Oliver Kent stood in the boys dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, shoving things into his rucksack, nervous with excitement.

"I can't believe you got out of a whole three days of classes," Wally said from his bed, where he was balancing his wand on the tip of his finger. "Can I go as your plus one?"

"Sorry," Oliver said, smirking as he shoved his Herbology textbook into the bag. "Besides, I'm not completely free and clear. I have to write like three papers that you lot don't have to do."

"Yeah, but in exchange you're going to the World Cup!" Dexter said from his own bed, where he was sitting on the edge, watching Oliver pack.

"And the wedding, which is the real reason I've gotten off," Oliver pointed out.

"Nonetheless..." Dexter said, shrugging. He turned to a book he had opened on the end of the bed, looking at a large chart of hand motions - sign language - that he was trying to learn. He started moving his hands about, but was getting easily frustrated when his fingers seemed to do whatever they wanted instead of the movements he was trying for. He sighed, frowning at the book as he tried to force his fingers to make the motions.

"Dex is right," Wally said, "Whether it's the real reason or not, it's still a part of the package deal."

Oliver tugged his Quidditch number jersey from the sack of laundry and sniffed it, then drew his wand and gave it a quick cleansing spell.

"That does not count as doing your laundry and you know it, Kent," Wally said in an accusatory tone.

"I'm sure Meg will give it a wash while I'm home."

Wally shook his head.

Dexter looked up from the book on his bed, "Are you excited they're getting hitched?" he asked.

"Of course!" Oliver said. "I'm really excited for them. And for my -- for the other lads."

"It's okay you don't know what to call them all," Wally said gently, recognizing the flash of frustrated confusion that crossed Oliver's face. "I mean, you knew Jaz as Edgar's older brother first, and Meg from 'round about here... then the other lads as your house mates... Now they're like your family... and that must be confusing."

"It is," Ollie admitted, "Quite actually."

"It's okay," Dexter nodded agreement with all Wally had said.

"I'm glad I have you lot."

"We're glad to have you too mate, of course," Wally smiled.

James was waiting in the Great Hall for Oliver after another flying lesson, though he felt this one had been a bit less successful than the first. Not because anything had gone wrong - quite the opposite, it had been quite a good one. The kids had done greatly and not one had suffered any malfunctions of the brooms. Which was to be expected since the school was newly outfitted with brand new broomsticks - so new that the kids had actually taken them out of their boxes for the lesson.

However, he hadn't figured out much of what to do for Sarah yet and Macy had spent the lesson showing her the various parts of the broomstick. James was frustrated every time he looked over to see Macy and Sarah talking in sign language and he sighed guiltily when Sarah had signed what Macy translated as, "Thank you, Professor Potter for trying."

The Great Hall buzzed with the lunch crowd to James's right as he loitered about, and he checked his watch as he glanced up at the stairs waiting for Oliver to come downstairs.

Suddenly there was a hand at James's shoulder and he turned to find Dumbledore. "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said merrily.

"Hullo," James replied.

"Are you staying to visit with us at the staff table for lunch today?"

"No, sorry, sir, just waiting for Oliver Kent. It's the Odair's wedding this week."

"Oh yes, I do recall approving him a few days at home for it. I do hope the wedding is just as spectacular as one could ever hope for."

"I have no doubt."

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and produced a bag of sherbet lemons. He popped one into hie mouth, smiling around it as it clicked behind his teeth. He stood beside James as several students walked past, talking lowly. A couple of girls giggled as they glanced James's way, though James didn't notice, he was too busy craning his neck, watching the stairs for Oliver. Dumbledore watched the students go into the Great Hall, chuckling under his breath. He turned to look at James. "Mr. Potter," he said.

"Yes?" James asked.

"I was wondering if you and Mrs. Potter had given and more thought to my request since we spoke on the subject?" Dumbledore rocked himself on the ball of his feet.

James licked his lips. He'd been hoping to wait until after the wedding to talk to Dumbledore about it, giving himself and Lily a bit more time to change their minds, should they wish to, but he couldn't very well refuse to answer and they had, after all, technically made up their minds. He turned to Dumbledore. "I spoke with Evans about it and she -- we reluctantly agreed that we may be able to help. Just this one time, mind. We're not going to make it a regular thing."

