Kailor: Ahem, I apologize. There was a rather graphic scene at the beginning of this. I didn't place a warning and perhaps went a bit far with it. So I am reposting this chapter with it fixed. I'll keep it more PG in the future. Again, I'm sorry to those of you that were offended.

Callum Gilroy watched his daughter clamber to her feet for the fourth time that day. "That's enough for today, lass. Your mother will have my hide if she comes home and you're covered in cuts and bruises."

But Kenna shook her blonde curls, her stubborn little chin jutting out. She gripped the handlebars of her bike and pulled it upright, walking it back to their starting point. "Once more."

Callum smiled, his heart swelling as he watched his babygirl swing her short leg over the bike a fifth time. Her foot fumbled about for a second, trying to find the pedal. He moved behind her and grasped the bottom of the seat, holding it steady as she balanced herself. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Right. I'll let go when you tell me to, okay? Here goes." Kenna pedalled. Callum pushed, holding the bike straight. Her little knuckles turned white as she clutched the grips, determined to get it right. They reached a speed where Callum was jogging to keep up, one hand held out to catch her if she fell.

Kenna's small voiced squeaked out, "You can let go now, Daddy!"

And he did, falling into a trot as she pedalled away. The wheels wobbled for a second, and his stomach twisted. Then they straightened up and continued down the sidewalk, past one neighbor's house, then two. Kenna's laughter floated back to him, mingled with his own as he applauded and cheered her on. At the third house away, she turned the bike into the grass and put her heels down to stumble to a halt, hopping off and letting it drop. She turned the biggest, missing-tooth, smile on Callum and ran back the way she'd come.

He met her halfway, sweeping her up into a hug. Her pink ballet shoes, the ones she'd refused to take off since the day she'd gotten them, kicked in midair as they spun around, both cheering.

After two more successful rides, they walked the bike back home.

Lindsey had beat them home. She was putting away the groceries she'd bought when Kenna raced into the kitchen, her ballet shoes tapping across the tile floor, and launched herself into her mother's arms. "I did it! I rode my bike!"

"You did?" Lindsey gasped, hugging her tighter. "Oh, I'm so proud of you, honey! I knew you could do it!"

Callum stood in the doorway, contently watching as Kenna described every ride with great detail. Then she declared that she was going get ready for bed and shot up the stairs with energy only a five-year old could possess.

Lindsey moved to Callum and wrapped her arms around his neck. "See? If you'd stuck with that job at the lawyer's office, you wouldn't have been here tonight. And she would still be out there, scraping up her knees and elbows like the stubborn child she is."

"You're right," Callum admitted. "My dad wasn't there the first time I rode a bike. I'm glad I was there for Kenna."

He was rewarded with a kiss. "Though next time our daughter hits a milestone in her life, you better make sure I'm there, mister!"

"She insisted! I tried to make her wait for you!"

"Not very hard, obviously!"

Callum grinned. "Okay, maybe not. But when she has her first 'time of the month' it'll be all you."

"Wow, that's special. Thanks a million."

They stopped laughing as the doorbell rang through the house. Callum frowned. "Were you expecting anyone?"

Lindsey shook her head, her blonde curls swinging just like Kenna's. Callum let her go and crossed the living room, pulling the door open. A man with black hair and even darker eyes was standing on the porch. He wore strange robes with a cloak and was holding a stick. Callum's first instinct was to shut the door, but he settled for leaning against the back of it, only his head peering around it. "Can I help you?"

"Certainly. You see, I require your house."

"What are you-"

The man pointed the stick at him and Callum winced as green light filled his vision.

XXXXXXX

The next months passed so quickly, Harry was a little surprised when he walked out of his last exam and was suddenly looking at a week of school with no classes, no homework, and no responsibilities until their exam results came out. When their History of Magic exam ended, Harry and Ven led the Pack down to the lake. June had been particularly rainy, but the ground was finally dry and the girls were able to stretch out blankets by the trees. The boys, and Ven, were a little ways away, having a jousting tournament.

Ron had just climbed up onto his pedestal to face off against Ven. The Weasley twins quickly tried to wrack up bets that Ron would win. No one rose to the bait, because Ven was the undefeated champion. She twirled her staff, grinning evilly.

"Ready, Ronald?"

"Hell no," Ron shook his head. "I'm still recovering from the last time we did this. Shouldn't we be practicing dueling with wands instead?"

"You want to face me with a wand?"

Ron paled. "Uh, no. Not what I meant. But we're wizards. This is a muggle game. Malfoy threatened to duel me last week. I wouldn't be much of a fight with this stick." He palmed the staff, his nose wrinkled up.

"Well, that's true," Harry said. "You barely beat Neville last time you faced him and he usually slips off all on his own."

Neville shrugged. "That wooden post can't handle my skills is all."

"How about this?" Ven motioned to Fred. "Give Ron his wand. I'll keep this stick. And we'll see who wins."

