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SIYE Time:0:39 on 29th March 2024
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Romancing The Brick
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB, Reconstruction Challenge (2007-5)
Characters:All, All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Humor
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 7
Summary: There are certain cosmic forces in the universe that we will never understand. There are constants that will be true regardless of the reality being experienced. One such is that Harry and Ginny will always be together. Another one is...extremely embarassing for someone we know. Hogwarts is dying and once again Harry is called upon to be the hero, but is the castle all that he will help rebuild?
Hitcount: Story Total: 5059



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





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Romancing The Brick

By Spenser Hemmingway


“The redwood is one of the few conifers that sprout from the stump and roots, and it declares itself willing to begin immediately to repair the damage of the lumberman and also that of the forest-burner.”–John Muir



It was the best of pizzas…it was the worst of pizzas. I ordered a Chicago-style, triple sausage, Canadian bacon, and hot spiced beef with onions, green peppers, sun-dried tomatoes and six types of cheese. It was the pride of Billy-Bob’s Pizza Pit; the best Italian food this side of the nearest all-night convenience store. I ate said pizza…all of it. I thoroughly enjoyed said pizza. After twenty minutes said pizza was doing a job on my system worthy of the Hog’s Head bouncer when I tried to introduce karaoke.

I looked up from my laptop keyboard and noticed that the sun was coming up over my parents’ yard. On the table behind the computer were the remains of two doses of fizzy stomach potion, one last cup of cold coffee, and maybe a tree’s worth of crumpled paper filled with notes for my latest story. I was exhausted, I felt as if I had been run through a commercial-grade kindergarten parents’ night, and I was suffering the worst writer’s block since I shelved Gustav the Christmas Troll.

I had so far dispensed with an idea to have Ron and Harry bowling in a charity event for underprivileged hula dancers; Ginny running off to join the circus as a lion tamer (only to discover that it really wasn’t Neville in a costume roaring back at her); and Hermione being kidnapped by Cossack unicyclists hoping to have her tutor them in Arithmancy. I still hadn’t decided whether or not to have the one girl’s father show up at Dudley Dursley’s doorstep with a shotgun and the local preacher. Sometimes we abused Harry’s cousin a little too much. No, we didn’t.

Enough was sufficiently enough! It was almost time to wake the families for the trip to the reunion on Mount Hood, and I hadn’t even come up with a decent story title yet. If I couldn’t show at least a page for my all-night effort, Mom and Luna were going to cut off my supply of pork rinds and homebrewed jalapeño beer. Fortunately, I keep a notebook with assorted pink bunny rabbit and singing pony situations, so my granddaughter wouldn’t kick me in the shin before breakfast…probably. I just needed to produce a few thousand more words involving less-cute subject matter.

After one more dose of my bubbly lemon-flavored aspirin, I pulled out my parents’ juicer and slipped out the back door to pick some apples. Being early October, a good portion of the tree had already been stripped for pies, strudels, and canning purposes. Even with that said, I knew that with our stepladder and the pole picker I could still retrieve some large juicy ones from near the top. Up I went. Three, four, five…yeah that would be enough for a couple of large glasses of cider, I decided. No, I saw one more big one just…out…of…reach. Oops!

Well there I was floating through the air in slow motion. One moment I was thinking about apples and adventure stories. The next I was trying to decide which would hurt more; hitting the retaining wall to the left or what Mom and Dad’s house-elf would do to me if I landed in his tomato bushes. I compromised and twisted my body to come down on the flagstone sidewalk.

*****


I thought I landed hard. I was a lot closer to fifty than I was to fifteen, and therefore a bit surprised when I didn’t even have the breath knocked out of me. I immediately did a cursory check of my body while lying there. I was wondering which bones were broken, how much blood I had oozing from my ears and whether they still had that same grouchy old nurse in the Oregon City Healer’s office (picture Yosemite Sam in drag–-with the same mustache). The thing was…I was feeling great. There were no aches, pains, protruding tibias, or spattered brain matter on the ground. Oops! I’m sorry…you might be eating right now. Anyway, even my indigestion and sleep deprivation were gone.

The next thing I noticed was that I was spread out on dry grass. My folks don’t have an actual lawn on that side of their house, and if they did it should have been covered in morning dew. It was also fairly warm for October. I slowly risked sitting up, and for someone in a coma, it was far too simple of a task. The sight before me then hit as hard as the ground should have moments before. I was at Hogwarts! The thing was…it wasn’t any Hogwarts I had ever visited.

“Okay Spenser, you’re either dead, unconscious or doing a new interpretation of Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee Fan in King Arthur’s Court.” I really hoped it wasn’t the third option. If I haven’t made myself clear before, I don’t especially love that New York team.

Regardless, there was a scene before me straight from the final pages of Deathly Hallows. The dead and injured had obviously been evacuated already, but the castle was… Well Hogwarts looked as if Godzilla’s missus had taken her enormous rolling pin to it after he blew off their anniversary for poker night with King Kong, Mothra, and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

“And he huffed and he puffed and he…”

No, it wasn’t funny. Over the years I had unfortunately seen and experienced other alternative universes, and I was somewhat sure that, in at least one case, my actions had contributed to the creation of one. There before me these buildings…a good many of them…were collapsed, burning and/or missing significant portions thereof.

I stood and began to walk toward the castle, directing my observations toward various aspects of the structure. In my own universe I had only played a minor supportive role during the final fight, but that battle hadn’t left the school looking anything like this. Harry’s Muggle biographer had painted exactly what I was viewing now in her final book. I don’t know if a way was ever found for her to visit the real Hogwarts but, if she had, it might not have suffered this fate. For the moment however, I was in her world.

“Holy [expletive deleted to avoid offending sensitive sailors]! I think that I’m in trouble again,” I finally said to nobody in particular. Someone heard me though.

“You there…who are you? What are you doing here?” I turned to see a forty-something Kingsley Shacklebolt standing at the school entry with a number of people I assumed to be from the Ministry. Among them was a younger Arthur Weasley. Not surprisingly, none of them seemed to recognize me.

“Hello; I’m sorry that I’m late. The traffic was murder. I almost collided with an invisible zeppelin over New Jersey,” I quickly improvised. “My name is…uhm, Ernest Tracy and I’m…a master construction engineer.”