"Oh no of course not, that was never my intention at all, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore smiled.

"Very well, then. When should we see you about the... er, assignment?"

"I know you are very busy this week of course," Dumbledore said, "I thought perhaps after your next flying lesson. You could bring Mrs. Potter with you to the castle and the three of us will have a lovely little, private luncheon in my office and discuss the finer details of the... assignment."

James nodded, "Alright, then. That sounds like a plan. We shall see you then, then." He turned back to looking for Oliver. It was awful, he thought, how little conversation he could tolerate with the old man - however calm and jovial he seemed now, there was always flashing somewhere in the back of James's mind the look on Dumbledore's face - impassive and cold - when Regulus Black's ghostly form had asked why he was becoming more and more transparent.

But Dumbledore didn't take the hint. Instead of leaving, he hovered still, the stupid hard candy clicking behind his teeth. After several long moments, and still not a sign of Oliver Kent, James turned to Dumbledore. "Is there something else that you wished to discuss, sir?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I believe your boss at the Ministry - Mister Harry Underhill - he's been working on a very interesting case, hasn't he? Those awful werewolf attacks in Blackburn?"

James glanced at Dumbledore. He wasn't sure how much he was allowed to confirm or deny - after all, the case paperwork he'd filed had read confidential and, even without that bright red stamp across the folder, Underhill had certainly gone out of his way more than once to warn James about Dumbledore. James didn't say anything.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Potter, I've spoken at length about the cases with Alastor Moody," Dumbledore said, smiling tightly. He wasn't pleased James had refused to answer, that was evident on his face. 

James squirmed slightly. "What of it?" he asked.

"I was curious if he had you working on the cases at all with him?"

James shook his head, "I don't really work on cases, sir, I'm more of an... administrative assistant these days."

"I see, I see," Dumbledore mused. He hesitated, then said, "I should have known that he would have kept you apart from it, of course."

James tried very hard to keep the interest off his expression, but he couldn't quite do and after a beat or two, he turned to look at Dumbledore. 

"With Chase Volsung on the case..."

"That nutter werewolf hunter?" James asked. "The one that went after --" he glanced around, "--after Remus?"

"Yes, the very one."

"What's that to do with me, him working on the case? Of course Volsung is working on the case. That's what he does for a living and it's a werewolf outbreak."

Dumbledore said, "I must have misunderstood what I read in the Prophet, dear me, you must excuse me. They say the first thing to go is the mind in one's old age and I'm afraid it seems I've misremembered the details I read about."

"Sir?" James pressed.

Dumbledore hesitated, "Well isn't it the Ministry what's called it no coincidence that an outbreak of werewolf attacks in Blackburn is following the threat leveled by Mr. Black? I did think that I saw Mr. Underhill was working to keep them from reopening that case based on the sudden surge of werewolves being weaponized in the very area where the threat was made. But perhaps I've heard wrong."

James felt his cheeks pale. "Reopening the case?"

"Certainly if I was right you would know about it - and I doubt whether your boss, Mr. Underhill, should have you working on a case with such a personal aspect to it as that... I mean, personally, I should think you would be just the one to do the investigation, seeing as your interest might fuel your work, but that is of course only one way of looking at it and what do I know? I am not an auror!" Dumbledore smiled and clapped his hands together. "Oh and look, here is your small friend. Good afternoon Messer Kent, Messer Grant, Messer Cardwall." Dumbledore nodded his head at each of the three members of the DWO as they approached. "I shall see you next week, Mr. Potter. Do give my greetings to Mrs. Potter." He nodded to James and turned, walking away into the Great Hall.

"James, you sure you haven't got a couple spare tickets to the Cup?" Wally asked, winking and nudging him.

"I'm afraid I don't," James said with an apologetic look, "But I'll keep you lot in mind next time, hey?"

"Whoa, that'd be great," Dexter said, lighting up. "Thanks -- Professor." He signed these last two words as he spoke them, struggling to do the hand motions at the same time as he talked. "It's hard doing that," he commented.

