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When Harry regained consciousness in the morning, the first thing he saw was Michael coming at him with a potion bottle. "Hey!" he whispered indignantly, as the glass headed for his mouth.

"Take it, Harry," Michael said firmly. "I refuse to let you die on us after all this."

Harry swallowed the foul stuff and took stock of his surroundings. He was in Michael's cabin, but it looked different. Zelda was curled up asleep in a chair nearby, looking cramped. He stretched his legs, shocked at how shaky he felt, and a groan emanated from the area near his feet.

"Why's there a dog here?" he asked feebly.

"That's Zelda's new familiar," said Michael, smirking. "Meet Rowena the Wonder Dog. I hope you like dogs, because she's here to stay."

At the sound of her name, Rowena rose and clambered down from the couch to greet Michael. She turned next to Harry, sniffed his face intently and licked his chin. Finally she put her front paws in Zelda's lap and began licking her face, causing Zelda to giggle and open her eyes.

"Rowena! Stop it," she groaned, hugging the animal. "Goddess, I'm so achy." When she saw that Harry was awake and watching, she smiled in relief. "How are you?" she asked.

"Okay, I think," he said hesitantly. "What happened? The last thing I remember was finding another... thing. How did I get here? Where're Ron and Hermione?"

"They're okay, and they'll be back this afternoon," she said, getting stiffly to her feet. She went to the table and got his glasses for him. "I'm going to get cleaned up, if you two are okay here."

"No problemo," said Michael cockily. "Sounds like you'll have a house party later, so enjoy yourself." He turned to Harry and said, "I have to leave this afternoon to go back to work. Let me help you get to the bathroom, and if you're a good patient, I'll let you take a shower."

Zelda took a long soak in the magical bath and tried to grasp the events of the past day. It was too much though, so she simply decided to move forward and deal with immediate chores. She'd think later. The weather was much cooler, although sunny, so she put on jeans. She allowed herself precisely thirty seconds to think about, miss and worry over Severus, and then strode out of the bedroom.

Harry was back on the couch, but sitting up and wearing a clean t-shirt and sweatpants that must be Michael's. He looked very weak, but his eyes were clear and he seemed aware again when he smiled at her. He had found his glasses on the end table, and looked more like himself again.

Michael was busy in the farthest corner from Zelda's bedroom. He had set an old table there, and put a small TV on it. He was busy connecting cables for a VCR and various video game components. "Harry, we don't get good reception out here, so this is only good for is movies and video games," he warned.

"You mean he can't watch Infomercials? How sad," Zelda said mockingly. She sat down next to Harry, kissed his cheek lightly and said, "Look at me, kid." She studied him closely, taking note of his paleness and the dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm okay, Zelda," he said defiantly, knowing it was nowhere near the truth.

"You'll be okay, but when your friends come here, I don't want you talking about anything serious until at least tomorrow," she said sternly. "You may laugh, joke, play idiot Nintendo games, or nap. Nothing more."

He looked quizzically at her. "Idiot Nintendo games? You sounded like Professor Snape for a second."

She curled her lip mockingly. "I'm not a fan of TV related activities, you know." She smiled faintly. "You scared us horribly, so for today can you just be... normal? Ordinary? Relax and forget about saving the stupid world."

Harry chuckled briefly, but said seriously, "I've only wanted to be ordinary my whole life, Zelda. I wish I could."

"Today's your chance, boy," she said, hugging him. "Be a typical, lazy, dunderhead teenager and waste today."

The morning was happily uneventful. Harry managed to eat a little breakfast and mostly slept, Michael organized as much as he could, knowing he'd be leaving soon, and Rowena alerted them every time the clock chimed for another dose of potion. When Phineas Nigellus arrived, they were all startled at how fast time had flown by.

Rowena's barking alerted them to their guest's arrival, which did not seem to please him.

"Mrs. Larsson, call off your mongrel," he hissed. "The Headmistress wishes to know how Potter is doing, but I cannot hear a thing."

Michael called the dog to his side. When she gave up barking at the portrait, he got her to snuggle up on the couch with Harry again, who welcomed her with a pleased smile.