Hoo boy, was I in trouble with that lie! With my history, Luna wouldn’t even allow me to look at tool catalogues. Ginny once banished me from Harry and her house for two days just for touching the baby’s toy hammer. Word went quickly through the village of Hogsmeade one summer that I had purchased a bag of nails. The angry mob armed with torches and caulking guns chased me all the way home, and only Seamus appearing to explain the nails were for him saved my skin.

Shacklebolt’s threatening glare reverted to a welcoming smile however as he stepped up to introduce himself and shake my hand. I had somehow made the correct guess that, in additional to caring for the other casualties, he was concerned about the largest one of all–-the castle itself.

“I can’t begin to tell you how pleased we are to have you with us so quickly,” Arthur Weasley continued for him. His face was drawn, and I remembered that he had just lost a son in this version. The twins…my world’s that is…had laughed themselves silly at Fred’s passing in the book. They even held a mock wake at their store (coupled with a very successful sales day). This gentleman before me however deserved a strong measure of sympathy, and I was almost astounded at how he was standing there then with the others.

“Mr. Shacklebolt, I think that we should…” I began.

I was interrupted by a small procession of house-elves marching by. Each wore a white apron and chef’s hat, and it wasn’t a stretch to assume that they worked in the school kitchens. Passing us without a word, they walked up to the recently slain giant snake, and began to excitedly study it; one producing a tape measure and two others applying a sharpening steel to their cleavers. If I was still there at suppertime I was going to stick with bread and salad.

“Mortimer, would you please see if you can find Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall and ask them to join us in the teachers’ lounge?” Shacklebolt requested one of his associates.

“I’m sorry sir. My friend Luna and I saw that it had been damaged during the fighting earlier,” a sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley explained, walking up and giving her father a strong hug. I had to consciously restrain myself from asking her if Luna was still all right.

“Perhaps she would allow us the use of the headmasters’ office then. Please tell the professor that it is vitally important.”

“How important?” I asked the man.

“We believe that Hogwarts is dying sir.”

*****


As we walked through the castle my eyes were continually but discretely darting about looking for friends among the survivors. I had come to Hogwarts as an exchange student during my final year of school, and several of the people I met there became like family to me. I was already mentally rehearsing an excuse to slip away and look for some of them…not that they would know me.

Ginny, I saw, was still with her father, clearly concerned for the man, and not wanting to leave him to his work, important as it might be. I had only read Deathly Hallows twice, but I was somewhat certain that Harry and she weren’t back together here yet. It was a testament to her character that she was able to hold up that way without him, and in turn, pass on her own strength to Mr. Weasley at the moment. At the spiral staircase, which had already been lowered, Arthur held up and took her aside.

“My dear, I need you to go stay with your mother now. We have a number of important issues to discuss,” he said. At best, her face revealed apprehension.

“Actually Mr. Weasley, I would really appreciate hearing Ginny’s opinions about repairing the castle,” I told him. “I understand why the Minister here wants to involve Harry in this, but I think that we’re going to want input from several sources before this is over.”

“How do you know my name?” Ginny asked in a hesitant voice.

“How did you know that I was just appointed acting Minister of Magic?” Shacklebolt added.

Oops! I had to be more careful. “I follow youth Quidditch. I saw your daughter’s photograph in American Quidditch Quarterly after her team won the School Cup last year. Mr. Weasley, your children are minor celebrities with those who follow the sport.” Despite the setting, the proud father smiled at that–and it was even true. “Minister, I must have been told about your appointment when your counterpart in the States contacted me about the project here. If he wasn’t supposed to mention it, I’m sorry.” That was probably a valid explanation as well. I just needed to be gone before the real construction engineers arrived.

I couldn’t tell if he accepted it, but before the man could question me further, Harry appeared at the top of the stairwell with Ron and Hermione behind him. I noted that the latter two were holding hands, and I felt a bit irritated that Harry and Ginny weren’t imitating them yet. Instead in his hand he still held the Elder Wand that would soon return to its resting place in Dumbledore’s tomb. Not yet though; a short time ago it had been used to take Voldemort’s life, and now I somehow knew that we would need it to save that of our school.

Pausing there, Harry looked down at our assembled group, and while not a word was spoken, the change in his posture broadcast his understanding. Everyone needed his help again. No one moved, and it was almost as if we were afraid to. This seventeen-year-old had done so much for their Wizarding world…mine as well. He deserved a good rest and to be rescued from the limelight. I saw a ghost of a smile appear though, which puzzled me until I noticed that Ginny and he were looking at each other.

“Ah excellent–-you’re here already,” Professor McGonagall said, announcing her arrival and breaking the moment. “Kingsley, I hope you don’t mind that I’ve asked Mr. Longbottom to join us. Professor Sprout is still in the infirmary, and Hagrid is attending to his brother, so I felt that young Neville could best give us some insight on restoring the grounds.”

“An excellent idea Minerva,” Arthur Weasley said, but he was looking at Harry then. No doubt he had seen what had silently passed between his daughter and him.

As the assemblage made its way up the stairs, I held back intending to ask Neville about Luna. Fortunately, I caught myself this time before I had to invent another story about my interest in a supposed stranger. I also almost asked him about the sword he was still carrying, but I remembered some vague account about how he would formally return it to the school after the battle to the pleasure of the collected paintings of past headmasters.

Once we were in the office, a quick examination revealed that during Severus Snape’s tenure as head of the academy he had purged the room of all reminders of Dumbledore’s time there. Years later Harry allowed me to view Snape’s final memories in his family’s pensieve. They showed a man who had, in fact, been a great hero in the end. The severe transformation of this area had probably been to add credence to his Death Eater performance. I saw how the others who had visited this chamber before hadn’t missed the changes either.

“I apologize for being so terse, but time is of the essence now and there is a great deal of work to be done I’m sure,” Kingsley began. “Harry, I want to explain something to you at the outset. What you have done for all of us here will never be forgotten.”

“I actually wish that it would be,” Harry quickly countered. “I’ve had to endure years of being The Boy Who Lived, and now I’ll no doubt be given some other similarly awful title. I don’t want to be proud of having taken a life or of being responsible for so many other deaths.”