Ron frowned, but accepted the wand Fred threw him. "This won't even be fair. I'll feel bad when I beat you."

Her hand flew to her heart. "My noble knight. I'll remember that when I'm treading water." She twirled her staff in a lazy circle. "Ready when you are."

Ron grimaced, but raised his wand. He opened his mouth to cast a stinging hex-and was suddenly staring at his empty hand while his feet were swept out from under him.

The water swallowed him with a loud splash and the rest of the boys cheered on the bank. When he spluttered to the surface, gasping for air, Ven poked him with her staff. "A wand's not much use if you're out of the duel before you can cast anything. Muggle game or not, it's a useful skill."

The youngest Weasley waded to shore, collecting his wand from the shallows.

Harry clapped Neville on the back. "You're up. Nev against Ven."

Neville whimpered, but took up the other staff and made his way out to the posts.

XXXXXXX

Hermione was laughing at Padma's impression of Professor Binns.

"And so," Padma drawled in a monotone, slightly low-pitched voice. "After the Goblin Rebellion of 1437, I died and began my life's goal of boring generations of students to tears." At this point, Padma could no longer keep a straight face and snorted, dropping to the grass beside Hermione.

Her twin, Parvati, had joined them today with her best friend, Lavender Brown. Parvati was cracking up. "Oh, come on, Pad. You know Binns is your dream man."

Padma tapped her chin, like she was seriously considering it. "I'll keep him in mind. But he's not really my type."

"Oh?" Hermione giggled. "So what's your type, Miss Patil?"

"Female."

Hermione laughed, until she realized Padma and Parvati weren't joining in. "Wait, seriously? You, Padma?"

Padma nodded, smiling a little at the surprise on her friend's face.

"How come you never told me before?" Hermione felt this was a large part of her friend's life that had been skipped over.

"You never asked," Padma shrugged.

"So what's your type of girl?" Lavender asked, eager for some juicy gossip. She threw a quick glance to where the boys and Ven were. "Any secret feelings for a certain strawberry blonde with a dashing scar?"

The young Ravenclaw laughed. "Ven's great, but we're just friends."

"I guess that's good then," Lavender said. "After all, she's got a crush on Penny, doesn't she?"

An awkward silence fell over them as Penny shifted uncomfortably under their gazes.

Lavender seemed to realize she'd stepped over a line. "I'm sorry! I was just-"

"It's okay," Penny cut her off. "I just don't see Ven that way and she knows that."

"Well," Lavender said cautiously. "What about you, Penny? I know Percy Weasley's asked you out multiple times."

Penny's sigh was heavy. "Percy...Well, he used to be very different. When we first arrived at Hogwarts, we were friends. Until third year, we were pretty much best friends. But I mentioned one day that I was aiming to be a prefect and he said he would do the same. And like a switch had flipped, he was suddenly different. He became stuck-up, arrogant, bossy. Nothing like he used to be! So I stopped hanging out with him, hoping that would snap him out of it. If anything, it got worse. He seemed to think becoming a prefect would change my mind about not wanting to be friends anymore. Then, when he got his badge last summer, he owled me, all proud and egotistical, asking me out. I never even wrote back." She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I did used to like him. It's actually quite sad. If Percy had a tenth of the personality he once had or that Ven has, I'd have told him yes."

She was stopped from continuing by a loud splash and an uproar of cheering.

Ven was in the water and Neville was still standing, looking nearly as shocked as Hermione felt. The jousting champion had finally fallen, at the hands of the boy that was usually more worried about not hitting himself with the staff.

The Weasley twins were chanting Neville's name and Harry was jumping up and down with Ron, screaming congratulations. Roger was doing an odd little jig with Seamus Finnigan while Dean Thomas applauded loudly. But no one was more excited for Neville than Ven was. "That was brilliant, Nev!" she yelled, splashing water at him. "I got distracted and you took advantage! Brilliant!" The rest of the boys piled into the water and grabbed Neville, yanking him off his post to dunk him for winning. Hermione laughed as she saw Harry leap onto his sister's back, pulling the both of them under the surface. A moment later he reappeared, with Ven's arm around his neck in a chokehold.

"Well, well, well, Hermione," Padma said, wagging her eyebrows. "You seem to like what you see. Describe your perfect man then."

Hermione blushed. Back in Crawley she'd had very few friends and they had never really discussed boys before. "I don't know, really. I guess I'd like him to be handsome."

"Of course," Padma nodded sagely.

"And smart."

"Poor sod would have to be, wouldn't he?"

"Well-read."

"Tell us something we don't know!"

"And," Hermione felt her face grow hotter. "I'd like a man who would clear the floor, then ask me to dance."

Padma was suddenly grinning. "Awww, Hermione! Are you secretly a romantic? Dreaming of a man who can sweep you off your feet and twirl you around a ballroom?" She held her arms out as if she were dancing with an invisible partner and swayed side to side, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Shut up," Hermione laughed, hitting Padma with her schoolbag.

