Chapter 6
Angry Muggle Parents
Sunday afternoon
After lunch with the Greengrasses, Harry asked Dobby to take Hermione home. Then Harry asked Dobby to take him back to Gringotts, where Harry intended to contract for new wards to cover Potter Manor.
At Gringotts, Harry contracted for the same kind of wards that 12 Grimmauld Place had: Ward the place heavily, then add a Fidelius Charm on top of everything else. However, Potter Manor, unlike Grimmauld Place, would not have Albus Dumbledore as its Fidelius Charm's Secret Keeper!
But then Harry gave Ragnok a strange job requirement: They were not to take the final steps of warding Potter Manor until 13th July. (Elderly Harry had told young Harry to make special plans for 12th July, when Dumbledore likely would pay Harry a visit.)
But speaking in Gringotts of Dumbledore...
Harry said to Ragnok, "The Black ancestral home at 12 Grimmauld Place is under a Fidelius charm, with Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper. The trouble is that I have received," Harry paused, "a divination that Dumbledore will die on 30th June of next year. I'm told that when the Secret Keeper dies, everyone who has been told the Secret of the property's location, himself becomes a Secret Keeper?"
Ragnok replied, "Correct."
"One of the people who knows the Secret is Severus Snape, Dumbledore's supposed spy on Voldemort. Once Dumbledore dies, Snape knowing the Secret is dangerous. How do I prevent fifty Death Eaters from Apparating into Grimmauld Place before Dumbledore's body is even cold, with only Grimmauld Place's secondary wards keeping the invaders out?"
Ragnok said, "Relax, Lord Black-Potter, you're not the first property-owner worried about a sickly or dead Secret Keeper. Here's what Gringotts can do for you..."
On top of the existing Fidelius Charm on 12 Grimmauld Place, now the goblins would place a Parseltongue Notice-Me-Not Charm. This would work only as a temporary measure, once Dumbledore died, but the Parseltongue Charm would not be needed for long. Once the goblins were told that Dumbledore had died, they would tear down the old Fidelius Charm; with Harry's help, the goblins promptly would put up a new Fidelius Charm with Harry as Secret Keeper. At the moment the new Fidelius Charm took hold, everyone who knew the old Secret would forget it, except for Harry; and pieces of parchment with the old Secret written on them would be turned unreadable. For someone to know the new Secret (even though it would be word-for-word, letter-for-letter the same as the old Secret), Harry would need to visit this person and would need to tell him or her the new Secret face-to-face.
When Ragnok finished explaining, Harry said, "So there is no reason to abandon Grimmauld Place next year as a safe haven, just because Snape is a traitorous git."
Ragnok nodded. "No reason at all."
A minute later
Harry was standing on the front steps of Gringotts; he called for Dobby to come pick him up. But when Dobby pop-appeared, he brought a note from Hermione.
Harry,
Mum and Dad are off work today, and they offered to let me hang out at home with my new friends. Daphne is already here.
Don't remind Daphne that she was bitten by the etiquette-bear in reverse: She put her hand out, palm down, expecting Dad to kiss her knuckles, but he looked at her oddly and shook her hand instead.
Dad asked me to tell you that he has a tape of "Little Shop of Horrors" that you can watch with us if you've never seen it. He says it's his favourite movie.
Hermione
Spending time with the Granger family was phrased as an offer, and perhaps to Hermione it was an offer. But Harry recognised the note for what it was: a court summons.
A half-hour later
In the Grangers' kitchen
Harry glared at Dan Granger. "What you don't realise, sir, is that I would take crap for my decision, no matter which way I handled this!"
Dan snapped, "How gormless do you think I am? How could you be criticised for taking my precious daughter as your one and onlywife, like normal men do?"
Harry almost said Talking like Vernon Dursley won't win your argument against me, Granger, but decided against it. Instead, Harry said, "Because wizarding-world Purebloods are inbred—"
"Rubbish!" said Daphne.
"—and they don't even realise they have a problem. Or if they do realise it, they think they can wave a wand or brew a potion and make the problem go away. But the Purebloods do have a problem, and it's only getting worse."
Daphne's blue eyes now were gunmetal-blue. "And what 'problem' do we Purebloods have, Potter?"
"Inbreeding, and a lack of genetic diversity." Daphne's eyebrows wrinkled; clearly she did not know the term. Harry continued, "In Muggle royals, inbreeding led to blood problems and the 'Habsburg lip.' In Pureblood wizards and witches, inbreeding—too few people being in someone's ancestry—leads to squibs being born."
Daphne said, "I don't believe you. My family are Purebloods, and neither Astoria and I are squibs."
"But maybe one of your grandparents has a brother or sister whom nobody talks about, hm?"
Daphne briefly looked panicked, as if Harry were about to reveal a shameful secret.
Dan Granger demanded, "What does any of this have to do with you supposedly getting criticised for not committing bigamy?"
Hermione replied, "Dad, Daphne, I researched the Potter family's genealogy and I found out two amazing facts. First, Potters are real trendsetters when it comes to marrying Muggle-borns. Lily Evans wasn't the first Muggle-born to marry a Potter, by any stretch of the imagination, and I won't be special either. Second, the House of Potter has never had a squib in it—no other Pureblood house can claim this."
