Wednesday, July 30th, 2014. 6:05 AM.

  12 Grimmauld Place, Borough of Islington, London, UK

  The Daily Prophet on the Dining Table had enough Banner Headlines to fill the Front Page all by themselves. The pesky articles had to be relegated to the inside pages of the front section, which in consequence ended up twice as thick as usual. Ginny and her Portable Protean Printer had worked feverishly through the night, producing outlines for other reporters to write articles from. Which, of course, meant she would have had to to fact-check those reporters, and rein them in on speculation that would be more at home in the Quibbler. It probably would have been quicker to write everything herself.

  If it hadn't been for Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, Ginny might have had to actually duel some of her more enthusiastic co-workers. During her stay at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Astoria had been basically drafted as a proofreader and editor by the children, the House Elves, and the Blacks' paintings. It was work she was good at, and more importantly, work that could be done without physical stress. Her rapport with the full-size Protean Printer was rivaling that of Ginny with her Portable model. The absolute clouds of Pixies at her beck and call made her life easier, as well. They treated the concepts of Weight, Mass, and Gravity as things they had vaguely heard about, but wanted no truck with. When Astoria moved about in their midst, she seemed to have enough weight for safe traction, but not much more.

  She completely took over final edits for the Prophet, referring back to Ginny's original outlines, and purging all errata and speculative embellishment. It was not as if the subject matter was not unbelievable in and of itself.

  EXCLUSIVE: DAILY PROPHET BREAKING NEWS!

  AZKABAN ATTACKED BY QUIDDITCH REACTIONARIES!

  The Red Brigade of the Purple Gang Takes Over Ministry Prison!

  Inmates Reformed By The True Game Cruelly Murdered!

  (Continued on Page Two).

  EXCLUSIVE: DAILY PROPHET BREAKING NEWS!

  AZKABAN RETAKEN BY MINISTRY OF MAGIC LAW ENFORCEMENT!

  Ministry Aurors And Loyal Inmates Force Superior Numbers Out!

  Shacklebolt States ALL Inmate Sentences To Be Reviewed! NEW Management For Prison!

  (Continued on Page Five).

  EXCLUSIVE: DAILY PROPHET BREAKING NEWS!

  HOUSE ELF TRAFFICKING RING DISCOVERED, BROKEN UP!

  Decades-Long Shortage of House Elves Explained!

  Pure-Blood Families SELLING Elves To Secretly Work At Azkaban!

  (Continued on Page Eight).

  EXCLUSIVE: DAILY PROPHET BREAKING NEWS!

  WAR HERO KREACHER POTTER-BLACK TO HELP EXPLOITED ELVES!

  Soon-To-Come Book Promises Gentle Readjustment To Modern Society!

  Will Be Seeking Loving Families For Elves That Want Them!

  (Continued on Page Eleven).

  Finalised articles had been conveyed directly to Executive Assistant and Vice-Editor Grizel Hurtz. She had promised to treat any last-minute editors to a demonstration of Nominative Determinism, as exemplified by her surname.

  Ginny was drooping over her crossed arms on the table, futilely trying to read the final version of the story about Kreacher. Astoria was looking on placidly, having obviously given up on getting Ginny to rest.

  There was a double, no, a triple Crack! up in the hallway. Ginny straightened up, almost halfway to alert. Astoria looked at her in concern, but Ginny waved a calming hand.

  "Kreacher, is that you?"

  "Yes, Miss Ginny."

  "And did you bring company?"

  "Yes, Miss Ginny. Kreacher wished to surprise the Mistress and the Professor."

  "Well, bring your company down here, and introduce us. Mother Black is in the office conversion resting, and Phineas went to Hogwarts to go over some proofs in the quiet."

  Three House Elves came down into the Kitchen. Only Kreacher showed his usual poise, though he looked a bit tense, (at least to one who knew him as well as Ginny. The other two were obviously ill at ease, looking around the room, and at the two women with a bit of trepidation showing in their faces.

  Kreacher was in one of his working outfits, loose cotton pjamy-trousers and a sleeveless tunic of the same material. The two newcomers were not in the improvised mish-mash of re-purposed cloth usually worn by Elves as a sign of submission. Instead, both had been fitted out with an all-purpose smock that Kreacher and Lily had devised. It consisted of two rectangles of material, sewn together at the shoulders, and down the lower part of the sides, leaving space for head and arms to come through. It was too simple to really count as clothing, even in the mind of an Elf. But it was nicely hemmed and seamed, clean and comfortable, and perfectly functional. And if the aprons, which Kreacher insisted were necessary for an Elf's work, cinched it in to a more clothing-like silhouette, well, who could be faulted for that?

