

She looked at him for long moments until she sagged into her chair with an air of defeat. "How long do we have Harry?"

He shrugged. "You said it: maybe tomorrow, maybe not for years; hopefully the latter because we need time to change attitudes and perceptions of people, which is why I would like to update the program by September first. We have to make them understand what they're facing."

"We'll have to get the Governors to make the class a required subject for anybody of magical parents." Minerva said, looking at him. "But who am I going to get to teach it?"

Harry smiled and pulled an envelope out of an inner pocket. "Jonathon Winters, a first-generation wizard who went muggle because he couldn't get a job doing what he wanted in the magical world. He's a fully accredited Professor of history at Cambridge and would love to work at Hogwarts. He knows he'd have to start the entire course from scratch, but he's got the basics already and would just have to tailor it to the ignorant pureblood and half-blood population."

She looked at the envelope on the desk. "You've been planning this for quite a while, haven't you Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Muggle studies aren't the only thing I want to change, Minerva. I want an entirely new class started here; one geared to the first-generation kids who know nothing about the new world they find themselves in. The Purebloods don't like the first-generation kids because they don't know the society, why the way things are done the way they are. They want to change things the Purebloods don't want changed. They look at them as savages."

"But they don't teach them anything about it. They leave it to the first gens to learn on their own and then hold it against them when they don't not realizing the first gens don't because nobody tells them. They need to know however, because the magical world has a rich history and traditions and the Purebloods need to realize the first gens are their first best hope if and when the non-magical world finally finds us. Both sides need to help the other or what is the magical world now won't be after it's discovered."

She cocked her eyebrow at him again. "That would take several years to get approval for and to get started, even with the money you've made available."

Another envelope came out of the inner pocket, plopped down on the desk. "Catherine Wentworth, an expert in the social history of English magical traditions and customs. Her parents went to the continent at the start of Riddles first little war when it was apparent they'd be on his hit list because of their blood status and political views. She attended Beauxbatons and graduated with honors and just two years ago she published a book about English tradition and laws titled "A Guide to English Snobbery or Why They're so Stuck Up." He grinned. "It's been on the French best seller list for six months."

This time it was the corner of Minerva's mouth that curled up. "Is it even necessary, Harry, if you think the muggles could discover us at any time?"

"Minerva, you know as well as I do the thing people are most resistant to is change and even with the technological advantage the muggles have over us it will still be easy to hide from them as individuals. People won't want to deal with such an upheaval in their lives, so they won't. They'll continue to live the way they've always lived. It will be the children who will most easily integrate but as long lived as we are the older generation will be around for decades resisting the changes they don't want to deal with and they'll be the ones with the power and in charge of everything and they'll fight to keep it that way. That's why it's important the first-generation kids know the rules and laws and traditions the older generation will try so stubbornly to keep in place. We need that class and as for getting permission I have found the old saying 'it's easier to beg forgiveness than it is to seek permission' seems to work pretty well."

The Headmistress laughed lightly. "Yes, Harry, it does. Alright, I'll get in touch with your professors and make arrangements. Now, is there anything else you want to ruin my evening with?"

He gave her a smirk. "I'm only just getting started." He told her.

She smiled wryly back at him. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"We need to think about starting new courses geared towards non-magical subjects, science, world history, world social studies, and extracurricular activities such as sports and the arts. The world is a lot smaller place than it used to be and once it becomes aware of the magical one magicals are going to need to be aware of all of the differences."

She sighed. "Things like that will take much more planning before we can begin them." She eyed him warily. "Anything else?"

He grinned at her. "It might be good news. You might start having a higher attendance in the coming years." Her eyebrow rose questioningly again. "Emma Granger, Hermione's mother, has started a new loan fund at Gringotts. It's strictly for school with a much lower interest rate than what the goblins ask for. It's called the Phoenix Fund and she hopes that those people who can't afford to send their children to Hogwarts will now be able to. It's especially for first generation kids but poorer magical families will be able to use it as well. The money will be able to allow them to attend the hedge academies around the country as well however, so we'll have to see what happens."

While everybody thought of Hogwarts when magical education was mentioned not everyone could afford to send their children to what essentially was a more expensive upper-class boarding school. To make up for those who couldn't there were the hedge academies, smaller schools that allowed students to at least reach their O.W.L.s. Being cheaper they lacked many of the amenities of Hogwarts, had many professors who weren't even masters and NEWT level classes were out of the question. They did however fill a need.

