The First Epilogue
Five years and ten months post Mars landing:
Charlie smiled when Jim sauntered into his office. Retirement and marriage had been good to the other man, he looked ten years younger than he had while in active service.
"Here for a report on my goddaughter's young man?" Charlie asked with a grin. "I assume my goddaughter is eager to hear how young Harry is doing."
"That and to let slip a few things unofficially," Jim agreed. "How is the lad doing."
"Top of his class at Dartmouth and the source of a large number of rumors," Charlie laughed. "Some surprisingly close to the truth."
"Oh?"
"Suspected of being the product of an English mother and a foreign father, suspected of being an orphan with a tragic background, suspected of being a former child soldier. Balkans is thought most likely since the lad's accent and age is wrong for most of the better known wars. Also expressed an interest in going through the Commando Course if the opportunity arises."
"Will it?"
"We are far more aware of what he is doing in his time away from the academy than he is comfortable with us knowing," Charlie said blandly. "What we are aware of is enough for orders to have been made to the effect that everything possible is to be done to keep him happy and feeling benevolent towards Her Majesty's Government. If he wants to waste his time running around being miserable then we will be happy to arrange it."
Jim nodded. "That seems like a perfectly reasonable course of action. I trust that steps have been taken to ensure that there will be no training accidents. Either real or arranged."
"His people are taking care of that," Charlie stated.
"Wonderful. As to the other matter."
"Yes?"
"Have you given any thoughts to retirement?"
"Yes," Charlie agreed sourly. "I had expected to stick you with my job and be out of this place three or four years ago. Any interest in coming back?"
"None."
"Pity."
Eight years and two months post Mars landing:
"So we're agreed?" Harry stated. "It's time to reveal our Mars colony to other nations on Earth."
"We're agreed," Phil stated with a wide grin. "The colony is self sufficient and large enough to sustain a population several million more than what we currently have in the Alliance. The only thing we were waiting for was a bit more leverage. Threatening to burn their cities if they objected to our independence is all well and good but it's not the sort of thing that builds stable relationships. Neville, if you would."
"I think I've discovered a way to cure disease using mostly mundane methods," Neville stated. "While there was magic used in the creation of the plants used, we believe that we can explain that away by stating that it is genetic engineering to avoid breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
Harry nodded. "Which disease?"
"Uh." Neville blushed a deep red. "All of them. Or at least all I am aware of."
Harry stared at his friend for a few heart beats. "Good work, Neville. This also provides a neat segue to the next item on our agenda; breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
Breaking the Statute
"This is Speedbird flight seven two . . . the fuck," he trailed off. The pilot's eyes bulged when he saw what appeared to be an old steam engine matching his pace. "Copilot, take command of the aircraft," he said calmly. His eyes remained locked on the train and he absently noted a cute blond girl waving cheerfully at him.
AN: This was one of the earliest scenes I wrote for Watch.
Addition by Sergey Tsvetkov
Two days later The Sun published photos of UFO that looked like 4-6-0 steam engine. Several experts had gone mad after seeing the negatives and acknowledging that they were not fakes.
The photos were taken by some of the passengers of Boeing-777 in the middle of it's flight from New York to London.
Twelve years and seven months post Mars landing:
"What did you three do?" His newest three research assistants stared at him blankly.
"Pardon?"
"Al. You, Nick, and Penny have been summoned to a meeting with the head of the security office. I was told to pass on the fact that the exits are sealed. Damn it, Al, what in the hell did you three do?"
The three researchers gave a collective sigh of resignation.
Nick ticked off a couple fingers. "How long would you say we've been here? Two weeks? Sixteen days maybe?"
"Two weeks and three days," the manager growled. "Are any of you going to explain what's happening?"
"Did anyone have the third day of the second week?"
Al pulled a notebook out of his pocket and flipped to the second page. "Penny had the fourth day of the second week. She's the closest without going over."
Nick grinned. "And you said we wouldn't get past the second."
"Age and experience beats snot nosed youth yet again!" Penny crowed.
"Damn it, someone explain what's going on!"
"Yes," an unfamiliar voice said dryly. "Please do."
He had a bad feeling about what he was going to find when he turned around. That feeling was confirmed when Harry Potter himself stepped into his field of view.
"Couldn't even change your names? Really?"
"Would it have made any difference if we did?" Al asked.
"Yes, actually. I'd have been down here last week if not for the fact that I was sure you would've at least gone by your middle names."
"Hah!" Penny laughed. "Told you!"
"You did," Al admitted. "I trust you've been well, Harry?"