“You weren’t responsible Harry…Voldemort was.” I was as surprised that I said it as the others seemed to be at my using old gym-sock-breath’s name.

“Harry, I completely understand,” Kingsley continued. “The simple matter is that it really isn’t over yet. Yes, we retook the Ministry…even before the battle here had ended. The remaining sympathizers there however have yet to be completely eliminated. All across England…Europe in fact there is without doubt not a single Wizarding family that has not been touched by this war. There is a great deal of healing and rebuilding that must be accomplished.”

“How does any of that involve Harry?” Ginny asked. I noticed, as did her father, that she had moved over to Harry and taken his hand in a protective manner.

“I can answer that,” I said, again surprising everyone. I was the only one there who had heard the explanation before and already lived through a version of the war’s aftermath. “Harry is still a rallying point. People will look to him to see if they can safely return to their normal lives. The good news is that the best way to demonstrate that is for him to quietly return to his own.” I could see that this part of my explanation wasn’t what they expected, and I wasn’t able to tell them why it was true. “The other benchmark is going to be this school.”

“Exactly!” Arthur interrupted. “After what has happened here, Hogwarts will be seen almost as holy ground. Children have died here.” The man choked at these words, but after a moment he slowly inhaled, and then he pushed on. “We will make a strong statement by quickly reconstructing what these evil forces did to the school. We show that if Hogwarts is safe to operate again then our lives, homes, businesses can return to their customary states as well.”

They were good words, and exactly what I was going to say. It was the message New York worked to convey years later when the Twin Towers were destroyed. Even with lizard lips dead, if we left Hogwarts in ruins…even delayed our actions…then the Death Eaters achieved one final victory.

“Minister Shacklebolt, what did you mean when you said that Hogwarts was dying?” Ginny asked before I could remember to. “The castle isn’t really alive, is it?”

“In a manner of speaking it is Miss Weasley,” McGonagall answered for him. “Hogwarts is far older than any history text explains it to be. It was, in fact, constructed by the hands of elves under the employ of a certain…Immortal. The gentleman lived and worked here for centuries before moving his home to a more northerly location and transferring the castle to the four founders.”

I did know all this from my personal experiences, but even if you believed what I could tell you here, I’m not going to spoil the other story. I thought that I could see where she was taking this donkey cart though.

“Over the ages various spells, charms, wards and other forms of magic have been placed upon this old castle augmenting that associated with what had originally been attached here. With each new addition to the structure…with the passage of time…the magic evolved from that most ancient and elemental of enchantments. I don’t completely understand it, but in a way, it is as if the school was indeed alive and has been fighting the forces of Darkness as our friend and ally.”

Everyone was quiet then for almost a full minute absorbing her words before Shacklebolt again spoke.

“This is why we must make the rebuilding of Hogwarts a priority. Apart from all else, we owe the school this, and we must act as if we were Madame Pomfrey treating an injured friend. Mr. Tracy, what exactly will be involved in this process?”

Oh feldercarb! I was no more a real engineer than I was an astronaut. This was too important to try and fake credentials. I strongly doubted that I could learn a lifetime of construction techniques and overcome my jinx in just a few seconds. It was time to evoke that favorite management style of politicians and senior leadership everywhere. I would simply lie a lot and delegate responsibility even more.

“Well it’s going to be extremely difficult to override or cancel some of the magic linked to the castle. I don’t suppose that we could contact some representative from the original builder’s group?” I directed this request at the new headmistress, and from the way that her eyes went wide, it was obvious that she knew that I knew her secret.

“I’m afraid that Uncle Nicholas couldn’t come immediately,” a new voice replied.

Everyone turned toward the entryway, and there stood teenage Luna with two elves wearing hardhats. The collective gasps told me that none of the others had ever seen this much larger variety of elves as we had before us. Of course, I was thrilled and relieved to see that the girl was all right except for a bruise on her cheek and scratch on her chin. Without thinking, I took a step forward but stopped myself when I saw Neville already by her side.

“Right! Sorry for dropping in on you unannounced, but the boss said it was important. He’s stuck in China trying to resolve a small problem at one of our workshops,” the taller elf clarified. Everyone was taken aback at his proper English.

“I told you we shouldn’t have outsourced manufacturing Bernard,” the second one muttered not quite under his breath.

“They’re here to help us if they can,” Luna said, and then stepped over and presented me with a large set of blueprints. She looked me in the eyes and smiled then, and it was my turn to be amazed. She recognized me? This was getting more and more complicated.

To hide my confusion, I immediately unrolled the plans onto the desk and pretended to study them as everyone joined me. To my left and right stood the two elves, and fortunately they seemed to know what they were doing.

“Hmm…we saw the damage when we arrived. Tsk, tsk, tsk. It looked easy the first time,” Bernard announced to the room.

“You were here when the castle was first built? Crikey how long do elves live?” Ron blurted out. Everyone ignored the interruption, but it was a good question.

“Nope…nah…nada…I don’t think that we can fix this place,” the second elf said. I later learned that his name was Fast Eddy (something to do with an elfin pool league). “No, for your work crews to be able to get past some of the protective wards you’d need the most ancient and mystical Kon Trak Tors Potion made from stone blood, dodo bird teeth, frog whiskers, unused troll purse strings, spoiled billionaire debutant sweat, and something called a fanfiction story. None of these ingredients truly exist. Your only other option would be if someone held the Elder Wand.”

“I don’t suppose that you have that lying around?” Bernard asked.

*****


As the hours went by planning the work, I began to strongly doubt that this was a dream. The boredom at having to listen to the construction details was mind-numbing. There was drool running down my cheek. No…I was dead, and my personal hell was sitting through that endless meeting. Worse yet, I had to keep smiling, nodding, and pretending that I knew what I was doing.

Don’t get me wrong. There were some great ideas thrown out. At the evening meal later, Professor McGonagall would address the remaining students requesting help with the construction labor (we were determined to demonstrate how the school could take care of the project itself), and to solicit renovation ideas from them. With that in mind, it was decided that we would divide into three teams, each headed by a team of senior students (or former ones). Ron and Hermione would concentrate on the Great Hall and surrounding areas; Seamus Finnigan and George Weasley would take care of the towers; and Neville and Luna were given charge of the grounds and outbuildings. Harry would make the rounds of all the areas determining what obstructive magic had been used and utilizing the wand to offset it.