Daphne looked stunned.
Harry took over the narrative: "But if all future Potters and all future Blacks have Hermione and I as their ancestors, I won't have increased genetic diversity, I'll have decreased it. And when future Purebloods realise they brought the 'squib' problem on themselves, they'll blame me for doing what was easy instead of what was right."
Emma Granger commented, "My, what a long-winded explanation this was. At my age, I've learnt that when a man gives me a long-winded explanation, he's usually arguing why I should either drop my knickers or hand him pound notes."
Hermione said, "Mum! Harry isn't like that."
Dan said, "Really, Hermione?" With exaggerated piety, Dan said, "I am the Lord of two Pureblood Houses, so my grim duty to the Wizarding World requires I take two wives. I must do my duty, no matter how pleasureless I find this toil."
Emma said to Harry, "Have you considered that if you marry her"—Emma chin-pointed at Daphne—"you can never again show your face in the regular world? Come to the attention of the police for anything, even driving with a burnt-out brake light, and you'll be arrested for bigamy."
Daphne said, "Excuse me, but I thought my world was the 'regular' world. As for the bigamy charge, Harry would present to the Muggle Aurors a paper simply stating, 'This man is allowed this bigamous marriage by royal dispensation.' What, you people think this problem never has come up before?"
Dan said, "Here's what I know: You, Harry Potter, are a trouble-magnet, and you are the enemy of an evil man with evil followers, who all hate people like Hermione. It would be safer for Hermione if she had nothing to do with you. You supposedly need two wives? Marry another Pureblood, not Hermione."
Hermione said, "Dad, you're horrid!"
Daphne sneered, "It is obvious, sir, that you would never be Sorted into Gryffindor. As for making Hermione 'safe,' you can't. If Hermione walked up to Harry in the Great Hall, slapped his face and yelled, 'I hate you and I never want to see you again,' I can think of three Death Eater wannabees at Hogwarts who still would want to hurt your daughter. Hermione is safer near Harry than she is when she's far away from him."
Hermione said, "Good." She glared at her father. "Because I don't want to slap Harry's face and to tell him that I don't want to see him again."
Harry thought, Things could be worse. Hermione's parents could be coming at me with dentist's drills.
Meanwhile, in Greengrass Manor
Cyrus Greengrass was puzzling over the mysterious behaviour of Daphne, Harry and Hermione just hours ago.
• On Friday, Daphne had been totally uninterested in Harry Potter as a husband; but now Harry was Daphne's only choice; and what's more, Daphne was convinced that she and Harry would make a happy marriage together.
• Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger likewise were convinced that Daphne the Slytherin Pureblood, and Harry the Muggle-raised half-blood, would make a happy marriage.
• All three teenagers acted like they were unwillingly keeping a secret.
After several minutes of Cyrus trying to crack the mystery, he recalled a throwaway remark of Daphne's from yesterday evening: "By the way, Harry suspects that Dumbledore has put an owl-redirect on his mail, so send all correspondence by elf-mail, not by owl."
Cyrus wondered, Has Daphne been secretly messaging Harry? If she was, it would be by elf, not by owl.
Cyrus summoned Bluegrass and asked him, "Have you been carrying messages between Daphne and Harry Potter lately? Or has Harry Potter's elf been carrying messages between him and Daphne?"
What Cyrus expected Bluegrass to say was to mention the invitation today, delivered by Harry Potter's elf, for Daphne to spend hours casually visiting with Miss Granger's Muggle family. But how Bluegrass actually answered was this—
"Master Cyrus, Friday evening, Mistress Daphne asked Bluegrass to deliver to Harry Potter a short parchment that was folded once, a long parchment that was pleats-folded, and a big Muggle envelope that had a book inside it."
Cyrus repeated, "Friday evening, you said?" He thought, This was right around the time Daphne told me that there was no boy whom she was interested in marrying. Then Cyrus asked Bluegrass, "Did you try to read what you were delivering? Or did you happen to see any of the parchments' words?"
Bluegrass replied stiffly, "Master Cyrus, Bluegrass would never open and read anything that Mistress Daphne intended as private."
Cyrus apologised to his offended Head Elf.
Mollified, Bluegrass continued, "The only other things that Bluegrass can tell you is that the long parchment was addressed to Mistress Daphne and was in her handwriting; and the sealed envelope was both addressed to Harry Potter and was sent by Harry Potter, written with a handwriting that Bluegrass has never seen before. The long parchment had the smell of a Copy Document spell on it; but the Muggle envelope had a strange spell-smell, unlike any that Bluegrass has ever before encountered."
Cyrus apologised to Bluegrass again—Miss Granger's startling politeness to house-elves had rubbed off on the Greengrass lord—then Cyrus dismissed his house-elf. Cyrus stood there and thought some more—
More mysteries to consider. Why would Daphne write a long letter to herself—then send a copy of the letter to Harry Potter? Why would Harry Potter send himself a book?
A minute later, Cyrus gasped. An explanation for everything that was mysterious about Daphne's and Harry Potter's behaviour had just jumped into Cyrus's head. It was an impossible explanation, most definitely, but it fit all the facts.
