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Tis time! Tis time!

Well, maybe not time, but my sense of melodrama has worked so far, I might as well go with it.

Anyways, here is part two of of my HP fic Revelatio. I know it's been forever since I started it, so here's the link to part one (reading it will definitely help you understand part two, otherwise you will be very lost): http://www.thedarkarts.org/authors/lravenhill/revelatio.html Where part one was a summary of the last 18 years basically, here we're getting into the day to day things, starting from the summer of 1996 and moving forward. I think I'm inevitably moving forward to some sort of crash, only I just don't know the players yet.

Any comments, critique, helpful hints are appreciated, because I'm not sure if it's ready to be posted to the wide world just yet.

So here we go, and I hope you enjoy it!

By Lola Ravenhill

-All Turns to Yesterday-

Dairine Boardman piloted the car up towards Bristol, tapping her fingers on the steering where in time with the music and ignoring the pouty looks from her son in the passenger seat. She sighed, and dashed a hand back through her hair.

“Alec, I know you don’t want to do this, but Mrs. Hendel recommended these people to us and she said that they’re very good, especially with children who are not enamored of the dentist.” A family legend was that Alec had needed to be held down by the nurse and his father just so his last dentist could pull a tooth—and a loose tooth at that.

Alec just crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the passing scenery. He sulked all the way to Granger and Granger Dental Associates in Bristol.

All in all it was a rather glorious late summer day, warm and breezy, the kind that made you forget that dementors were being spotted around the country with more and more frequency. An iron grip on Alec’s shoulder propelled him into the office.

“Can’t the school nurse take care of any problems?” Alec grumbled as they checked in at the reception desk. The receptionist was a teenage girl with rather bushy brown hair and a pleasant smile.

“I don’t care how much of a miracle worker Madam Pomfrey is,” Dairine said as she began to fill out the paperwork, “I won’t subject her to your teeth if I don’t have to.”

To her surprise, the girl behind the desk commented: “Madam Pomfrey hasn’t lost her touch, but she really doesn’t care to do routine dental upkeep if she doesn’t have to.” Dairine looked up to see the girl smiling at her, and offering a hand by way of introduction. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Dairine Boardman. This one with the pout is Alec.”

“Are you just starting Hogwarts?” Hermione asked him, and Alec’s face finally lost the sour look.

“Yeah. I can’t wait; it’s going to be incredible!”

“How is Headmaster Dumbledore doing?” Dairine broke in. “It seems like he’s had a bit of a tough year.”

Hermione’s face grew sober, as if thinking of something sad. “He’s surviving, as far as I know, and rather impressively at that. People are finally beginning to listen to what he has to say again.”

“Good. I remember when Dumbledore first started as Headmaster in my fifth year. It was such a nice change from Dippet, who was just as dippy as his name.” Dairine signed the papers with a flourish and handed them back. “I’m very glad Dumbledore is there.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, and then turned back to Alec. “So what house do you hope to be in?”

“I’ll be in Gryffindor,” he said proudly, in a tone that begged no arguments.

Hermione glanced at Dairine, who had the grace to blush. “For years he’s heard his father and I expound the merits of Gryffindor. His gran has tried to break us and him of that, but I get the feeling he won’t let the hat off his head until it tells him he’s in Gryffindor, even if he’s better suited for Hufflepuff.”

“Was his father a Gryffindor also?” At this point Alec wandered off, trying to make his escape. However the nurse had decided that was the moment to call Alec in for his exam, displaying unusually good timing. Grumbling, he was escorted away for his X-rays.

“Yes, he was,” Dairine continued after she sent Alec on his way with a kiss to his forehead. “A number of years ahead of me, but still a Lion to the core.” As a fellow Gryffindor, Hermione understood perfectly. “So what is Hogwarts like these days?” Dairine asked, propping her arms on the ledge of the high reception desk. Any other customers could just go around her. It was early enough in the morning as well that no muggles were there to hear their Hogwarts talk.

Hermione sat back in her chair, a pensive look on her face. “This past year was a rough one. We had a Dark Arts professor who was pretty wretched, ineffective and cruel. Unfortunately, she exercised so much influence over the Ministry that Dumbledore was forced to leave for a while.”

“Yes, I remember hearing about that in the Prophet. I certainly hope she won’t be there next year!”

“I’m pretty sure she won’t,” the teenager grinned.

“Any idea who will be the professor this upcoming year?”

“No clue. It’ll make the sixth defense teacher I’ve had since I started there. The professor we’d really like to have back, probably the smartest one who actually knew what he was talking about, was a werewolf. That means a portion of the school, the Slytherins guaranteed for more reasons than one, would pitch a fit over his reappointment.”

“That’s too bad,” Dairine sighed. “I’d be happy to get a competent teacher, irregardless of lycanthropy or any other afflictions. Maybe I’d be a better witch then. As it stands, I’m only so-so at everyday household charms, but rather spiffing at spells that help tune instruments. Can’t do much else, though.”

“You’re not scared of werewolves?”

“The wolves themselves, yes, but not the man they are the rest of the month.” She shrugged. “Half-muggle. Open-minded muggle father. I can’t really hate someone for something I’d say just about 99 percent of them don’t want either. And my husband does a hell of a rendition of ‘Werewolves of London’.”

“You and your husband are both musicians, then?”

“I’m a music teacher. My husband is a retired musician turned pub owner/house-husband. But back to the real important things: Is Hogwarts still a good place to be?”

“Absolutely. There’s still no place like it in the world. It’s—“ Hermione shut up with the opening of the main door, and a muggle walking into the office.