As important as it was, it was apparent that Harry was doing all this reluctantly. It seemed to be the story of his life so far. One thing I noticed was that Ginny was now remaining very close to him, showing the same concern that she had demonstrated for her father earlier. She still gave the older of the two the occasional worried glance, but more and more her attention was elsewhere. Mr. Weasley, at first, demonstrated curiosity at seeing the two like that, then a sort of friendly resignation, and finally a soft smile that said he approved the match. In other words, he was reacting exactly the way Ron had.

“I’m sorry. I need to clear my head for a few minutes,” Harry announced as the wall clock chimed the half-hour. Without waiting for a reply, he (and Ginny) stood and started for the stairway and a short break away from all of us.

Only the need to preserve my disguise kept me from jumping up and screaming thank you. I still had some weird idea about being able to help there. I left the office, and began to wander the hallways, trying to both relax and to act as if I didn’t know my way around. The school, for the most part (those portions that I encountered), seemed to be repairable. I knew though, from what I had seen outside, that in other areas there was massive work to be undertaken.

Turning a corner, I saw Luna in the distance just outside the Transfiguration classroom and talking with Neville. The two were standing very close, smiling and… Well, this wasn’t my version of things, and I didn’t need to be interrupting them.

Doubling back, I had gone maybe forty feet when I spotted Harry and Ginny leaning over a railing and deep in conversation. I instantly decided that it was the worst possible time to interrupt them as well, and quickly ducked behind a statue of Prince Terrance the Tightwad (banished by his countrymen for stealing children’s milk money). Unfortunately, it was a perfect location for eavesdropping.

“Harry, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about what a git I was to say those things to you at Dumbledore’s funeral. I’m a git for not saying enough when I came to the Burrow before my birthday. I’m three times the git for not finding a way to take you with us when we left that day…and for not writing…and for not trusting that you could stand beside me when I faced Voldemort. I was just so worried that something would happen to you.”

“Yes Harry, you are a git, but not for any of the reasons you just gave me. You are because you are such an enormous coward!” I risked a quick peek then, and saw that Ginny was smiling as she spoke. “You’re in love with me, and you refuse to admit it to either yourself or to me. I couldn’t go with Ron, Hermione, and you without betraying you through the underage trace.”

“There have to be ways to counter that magic Ginny.”

“I would also have betrayed my family if both Ron and I had been missing from school. Snape was suspicious enough as it was about Ron’s mysterious sickness. That royal pain in the…”

“Please don’t say that Ginny. I’ll explain it all later, but the Professor wasn’t what he seemed to be. He was an extremely brave man, and in his own way, a good friend.” I could hear her gasp at his words even from where I was several feet away.

“Harry I…” she began.

“It’s good Ginny. Now I can’t have you thinking all that of me, at least not for the reasons you gave. I’m in love with you. There I said it. I love the way you look at me. I love the way you stand up to me when you know I’m wrong…even if I’m not. I love your freckles and your red hair and your gingersnap cookies.”

“Mum made those Harry. I should have told you. I’m in love with you too.”

“I love the fierce look on your face when you’re chasing the Snitch, and I love the times when you… Hold on; what did you just say?”

“I said that Mum made those gingersnaps, but the peanut butter cookies were…mmm!”

Either Ginny was extremely enthusiastic about baking, or I was really secretly intruding on a very special moment and its associated kiss. I hoped it was that since I’m not especially fond of peanut butter cookies. I was beginning to think they had quietly snuck away when I heard Ginny speak again.

“Keep it up and I may need a longer break Potter.”

“I wish that I could just surrender this bloody wand and leave here altogether. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.” I heard Harry exhale several times, knew exactly what he was thinking, and almost stepped out to confront him. No, I wasn’t that stupid, but Harry was that lucky. Ginny was still there.

“Harry did you hear what the strange American said back there?”

Strange? Who’s strange?

“You don’t mean all that rubbish he was spouting about proper construction methods? Ginny, I don’t think the man could drive a nail to hang a jackalope head.”

Hey, I resent that. It’s true, but I still resent it.

“What’s a jackalope? No, Harry I mean what he was saying about you; about your trying to shoulder any of this. You can’t! You didn’t kill your parents. You-Know-Who…Voldemort did. You didn’t kill…Fred. You didn’t do anything wrong. The boy I fell in love with wouldn’t ever do anything wrong.”

“Uhm, Ginny about Percy’s sixteenth birthday. I helped your brothers with the exploding plum pie.”

Yet another story that I had to hear someday. It was time to pull out of there, and to give them some privacy. The layout of the corridor allowed me to move away unseen as long as I hugged the stone wall. I was still nervous until I backed around the far corner and could finally relax and breathe again. That was when the finger tapped my shoulder. I spun around to face…Luna.

“Excuse me Spenser; may we talk?”

“I…uhm…that is… Sure, I guess. Hold on, what did you call me?”

“Uncle Nicholas didn’t tell me everything. He said that I needed to ask you who you really are…and to make you answer me. He said that you would do that.”

“He did, did he?” What had he been thinking? I couldn’t tell her. I wouldn’t tell her. “Where’s your boyfriend miss?” I quickly asked.

“I have to meet him.”

“Why don’t you go do that,” I said, and then pushed past her to get away.

*****


By the time I woke the next morning there were no remaining doubts about this somehow being real. I’ve never dreamed in color, I didn’t think you can smell and taste things that way in your sleep, and the intricate details and passage of time painted the scene as authentic. Then there was my sore back from sleeping on the camp cot in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

Descending the staircase, I was struck by the smell of good coffee and the sight of Ron, Hermione, and Harry huddled around the fire. None of them looked as if they had slept the night before. Ron had an affectionate arm around Hermione, and for some reason, he had a large bandage…no, it was an icepack of some sort attached to his head.

“Oh no Hermione…you hit him with a shovel?” I said, but instantly wished I hadn’t.