A half-hour before sunset
The visit with the Granger parents was not pleasant for Harry, but still, the time spent at Hermione's house was ten times more enjoyable than the same amount of time spent with the Dursleys.
Dobby returned Harry back to Privet Drive before sundown—
—which was good, because sundown was when Alastor Moody took over guarding Harry. Moody's magical eye instantly would have spotted that Harry was not in his bedroom. Harry did not want Dumbledore to have any puzzles to figure out, or any surprises, before 12th July.
Once Dobby had popped Harry back in his bedroom, Harry walked downstairs and into the back garden, again using the pretext of pulling weeds.
Tonks Disillusioned herself and said, "Wotcher, Harry!" As she approached, she tripped over a tree root.
Harry and Tonks talked for several minutes. She did not rebuke Harry for being gone for hours—but then Tonks, alone of all of Harry's Order "prison guards," probably would not have said anything, even had she known. Harry did not tell Tonks that now she could Apparate directly into 12 Grimmauld Place whenever she wanted to.
Meanwhile, in Greengrass Manor
Bluegrass the house-elf informed Cyrus that Harry Potter's house-elf had popped Daphne into her bedroom. A minute later, Cyrus was knocking on Daphne's bedroom door. As soon as Daphne opened the door, Cyrus asked if he might step in.
Cyrus asked Daphne how her visit to the Grangers had turned out. He got an earful.
Cyrus was startled to learn that Miss Granger's parents had not been slavishly grateful to have a Pureblood witch in their midst. Cyrus was even more startled when he was told the Grangers' grievances, and realised that these Muggles were right (at least some of the time) to feel angry. Cyrus too was unhappy that his daughter must spend her entire life sharing her husband with another woman.
But the time soon came for Cyrus to achieve his true purpose for this visit. Looking his daughter in the eyes, he calmly asked, "May I see the long letter that you wrote to yourself, please?"
Daphne's face went white. But she did not argue.
Daphne walked over to a wall of her bedroom, knelt down, and removed the long parchment from a box on the floor that was either Disillusioned or Fideliused. Daphne walked back over to her father.
Just before Daphne handed over the pleats-folded parchment, she said, "This was on my pillow Friday after dinner. I believe it all. I think it's all true."
Cyrus had read only the first line when he thought, My "impossible" theory is true!
A minute later, Cyrus said to Daphne, "I had a bad feeling about Samuel Flint, but I couldn't think of a better husband for you. I apologise to the version of you who wrote this letter."
Seconds later, Cyrus choked. " 'Harry Potter killed Voldemort'? She wrote this so casually!"
Soon after that, Cyrus asked, "This 'Hemoglobin Repair Potion 46' will actually reverse Astoria's blood-curse? Where is the recipe?"
Daphne made a vague gesture in the direction of the invisible box by the wall.
Cyrus asked, "Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom, who are they to you?"
"Hannah is a Hufflepuff and Neville is a Gryffindor. They're both in my year, so they're too young to be parents, much less grandparents."
Soon after, Cyrus said, "The letter was right about Harry Potter being elevated to Lord Black and Lord Potter without him being told. And what's this about Susan Bones?"
Daphne huffed. "How she looks is unfair to every other girl in our year, Father."
Cyrus refolded the long parchment, handed it back to Daphne and watched as Daphne put the long parchment back inside her invisible box. By the time Daphne had walked back to rejoin her father, Cyrus had figured out what he wanted to say about this shocking letter—
"I will keep this letter a secret, and I will keep secret my guesses about what 'young Harry' has been told by his future self. Also, 'young Harry' has my full support, and you marrying him has my full support."
"Thank you, Father," Daphne said, as she threw her arms around Cyrus and hugged him.
Cyrus was caught totally by surprise. Purebloods, after all, never hugged.
Chapter 7
The Will Is Made Public
During the 5th July session of the Wizengamot
5th July was the first Friday in July
Albus Dumbledore, acting here as Chief Warlock, asked the Wizengamot seat-holders, "Is there any new business?"
Lord Lucius Malfoy raised his lit wand and was recognised.
Malfoy stood, then looked around the chamber. "A week ago, I was present at what was supposed to be the will-reading of Sirius Black, the most recent Lord Black. During this reading, Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, you were present, even though I never heard your name mentioned as a beneficiary. During the will-reading, at times you made use of a Silencing Charm on the will-reader, so that parts of the will could not be heard by those of us in the room!"
Malfoy paused, and responses like "Outrageous!" and "That's illegal!" were heard, both by seat-holders and in the visitors' gallery.
Malfoy continued, "I noticed that as soon as the will-reader started to speak Harry Potter's name, you silenced the goblin. I demand to know, Chief Warlock Dumbledore, why Harry Potter's inheritances must be kept secret, even from those of us who were in the room!"
"You tell him," someone said.
Malfoy continued, "Of the parts of the will that you chose to let us hear, Chief Warlock Dumbledore, no mention was made of who would succeed Sirius Black as Lord Black or Lady Black."
"We need to know this," several seat-holders said.
"If the succession was in fact not mentioned in Sirius Black's will, then the rules of primogeniture would apply, making Bellatrix Black Lestrange the new Lady Black. But if Sirius Black left the Lordship to Harry Potter, then either Harry Potter is already Lord Black, or Harry Black is the Black Heir and shall become Lord Black when he turns seventeen."