Parvati and Lavender then went into a long list of attributes their future husbands would have. Hermione tuned them out, watching as Neville took on George, and lost spectacularly. On the bank, Harry and Ven were sitting beside each other, facing away from her. Ven's head was bent towards her brother's and Harry was shaking his head and laughing.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione looked up. A pretty little Hufflepuff that Hermione remembered from classes as Susan Bones was standing there. Beside her was another Hufflepuff. After a moment, Hermione named her Hannah Abbot in her head.

"I'm looking for Harry Lachlan. Somebody told me I could find him down here."

Padma pointed down the shore. "He's there. One of the redheads. Good luck."

The two girls hurried away, giggling to each other. Hermione rolled her eyes, suddenly a little aggravated.

XXXXXXX

"Come on, Harry," Ven said. "You'll like it!"

Harry shook his head, laughing. "I am not taking dancing lessons from you over the summer."

"But I'm a brilliant dancer!" Ven gaped at him, mock-offended. "I'm a natural. You're not, but we can fix that. Say you will, brother?"

"Why the sudden interest in me being able to dance?"

Ven shrugged. "Why not?"

"Harry?"

The twins turned, finding two Hufflepuffs standing there. Susan, who had been looking at Ven when she spoke, blushed and switched her gaze to Harry. "Oh, I'm sorry. Harry?"

"Yes," he said, blinking.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you. He's waiting in the entrance hall. And um..." She fidgeted with a folded piece of parchment in her hands. "Could we maybe...could we get your autograph?"

"Why?" Harry asked, clueless.

But Ven, purposely misunderstanding, leapt up and snatched the quill from Hannah Abbot's hand before the girl's could react. "Sure you can!" She signed with a large flourish and slapped the paper back into Susan's hand. "That'll be worth a lot in future, I can tell you now."

Susan, blushing furiously, hurried away with Hannah.

Harry stood, dusting grass off his pants. "Thanks for that."

"No problem. It was really for everyone's own good. Can't have you getting a big head. We all went down there." She winked. "Get going. You've got a meeting with the Headmaster, brother."

Harry paused to tell the girls where he was going, then headed off to the castle.

XXXXXXX

Professor Dumbledore was standing with a tall, square-jawed witch with close-cropped grey hair and dark blue eyes, one of which was covered by a monocle.

"Harry, this is Madam Amelia Bones. She is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Madam Bones held out a somewhat callused hand. Harry took it, shaking it firmly as his father had taught him. The serious looking witch gave a nod of approval. "Mr. Lachlan, I am here to discuss what happened down in that chamber."

"I thought we already did," Harry glanced at Dumbledore. "My da gave a statement, didn't he?"

"He did," Dumbledore confirmed. "However, we have spoken to him again and he feels that you should know the new information we have found. Please, if you'd come with us?" He led them up to the second floor and down a corridor on the left side. He stopped in front of a large stone gargoyle. "Lemon Drops."

The gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside, allowing the three of them to pass. They stepped up onto a stone staircase. Harry had to stop himself from grabbing Madam's Bones' arm when the staircase began to move. It spiralled slowly upwards. He glanced back in time to see the gargoyle settling back in place. The stairs led them up and up until finally ending in front of a thick, oaken door. Dumbledore opened it, letting them inside first.

The room was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat- the Sorting Hat. And sitting in front of the desk were three wizards. One was a bent, older man with a thick, round beard and a bright red fez perched above his wrinkled brow. He was palming a short wooden cane. The other wizards were Lyall and Snape.

"Da!" Harry rushed to hug his father.

"Hey, my boy." Lyall ruffled his hair. Snape gave him a jerky nod.

Dumbledore conjured chairs from midair for Harry and Madam Bones. They sat and Dumbledore rounded the desk to sit in the headmaster's chair. He tented his fingers before him, smiling kindly at the gathered group. "Now, I know you may all be wondering why I've brought you here. Lyall, Severus. Since you two were involved in the fight over the stone, I wanted you to know exactly who it was you fought. Madam Bones, it will be your department taking over the investigation, correct?"

"Of course, Headmaster."

"And Harry..." Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling. "Your father requested you be here. Because you took part in saving the stone, he thought it was your right. He actually wanted all of the children who took part here but I had to put my foot down. I'm sure they'll find out somehow," he coughed softly. "But I would ask them to keep it among themselves only. Do you understand?"

Harry blinked. Was Dumbledore giving him permission to tell his friends, so long as they didn't tell anyone else? "I-I think so," he said.

"Perfect," Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Now, the thing that has brought us all together is this man here." He gestured to the old man in the fez. "Everyone, this is Nicolas Flamel."

Kailor: All the reviews rolling in! Thank you so much, me lovelies! Keep 'em comin'!