"Almost as well as you three look," Harry said dryly. "Pretty good trick to come back from the dead. Wouldn't you agree, Professor?"
"Yes, well." Al blushed. "I'm sure you understand how much easier it is to go about without being mobbed or asked to attend boring and unimportant meetings."
"Convinced them to let you use their stone?"
Al snorted. "I never made one before because I saw no need to put off the next great adventure until now, not due to lack of ability."
"What changed your mind?"
It was Nick that answered. "How can you expect us to go to the other side after making public your research station on Mars or teasing your faster than light drive."
"Who could resist that?" Penny agreed. "We'd just finished setting our last affairs in order when the kid showed up with a story about a base on the moon and another on Mars. What would you have done in our shoes?" she demanded.
"Fake my death, use alchemy to get younger, and apply for jobs that would take me into space," Harry suggested.
"Exactly!"
"Figured as much," Harry laughed. "So, you three happy working your way up or do you want to jump straight to the fun stuff?"
"Harry," Al said with a twinkle in his eye. "The fact that we made it so easy on you should be all the answer you need."
"Figured that too." Harry turned. "Come on, we've just gotten a sample from the Jupiter probe that you're going to want a look at."
"Oh?" Al was clearly intrigued. "Of what?"
"We're pretty sure it's metallic hydrogen."
"Is it stable at room temperature?" Nick asked intently.
"It is?"
"Lead the way, my lad, and hurry!"
"This way." Harry knew he should be happy at the fact that they'd secured the services of three of the greatest minds in the last several centuries.
"Dibs on the first look!" Penny shouted.
"You can't call dibs. It's not our sample." Al's smile was predatory. "It's Harry's sample so he should be the one to decide who gets the first look. It's that right, Harry? And who better to get the first look than the man who saw you as the grandson he never had?"
"Normally I'd agree with Al," Nick interjected. "But don't you think he lacks the maturity needed to be the first one to examine such an important sample? It really should go to the most experienced researcher you've got."
"Three years is nothing at our age!" Penny growled. "Harry, don't listen to my husband or the brat. I know that you're a gentleman and a scholar and I know that as a man of honor, you understand that calling dibs is sacrosanct."
Harry rolled his eyes, not two minutes and it was already starting. "We have three cubic yards of the stuff and expect more by the end of the day. I've been able to pry two cubic feet of the stuff away from the girls for the three of you to play with."
"With the promise of more to come?" Al asked hopefully.
"With the promise of more to come."
"Walk faster, my boy, walk faster!" Al demanded. "You're wasting valuable research time."
Yup, Harry reflected to himself, he should be happy to have secured the services of the world's three best living alchemists.
"Well said, brat!" Penny agreed. "Hurry up!"
Maybe he could dump them on the girls?
"While crudely put, I have to agree with my lovely wife," Nick offered. "You are walking far to slowly."
Or the goblins? Maybe he could appoint someone to deal with the three for him? Someone expendable? Like an intern or something? A sudden thought sparked. "I've got a couple other things you might want to take a look at after that," Harry said. "Not as interesting as room temperature stable metallic hydrogen, but we've got several projects that might... catch your fancy that we're readying for public release
"Like what?
"Well, for example, Neville thinks he may have come up with a way to make something similar to the elixir of life using completely mundane ingredients. Technically it just allows for the maximum life expectancy your body could have.
He hated to throw his friend under the bus like that, but Harry was feeling just a bit jealous at how much fewer 'interesting accidents' Neville had to excite the researchers lately. Harry decided that arranging for Neville to spend a bit of time with the most annoying researchers that Harry had ever encountered would do a lot to help him get over that jealousy.
Twenty Five Years post landing:
The Interview 01
Ron didn't spare much attention to the reporter as she walked into his office and slid into the chair across from his, he was far too busy keeping an eye on his many offspring to ensure they weren't doing anything that would cause them to come to harm.
"A pleasure to meet you, my name is Cindy Brown, Alliance News Network. Thank you for agreeing to an interview, Commissioner Weasley," the reporter said brightly. "Let me congratulate you on your recent appointment."
"Thank you," the war hero said calmly. "Do you really want to do an interview on my appointment as the Quidditch Commissioner or is this another attempt to get an interview on the war?"
The reporter blushed. "My editor suggested I write an article exploring how your war record was responsible for your recent appointment and suggested that I might ask a few more questions about the war to help with the background since we're coming to the twenty five year anniversary of the announcement of victory and the founding of the Alliance."
"I figured," Ron grumbled.
"If you knew that I was here on false pretenses, why did you agree to an interview?"