Someone in the visitors' gallery said, "Oi, Bellatrix Lestrange and Harry Potter, what a difference!"
Malfoy said, "During this past week, I have waited for the Daily Prophet to write something about the Sirius Black will—because I am sure it would be newsworthy! Alas, my wait has been in vain. This morning, I went to the Department of Records, to cheque on the Sirius Black will. I learnt that the will, which was read a week ago, still has not been released to the public, by order of the Chief Warlock. What are you hiding, Chief Warlock Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he calmly asked, "Are you speaking now merely to publicly rant about me, or do you have a point to make, Lord Malfoy?"
Malfoy replied, "I move that the will of Sirius Black be released to the wizarding public—immediately and completely, without restriction."
Dumbledore calmly asked, "Is there a second to this motion?"
Dumbledore was startled when Cyrus Greengrass, who usually was no friend of Lucius's, seconded the motion.
Dumbledore said, "Thank you, Lord Malfoy, you may be seated"—even though Lucius looked like he had more to say.
Dumbledore then said, "I now open the floor to debate."
But Dumbledore did not immediately recognise any of the seat-holders who now were holding raised and glowing wands. Instead, Dumbledore said with grave sombreness, "I have kept part of Sirius Black's will from being heard, and I have kept all of the will from being released, because otherwise it would place a very special young man in great danger."
Dumbledore truly expected that this was all he would need to say, in order to persuade the Wizengamot to seal the Sirius Black will. But within minutes, Dumbledore was given an unpleasant surprise: Only Arthur Weasley rose to speak against Malfoy's motion, and only Arthur Weasley voted against the motion.
By noon, the Wizarding World Network was enthusiastically discussing what the newly emancipated Harry Potter might do in his future, now that he could act as Lord Potter and Lord Black.
For Dumbledore, this was a right inconvenience. But he could see bright sides to all this—
Fortunately, Dumbledore thought, Harry doesn't own a wizarding radio, nor do his closest friends Hermione and Ronald. I'm sure I can convince the Daily Prophet to sit on the story for at least a week. So I'm sure I can keep the news from Harry for a while. Also, since it will be years, if ever, before Harry claims his seats in this chamber, I may vote two proxies now, not only one.
Friday afternoon, in Knockturn Alley
Lucius Malfoy, whilst involved in activities of which Narcissa would not approve, ran into Samuel Flint. Samuel was two years older than Draco, and had just received his N.E.W.T. scores and finished Hogwarts.
"Lord Malfoy, good afternoon."
"Mr Flint."
Lucius asked for politeness's sake, "How are things with you?" In truth, Lucius did not much care.
Samuel made a rocking-hand motion. "My job interviews with Lord Bulstrode look hopeful. On the other hand, a betrothal that I was quite looking forward to, shan't be happening."
"Oh? A betrothal with whom?"
"Daphne Greengrass. Besides looking beautiful, she also is the Greengrass Heiress. But Lord Greengrass ended betrothal negotiations soon after starting them, with no explanation at all."
"Such a shame," Lucius said aloud.
Meanwhile, Lucius was thinking, Harry Potter becomes Lord Black, and suddenly Daphne Greengrass is back on the market. Coincidence? The Greengrasses are Grey, not Dark, but would Cyrus marry off his daughter to the half-blood boy whose best friends are a blood-traitor and a mudblood? Would Daphne Greengrass do something so shameful as marrying Harry Potter?
7th July
Greyclay, the Head Elf at Potter Manor, appeared to Harry in his bedroom at Privet Drive. Greyclay informed Harry that Potter Manor had been completely repaired and restored by the Manor's four house-elves. Harry praised Greyclay for a great job, which made the old elf blush.
Harry asked Greyclay to elf-pop him to Gringotts. At Gringotts, Harry told Ragnok to begin the warding of Potter Manor on 13th July, as previously contracted.
Then Harry asked Greyclay to elf-pop him back into his bedroom at Privet Drive. The Gringotts trip had taken only ten minutes, and neither the Dursleys nor Harry's Order guardian realised that Harry ever had been gone.
Two days later: 9th July
Albus Dumbledore loved it when the universe cooperated with Dumbledore achieving the Greater Good.
Dumbledore knew that Harry subscribed to the Daily Prophet, but the Prophet still had revealed nothing about the Sirius Black will, Harry's emancipation or Harry's double-elevation to Lord of two Houses. Which meant that so far as Harry knew, he was still a mere orphan schoolboy, and one who still was trapped at Number 4, Privet Drive. Furthermore, so far as Harry knew, he was destined to spend at least the next twenty-two days at Privet Drive.
But no, in three days Albus planned to visit the boy, to drop some news about Harry's inheritance, then to "rescue" Harry unexpectedly early and to take him to the Weasleys' house—so that Harry would upgrade from a nasty prison to a nicer one.
The news about Harry's inheritances would need to be finessed. As much as Dumbledore would prefer to tell the boy nothing, this was impractical. There were decisions about Grimmauld Place that only Harry Potter could make, and Harry would see no reason to make those decisions unless he was told some version of You now own the townhouse.
The trick for Albus was to present some edited version of the facts to Harry, so that Harry would be so slavishly grateful for being "rescued" from the Dursleys that he would never wonder whether he could have left the Dursleys on his own.