"Harry's still weak, but doing well," said Zelda. "Are there any complications in your world resulting from this... incident?"

"None so far," he replied. "The boy must return to his aunt's house in three days. I hope he will be adequately recovered by that time."

"I hope so too," she said. "Will Minerva come here at some point?"

Phineas snorted in a most vulgar fashion. "She hopes to come here, but she is involved in discussions with the Ministry, as well as preparing for Hogwarts to open, should that be possible."

"She's always welcome, but I don't want to waste her valuable time," replied Zelda courteously. "Obviously, in an emergency we'll find her."

The late Headmaster seemed mollified by her courtesy. "Mrs. Larsson, is there word from Snape?"

She shook her head and her face became impassive. "I don't know when he'll return and I won't hear from him in any other fashion," she replied softly.

"I see," he muttered abruptly. "Well, the boy's friends will arrive here soon. Will Fletcher be here also?"

Zelda was startled to hear Michael referred to in that way, but she managed to say, "He's leaving soon, but Minerva knows how to contact him."

"Very good," he replied. "I shall return when I can. The Headmistress wishes to be assured that all is well here."

"Thanks, Phineas," she said with a wry smile. "And I'm sorry about my dog's behavior. She'll get used to you."

He eyed her suspiciously, but could find nothing to criticize in her expression, so he nodded curtly and departed without insults.

"Have you tamed Phineas Nigellus?" asked Michael.

"I'm afraid things are getting more serious, and that's why he's not acting like a jerk," she said morosely. "But that's to be expected, and today's going to be an ordinary day, right?"

Michael began preparing to leave, while Zelda went outside to wait for her young guests. It was only a short time before they appeared, and as she expected, Ginny was with them.

"Hey, Zelda! How's Harry?" shouted Ron.

She put her finger to her lips. "Over here, you three." When they were close, she said, "He's still extremely weak. No business talk for the next twenty-four hours, okay? If you can't manage that, you can leave." She stared repressively at them.

Ginny looked a bit offended, but they all nodded respectfully.

Zelda relented slightly. "He needs to rest, but he'll love it if you hang out today. Michael brought the TV, Nintendo and a few movies. Harry's promised me he's going to be a normal teenager today, instead of the savior of the wizarding world. If you kids haven't seen Star Wars, you can share it with him."

She started walking toward the cabin, and they all raced ahead. She smiled at their enthusiastic reunion as she headed for Michael's room, where he was zipping his duffle bag.

"I'm almost ready," he said. "I'll call when I know what my schedule's going to be."

"Kiss the girls for me. I'm sorry about how neglected they must feel," she told him.

Michael closed his bedroom door and they joined the young people. "I'm leaving now, and I expect that you kids will help Zelda," he said firmly.

"Michael," Ron answered reproachfully. "You don't even have to say it, we will."

"Okay, Ron," he said. He headed back into his room. "Hey, I forgot something. Will you carry my bag out to the car?"

Ron picked up the bag and waited by the car.

"Ron," said Michael, when he came out, "You know that Zelda's forbidden Harry to think about what happened until tomorrow, and she's right. He was almost dead by the time we got him to St. Mungo's, and he needs time to recover."

Ron gulped. The reminder was scary. "Okay, I hear you."

"You kids did an amazing thing, finding it," Michael said bracingly. "I'm impressed. I know you've learned from this one, and the most important thing I see is, one person can't do it alone."

"We've learned that," he replied. "You and Zelda helped save Harry's life, and we'll never forget it."

"If we can help again, you know we will," said Michael. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, and Professor Snape probably won't come back for a while. Help Zelda, okay?" He tossed his bag into the passenger seat.

"Course we will," Ron assured him. "I hope you can come back soon."

"I do too," said Michael, climbing into the car. "I'll call when I can, and you should learn to use the telephone, and especially the answering machine."

"Okay," Ron said. He stayed outside and watched him drive away with an odd sense of loss. He had never thought that ordinary Muggle people mattered much, but Michael and Zelda mattered a lot. He wondered briefly if that Weasley cousin, rumored to be an accountant, might also matter. Then he shrugged and returned to the cabin.

