"If he's your Law-wizard of Record, can he also be mine?" next he asked.
Sirius shrugged and replied, "I can't see why not."
"I'm writing him a letter," explained Harry. "I'll ask him myself. Which brings me to my next question, how do I address him and what's his business address?"
Surprised, Sirius replied, "Hang on a minute and I'll get his business card." Then his mirror got put down face up on something - Harry could now see nothing but ceiling in the mirror - as he heard his godfather rummaging through parchment.
He was back a few moments later as the mirror got picked up again.
"Here it is," said Sirius looking at something 'off mirror'. Edward Tonks, Law-wizard. 15B Diagon Alley. London."
Harry quickly wrote that down on a scrap of parchment before he returned to looking at the mirror. "Thanks for that, Sirius."
"Anything else?"
"No, I think that's it," replied Harry.
"My turn, then," said Sirius. "I know about Dumbledore's attempt to get into the Granger's home. I've let Madam Bones know I'm adding the weight of the House of Black to pressing charges against the old man for trying that."
"Really?" asked Harry, surprised by both pieces of information. "Thank you. I'll give that information to Wendell and Monica."
"Actually, I'd like to do that myself," said Sirius. "I'd like to come and visit you early this evening, just to make sure for myself that everything's alright. But, if I don't bring Andi with me this time, she'll skin me alive."
"Come and bring her," Harry immediately replied. "Wendell and Monica have already told me you both have permission to come over to visit. They both also know cousin Andi's a Healer."
"Got a time for me?" asked his godfather.
"Ummm... be here at... 6.15pm. And expect both of you to stay for dinner," he replied. "Dress is casual slash office work clothes. They don't stand on ceremony here."
Sirius nodded and said, "I'll let her know."
"If there's a change to that, each of us will immediately let the other know in advance, right?" asked Harry.
"Yeah, pup," replied Sirius. "Will do."
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Nope! See you at 6.15. Mirror off!"
Transferring his scrawl of Ted Tonks's business address to his letter to the man, Harry made sure it was dry before setting it aside with the other letter waiting to be sent.
However, if Sirius was coming over with cousin Andi, he'd just hand it to her and ask her to pass it on.
Then he went looking for Wendell and Monica; or either.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
As the two hour mark since she'd sent her note to Trelawney passed, Marchbanks waited a further fifteen minutes. On exactly the fifteen minute extra mark she summoned a house elf.
"Where is Sybill Trelawney, at this time?" she asked.
"She be in her tower, Lady Headmistress," the elf promptly replied.
"Is she up and dressed?"
"Yes, Lady Headmistress."
Indicating the chair sitting ten feet in front of her desk and facing her, set there for when Trelawney was supposed to have arrived on time, she firmly ordered, "Go get the woman and pop her into that chair. Right now, please."
"Yes, Lady Headmistress," replied the elf with a short head bob before it popped away.
A few moments later, Sybill Trelawney appeared in the chair before her desk and promptly fell out it. Then vomited on the floor.
Marchbanks frowned at her and vanished the vomitus.
"Get up, Miss Trelawney," she firmly ordered.
Trelawney groaned and slowly moved to her hands and knees before using the chair to try and stand up. She wobbled a fair bit and, not even letting go of the back of the chair until the last moment, dropped into it.
"W-where am I? W-why am I here?" she querulously asked, peering around through her overly large and thick spectacles
The reek of sherry was like a miasma about her.
"You are in my office, having been brought here by a house elf on my specific instructions," replied Marchbanks. "You are drunk."
"Sherry helps me to open the inner eye to the wonders of the second sight," the witch slurred. "Without it I am unable to provide true depth to my predictions, the cards are not as clear, the crystal is murky."
"I do not care," said Marchbanks. "It is a breach of the code of conduct for Professors to be inebriated during school hours. Personally, I believe it is a breach of personal ethics for a professor to ever be so effectively intoxicated.
"As such, I do not even need to give you a warning for your conduct. You are fired. Your employment as a Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is immediately terminated for cause."
As Trelawney sat there, stunned and now feeling even more sick than a few moments ago, Marchbanks called for a house elf.
"Yes, Lady Headmistress?" asked the elf as soon as it popped in.
"Please go up to the Divination Tower, pack up Miss Trelawey's personal effects into a trunk and bring it back here," she directed. "Miss Trelawney is no longer a staff member of Hogwarts."
"But... what am I to doooo?" whimpered Trelawney. "Where am I to go?"
"You claim to be a Seer," said Marchbanks. "Employ your gift and figure it out."
The elf was back a few seconds later with a tan trunk with brown trim and an overly large handbag.
"Is that all of it?" asked Marchbanks.
"Yes, Lady Headmistress," nodded the elf.
"Thank you," she said before turning to face Trelawney again.
Indicating the trunk and bag she said, "There are your personal effects. You may use my floo to leave. I do not want you staggering like a drunken prostitute through the corridors of this school on your way out."
Heartbroken and sobbing, Trelawney left via the floo about fifteen seconds later. Her destination was the Leaky Cauldron.
"Good riddance," muttered Marchbanks.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
When Harry went downstairs to the main floor he couldn't find anyone, but did hear the sound of a television showing a football match from down on the lower ground floor.
Heading down there, he found Wendell watching a game on the telly in the media room. One of the aurors was also in there and looking at the telly in some level of shocked confusion.
Harry quietly asked him, "Not seen a television before?"
The auror blinked once before turning to Harry. "Seen one, yes," he replied. "Not one as big as this, though. Or seen this game Doctor Granger's watching."
"It's called football," said Harry. "It's also called 'soccer' in places like the United States - MaCUSA. It's one of two national sports the British muggles focus on and is about par with the magical world focusing on Quidditch.
"This one is played across the winter half of the year; while the other, cricket, is played across the summer half."
"Oh, bloody hell, Ref!" Wendell suddenly exclaimed, quickly leaning forward in his armchair, staring at the telly. "That was a blatant trip! Yellow card, the wanker!"
When the screen focused more closely on the referee having a verbal go at the so-called tripper, it was to see the man suddenly snatch a yellow card a little bigger than a playing card out of his breast pocket and hold it up showing it to the sideline.
"Yes!" exclaimed Wendell. "That's what I'm talking about!" Then he leaned back again.
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