After further thought, Dumbledore decided what to tell Harry: that Harry maybe had inherited Grimmauld Place (a place which Dumbledore knew Harry had only unpleasant memories of), and that Harry had inherited a little money—not enough to change Harry's life at all.
With all his plans made, Dumbledore wrote a brief note and owled it to the boy.
12th July
So by 12th July—
Tom Riddle thought he knew what was going on in Harry Potter's life, and had no reason to wonder otherwise.
Albus Dumbledore thought he knew what was going on in Harry Potter's life, and had no reason to wonder otherwise.
The only oddities to disturb the dark lords' fool's paradise were two: Lucius Malfoy discovered that Cyrus Greengrass had begun, then soon had ended, betrothal negotiations with a dislikable bloke; whilst Dumbledore had found Harry Potter's reply letter to be oddly willful.
As for Harry Potter, by 12th July, now he had all his ducks in a row. He still was hoping that the headmaster would prove not to be a manipulative old fart.
On Friday, 12th July, at 11:00 p.m. exactly, the streetlamp that stood in front of Number 4, Privet Drive, went out.
Chapter 8
Will and Won't 2.0
It was Friday, 12th July, and headmaster Albus Dumbledore was about to be put to the test, though he did not know this yet.
A week ago, the house-elf Bluegrass had handed Harry a letter from Daphne. She reported that the Wizengamot had made the Sirius Black will public, thanks to pushing by Daphne's father, Lord Greengrass, and by—Are you ready for this?—Lord Malfoy. Anyway, once wizarding radio put its hands on the will, the only subject under discussion on Friday afternoon had been "Harry Potter, Harry Potter, what's Harry Potter going to do now?"
Harry had wondered how Saturday's Daily Prophet would cover the story. Would the newswriters sneer at him? Would the newswriters write something like "Finally, Harry Potter catches a break"? But the answer turned out to be "Harry Potter and Sirius Black are not worth mentioning." The Saturday, 6th July Daily Prophet had had more to say about the Chudley Cannons—the club almost had scored a tie match—than about Harry Potter.
Last Sunday morning, Monday morning, and Tuesday morning, the Prophet still had written nothing about Harry Potter's emancipation and nothing about his elevation to a double Lordship. Meanwhile, wizarding radio, so Daphne had told Harry in another elf-carried note, still could talk about nothing else than Harry Potter's love life. Daphne had reported that the favoured woman for "Harry's second wife"—it being a no-brainer that Hermione Granger would be Harry's first wife—was Susan Bones. Listeners ranked Lavender Brown as second favourite, and Daphne was ranked third. Daphne was displeased to report this.
But Tuesday, 9th July, after Harry had started his day with another no-Harry Daily Prophet, his day had included a barn owl delivering a short letter from Dumbledore—
Dear Harry,
If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays.
If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.
Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday,
I am, yours most sincerely,
(signed) Albus Dumbledore
Elderly Harry had written to young Harry about the original version of this letter on 9th July, and about Dumbledore's original visit on 12th July. How naive elderly Harry's young self had been, how trusting!
The brief reply written by elderly-Harry-counselled Harry was almost certainly not what the headmaster was expecting to read—
Professor Dumbledore,
The idea that a sixth-year student can advise the headmaster of Hogwarts is quite flattering, so trust that I will give you whatever aid I can, regarding the unspecified matter that concerns you.
But as for you escorting me to the Burrow for the rest of the summer, this won't be happening. I have made other plans; you should have consulted with me earlier.
Yours sincerely,
Harry James Potter
Frankly, Harry would not have been surprised if the headmaster had Apparated into Harry's bedroom within the hour. But no, the rest of Tuesday had passed with no second owl-letter from Dumbledore and no magical visit.
Likewise, Harry on Wednesday and Thursday had been spared both owls from Dumbledore and visits from Dumbledore. As for the Daily Prophet, Harry was no longer surprised that the newspaper had not mentioned him during either day.
Friday morning's Daily Prophet had talked about Harry for the first time in over a week—as the Chosen One who was destined, by an unquoted prophecy, to battle Voldemort someday. In other Friday news, the new Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeour had held a press conference (Fudge had been forced out as Minister for Magic), there were follow-up stories about the recent destruction of two Muggle bridges by Death Eaters, the West Country of England still was being ravaged by a combination of giants and Death Eaters, and funeral services had been held yesterday for Director Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—yet another casualty of Death Eaters.
As Friday passed, it became more and more obvious to Harry that Dumbledore intended to show up at his declared time of eleven in the evening. Harry reread this part of elderly Harry's book-letter, and mulled what he needed to do.
A little after eight in the evening, Harry came to a decision. He walked downstairs and into the sitting room, where all three Dursleys were watching the telly.
Harry said to the Dursleys, "At eleven tonight, Headmaster Dumbledore will pay me a visit."
Uncle Vernon started to speak; Harry's hand snapped up in a Stopgesture. "Nobody can persuade him not to come, nobody can persuade him to come earlier, once he's written he's coming at eleven, and we can't lock him out."
"What happens at eleven?" Dudley asked.