The rest of the day flew by. Harry slept quite a bit, but the others explored the joys of Muggle video games during that time. When he was awake, Zelda brought them a huge bowl of popcorn and they watched movies together. Despite his weakness, Harry realized he had rarely spent a happier day.

Zelda enjoyed watching Harry and his friends have an ordinary day. She thought guiltily that it was like being a mom again. She reminded herself sternly that these were not her kids, and that part of her life was finished. Still, she knew the routine and it was easy to do again for a short time. It definitely helped distract her from worrying about Severus. When they all retired to their bedrooms for the night she breathed a sigh of relief. She settled into the chair in the main room with Harry's potion clock and Rowena, and waited for Phineas Nigellus.

"Mrs. Larsson," Phineas called, "Please wake up."

Zelda was startled awake by the voice, and the sound of a dog growling. She forced open her eyes. "Hi, Phineas," she said, groaning.

"The Headmistress wishes to know if Potter is recovering, and if there is anything else she should know," he said as he studied her carefully. She had dark circles under her eyes and moved stiffly as she stood up.

The clock chimed, making Rowena bark.

"Just a minute," she said. "I have to give Harry his potion, and I can tell you how he looks then. So far he's been very weak, but he's recovering well."

She went into the boys' bedroom and reappeared a minute later, smiling. "I think he needs more than two or three days to recover, but in the afternoon I'm going to let him talk about business with Ron and Hermione. I think they'll go back to do more research while he stays and rests a little more."

"You have things well under control," he said grudgingly. "Is there anything you require?"

"How about adult wizards to help defeat Voldemort. How can your people live with themselves, expecting a child to do what they're all terrified to do?" she fired back irritably.

"Well, that seems to be what Snape is doing," replied the late Headmaster with a glint in his eye.

"Don't even go there," she snapped. She observed the faint smirk on his face and chuckled reluctantly. "There must've been hidden depths to you in life, Phineas. How could anyone allow a shallow, snippy bitch like you to be Headmaster of a prestigious school?"

"Family connections," he replied complacently. "I had no interest in teaching, but to be Headmaster of Hogwarts is an impressive accomplishment. Fortunately I had a staff composed of dedicated educators who did the actual work."

Zelda stared at him for a moment, taken aback by his ridiculous statement, and then chuckled. "Ah, of course. Nothing could be more likely than a self-absorbed social climber becoming Headmaster." She hesitated, and then asked, "When were you born, Phineas?"

"1847," he replied. "I was seven years younger than Albus Dumbledore, and was unfortunate enough to tread in his saintly footsteps at Hogwarts."

"Younger?" she asked in amazement. "But he just died! When did you die?"

"1926," he said. "I was one month shy of my eightieth birthday."

"Wow," she murmured. "What's more normal for wizards? Eighty years or one hundred fifty?"

"Well, I should mention that Dumbledore was friends and alchemy partners with the late Nicholas Flamel. He never speaks of it, but undoubtedly he experimented with the Elixir of Life at some point. However, the Dumbledore family is reputedly extremely long-lived. His younger brother is over one hundred and twenty."

"Aberforth?" she asked, shocked.

"I was one of his teachers, during his less than illustrious career at Hogwarts," Phineas murmured snidely. "I always felt that he was well suited to his career as a barman."

"There's more to Aberforth than you knew," she said reprovingly.

"I realize that now," he replied. "However, it surprised none of us that he left school after failing his OWL examinations."

He paused, his attention on something that Zelda could not hear.

"The Headmistress is summoning me," he said quickly. "I shall report Potter's progress and return at the appointed time." He walked out of his frame without waiting for a reply.

Zelda fell into a sleep-deprived routine after his visit, giving Harry his potions, interacting with the young people, training Rowena and doing household chores. The days began to blur into one another, with only snippets of events sticking in her mind. Phineas's visits were not always brief, and they were very helpful at helping her to focus on priorities. His cynical wit had an astringent quality that Zelda found bracing, and which reminded her a bit of Severus.

