Gregory hadn't been at Hogwarts in five years, and honestly, he wouldn't mind if another five years passed before he stepped on the grounds again. The last time had been during the Battle of Hogwarts, a frantic memory of fire and racing adrenaline. He'd managed to not think too much about that last day at Hogwarts, preferring to think of happier days on the Inquisitorial Squad if he had to think of Hogwarts at all. The castle held a lot of history for him, and he was not pleased to be standing in front of its gates.

He clutched his work bag a little tighter in his hand and frowned a little deeper as he watched Filch lumber toward the gates.

"About time someone showed up! I Apparated here ten minutes ago!" Gregory scowled at Filch.

Filch didn't reply but glared at him as he opened the gate just wide enough for the taller man to squeeze through.

"Headmistress says you're to go to her office before you go in the lake." Filch said as he locked the gate. "Says the beast might be more than you can handle."

Not even remotely reassured by this charming parting remark, Gregory didn't respond, but instead turned and began the long walk up to the castle. Although the Dark Lord had been defeated for five years now, security at Hogwarts was still as tight as its pre-battle days, and Apparition still impossible on school grounds. That was fine with Gregory; Apparating gave a sick feeling in his stomach.

The Headmistress had contacted his boss a week ago to discuss the squid problem. It seemed the giant squid was making trouble, more than usual, even going so far as to drag a first year out of the boat on the way to Sorting. Magical creature control usually fell under the jurisdiction of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but the bureaucrats had contracted Owen's Beast Solutions for this case, most likely to shift blame in case the squid had to be terminated. Giant squid were protected under law but certain circumstantial exclusions existed. That Granger had started a grassroots magical creature welfare revolution with her S.P.U.N.K. or S.P.A.W.N. or whatever. Gregory was well aware that they'd be extremely unhappy if something happened to the squid, no matter how homicidal it was.

And so here he was, only a month on the job and already expected to know how to do something about a rogue squid without maiming or killing it. Not two hours ago, Mr. Owens had dropped a thin dirty file folder on his desk and barked, "Take care of it!" Inside the folder were a few water stained and yellowed pages that looked be about seventy years old. They mostly seemed to be reports of known territories of giant squid in the Northern Hemisphere and with a note scribbled at the bottom: "Long lived. Irritable." Other than this, there were newer pages detailing the giant squid's legal protected status and copies of relevant legislation. All in all, not much that would be helpful to him. He figured the best knowledge he had came from his own school days: Don't go in the water and stay away from the squid.

Unfortunately, Gregory couldn't think of any way to handle this without on dry land and at a safe distance. He hoped that it was just injured and that he would be able to immobilize it and turn it over to someone else.

A short time later, he was standing in the front courtyard of Hogwarts, slightly winded and more than slightly ill-tempered. The walk from the gates to the castle proper was longer than he remembered, and his bag felt like it was pulling his shoulder off. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked around him. Hogwarts didn't seem much different than it had been in his days, despite having almost been destroyed not too long ago. A couple of the statues were gone, but the grass had grown back, or as much it could grow back, considering how much the students trampled it. Judging by the number of students in the courtyard, he must have arrived as classes were changing. He scowled at a few tiny first years who bumped into him, more interested in looking at what appeared to be a dragon figurine than watching where they were going, but they didn't even look up at him. Had he ever been as small as them? Gregory doubted it.

Shifting his pack a little higher on his shoulder, he walked across the courtyard and up the stairs in the Front Hall. Not much looked different here either, but it felt different somehow. Smaller.

Maybe I got bigger, Gregory thought. Or maybe I'm just older.

Gregory stopped on the stairs to watch the staircases move above him. Being back here wasn't as bad as he'd imagined it would be. For one thing, he wasn't a student anymore, and for another, he hadn't seen any familiar faces. Gregory didn't think about his old classmates much. Too many of them were dead, missing, or imprisoned, or at least too many of the ones he'd actually kind of liked.

Come to think of it, his days at Hogwarts, especially the earlier ones, hadn't been so bad. Sneaking out of the dormitory at night with Malfoy and Crabbe, spying on the female prefects in their bathroom, playing Quidditch in the late afternoons. Some of the best times of his life.

His wistful reminiscence was broken as he heard a polite cough from behind him. When he turned, he saw a young man in teacher robes standing on the step below him. He looked familiar, but Gregory couldn't place his face. He was too young to have been a professor five years ago, but possibly they had attended Hogwarts around the same time.

"Are you lost?"

"No, I'm on my way to the Headmistress's office."

"Oh, well it's the other way. I was headed there myself when I saw you up here. Mind if I walk with you?"

"No, that's fine."

Gregory and the young teacher walked down the stairs together. Gregory still couldn't shake the feeling he knew the man somehow. He was tall with a long face but wore an easy grin. Maybe he had been a year ahead of him?

"So what brings you to Hogwarts?"

"The squid. I'm with magical creature management. We heard it's been making trouble here recently."

"Oh yes, the squid. I can't remember that it's ever been this moody. I had a lesson planned on aquatic plants, but I had to reschedule it because I was afraid the squid might try to grab another student. Any ideas as to what's wrong with it?"

Gregory shrugged as they started up the spiral staircase.

"No, but I'll get it sorted."

"Well, good luck to you. That thing is smarter than it looks."

They stopped outside the door, and the young professor rapped on the door.

"Minerva?"

"Yes, come in please."

Gregory followed the professor into the Headmistress's office. He'd been in here quite a few times before, during Umbridge's stint as head of the school, and while it looked much the same, excepting the absence of cat plates, it seemed brighter.