"He comes, he and I talk, he tries to order me to leave with him, I tell him I don't intend to leave, then life for me gets unpredictable," Harry said with a grim smile.
Aunt Petunia blinked. "You choose to stay with us rather than go to some frea—wizard place with Dumbledore?"
"Oh, I definitely want to visit my wizard friends this summer, and so I shall—but not for the entire summer, and not on Dumbledore's schedule. The challenge is, Dumbledore never hears the word no."
Uncle Vernon paused, then asked, "Would you like for us to help you?" Would you like for us to help you beat up Dumbledore?
Vernon's "offer" was basically asking for permission for him and Dudley to do what they wanted to do anyway. Alas, Harry knew what the result of Vernon and Dudley attacking Dumbledore would be. So Harry replied—
"I've seldom seen Dumbledore angry; but I don't want him angry at you. At eleven, I ask you to stay upstairs. I doubt there will be yelling; but even if there is yelling, please stay upstairs."
"Are you scared?" Dudley asked. Surprisingly, Dudley's tone was not mocking.
Harry replied, "I'm not scared now, and I don't expect to be scared at eleven. But by 11:02, I might be angry."
The Dursleys were silent for a time, whilst the telly chattered. Then Aunt Petunia said, "Thank you for telling us ahead of time. Good luck."
Uncle Vernon and Dudley nodded.
Friday, 12th July, 11:00 p.m.
Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey
Albus Dumbledore could have Apparated or Portkeyed just inside the front door of the house, and this would have obeyed the Statute of Secrecy. But Dumbledore never passed up a chance to show off.
It was unlikely that one of the Dursleys' neighbours would be looking out a window at eleven at night, would see a man suddenly appear at the kerb (without a car having brought him there), and would see him walk up the garden path to the Dursleys' front door. In short, Dumbledore did not need to turn off the streetlamp that was in front of Number 4—but Dumbledore darkened it anyway.
Once Dumbledore was at Number 4's front step, he rang the doorbell—knowing that this would awaken everyone in the house.
Dumbledore expected to hear noises and yelling. Instead, after only a second of silent waiting, the front door opened. There stood Harry.
Dumbledore had heard none of the metal sounds of a door unlocking. This meant that Harry already had been standing on the other side of the door, and already had unlocked the door.
"Enter freely and of your own will," Harry said to Dumbledore. Harry's face was in shadow; Dumbledore could not read the boy's expression.
Harry held the door open only until Dumbledore stepped into the house. Then Harry shut the door, locked it, and walked away from the door. Meanwhile, Dumbledore was looking around.
"I don't see your trunk anywhere, Harry. I can wait whilst you pack."
Harry replied, "I told you in my letter that I wasn't going to the Burrow till later this summer. Did you think I was joking?"
Dumbledore heard a noise above him. As quick as he could (considering what the Gault ring's curse already had done to his right hand), Dumbledore pulled the Elder Wand from a pocket and aimed it upward.
At the top of the stairs stood Harry's blond Muggle cousin, dressed in pyjamas. The lad flinched when Dumbledore pointed a wand at him, but did not move away.
"Everything all right, Harry?" the Muggle boy asked.
Harry said, "Everything is fine, Dudley, thank you. Go back to bed."
"Yell if you need anything," the Muggle said, before walking away to the right.
Dumbledore said in his disappointed grandfather voice, "Harry—"
Harry said, "You're disturbing my relatives' sleep, sir, and it's way too late for this to be a social call. You came here to ask me something; let's get to it."
Dumbledore was wrong-footed and beginning to worry. What had happened to the polite and pliant boy whom Dumbledore had been expecting? This Harry acted like a young, male version of Augusta Longbottom.
"Very well, Harry, I came here to tell you about your inheritance, and about a problem we—that is to say, the Order—have with it."
"I have an inheritance? From Sirius Black, I suppose."
There was a moment of awkward silence, as Dumbledore waited for Harry to beg for details about his inheritance, but Harry simply looked at Dumbledore.
It was Dumbledore who broke the silence: "Sirius's will was discovered a week ago"—for some reason, Harry frowned—"and he left some money to your friend Hermione, but he left you everything else."
Harry asked, "So what's the problem, the Order wants me to get rid of Mrs Black's portrait? I don't know any spell that would work."
"No, this isn't the problem. About your inheritance, you gain a modest amount of gold to add to what you already have—I suggest transferring the contents of Sirius's vault into your vault—and you inherit his flying motorcycle and his other personal possessions. The problem—"
"Hold on, you said I 'gain a modest amount of gold.' Could I buy a new broom with my new gold?"
Dumbledore answered smoothly, "You could, but it would be foolish of you to spend your inherited galleons incautiously."
"Yes, sure, I see that. Sorry, I interrupted—you were saying there was a 'problem' with my inheritance?"
"The problem is that whilst the will says you inherit Grimmauld Place, the House of Black tradition is that only a Pureblood and a member of the Black family may own the townhouse. Which twice excludes you. Black family magic might enforce the tradition, despite the will."
"So if I can't inherit Grimmauld Place, who does inherit it? Or does the townhouse become abandoned?"
"If Sirius had not left a will, Bellatrix Black Lestrange would inherit everything."
Harry gave Dumbledore a look, then said calmly, " 'Mad Bellatrix' kills my godfather, then she inherits his house? No, this would not be a good outcome."