“It was an accident Mr. Tracy. He surprised me as I was beginning to shovel some broken glass by Greenhouse Four last night. Excuse me; how did you know I had done that?” she asked, giving me her famous penetrating glare.

“It was just a lucky…a logical guess. My cousin did the same thing to her future husband the day he finally said that he loved her out loud. Then a similar thing happened to their sons Angus and Arthur Junior with their respective girlfriends.”

“Arthur? That’s my dad’s first name,” Ron admitted.

“Really? Imagine that.” I glanced over to Harry, and he looked as if his dog had died. That’s when I noticed that Ginny wasn’t there. “Hey, where’s your lady kid?” Harry shot me an angry glare that left me no doubt he didn’t think it was any of my business.

“They had a fight last night. Ouch Hermione! Are you determined to kill me?” If her elbow in the ribs hurt, then seeing his friends’ expressions after revealing that should have put him in the infirmary.

“Ah…she gave you another lecture about shouldering the guilt over the all the casualties here.” Harry’s attention was back on me, and his eyes were shooting daggers. “Let me tell you about another friend of mine. You’d like this guy. He lost his family just the way that you did…a few acquaintances as well. In his case though, he listened to his friends. How many did you personally hurl lethal curses at Harry? None? You don’t say. Don’t give me any of that bunk about should have/could have either. You’re not some all-knowing superhero kid.”

“Don’t call me kid!” he said in a low threatening voice.

“Then don’t act like one mate,” Ron said before I could. His voice and face revealed his fatigue and sadness. “We need to get to work now,” he added as he stepped off toward the portal with a quiet Hermione in tow.

Harry and I locked eyes, and for a brief second, I thought I saw what might have been acceptance of our words. I had to drive home my point now.

“Harry, don’t ask me how I know this, but with Ginny by your side you two can do anything. The same is true for Ron and Hermione. You’ll have to trust me on this one. I’m not allowed to explain. Now let’s go make some sawdust.”

“Sawdust? The entire castle is made of stone,” he pointed out as we moved to follow the others out of the tower.”

“If there’s a way to find some then…” I started to say as I passed through the door behind him. “Sweet jumping up and down Martha!”

All right, any of you who have never seen an ant hill please raise your hands and we’ll send someone over with an encyclopedia. As far as an exact visual representation of what they look like, I would refer you to Hogwarts Castle that morning. Everywhere we looked there were elves hard at work–-at least two hundred of the little guys just within eyeshot. With them were a dozen or so students manually lugging buckets of debris toward the stairwell.

“Why aren’t we removing the rubble with magic?” Ron asked as he and Hermione rejoined us.

“The stone is resisting their spells. It’s as if there was a powerful charm upon it,” she replied. A quick attempt to levitate a large brick confirmed her supposition. “Harry will you be able to help us”

“If I can do it, then…” Harry drew the Elder Wand from the back of his belt then, but instead of aiming it at the individual stone, passed it overhead in a broad arc. If he spoke as he did so, I couldn’t hear him, but a moment later a light blue haze began to emanate from the walls with a darker hue about the mortar. Apparently, the magic associated with it helped support the superstructure with a magnetic-like attraction.

Once again waving the wand, and this time I was certain that he hadn’t spoken, the haze was altered to a light orange glow, and began to rapidly spread out from where we stood. Harry motioned then for one of the construction elves to come closer.

“I was able to use a simple Reveal Spell to show what binding charms had been placed on the walls. This magic is both good and bad. They reinforce the castle to where it took a powerful energy to overcome it, but then it doesn’t allow easy repairs. I was able to counteract it, and you should now be able to move the debris, and to set repaired stonework in place.” The elf bowed low in thanks, and then darted off shouting instructions to his coworkers.

“Thanks Harry,” Ron told him. “We need to get downstairs now, I think. I’m sure we’ll have to have you use the wand again eventually.”

Harry nodded, smiled at his two friends, and started off in the direction of the Astronomy Tower with me trying to keep up with him. I wasn’t sure if he was still angry with me, deep in thought, or just realizing that it was a bigger job ahead then he thought.

Along the way, we could see that there were even more elves then we first suspected. Actually, there were more elves than I thought existed in the entire hemisphere. The students we passed were working just as hard as the little fellows, and Harry made the point of giving each and every one we met a compliment and strong words of encouragement. At one point he caught himself, looked at me with a curious expression, and then grinned. He realized that he needed to listen to his own words now.

When we reached the Astronomy Tower, we saw that Seamus was already hard at work…trying to shout down a particularly large and ugly elf. Many people don’t realize that there are a number of different types of elves, just as there are diverse breeds of dragons, gnomes, etc. The smallest were the shoe-makers and the larger were the rarely seen forest elves (which love to hang around with hobbits). House-elves were generally referenced as the middle and most common of the species. Seamus’ friend seemed to belong to the group that was employed by Nicholas in his workshops.

“Is there a problem Seamus?” Harry asked, but he was staring down the elf and once again angry.

“G’morning Harry. Yeah, Dufus here is dragging his big feet about finishing up.”

“The structure is split down the side from its foundation to the peak. If we can move the stone now, we will need to demolish the tower and begin again. Our efforts are better directed elsewhere. It can’t be saved,” the elf said, again in surprisingly good English.

“It will be saved,” Harry countered. His voice was now calm. “This is where Professor Dumbledore died, and I have no intention of allowing it to be destroyed. Show us this split.”

As we began to climb the stairs, I noticed two things. The first was that the long crack was much more massive than we had believed. I began to wonder if maybe the elf was right. The second thing, and it was fairly evident, was that Harry hadn’t once asked the master construction engineer for his opinion. I wasn’t fooling him.

“Where is George, Seamus?” Harry asked then.

“Up at the top. You’ll see in a minute Harry. It’s bad.”

At his words, we began to run up the steps, and emerging at the top we could see what he had meant. George was sitting there on the ground with his legs tucked up and slowly rocking back and forth. He had a blank stare on his face as he looked across at the damaged wall. Tears were rolling down his face, but he didn’t make a sound while he sat there sobbing. It was as if he didn’t realize that we were with him or was simply ignoring us. My heart went out to the poor guy. With Fred gone, it was probably the first time in his life that he had been completely alone.

