Sunday, July 6th, 2014. 2:00 AM.

  Hogwarts Castle, Scottish Highlands, Great Britain.

  The Great Hall at Hogwarts was abuzz with activity. Harry didn’t believe that he had ever seen so many Aurors in one place at the same time, not even counting auxiliaries. I don’t think there are that many desks in our bullpen at the Ministry, he thought. Oh, well. Magic, I suppose. Best get this bedlam under control. He moved to the front of the dais that usually held the staff tables.

  “Your attention, please,” he said in a loud voice.

  Apparently not loud enough. Everyone ignored him. He tried again.

  “YOUR ATTENTION UP HERE, PLEASE!”

  Nothing. He sighed, and looked down, (well, more like over), at the giant hound that had stationed himself at his side all through the wee hours of the morning. Harry was sure it was mostly from affection, but, hey. A pup can never be sure when a roast might appear, could he?

  “Direfang, if you would be so kind?”

  Hagrid had a slightly wicked smile peeking out through his beard. “Aye, boy. Gi’e ‘em a bit of a wuff, loike.”

  Direfang came to all fours, and bared his teeth. The growl in his chest grew and grew until the flames of the candles floating free in the air were quivering. The crowd quietened, as people looked around for the source of the sonics, and, in fact, sub-sonics, that they were feeling. It was as if their entire bodies were bass drums being pounded at ten beats per second. Direfang opened his massive jaws, and, as Hagrid had requested, WUFFED.

  Taken just as a physical event, it was impressive enough. Hair and loose sheets of parchment flew about, as did wizard and witch hats for those old-fashioned enough to be wearing them. The sound left ears ringing, and also popping from overpressure.

  But it wasn’t just a physical event. The boarhound/wolf cross had a full measure of his mother’s magical nature. The bark went past their ears, and through their brains, all the way down to that primitive little bundle of nerves and synapses just above the top end of the spine. And it triggered, hard, the ancestral memory of what it meant to be PREY.

  A complicated shudder went through everyone in the room, (even the two who were expecting it).

  Harry spoke into the absolute stillness, saying first, “Who’s a good boy?!” Then, straightening up and facing the room. “And you need to be good boys and girls, as well. I’m about to brief you on what little we know about what is going on.”

  Seeing a couple of mouths about to open, Harry shouted, “STOP!” Everyone froze. Harry pointed at the tables at the front of the Hall. “Sit!”

  Grins broke out as the crowd sorted themselves onto the benches.

  Once they were sorted out, Harry said firmly, “Now, Stay!”

  Once the chuckles died down, Harry swept his gaze across the group. He grinned.

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  “Who’s some Good Aurors? Yes, you are!”

  He put aside the sickly sweet fake voice, and spoke in a normal tone. “Have a treat.”

  That was the signal the house elves down in the kitchens had been waiting for. The occupied tables filled with pitchers of Butterbeer, tea, water and other drinkables. Huge platters of finger sandwiches, mini-bangers, pickles and sliced fruit took up most of the table space, with just enough room for multi-level trays of puddings. Harry took up a mug of Butterbeer from the table that had appeared between Hagrid and himself. He held it up in the air. Some one noticed him, and yelled, “A Toast!”

  Other chimed in, until the whole company were holding their drinks high, chanting, “A Toast! A Toast! A Toast!”

  Harry roared, “All right! All right, I’ll give you a TOAST!” Looking down the Great Hall, he could see where the huge doors to the Kitchen were cracked open, with multiple pairs of big eyes trying to get a look.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, Aurors, Auxiliaries, and Distinguished Guests, I give you the Best Cooks, The Best Housekeepers, and the Bravest Fighters in all the United Kingdom and Ireland, unanimously Voted Best Employees by Every Graduating Class for the past Fifteen Years! I give you Our Hosts, the House Elves of Hogwarts!”

  The cheering was loud and exuberant. The Charge of the House Elves had become legend. Harry yelled down the Hall, “Come out and take a bow, guys! Come on!”

  The house-elves started trickling out in ones and twos. The bolder ones came out first, then lost their nerve and tried to sneak back, or hide behind others. There was a bustle at the door as it was pushed farther open. An officious squeaky little voice began hectoring the reluctant, pushing them out, and then haranguing them to line up in neat rows, and stand up tall, and for goodness sake, straighten out your apron. Once everything was to her satisfaction, Winky marched up and took the spot reserved for her in the front row. Harry surreptitiously wiped a little moisture from his eyes.

  The elves were all dressed in crisp, white kitchen uniforms, with trousers or skirts as preferred. But all of the elves had splashes of color somewhere on their outfit. There were house pins, and accents in house colours, gifts from grateful students. Winky was also wearing the blue hat given to her by her last master, Bartemius Crouch, Sr. There were also small military-looking medals hanging from ribbons on many of them, awards from the Battle of Hogwarts. These elves stood a little taller, and were getting envious side-eye from some of the youngsters.

  Someone down at the tables, (Harry thought it was Ron), yelled, “Three cheers! Hip-hip...”

  “HOORAY!”

  “Hip-hip...”

  “HOORAY!”

  Hip-hip...”

  “HOORAY!”

  The cheers crashed out, and Harry saw some of the elves were having to dab at their own eyes.

  Winky waited until the cheering had died down a little, then stepped forward to speak. Her little voice somehow cut through the babble, high and clear.

  “We thanks our Honoured Guests for their kind words. We hopes you knows the Elves of Hogwarts are always ready to welcome you, no matter the day or hour of your visit. Please enjoys your food and drink, and if you needs anything, just ask.”

  Harry noticed someone near the front stir. “Ah-ah, Ewan! Whiskey is for after the operation!”

  Ewan Ward settled back on the bench, grinning unabashedly. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Hagrid innocently eyeing the still-raining clouds through the magical ceiling. His big hand was casually sliding his massive tankard behind his broad back. Harry also noticed that all three pups had new roasts, dwarfing the ones Harry had handed out. And that each dog had a very young house-elf, (two for Direfang), sitting astride their neck, scratching them behind the ears.

  Winky spoke again. “We wishes out Honored Guests good...” She hesitated. ..morning.” She raised her voice. “Staff! Render.... Courtesy!”

  At this, each elf wearing trousers put the lower part of their arm across their waist. They bowed over the arm, not excessively, but respectfully. Each one wearing a skirt bobbed a very well-done curtsey. They then turned and exited in good order, to the applause of their guests.

  As the door started to close behind them, another elf, not Winky, squeaked loudly.

  “Three cheers for Mister Harry, Defender of House-Elves! Hic-hic...”

  “HOORAY!”

  “Hic-hic...”

  “HOO..!” The door closed and shut the rest off.

  Harry knew he was blushing a little, but he soldiered on. “Get your plates loaded, get settled, and I’ll start the briefing.”