"Ah, Professor Longbottom, how is the construction of the new greenhouse coming?"

"Slowly, I'm afraid. I met our solution to the giant squid problem on the way up. I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology."

Neville extended his hand to Gregory who clasped it after a second, with a feeling like his stomach had shriveled up and dropped like a stone. This was Longbottom? He hadn't recognized him, and since Longbottom had held out his hand like a friend instead of hexing him into a pile of dust, he obviously hadn't recognized Gregory either.

"Oh, I think you two have met before, Neville. Mr. Goyle here was in your class at Hogwarts."

Neville dropped his hand like he'd been burnt and his grin, which had so easy before, disappeared.

"It's Clemente now, Headmistress. Gregory Clemente."

"I see. Mr. Owens mentioned he would be sending an alumnus, but I didn't recognize the name. I just have a few things to go over before you start. Neville, I'm sorry, but could we talk about the new greenhouse during lunch?"

Neville had been staring at Gregory, but at the Headmistress's question, he turned and gave her a tightlipped smile.

"Of course, Minerva. I'll bring some of the sketches."

Neville turned on his heel and walked out the door, shutting it a little too loudly behind him.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Clemente. I don't know what you've been told of our current condition, but in brief, the giant squid has been for the last three weeks unusually agitated and aggressive, and I would like this taken care of before it drags another student off. I'm sure you're aware of the delicacy necessary in this situation."

Gregory, feeling large and awkward in the spindly chair in front of McGonagall's desk, nodded and cleared his throat.

"I was briefed" emphasis on the 'brief,' he thought, "on the squid's protected status, but I wasn't given much more than that. Is there any idea as to what started it off?"

"Unfortunately, no. Professor Longbottom speculates the unusually warm weather might have upset the squid's ecosystem and cause it to become irritable, but past warm autumns didn't seem to trigger any aggression."

"Well, maybe it's just getting older. Any idea of how old it actually is?"

"There have been mentions of it as far back as 80 years, but the records are all of an adult squid. I have no idea how long it takes for a squid to reach maturity, but I feel it's safe to say it is at least 90 years old."

That old? Maybe it will just drop dead in the next few minutes, and I can get a pint in Hogsmeade, he thought.

"Well, I'd best get started now and not waste anymore daylight. I'll do the best I can."

Gregory stood up and gave a little nod to the Headmistress. She had been civil to him, considering past events, and he felt he at least owed her the same civility.

"Oh, one last thing. S.P.E.W. is sending a representative just to be sure all compliances are met. Will that be a problem for you?" McGonagall tapped her parchment with a long quill as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"No, I guess not. So long as he doesn't get in my way."

"She, actually. Another old classmate. Miss Granger will meet you beside the lake."

McGonagall went back to her paperwork but set down her quill when she heard the door close. Gregory Clemente, né Goyle, was not what she had expected to walk through her door. He looked much older than his 22 years, still tall and imposing in stature, but his posture was dismal, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. She would have expected the arrogant and stupid boy of half a decade ago, not a broken-looking man.

Hermione leaned back against the low stone wall that meandered down the slope of the lawn in front of the lake shore. The day was warming up, but it was still autumn in the Highlands, and it felt nice to sit sheltered from the wind. The man from Owen's wasn't on time, but she found she didn't really mind too much. Normally, she'd be either at work or making wedding plans, and she idly wondered which she'd rather not do the most. Coming to Hogwarts for a day, even for work, felt like a holiday and one she sorely needed. Later, if she had time, maybe she could have tea with Neville and visit some of her old haunts. With her head back and eyes closed, she smiled a little.

Be nice to pretend I was eleven years old again, Hermione mused.

She must have dozed off a little because when she opened her eyes, her timepiece read 10 in the morning. Sitting up, Hermione patted her hair into place and looked about for the man from Owen's. Mr. Clemente, maybe?

Her timing was fortunate because as she looked over the wall up at the castle, she saw a tall man picking his way carefully down the slope. She raised her hand to him and called out.

He kept his head down, watching his feet, and it wasn't until he reached the wall that he looked up. He was young, maybe a little older than her, with loose black hair and large pack slung over one shoulder. Hermione stuck out her hand.

"Granger. Hermione Granger. I'm here on behalf of S.P.E.W."

Mr. Clemente took her hand and nodded.

"Gregory Clemente."

"I hope you didn't have too much trouble coming all the way up here to Hogwarts. It's bit out of the way of ...well, it's a bit out of the way of everything."

Hermione reached out to take his pack as he crossed the small wall, but he didn't hand it over to her. She let her hand hang in the air a moment before dropping it.

"Nice weather we're having for this time of year. Have you ever been to Hogwarts before?"

Mr. Clemente was over the wall and making his way down to the shore. Hermione tried to keep up with him without trotting after him like a dog. He didn't seem to be a very friendly man.

"Yes, I went to school here."

"Really? I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn't place the name. When did you graduate? It must have been before the Final Battle."

He stopped abruptly and set his pack down, and Hermione narrowly avoided bumping into him.

"I didn't graduate. We were in the same year, but you obviously don't recognize me. Had a different name and a different life then. You knew me as Gregory Goyle."

Hermione's chest felt tight and she felt the presence of her wand against her side.

"We weren't school chums or anything like that. So do you mind if I just get to work and you stay out of my way?"

He picked his pack back up and continued marching to the shore.

Hermione just stood above him and stared.