"Because Daughter number two asked me and they all have me wrapped around their fingers and they all bloody know it." One of the children in the room giggled prompting a suspicious glance from Ron. "Mum said girls were easier, I'm not sure she was telling the truth."
"The history books say that you were instrumental in the recovery effort after the Battle of Hogsmeade and that if it weren't for your leadership, many more lives would have been lost. Can you comment."
"The history books are a load of shi-" he glanced at the children. "Uh, garbage. Even the ones that were written by people that were there. Harry would be the first to tell you that none of us knew what was going on, none of us had any grand plans, and none of us-" he paused when a pair of twin girls climbed into his lap and proceeded to get into a fight over which got to sit on which side. Ron automatically puts his arms around both and hugged them, causing the two to cuddle up to him which ended the fight. "Not one of us knew what we were doing at the time. We just got lucky."
"Then, in your own words, could you tell me what happened?"
"I didn't give some grand speech to convince the Harpies to go back to Hogsmeade with me, I'm pretty sure that was thought up by some PR flack. I got news that there's been an attempt on my best mate's life and I couldn't think of anything but to get back as fast as possible to help where I could. Mandy told me that I wasn't going without her and the rest of the team said we weren't' going alone. The owners agreed and we all went. Don't know if the other teams got word of what we were doing or they got the same idea but they all started trickling in not long after we got there."
"What about the reports of your brilliant leadership? They say that you took control of the Quidditch teams and personally commanded the relief efforts."
Ron glanced down at the girls in his lap and lowered his voice after noting that they'd fallen asleep. "They say a lot of things. I was an errand boy and a messenger at best. I went to Bones and I went to Harry's people and I went to Hermione's Da's people and I went to the townspeople and I asked them what they needed and then I went to the teams and told them who needed what. That's about it. I wasn't some grand commander like the history books make me out to be, I was a dumb messenger running back and forth trying to make sure the right people talked to the right people and that no one died that didn't have to. That's all. You want a hero then there were plenty to chose from that day but I wasn't one of them."
"I see." She made a note about how modest the hero of the relief was, downplaying his own role in favor of giving credit to others. "What about the report that you collapsed on the third day?"
"I was out of shape. I make sure to exercise now so that won't happen again."
"They say it was because you didn't sleep for three days."
"They can say whatever they like," Ron stated flatly, not denying or confirming anything. "I say it's because I didn't exercise enough and because I had a terrible diet."
"I see." The reporter made a couple more notes. "Do you mind if I ask an off topic question about the birth of the Alliance?"
Ron sighed in annoyance. "One."
"They say that it's an example of Harry Potter's foresight and political genius. Do you agree?"
"No." Ron scratched his chin. "I wouldn't be surprised if Harry was involved, but it wasn't his plan. Harry doesn't think like that. He'd have either killed everyone in the Ministry that was likely to be a problem and taken it over or he'd have ignored them and dared them to try to do something. Same with Hermione, she'd have either ignored them until they annoyed her too much and then sent a bunch of those piloted golems of hers to politely ask them to stop." He laughed. "You don't want to know what she'd have don't if they didn't aquiese. Luna would have likely followed Hermione's lead but who knows, Luna's always hard to figure out. Bones would have worked from the inside to change things for the better. I suspect Phil Granger was the guiding hand behind it all, but I don't know for sure and I have no desire to find out."
"You weren't involved?"
"Why would I have been? I'm a broommaker. I do my very best to stay out of politics," Ron laughed. "I've got a seat at the table if I want it but why in the hell would I? Hermione and Luna are the smartest people I know and they do their best to dump everything political into Harry's lap, why in the hell wouldn't I do the same?"
The Interview 02
Cindy arrived on the Longbottom grounds aside the infamous vengeance pond and took a few moments to collect herself before starting up the footpath to the manor house. The Quidditch Commissioner had not been what she'd expected. She wondered if the infamous hero of the relief force would be anything like the towering figure in her imagination.
The elves met her at the entrance way and led her to the famous Longbottom greenhouses where the hero himself was seated at the table in a clearing with three well dressed ladies. She paused for a few heartbeats to enjoy the sight. The place was enormous, rare tropical plants went on as far as the eye could see all being tended to by an army of house elves being overseen by a lone human gardener. It seemed that the rumors of space expansion magic were true. She wondered if the rumors that the greenhouses were connected to the infamous domes of Mars were also true?
"Neville Longbottom I presume?" she introduced herself to the man at the table. "I'm Cindy Brown, Alliance News Network, thank you for agreeing to an interview."
"You presume incorrectly," the man said with an amused smile. "Neville, the reporter's here!"
"Hmm?" The gardener glanced up, rose to his feet, made a show of wiping his hands off on his apron and walked towards the table.