"That would certainly be a help." McGonagall stated as she considered what he had said. "However, if attendance does rise, we'll either have to limit the number of students we can accept or increase the number of professors."

"Minerva, you know as well as I do Hogwarts used to house at least twice the number of students it does now. Just the number of empty classrooms will tell you that. As for hiring new teachers I've already taken care of that: I'll refill that vault when it's empty."

"And just how am I supposed to explain where all this extra money is coming from when somebody of importance asks?" She inquired.

He shrugged. "Tell them it's an anonymous wealthy alumna who is upset that repairs haven't been made and wishes the school returned to its former glory." He grinned. "That's close enough to the truth to stand up to any hard questioning."

She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Harry."

He smirked back at her. "Don't thank me yet." He told her.

She frowned at him with a sigh. "Now what are you up to Mister Potter?"

"I'm going to be visiting all of those other schools, Minerva, and offering them money as well. It will be for infrastructure as well, materials, buildings, better teacher pay, but also to upgrade their courses as well. It does no good trying to change attitudes here at Hogwarts if they stay the same at other places.

"I also thought about upgrading the Quidditch program."

Her eyes went up on that. Quidditch was one thing she was very serious about and anything that would interfere with it was going to be argued against quite vehemently. "In what way?" she asked warily.

"The Americans have what they call a varsity system. The varsity team is composed of the better upperclassmen, while the junior varsity team is made up of lower year students." He explained. "The junior team is where you can train the younger kids, see what they're good at and give them a chance to play without all the pressure of playing for the Cup. It also gives more kids a chance to play and form a reserve the varsity team can pull from in case of a loss of a player for whatever reason."

He could tell by her expression she was considering his suggestion. "I'd also like to see an intramural league formed with Hogwarts and the other schools. Each school could field a school team and have a rotating system of home and away games for a league trophy. It would also help with school unity."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "How so, Harry?"

He grinned. "You told us Hogwarts would be our family. I once heard a saying that family members will fight one another until an outsider butts in then it's a unified front against the intruder."

Her grin matched his own. "That is very true, Harry, very true indeed." She chuckled. "It would do my heart good to see Slytherin alongside Gryffindor in such a contest. However, something like that would take several years to arrange, even if it were to be approved."

Harry shrugged. "Hogwarts is a thousand years old, what's two or three more?"

Again, she chuckled. "Indeed."

"There's something else I'd like you to consider." He said as she quieted. "In regards to the other schools, I would also like to offer scholarships to those students who do well, such as meeting a minimum standard, to come here to Hogwarts for their last two years and earn their NEWTs if we can work out the procedures for such a thing to happen."

She stared at him in surprise for a few moments pondering the idea of such a thing. "Well, that certainly is a novel idea." She finally said. "I don't see why we couldn't make such a thing work, but it would take much consideration and planning before we could do that." She gazed off into a distance only she could see, her finger slowly tapping the side of her nose as she thought. "Yes, certainly some problems, but there should be solutions." She muttered to herself.

Smiling to himself, Harry stood up. His movement immediately caught Minerva's eye. "Leaving already Harry?" She inquired with a smile. "Walk in, bollix up my entire life and then walk back out, just like that?"

He laughed. "Isn't that what I've done since first year?"

She shook her head with a wry smile. "That you most certainly have, Mister Potter, that you most certainly have. When might I expect to see you again?"

"We're having a small get together Thursday night with the Longbottoms, Sue Bones and George Weasley. I'm sure they'd all love to see you. If I know her Luna Lovegood will probably show up as well. It would also be a good time to talk with Narcissa."

"I would like that very much. Thank you, Harry."

He stood in the open door. "By the way, Minerva, about that key. To help hide the existence of that vault from anyone who might try to find out just where the money is coming from, if they ask about any vaults with your name on them all they'll get is the one you have now. To get anything out of your new one you have to say you're Minnie Gonall."

He laughed at the expression on her face and stepped out the door as a sharp SNAP of a hex cracked against the other side of it.

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

He saw her glide through the stall door as he stepped into the second-floor girls' bathroom. "Harry!" The ghost exclaimed happily.

"Hi, Myrtle! Care for a little visit?"