I looked over to Harry, not to try and make a point, but rather to gauge his reaction. He gently shook his head and silently pleaded with me not to give the Weasley brother my speech from earlier. In just the last half-hour Harry had changed dramatically. I suddenly knew what he wanted to tell George. Instead of delivering his own lecture though, he pulled the wand again and…turned it on the elf.

“I wouldn’t stand there if I were you,” he told the worker. The elf literally dove out of the way before Harry had even finished speaking. “Reparo!” he shouted then pointing the wand at the Astronomy Tower’s fissure.

It had been almost thirty years since I had seen Harry wield the wand with such power, and then it had been in our own final battle. This was much more dramatic. The tower seemed to twist, lift, and shift below our feet and I had to wonder why we couldn’t have done this at the base instead of the top. I saw George’s face then, and I knew. Harry understood what he was doing.

Several seconds passed while we watched the crack seal itself as if it were a movie special effect. Magic is like that more often than Muggles realize. When he had finished, Harry replaced the wand in his belt, took a deep cleansing breath, and then turned back to George who was now on his feet.

“Harry why even bother? It’s just a pile of bricks,” Weasley said shaking his head.

“Because Fred would expect us to.” George lifted his head at these words and wiped his eyes. It was his turn to take a deep breath. “You know, Professor McGonagall confided in me that there is an old tradition that applies here. Builders may add something unique or…covert into the castle as they build onto it. That explains all of your secret passages. I don’t suppose you have anything in mind that would apply here, do you?”

George thought about it for a minute, and then rushed over to the outer wall to look down. His famous mischievous grin was back, and Harry had one to match. George waved Seamus over and whispered something to him that suddenly had the Irishman laughing. The two then turned back toward the confused elf.

“Once you’re done with the last of the cleanup here, we have a new project for your crew,” Seamus told him.

“We want you to build us a giant slide that will circle the tower down from here to its base. It should be great fun,” George finished.

“What? I only have seventeen elves working with me. You’re asking the impossible; I’d need more workers. Besides, union rules clearly state…”

“You can tell that to Nicholas himself when he arrives,” I interrupted.

“The boss? He’s coming here? We shall have to redouble our efforts.”

“Good answer,” Harry told him. I think that he was just as pleased as I was that the elf had seen the movie.

*****


I followed Harry around for the rest of the morning as he identified the various spells associated with the school buildings, and then either countered them, or, more often, redirected the magic. In one of the hallways he discovered that the stain glass windows were often enchanted the same way the magical portraits were. This required a slow painstaking reconstruction process in order to retain their animated characterizations.

Meeting up with Ron and Hermione, we saw that with the ability to manipulate the stones now, most of their area of responsibility had been properly repaired. The elves (and we decided there had to be thousands of them on loan to us) had even restored most of the statues and suits of armor. The two remaining challenges for everyone were the Great Hall and the Muggle Studies classroom. The latter was the only place in the castle that allowed outside technology to function, if only for very limited times.

Entering the room, Harry once again utilized the Reveal Spell and we were amazed at what we saw. The magic that pulsated about the room looked very much like a series of electromagnetic fields. There was absolutely no rhyme or reason to them either. Since it was completely different from anything we had seen elsewhere, it was a logical assumption that the waves were what shielded the room from magical interference.

“What do you think Harry?” Ron asked. It was a safe bet that he had no understanding of the phenomena before us.

Harry raised the wand and attempted the Reparo Spell, but it merely caused two cracked lighting fixtures to be repaired. He began to study the classroom with new interest and apparently trying to recall his grade school science classes.

“The poles!” he suddenly shouted and again lifted the Elder Wand. He pointed it at a point of flux intersection in one of the smaller fields and dragged it to a corresponding point on another. It was instantly repelled, but that was undoubtedly because he had brought together like polarities. Another attempt succeeded in forming a larger flux mass. With perhaps twenty minutes of work he established one enormous field now bordering the room and permeating the walls. The students could finally operate their toasters and electric toothbrushes there again.

At this point, I decided to excuse myself and remake the rounds to examine our progress. I was floored with what I saw. The elves, students and teachers had been at the project for eight…perhaps ten hours, and the results were beyond miraculous. At our lunchtime meeting with the school staff, we had been told that parents and other outsiders were being kept off the grounds for the weekend, supposedly to ensure the security of the Hogsmeade area. We had won the war, but there might be a few strays outside who wanted to go down fighting. We had another day and a half before the gates reopened, and everyone was dreaming of having the rebuilding complete by then. We were well on our way.

As I left the Muggle Studies classroom, I almost literally ran into Neville Longbottom and Ginny. For some strange reason, I felt relieved that Luna wasn’t with them…with him. I shouldn’t have been. The Luna I knew was back in future Oregon, no doubt wondering where I was and why the kitchen floor was covered with reams of crumpled up notepaper. I forced myself to ask Neville where the girl was.

“She’s been rushing back and forth to the owlry all day,” he said. “I don’t understand it. There was no damage there.”

“Neville, how are your projects coming along?” Hermione asked as she and Ron came into the corridor.

I saw Ginny look past the girl to her brother, exchange a smile with him, and then, without a word, enter the classroom (no doubt to discuss architecture with Harry). Neville began to explain in detail how Harry had used the wand to generate a maelstrom of broken glass, and, with a quick flick, reconstructed hundreds of panes. Ron questioned him then about why they had needed Harry for such a simple matter, but Neville just smiled back.

“Harry applied a spell to the surface of all the windows which will prevent them from ever shattering again. It was amazing. You would not believe the amount of time normally devoted to greenhouse maintenance,” Neville told him.

“What feature did you decide to add outside?” I asked. With Luna involved it could have been anything.

“Come look,” he said, and led us to a large castle window. Down below us was an enormous glass dome constructed about a hundred yards to one side of Hagrid’s rebuilt hut. “It’s an arboretum. It’s a place for students to go to enjoy the various plants we’ll put there…not to study, but really just to enjoy.”

I could tell that Ron and Hermione were as proud of him then as I was.

*****


“Hello Harry.”

“Ginny! Ginny…I am such a…”

“A git? Yes, I believe that we’ve already had this conversation,” she laughed.