"Harper," one of the women spoke up. "If you would?"
One of the elves snapped his fingers and the gardener, Neville Longbottom, was suddenly clean.
"You're the reporter?" Neville asked in a deep calm tone of voice.
"I am," Cindy squeaked, feeling off kilter from her mistake. "Cindy Brown, Alliance News."
"A pleasure to meet you." Neville nodded to the people seated around the table. "Permit me to introduce my family. My Gran, Augusta Longbottom. My mother, Alice Longbottom. My Wife Juliette Longbottom. And my father, Frank Longbottom."
"A pleasure," Cindy stated, giving her best curtsy.
Neville snapped his fingers and two more chairs appeared at the table. "Please, have a seat," he said, pulling a chair out for her.
"Thank you." She pulled out her notepad. "Thank you for agreeing to an interview with me, Mr. Longbottom."
"Harry will only grant interviews to those that call him either 'daddy' or 'uncle harry' and then only for school projects and the rest of us have mostly followed his lead," Neville stated calmly.
Juliette laughed. "It's had the effect of dramatically raising the quality of history instruction at institutions of learning attended by our children."
"Not to mention having more than one eight year old cited as a source in a prestigious history journal," Neville agreed.
"So why did you agree to an interview, sir?" Cindy asked.
Neville snorted. "You don't know? It's because of your connections."
"My connections, sir?"
"My likely soon to be daughter in law asked me to give you an interview because you're one of her friends."
The other three occupants of the table perked up and Juliette pounced on his statement. "She said yes?"
"She hasn't been asked yet," Neville replied. "Hopefully our eldest has more courage than I did at that age."
"You had plenty of courage," Juliette protested.
"I didn't tell you how much I cared about you until I was certain that I was about to die," Neville disagreed. "I sincerely hope that our eldest will not have to face similar circumstances before he worked up the nerve to propose."
Cindy cleared her throat. "Sir, if I may interject. You led the attack that broke the attack on Harry Potter."
"That." Neville raised a finger. "Was duty, duty is only what is expected of one. Courage is the ability to go beyond."
"Well said," Augusta stated calmly.
Juliette just sniffed in distain.
"But you aren't here to get a lesson on duty verses courage," Neville continued. "You are here to interview me on the small part I played in the battle. Please ask your first question."
Thirty years post Mars landing:
Theremin's heart was beating a mile a minute as she stepped through the portal and set foot, for the first time, on Mars. This was it, this was her big chance to make something of herself. It'd been a long hard slog but she'd finally had her transfer request to the Granger Combine accepted.
An older goblin was there to meet her, he was dressed in a clean but faded pair of blue overalls with a well broken in brown leather tool belt. It was almost a mirror of her own outfit save for the fact that hers was nearly new.
"Do you have your tools?" the older goblin asked.
"I do, senior technician?" she said unsurely, not wanting to make a mistake with his title. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a white canvass tool bag.
"Senior technician will do," he agreed. "You are?"
"General Engineering Technician fifth class Theremin, sir."
"Come with me," he ordered, turning and walking towards an unmarked door.
Theremin hastened to follow. They went through a maze of galleries before arriving at a small workshop filled with no more than a dozen technicians.
"Based on your name I assume you specialize in electronics?" the senior technician asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm a qualified machinist as well but that is not where my talents lie. I am much better with a soldering iron."
He waved towards a corner of the room. "Show me."
"Sir?"
"Make something."
"Yes, sir. What shall I make?"
"Whatever you want," the senior technician said calmly. "Something easy, something difficult, something completely original. Anything your heart desires to craft is what I want you to craft. You have as much or as little time it takes to do the job properly."
"Yes, sir." She scurried towards the corner of the room and was amazed by how comprehensive the parts store was. The drawers must have been connected to some vast warehouse because all she had to do was think of the part she wanted and the labels would change and the drawers would fill with whatever she needed. Theremin got to work.
She wasn't sure how long it was before she got back to the senior technician, as much time as it had taken to do the job properly she supposed.
"What is this?" the senior technician asked.
"A pocket watch, sir," Theremin replied.
"Is that all it does?"
"It is, sir."
"Why did you choose to craft a pocket watch?" the senior technician asked calmly.
"Because I heard that our lady purchased one for the Warmaster when they were young and that it was that watch that spiked her interest in engineering," Theremin answered honestly.
"You heard correctly," a human female voice stated from behind her.
Theremin turned to look and was shocked to see the Fabricator General herself entering the shop. The young goblin froze, unsure of what to do.
"Is this the new technician, Sprocket?" the Fabricator General asked.