Dumbledore nodded. "Another problem is that the Fidelius Charm, which makes the townhouse Unplottable, might have failed with Sirius's death. If Lestrange has inherited the townhouse and she can walk up to it in London, it would be foolish for the Order of the Phoenix to be holding a meeting when she walks through the door. Thus the Order has stopped meeting at Grimmauld Place till we have resolved this."
"Yes, I can understand the problem she would make," Harry said. "So how does this involve me?"
"If you, and not Lestrange, have inherited Grimmauld Place, you also have inherited its house-elf, Kreacher." Harry scowled, as Dumbledore expected he would. "Let us see whether you can give Kreacher an order that he must obey."
Dumbledore pulled the Elder Wand out of his pocket and wordlessly flicked the wand to summon the old house-elf.
Crack.
Kreacher stood there, quietly. Kreacher had never been quiet in all the time Dumbledore had known him. What is going on?
Harry said, "I thought house-elf magic was more powerful than wizard magic. How can you summon a house-elf when you're not his master?"
Dumbledore was not about to answer truthfully—I have the Elder Wand, which makes much "impossible" wizard magic possible. Instead, Dumbledore said, "That's not important right now. Harry, I need you to give Kreacher an order that he would not obey willingly."
"Erm, I'm not sure I..."
"Harry! This is important. If you don't own Kreacher, then Lestrange does, and this house-elf knows Order of the Phoenix secrets. I need this question answered now."
"Well, when you put it that way...Kreacher, I apologise, but I need for you to sing 'Rule Britannia' now."
Kreacher sighed—sighed!—and sang a song till Harry stopped him. The song sounded vaguely familiar—then Dumbledore recalled hearing it sung in Tom Riddle's orphanage.
Before Dumbledore could suggest that Harry send Kreacher to the Hogwarts kitchens, Harry said, "Thank you, Kreacher. Return to the townhouse." Crack—Kreacher was gone.
Dumbledore wondered, Why was Kreacher so quiet and agreeable when I summoned him here? But the headmaster could put forth no theories.
Another minute was spent deciding what to do with Buckbeak the hippogriff (who still had a Ministry of Magic death-sentence hanging over him). Dumbledore suggested allowing Hagrid, who already was caring for Buckbeak, to continue to keep him; Hagrid, Dumbledore remarked, had renamed the hippogriff "Witherwings." Harry shrugged as he verbally agreed to Dumbledore's suggestion.
Then Dumbledore said, "Harry, I must insist you stop with your adolescent stubbornness and make ready to travel to the Burrow tonight."
Harry crossed his arms. "Headmaster, I've told you twice already that I'm not going to the Burrow tonight. If all our other business is concluded, I think it's time for you to leave."
Harry walked to the front door, unlocked it and grasped the doorknob. The boy looked at Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow.
Dumbledore's jaw dropped.
The headmaster thought, To defeat him, you need information. Aloud, Dumbledore said, "Tell me what you're thinking, Harry."
Harry said, "To simply assume that I will go to the Burrow when you decide to take me, and that the Weasleys will host me when I get there, is thoughtless in both cases, Professor. Not to mention—"
"Harry, Arthur and—"
"Headmaster, I was still speaking. Not to mention, the Weasleys aren't rich, we both know this, and they hosting me for more than three fortnights would strain their budget. Also—"
"Harry—"
"Also, Neville once told me that his grandmother told him, 'Both fish and guests stink after three days.' I don't want to wear out my welcome with the Weasleys."
Dumbledore thought, I need to bring him back to heel. I can't let him act independently like this! Aloud, he said, "And how would you get to the Burrow on your own, without me taking you there?"
"Well, we've just proven I can call on Kreacher. That will be my emergency fallback." Then Harry smiled mischievously. "Or I could ride the Knight Bus—the twins tell me that someone needs to be a Gryffindor to be brave enough to ride it, but it's cheap!"
"Harry, the Knight Bus is not safe."
"Neither is Hogwarts—what's your point?"
"Harry, these are perilous times. I need you to trust me and to take my advice."
Harry shook his head. "You never explain your reasons for the advice. With you, always I'm expected to buy a pig in a poke."
"Harry, I don't always explain my reasons, but they always are good reasons. Always I act for the Greater Good. Trust me."
Harry shook his head—and Dumbledore was surprised to see that the boy was crying. "No, Professor, I don't trust you. Cedric Diggory died, Sirius died and Hermione almost died, all because I trusted you. You've looked at me with your twinkling eyes and you've liedto me. Merlin, you've lied to me tonight."
Cold dread hit Dumbledore's brain, but he kept his face and voice almost grandfatherly. "When have I ever lied to you, Harry?"
"Oh, let's see. You're the head man at Hogwarts and the Wizengamot and the ICW, yet how many times have you told me, 'I can't help you'? Remember the day when the Goblet of Fire spit out four names for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the fourth parchment had my name on it? Out of the blue, I was given an almost-certain death sentence—and you claimed to be as powerless as Argus Filch."