It was the last dose of medicine that he needed that day, and Harry was a little surprised that no one had knocked him on his tail yet after the way he had behaved. He moved up to her, put his arms around her waist and enjoyed having her reciprocate.

“So, what have you been up to today Miss Weasley?”

“Oh, this and that. I’ve been helping out where I can. There’s been a lot of damage done.”

“It was a fierce battle Ginny. I’m sorry…”

“No, you don’t Potter; we’re past that now. If I hear another word of self-pity, I’m going to apply the Bat Boogie Hex. Besides, I was referring to the smash ups that have been done here just today. The scaffolding collapsing when someone tried to adjust it; the three inches of fetid water in the boys’ first-floor lavatory; there was that runaway wheel barrel with six house-elves holding on for dear life; oh, and I almost forgot the ladders that vanished trapping the Hufflepuffs dangling from a half-repaired landing.”

“You weren’t there when those third-floor statues dominoed Ginny. Our strange American is a bit too much of a klutz to be a construction superintendent I think.”

“Mr. Tracy’s not what he seems, that’s certain, but Luna specifically requested that we trust the man. For some reason, he asked me if I knew anything about the Burrow, a giant chicken, a flying bathtub and a store full of Muggle power tools.” Ginny laughed and was pleased to see Harry join her. “Harry…I want to tell you how proud I am of you for what you are doing to help rebuild.”

“I’m just waving this wand around a lot Gin.”

“I meant the lives that you’re helping to rebuild Harry. This project is exactly what everyone needed to do, and right away at that. George is actually pulling pranks again, and he wants me to come play with something over at the Astronomy Tower. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“Yes, but it’s a surprise. Speaking of which, what’s this special feature everyone decided to add during the supper meeting last night? I wasn’t there. Have you heard?”

“I just did and you’re not going to believe it.”

*****


Did I say the work was progressing at a miraculous pace? By breakfast the next morning I decided they needed to invent a new word for what we were seeing before us. The elves and even some of the school residents worked all night, and when we emerged from Gryffindor Tower, just after sunrise, it wasn’t just to a restored castle; it was to an upgraded one. I was very pleased with the overall effort and only a little perturbed at how everyone kept steering me away from the tool boxes for some reason.

Two last projects remained, and we saw that the additional elfin workers had for the most part already departed. The first matter at hand was the bigger of the two. The Great Hall had to be aligned, and the ceiling reactivated to match the sky. The chamber had actually been the site of most of the indoor fighting as well as a primary target for external attack. Harry had his work cut out for him.

A Reveal Spell showed that instead of obstructive magic, there was a great absence of any at all. The Hall had been turned off, and it was resisting all efforts to reignite its spells. One more time Harry raised the Elder Wand, and a few seconds of effort produced a sunny morning sky over our heads again. That was the easy part. When he attempted to reinitiate the wall supports and shields, even the magic from Dumbledore’s wand merely rolled off as if it were fog across a pond.

“Harry, the wand is powerful and all, but is it necessarily precise?” Hermione asked. Naturally, she was exactly the person I expected to come up with a solution. Where the new castle feature that Ron advocated was a weather protection for the Quidditch bleachers, Hermione had simply asked for better lighting in the library’s reading room.

“I think what she means Harry is that if you use the Elder Wand’s magic, and then channel it through your own wand, you might have better control reweaving the protections,” Professor McGonagall offered.

“One will be the fire hose and the other its nozzle. Is that what you mean?” Ginny asked. The headmistress’ smile was a great reply. Now even I understood it.

Harry nodded, produced his own restored holly wand, and held it out in his left hand. With the Elder Wand he again applied the magic to the far wall, but this time he manipulated the stream of light as if he were embroidering a pattern. In a way he was.

The magic appeared to form into something akin to a spider web, flowing back to the walls and embracing them like giant tapestries. Almost too low in tone to hear, but definitely felt, was a strong hum that was growing in magnitude and was becoming painful to the senses. Adding to the experience was an unexpected flash of blue light. It formed on the wall the way the corridor outside the Gryffindor Tower had the morning before. It held and then was gone. Another project done.

“What’s next Harry?” Ron asked.

“We get to go down into the subbasement now. Hopefully those old pipes and air ducts haven’t collapsed.”

*****



“Hermione could you hand me the burn balm?” Ron asked. From the look of him…all of us in fact…we would need a few gallons of the stuff.

“That ice bucket next to you as well please,” Ginny added. “Does my head look as bad as it feels?”

“I’m afraid that you and your brother have matching lumps now Ginny,” Hermione told her.

“Great stories to go with both of them as well,” I said then. I looked down at my singed clothing and realized that no Scourgify Spell was going to help this time. One of the big problems with these little trips I’ve taken over the years was the lack of appropriate luggage and a change of clothing.

“I swear that if I ever find out who suggested putting that fire-breathing dragon in the basement to provide central heating and hot water…I’ll make them clean his pen down there!” Ron almost yelled. “I told you we should have waited for Charlie to get back! It wasn’t worth it!”

“Yes, it was,” Harry and Seamus said in unison as they descended the stairs to join the rest of us.”

“Seamus…you’re clean! You’re wet too!” Ginny stammered.

“Right on both counts. Twenty minutes in the shower, and it was still pouring hot when I climbed out. I almost don’t want to go home,” Seamus said with a big satisfied smile.

“I guess our job is done here then. Excuse me…your job,” I corrected. “I really didn’t do much of anything did I?”

“No, I’m afraid that you didn’t sir, if I’m being honest.”

“You keep calling me sir Harry, and I’m going to start calling you kid again. To answer your next three questions; no, I’m not really an engineer; no, I’m not going to tell you who I actually am. I made that mistake once before. No, I have no idea why I was sent here.”

“Nicholas believes that you’re here to observe and then write this story Spenser,” Luna said coming through the Gryffindor portal. She was always welcome in the Tower, but it never failed to amaze me how she could always get by the Fat Lady so easily.

“What did she call you Mr. Tracy?” Ginny asked.

Great! She…everyone had heard! “You’re here to see Neville aren’t you Miss Lovegood? Your boyfriend’s upstairs. I can go get him.” I had to change the subject quickly.