Theremin's head whipped around in shock to stare at the senior technician.
"It is," the senior technician, Sprocket the First Technician, agreed. "She does good work. I think she'll make a fine addition to your shop."
"What's your name?" the Fabricator General asked.
"Th-Theremin, my lady," she choked out through dry lips.
"I'm Hermione. Please feel free to call me Hermione. Welcome aboard, Theremin."
Forty Nine years and eleven months post Mars landing:
The Wall
Ackerley wasn't sure what to think when his Head of House informed him that his grandmother would be pulling him out of class for a Hogsmeade visit. It was uncharacteristic for the normally serious woman to condone anything that might have a negative effect on his education.
She was waiting in the Headmistress' office when he arrived, looking more like his da's elder sister than an old woman. Some magicals chose to look their age, thinking it gave them gravitas, but most took advantage of the treatments marketed by Longbottom Pharmaceuticals to look their youth.
"You're looking well, Acorn," his gran said, giving him a once over. "How are your studies doing? Well I hope."
"Quite well, grandmother," he said formally. "I had some trouble with Ancient Runes at the start of the year but I believe that I have overcome them."
"Wonderful. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?"
"Uh . . . rocky road."
The woman gave a wide warm smile. "Excellent choice. Come with me." She rose and walked out of the Headmistress' office, leaving him to run to keep from being left behind. The woman slowed her pace once they reached the great hall and barely said a word on the way to Hogsmeade, seemingly content to point out the odd point of interest and comment on how they'd either changed or remained the same since her time as a student.
"Is the ice cream shop still two streets down and on the left?" his grandmother asked as they breached the town limits.
"Yes, grandmother."
The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Do you know if this is enough to buy two cones?"
"I believe so, grandmother."
She handed him the money. "Lead the way. Order two cones of rocky road ice cream when you get there. One for you and one for me."
"Yes, grandmother," Ackerley agreed.
They arrived at the ice cream shop and the woman behind the counter gave his grandmother a nod and set about preparing their order before he'd had a chance to give it.
"Come with me, Acorn," his grandmother ordered after she'd received her cone. "I was in my third year when it happened." His grandmother walked out of the shop and took a left down the street. "My friends and I went to Hogsmeade. The first thing we did was get ice cream. I got a rocky road, my favorite." She paused to give him a smile.
"You have good taste, grandmother," Ackerly stated.
"You are correct, Acorn," she said warmly. "We decided to explore the town. One of my friends had heard about a little shop down this way that sold snacks and we were determined to buy as many as we could to tide us over until our next Hogsmeade weekend."
They rounded the corner and came to an earthen wall covered in flowers that completely blocked all traffic from going any further. Several people were already there, each holding an ice cream cone in their hand.
"That's when they arrived," his grandmother's voice hardened. "Death Eaters, terrorists. One of them looked at me and asked if they had time to defile me before they killed us. Said it would be a waste not to have a bit of sport before they killed me, said it would be a waste. The leader suggested they stun me and bring me back with them, made a joke about seeing how long I'd last before I broke." She spat. "That's when Professor Sprout arrived. She fought like a woman possessed, the filth didn't stand a chance against her." She put her hand on the wall. "If we'd have been a couple years older we might have been able to help. If she hadn't had to protect us then she would have been able to get all of them and would have been able to hunt down another group of the bastards. But we weren't and she died."
"What . . . what happened?" he prompted.
A woman holding a vanilla cone spoke up, "they saw that they couldn't beat her so they attacked us instead. Professor Sprout stepped up and blocked every spell; Some with shields, some with summoned objects, and some with her body. She told us to run and she raised that wall." The woman sobbed. "They found her after the battle, slumped against it. She killed every one of them so they couldn't follow us and she died with a smile on her face."
A woman with a chocolate cone spoke up. "We brought every one of our children here on the anniversary of what happened when they hit their third year and we've started bringing our grandchildren now that we have them. We want you to know what happened and we need you to understand what we all owe to Hogwarts' greatest professor. Harry Potter gets a lot of credit, well deserved credit, for what he did during the Battle of Hogsmeade but he'd be the first to tell you that he didn't do it alone."
His grandmother spoke up. "This is why I am so insistent that you do well in your studies, especially Defense, Acorn. I might have been able to do something if I'd have been a better student and maybe Professor Sprout would have survived. I don't know." She sighed. "It's a horrible feeling, Acorn, one that I have done my best to ensure that none of my children and now grandchildren will never experience. I realize that I have been strict with you and I'm sure that you've heard that I was strict with your father and his siblings before you. I hope that now you understand why."