“Tell you what,” Dairine said, getting a brainstorm. “If you can get permission from your parents, our pub is right down the bus route in Wells. Why don’t you come down to the pub tomorrow and give Alec a little taste of what Hogwarts is---“

* * *

“You did what?” I couldn’t help but blurt out.

“Exactly what I said. I invited Hermione to the pub so she could tell Alec all about Hogwarts, because I’m pretty damn sure she remembers it better than we do.”

“But…” I stuttered, trying to find just the right lie to explain my anger. I couldn’t really say that the chances of Hermione Granger associating me with my past incarnation which she had just seen a scant few months ago, were a lot stronger than I cared to admit.

“Will you calm down, Jack?” Dairine gritted out, carrying the pans with dinner over to the table. “It’s just an afternoon of talking, and I’ll be there to supervise.” I got the strong feeling that I was going to lose this argument, no matter what loony idea I came up with.

Throughout dinner it was my turn to be sulky. Maybe Dairine just believed I was being an overprotective father, and if she did, I wasn’t going to abuse her of the notion. I did have a tendency to be overprotective with Alec, but after what I’d been through, can you blame me? Protecting my son has become one of my main focuses in life, sometimes a little too much, granted, but at least it’s out of love.

True to form, Alec, Dairine, and Una ignored me and let me be moody. Let’s just say it’s not unusual for me to get in these moods.

After dinner, when I had retreated to the living room with a book, Hermione called to say that she while she could not come down to the pub tomorrow, in a few weeks she would be meeting some of her friends in Diagon Alley. They would be purchasing their supplies for school that day, and if they were game, she could meet them while she was there and tell Alec everything he ever wanted to know about Hogwarts. That sounded like the Hermione I knew. Dairine, who I love with all my heart, while she is always well meaning, does not always exhibit common sense (I think it’s a musician trait though, I’ve known too many musicians who are exactly the same way). Inviting a girl she’d just met to the pub wasn’t exactly sensible. Thankfully Hermione was being rational and keeping everyone just a little safer--and keeping my secret identity still secret, at least for now. Just before Dairine walked into the living room, I pulled my book over my head and pretended I was asleep.

“I know you’re not asleep,” Dairine said, flipping on the stereo. She’d invested in a flashy, state of the art muggle music system in order to feed the addiction, so to speak. At first glance our house looked very muggle. That’s usually the case with wizards’ homes these days, unless you’re living in Hogsmeade or in the middle of nowhere (or with my parents, come to think of it). There are some magic bits around, Alec’s broom, a few suspicious plants in Una’s garden, but all in all, unless you knew where to look, we appeared just like ordinary muggles. I was quite content with this, liking the privacy of it.

Una was a little disconcerted when she first came to live with us, being so used to magic in her everyday life. After she shorted out the electricity for the third time with a particularly potent cleaning spell, she got the hang of living in a muggle household. Minor magics and spells are okay, but for anything else, there was a nice secluded grove down the road a bit where the wizards and witches of the town went to work the big stuff.

Dairine crawled onto the couch between my legs, and draped herself over my chest. The complicated sounds of a Bach fugue played in the background, Dairine’s latest music of choice. Last week it was Led Zeppelin. “It’s okay to be nervous about sending Alec to Hogwarts. I’d bet anything you’re one of many parents having the exact same thought.”

“It’s a dangerous world out there,” I murmured, pulling the book off of my eyes. If this was the view Dairine was going to take, I was going to run with it. “If I could, I’d wrap him in cotton batting and shield spells, and keep him at home forever. But logically, I do know that we can’t keep him here. He’s itching to go away to school.” My concerns weren’t lies; I really was nervous as all hell about sending Alec off to school. Especially with the way the Wizarding world was now, I think they were justified.

“I know you are, love. I’m nervous as well,” Dairine sighed, rubbing her hand over my shoulder, and tucking her head under my chin. “But our boy is growing up, and as much as we’d like to shelter him, we can’t. We can make sure he knows as much as possible to make him as safe as possible, but anything beyond that and he’d probably hex both of us.”

“That’s my boy.”

“Speaking of protecting, do you remember us discussing taking Alec on a little holiday before he leaves for Hogwarts?” Dairine said, propping herself to look me directly in the face.

“Of course. I just made the reservations at the B&B yesterday.”

She nodded, then paused for a brief moment. “I was wondering if you could possibly teach me how to cast a Patronus before we left.” Before I could even formulate a response to that the words started tumbling out of her mouth. “I remember you saying once at the pub with the boys, and granted you may have been a little bit under the influence at the time, but you did say that you knew how to cast one, and with all of the dementors around the country right now, I was thinking that it would be a good precaution if we both knew how to cast one just in case so we can both protect, not just you.”

I looked at her for a few moments, trying to think. I hadn’t cast a legitimate patronus in many years, probably since before I had been tossed into Azkaban. My bragging that night had been just that, bragging, in the middle of a poker game with Ross McKinney, Owen Glendower, and a few other wizards from the pub. How else does one demonstrate their wizarding prowess than bragging about what sorts of complicated spells they can produce? The patronus I produced that night was a half-arsed version, with years of angst and lack of practice on top of it. But I still remembered what was behind it, and how to demonstrate the words and movements. And what was for a more noble cause than this?

“Okay, Dairi. I warn you, I’m not really a teacher, but I’ll try to the best of my abilities,” I said.

Dairine smiled, one of those wide ones that show just a little too much teeth, and leaned down to kiss me. “Thank you, Jack.”

Now this was pleasant. I pulled her down for another kiss, only to be interrupted by Alec’s “Oh, God, they’re at it again!” Such is life at the Boardman home.

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