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Mister Scrope and I have met, of course," said Ginny politely. Scrope hunched his head down in acknowledgement. Ginny went on, "And your other guest is...?"

  Kreacher fidgeted a bit, then squared his narrow shoulders. "Kreacher wishes Miss Ginny to meet Malia... Black. Kreacher's Mother."

  ***

  Ginny shed all thoughts of weariness and need for sleep. There were so many ways this could go terribly wrong.

  "Well, it is an honor and a pleasure to have both of you in our home. I firstly wish to assure you of your welcome, and I hope you will consider yourselves honored guests, both now and in the future."

  As she had hoped, the effusive welcome had put Kreacher more at ease. The others were slightly stunned at the treatment, which might give Ginny space to lay some groundwork.

  "Mister Scrope, Miz Malia, may I introduce my friend, and your fellow guest, Miss Astoria Greengrass Malfoy" As hoped, the honorifics passed unnoticed as the elves realized they were in the presence of a member of not one, but two of the most distinguished Wizarding families. Astoria inclined her head in a graceful nod, as the elves bobbed their heads in reply. While Astoria was murmuring pleasantries, Ginny twirled a finger to summon a Pixie, give it instructions and send it on its way, all in bare seconds

  "Miz Malia, I do want to thank you in particular. Kreacher is an invaluable member of our household, and, we like to think, our family. And I am sure that much of what he does to make us so comfortable, he must have learned from you."

  Kreacher nodded emphatically. Malia seemed speechless, and kept looking from Ginny to her son, in clothes of all things, but still, running a house and serving a family? Seeds were being planted, whether she knew it or not.

  Just then, a high-pitched squeak penetrated the kitchen, apparently coming from upstairs. It was quickly muffled, but the sound of bare feet on stone, wood and carpet approached at breakneck speed.

  Lily appeared in the doorway, dancing from foot to foot in excitement, hands clamped firmly over her mouth. She darted over and hugged Kreacher hard, and started whispering excitedly. Her 'whispering' was only slightly less penetrating than the earlier squeak.

  "Oh, Kreacher, you found your Mum! I'm so happy for you! Introduce me! Introduce me! Introduce me!" She was almost lifting him off the floor in excitement.

  Blushing greyish-pink, Kreacher managed to disentangle himself to the point where only one of his hands was gripped in both of Lily's.

  "Miss Lily, this is Kreacher's mother, Malia Black. Mother, this is Miss Lily Luna Potter, Miss Ginny's youngest child." He straightened up to his almost three-feet of height. "She is Kreacher's best friend, and his business partner." Both these concepts seemed to boggle Malia's mind even further.

  "And this is Mister Scrope, an old friend of the Professor."

  Lilly managed to calm enough to produce a very credible curtsey. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." She then clapped her hands together. "Bert told me it's to be a surprise for Nana Black and Professor Phineas! Are we going to jump out from behind curtains and yell 'Surprise'? Or pop out of boxes?"

  "Actually, sweetie, Mum needs to discuss that exact matter with Kreacher. Would you folks like to see how 12 Grimmauld Place has changed since you lived here? I bet Lily would love to give you a tour. Then we can all have breakfast, and finalise our plans. How does that sound?"

  Lily's Squee! of delight was so high-pitched, it made Ginny glad Hagrid's pups weren't visiting. "Oh, you'll love it, because we love it, and Kreacher made it perfect for us!"

  "Be sure to use the Passages as much as possible, dear," Ginny said. "Show them how the museum is coming along. And stay out of sight of the Hallway and your new office space. Don't want to spoil the surprise."

  Lily rolled her eyes. "Duh, Mum. Oh, Mister Scrope, I'll bet you would like to see the Observatory we set up for the Professor on the roof. Where are the Berts? Mister Scrope, these are Herbert and Bertram Typewright, they're Cockney Pixies that live here and work with us. They can take you to the roof and answer your questions. Miz Malia, will you come help me pick out a pretty outfit for today?"

  Both House Elves were swept away by the small bundle of energy. The Berts were already leading Scrope to a current entrance to the Passages, whipsawing him with double-talk Pixish. Scrope looked very interested, seeming to understand them just fine.

  Malia looked at the earnest child, and something in her melted a tiny bit. Her hand edged out, and Lily took it immediately, beaming.