"I'm sure Sarah will appreciate it," James said, then, knowingly added, "And Macy."

"Yeah?" Dexter grinned, "I hope so."

"I heard you got the school a load of brand new brooms, is that true?" Wally cut in.

"Yes, I did," James said.

"Man the school brooms are probably better than my own broom," Dexter said. "Good thing I'm a commentator and not a player at least."

"Not as good as Oliver's broom though, right?" Wally asked.

"Of course not - we want our star player on the best broom, yeah?" James grinned, and patted Oliver's shoulder.

Ollie grinned, "Yeah."

"Well, I'm starved. See you next week, Oliver," Dexter said, "See ya James."

"Bye Dexter," James answered, waving him off.

Wally hesitated, hanging back a moment. He glanced around, then turned to Oliver and grabbed his hand. "Hey, be safe alright? I'll miss you?"

James turned away to give the pair privacy.

"I'll miss you also," Oliver said, face flushing as Wally leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

"Remember what we were saying up stairs, alright? It's okay if it's a little awkward, you're still gettin' used to everything... But it'll get better and better and soon it won't feel so weird, you'll just be a family."

"I hope so," Oliver answered. Then, nervous, he pecked Wally on the cheek, too, and his face went rather scarlet. "Alright so I'll see you then, next week, right."

Wally nodded. "Alright."

"Bye."

"Bye."

James led the way across the grounds toward the gate so he could disapparate them away. They walked slowly over the grass and James pattled over small topics as they walked along. They were nearly to the gate before Oliver asked, "Is it weird I don't know what to call - Jaz - anymore?"

"Weird?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, "Like... do I call him Dad or Jasper?"

"Dadsper."

"James --"

"I'm sorry," James apologized, "Dunno what happened. My inner Sirius Black came out just then."

Oliver laughed.

James said, "Seriously though I reckon you call him whatever you're most comfortable with. I'm sure he'd answer to anything you wanna call him."

"But what ought I be calling him?"

James sighed, "It's hard, Ollie. I really don't know. It truly is something that's entirely up to you and Jasper, ultimately. And it may be something that what feels right now won't necessarily make sense in the future." He shrugged.

Oliver sighed, too, then, and said, "It's just - I don't want him to think that I'm not grateful if I call him Jasper, you know? I've sort of gone back and forth all summer. The other kids - they all made up their minds sort of quick. Eli and Nate and Michael just say Mum and Dad and Kevin, he's gone with Jasper and Meg for now, but yeah he says it'll probably change... and it's like, I find myself saying mum and dad 'round the little kids and I dunno even what to call them, like are they my brothers? friends?"

James took Oliver's shoulders as they paused walking and he looked into his face. "You're a family, whatever terms you give one another, because families are made out of love and that's what's going on there at the flat over the ice cream parlor. I don't doubt it for a minute. What you call one another isn't near as important as what you feel for one another and the way you're there for one another. Yeah?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah."

James smiled. "So call them what you're comfortable with. Just always remember - things don't need to be awkward when you love each other properly... just keep an open heart, an open mind... love him and he'll love you back and the complicated bits will work out if you always put the loving part first."

Oliver nodded again.

They set off walking once more, coming down a steep set of stairs that led to the gate. Once outside the grounds, James held out his hand and the pair of them disapparated with a great crack. Oliver found himself on a street in front of a big water fountain. He looked up into the statue overhead's face - Godric Gryffindor stared back. He smiled and turned 'round to see the Potter Cottage just a few paces away in the shadow of the church  across the road. It looked like home, with all sorts of climbing ivy and heavy purple flowers which clung on and hung down from vines that clung onto the face of the house. Large bushes on the inside of the fence rustled in a light breeze. "C'mon," James waved for Oliver to follow him.

Oliver had been expecting to disapparate to Diagon Alley. "I thought I was to stay with my - with - with Jasper?"

Jame smiled, "You are, but I thought you'd want to change before the party."

"What party?"

"Well Jasper's stag on, of course!"