“What? Neville isn’t my… My new boyfriend is downstairs talking to Professor McGonagall about attending classes here next year,” Luna continued. “Uncle Nicholas just brought him over from the United States along with the real construction engineer,”

“Let me guess. They’re all looking for me now. Lovely! Harry, I’m afraid I need to sneak out Hogwarts’ back door.” Luna’s new boyfriend was American? Where was their Rolf Scamander from?

“We can show you a shortcut passage,” Harry said and fortunately he was laughing again. I couldn’t get over the change in him and the others in just the few days I had been there. “It leads to that small stone bridge you were working on yesterday evening. You can Apparate away once you’re across Mr. Tracy.”

“Actually, it’s Hemmingway, Spenser Hemmingway…but that’s all you’re getting.”

The seven of us darted through the portal, but Seamus went to delay the new arrivals, and to give us a bit more time. Harry and Ginny led us to the History of Magic classroom, and once inside to the oversize podium there. As he slid it aside, I was exposed to an entryway that either didn’t exist in my universe, or I simply never learned about over the years. Once inside, we waited until the hatch had closed before illuminating the tunnel. Judging from the condition of the path it had seen quite a bit of use recently.

We ran on for maybe five minutes and slowed again only at the sight of another door. Ron swung it open for us–-fortunately very quietly. Outside again, I recognized the bridge we rebuilt and the small trail that led to it from near the greenhouses. I also recognized the two Death Eaters who stood halfway across waiting for us. It had been thirty years, but it seemed as if it were just the day before that all of us had faced pukes like these. Of course, for this Harry and Ginny, it really had only been a couple of days.

“Harry, if I were a guessing man, I’d say that someone missed a couple. I’d also bet they’re here for the fancy new wand you’re still carrying,” I told him. “Listen carefully Harry. Ginny will work better on your left. Ron and Hermione, you’ve got the flanks in case there are more of them. I’m the old geezer so I take point. I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

“Spenser…” Harry began.

“Trust me Harry, and trust each other, especially Ginny. She can take care of herself…and you.”

“Spenser!” Ginny called out this time.

“Luna…you and Americans. This new guy had better take good care of you kiddo.”

“You will, I’m sure of it,” she softly said, whatever that meant.

“Spenser, will you shut up please,” Harry said and for some reason he was on the verge of laughing again. What was he thinking? “If you are supposed to really write this story, then will you please allow us to be the heroes? You’re far too melodramatic.”

He stepped past me then, and out onto the bridge, but only for a few feet. The Death Eaters were either being overly cautious of our greater numbers, or fairly stupid. Actually, it was probably the latter since they were there at all. I really didn’t believe that there were more of them out of sight as backup.

“You there…if you’re here for the castle’s grand reopening then you’re early. We just completed the work today,” Harry explained. “We’d love to show it off to you in daylight. It was quite an accomplishment really, and superior workmanship as well for the most part. One possible exception was this bridge. Your friends completely destroyed it early in the battle.”

Uh oh. I knew where Harry was taking this.

“This gentleman, Mr. Tracy, is from the American Bureau of Magic. He’s an engineer and the superintendent for the work we completed this weekend. The problem is…well, he’s completely incompetent. I mean he is really beyond worthless on a construction site.”

“Uhm Harry, do you have to be so honest?” I whispered.

“Just having him at Hogwarts was counterproductive. In fact, he’s outright dangerous if you ask me.” When Harry paused, the two men before us took a step forward and began to raise their wands. “One last thing…he oversaw the reconstruction of this one bridge. He repaired it almost by himself. That railing there. How do you know it would support you if you fell against it? The slab you are standing on. How do you know the block…?”

Perhaps they suspected something. Perhaps they had grown impatient with Harry’s speech. The Death Eaters suddenly lunged forward, but Harry merely bent his knees and jumped into the air several inches. When he came down again…well so did the center section of the bridge and the two goons into the dark chasm below. It was extremely embarrassing.

I crept forward, and raising my wand attempted to illuminate the small gorge to see where they had landed. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw them off to one side on a ledge, and they were moving. They were still alive. For Harry’s sake, I was glad about that.

“I’m sorry about the surprise. Maybe I should have warned you that I suspected it would do that,” Harry finally explained.

“It’s better that we had it collapse now,” I replied. “It could have been me out there crossing it when…” All at once another section did give way beneath my feet, and I was falling. The last thing I heard was everyone calling out my name as I dropped away.

*****


This time when I hit, it really did hurt…a lot. The indigestion was back, and the headache wasn’t from striking the sidewalk. To add insult to injury, a pair of apples decided to play the Isaac Newton card and bean me on the forehead.

“You’re getting far too old to be attempting stunts like this Spenser. Shouldn’t you have used your wand instead of that old ladder?”

I tilted my head a bit, and there were Luna’s fuzzy pink slippers with her long green and white striped socks tucked inside them. I forced myself to slowly climb to my feet, which may not have been the wisest move. Still, it was better than if I had really landed from the bridge instead of the ladder. There was concern in her eyes, but there was also a bit of amusement at my condition. A few seconds later up walked Harry with Ginny who was holding the hand of our granddaughter Minerva. Yes, I was home, and, for some reason, expecting news cameras to complete my embarrassment.

As the wives retreated inside, I held back with Harry and began to quickly outline what had happened, stressing how real I believed it to be. He asked me a few clarifying questions but seemed more interested in the details of the reconstruction than in the story I would produce.

“You know Harry, even if I hadn’t read Deathly Hallows, I never had a doubt that Ginny and you would end up together in their version of things.”

“And you Spenser? You said that Luna’s new boyfriend was an American coming to Hogwarts as an exchange student?” Why was he grinning?

“Yeah and… Oh boy, you don’t suppose?”

“Yes, I do. Spenser there are infinite possibilities, and maybe that means we’ll encounter various corresponding realities as well over time. I do believe that one thing will always be a universal factor however.”

“You mean that Ginny and you will always be a couple?”

“Well naturally there is that. What I was referring to though is the collective need for people everywhere…across time, space and alternative universes…to keep you away from all construction projects.”

Mischief managed!
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