During one of the times that the others had left, and Harry was alone with her, they talked about the remaining Horcruxes.

"There are two left," said Harry, " and I would've thought it'd feel easier now, but, even if we find the Hufflepuff cup, there's... Nagini."

"It's good to plan ahead, Harry, but destroying a huge snake that the Dark Lord is able to possess sounds pretty intimidating." She was splitting wood behind the cabin while he sat on a blanket nearby, but she set her ax down and looked doubtfully at him. "Is the snake ever away from him?"

"I dunno," he confessed. "When Mr. Weasley was attacked by her in my dream she was alone, but Voldemort was possessing her. She'll have to be the last one."

"When Severus comes back, I'll ask him to tell me about Nagini," she said.

"Do you know when he'll come back?" he asked hesitantly. People had come and gone since he was wounded, but there was no sign of Professor Snape, and no one had mentioned him.

"I don't know," she replied in a carefully neutral voice. "But he'll be back." There was nothing more to say.

When Harry had to go back to the Dursleys, at least officially, it became rather lonely at the cabin. Michael was working long hours, but called on the phone every day. Phineas Nigellus checked in with her at least twice a day, and Minerva came several times, mostly to escape the constant pressure of her office. Zelda tried to fill every minute of her days with hard work, and her own classroom plan for the fall was finished in record time.

During one of her brief visits, Zelda presented Minerva with two possible plans for the Muggle Studies course, one of which was far more ambitious than the other. "The second plan's more of a long-term goal," she said. "It'd take time to make trustworthy connections in the Muggle world for internships to be possible, and even some of the field trips will have to be considered after you see how your students react to the briefer, more touristy ventures. It'll also depend on how your new Professor feels about it."

"I have hired Piers Clearwater, after careful consideration," Minerva told her. "I have had him investigated, and I am quite sure he is not a spy for the enemy. You'd like him, Zelda. I told him, in general terms, about the course you are designing and he finds your ideas very exciting."

"He'll want to change and adapt it, of course," she replied. "I'd want to, myself, as it's being implemented. I'd love to meet him, someday."

"I fear it's too risky at the present time," Minerva said regretfully. The Aurors are patrolling Hogsmeade more frequently than before, and Miss Tonks will arrive in a few days to prepare to teach DADA."

"It's okay," replied Zelda. "I have plenty to keep me busy here, and I'm not really into more risk taking at this point in my life."

"I must thank you for your hard work," said Minerva. "And would you like to be paid for your consulting in Galleons or Muggle money?"

Zelda laughed, probably for the first time in days, she thought. "Goddess, Minerva. Do you know what I'd have paid for a glimpse into your world? Not that I can share what I've learned with anyone in my life here, but learning some of the history of your world has changed my understanding of everything. I'm privileged to have done it."

"Nevertheless, you shall be paid," replied the Headmistress. "We shall discuss it later."

Zelda had seen Minerva off to Hogwarts, and after that she was alone, except for her dog. Rowena had adjusted well to her new situation, knew their regular guests, and had even gotten used to Phineas Nigellus appearing in his frame. She roamed the area around the cabin freely, but always returned, looking as though she had just accomplished some vital mission. Zelda, who had not wanted another dog, adored her, and Rowena had quickly become very protective of her new human.

As visits from her magical friends grew sparse, Zelda began ticking off the days. When Severus had been gone a full week, she waited until Phineas had made his noontime visit, and then fled to her bedroom and cried herself to sleep. Waking up three hours later with red, swollen eyes and a headache, she thought bitterly that crying hadn't helped. Rowena had taken advantage of her momentary weakness to leap onto the bed and join her for a nap, and Zelda didn't have the heart to scold her, considering how comforting it had been to sleep with her arm around a warm body.

Back to business, she thought briskly. She knew that if all else failed, the woodpile was always there. Since the weather was cooler and most of her other work was finished, there was really no excuse for not doing more. Her aching muscles told her that she was getting stronger than she'd been in years, and the physical exhaustion that splitting wood produced helped her to sleep at night. So she worked and waited.