  The Elf said hesitantly, "Malia used to help young Mistress Halgerda with her clothes after Malia came here. Malia will try."

  "Oh!" Lily squeaked. "I bet she was a beautiful little girl, was she? She's so striking now in her painting, with the cheekbones and the dark eyes..."

  "She was!" Malia followed Lily toward the kitchen door, led by the hand.

  "And you have Kreacher's nose! No, I guess he has your nose, right? On you, it's cute and pert, but on him it's handsome." She 'dropped' into that penetrating whisper. "At least, that's what Cook tells me!"

  "OOHH!" said Malia, in the tone every mother uses when hearing such a confidence. She gave Kreacher a knowing look over her shoulder, as she and Lily disappeared into the hallway. Kreacher turned greyish-pink again.

  ***

  Ginny puffed out her cheeks with a relieved exhale. So far, so good.

  "Kreacher, take a seat, please, while we talk."

  Kreacher pulled one of the taller stools from the prep area, and clambered up. It put all their faces on roughly the same level. Ginny prepared to negotiate this minefield.

  "So, Kreacher, a surprise for your Mistress and the Professor, then?"

  Kreacher nodded, ears flapping. "When Kreacher told Mother and Scrope of the paintings, both wished to visit. Mother and the Mistress were very close when young, and often has Kreacher heard how the Professor missed Scrope. They will be very happy to..."

  "To?" Ginny hated to interrupt, but she had to head this off in a hurry. "To what, Kreacher? To see them come back from the Dead? That's what they will think happened. The last either of them saw of their old friends were the heads on plaques that used to line the hall. I know what I would think, if I didn't know what happened. Can you guess?"

  Kreacher's eyes had gone so wide, they looked ready to start from his head, and rebound off the far wall. "Dark Magic. Black Magic. Undead things from grave. Oh. Oh, no!"

  "No," agreed Ginny. "No, indeed. So we have to prepare Mother Black and Professor Black. Not a big surprise, but maybe get them ready for a little surprise?"

  Kreacher was still aghast at what he had almost done. "What? What can we do? What can Kreacher do?"

  "First, we share the story in the Prophet with the Blacks. Then we share that Great-Aunt Slave-Trader is suspected. Then you will find out what magic was used to counterfeit the heads, and we will share that." She smiled sadly at the House Elf. "We knew you wouldn't throw those... things away when we took them down. That's why we never asked you to do so." Ginny stared at nothing in particular for a moment.

  "Kreacher, I was going to ask you not to display the heads in the museum. I believed Lily was too young to understand that awful act. Now, though... I think the story should be told. The whole story, how an awful pretense covered up an even worse betrayal. And not just in the museum. In the paper, so all people will know how terrible some people can be."

  She sighed. "And then, when they are good and mad at Elladora..."

  ***

  Oh, 'mad' was not the word. Ginny listened, shocked, yes, but also in awe. Phineas Nigellus Black, Former Headmaster and Professor of Astronomy and Astromancy at Hogwarts School, was swearing in languages Ginny had never even heard of, and yet, was managing to make himself thoroughly understood in all of them. Simultaneously. He was leaning forward out of his painting, having the Berts, not dissect, but disassemble the fake House Elf head on the lectern in front of him.

  "A Bloody Gemino!" he growled. "And plaques at the top of the wall, where we weren't likely to examine them, which we didn't. She knew, damn her! She knew no one really approved, and she used us!" He threw up his hands in disgust. His usually milk-pale face was suffused with choler and color.

  Halgerda Black, on the other hand, had blanched from her pale cream usual, past ivory, and now looked as if she was carved out of bone. She was staring fixedly at Kreacher. Loyal Kreacher, Strong Kreacher. The only one who had stood by her in all her years of madness and grief, both before her death and after. And if he had died before her, the delusion and deception of the Family would have forced her... or someone...

  Ginny was following the emotions on Halgerda's face, if not the thoughts in her head, and decided that enough was much more than enough.

  "The only, only bright spot is that we finally discovered them. And now we can help them..."

  "By all the Gods, yes!" Professor Black interjected. "And we can make sure it never happens again! That gel, Hermione, isn't it? She can get teeth in some laws, damn those fence-sitting bas..."

  "Ahem." A gruff voice spoke from a little down the hall. "The Professor asked Scrope to remind him that such words are not worthy of his exalted position."

  All turned, (or leaned forward from their paintings), to see Lily leading two House Elves toward them.

  Lily raised their joined hands in gleeful triumph.

  "Surprise!"