"Harry, you need to understand—"
Harry raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist. Dumbledore at first was puzzled, because Harry was not one of those boys who threatened people. Then on Harry's bare ring-finger a ring appeared, showing a big 'P' on a clay-grey background. Then the ring changed its colour and design, now showing a white 'B' on a black background. Then the B-ring became the P-ring again, then again the B-ring, before both rings seemingly vanished.
Crying Harry said, "When were you planning to tell me that I was an adult and you were no longer my magical guardian? When were you planning to tell me that the same will that made me Lord Black also disinherited and disowned Bellatrix Lestrange, so that it would be impossible for her to inherit Grimmauld Place? When were you planning to tell me that, rather than a 'modest amount of gold,' just the Black family vaults alone contain enough galleons to make me richer than the Malfoys? What the bloody fuck were you thinking when you put me with the bloody Dursleys?"
Harry still was standing by the front door. "According to the prophecy, I am the Chosen One who has to battle Tom Riddle to the death. So I'm going to need advice from people I trust. Hermione. 'Mad-Eye' Moody. McGonagall. Some others. But the list of 'those I trust' no longer includes you, Albus, and I shall no longer take your orders."
Dumbledore said, "Harry my boy, sometimes you act like a boy." So saying, Dumbledore pointed his wand up the stairs.
Harry's bedroom door opened. Seconds later, Harry's school trunk floated out the door and down the stairs, followed by Harry's brass telescope, his school robes, his Muggle clothes, Hedwig's cage, rolls of parchment and quills and inkpots, and everything else in Harry's bedroom that he would need as a Hogwarts student.
"What are you doing?" Harry demanded.
Dumbledore ignored Harry's question, and continued to wave his wand like a symphony conductor. Harry's things began to pack themselves into his school trunk.
"I don't like this," Harry muttered.
Soon the last of Harry's Hogwarts things had moved out of his bedroom; Dumbledore politely shut Harry's bedroom door. Seconds after this, when Harry's school trunk was completely packed, Dumbledore's wand made the trunk close itself.
Then—Pop!—Harry's trunk vanished.
"Where did it go?" Harry demanded.
Dumbledore turned to Harry, his eyes a-twinkle. "To the Burrow, don't worr—Harry!"
Too late, it seemed, Dumbledore noticed that Harry now had his wand out—
Harry snapped, "You tosser! Expelliarmus!"
Dumbledore was pushed back several feet, at the same time as his wand flew from his hand towards Harry. Harry caught the wand one-handed, in a well-practised move.
As soon as the base of Dumbledore's wand touched Harry's left hand, the wand warmed up. Because of elderly Harry's book-letter, Harry understood what this meant.
As Dumbledore scrambled to his feet, he looked close to crying. "Harry, do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I've disarmed you," Harry said angrily, "to force you to behave. Don't worry, I'll give you your wand back in a minute." Harry mentally added, Though now the Elder Wand's loyalty will be to me, not to you.
Harry opened the front door, and looked pointedly at the headmaster. "Albus Dumbledore, Head of Elder House Dumbledore, I, Harry Black-Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black and Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, order you to depart my dwelling-place."
Dumbledore magically was compelled to walk out the door.
After Dumbledore passed the doorway, Harry tossed Dumbledore his wand.
Then Harry said in a contemptuous voice, just loud enough for Dumbledore to hear, "By the way, when were you planning to tell me about the seven horcruxes, including my scar?"
Dumbledore gasped.
Minutes later, at the Burrow
Since Harry needed wizarding-world money to ride the Knight Bus, such money was in Harry's trunk and Harry's trunk was at Ottery Saint Catchpole, Harry needed Dobby's help to travel to the edge of the wards of the Weasleys' Burrow. (Fortunately, Dobby did not mind acting as short-notice chauffeur.)
Once Harry was at the Burrow, he rescued his trunk and escaped Molly's overbearing clutches, which actually was more difficult than him escaping Dumbledore, earlier tonight, had been.
The compromise that Harry worked out with Arthur and Molly was that Harry would leave the Burrow tonight but return tomorrow—for three days.
Hermione already was at the Burrow. When she learnt of Harry's new plans, she gave notice to the Weasley parents that this visit of hers would end in four days; she would leave the Burrow when Harry left.
Ron, when he heard about Harry's and Hermione's new plans, looked like he could not decide whether to feel relieved or angry.
Chapter 9: At the Burrow (Day 1)
Three times in canon, Harry should have become a legal adult in Wizarding Britain before he turned seventeen: 1) When he was forced to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament at age fourteen, when supposedly only students who were seventeen or older could enter their names. 2) When Harry was cited for performing underage magic, during the summer between his fourth and fifth years, and he was given a full trial in front of the entire Wizengamot. 3) When Sirius Black's will left Grimmauld Place and some money to Harry, both of which Harry had immediate use of.
Yet in canon, the blood-wards on the Privet Drive house remain active until Harry's seventeenth birthday. The whole excitement at the beginning of Deathly Hallows—the "flight of the seven Potters"—presumes that Voldemort and the Death Eaters are blocked from attacking the Privet Drive house until 31st July, 1997, no matter what has happened to Harry before then.
Rowling presumes that the blood-wards fail when Harry becomes an adult. Well, if this were true, then Number 4, Privet Drive would have become a Death Eaters-destroyed ruin about the time Harry on his broom was being chased by a dragon. So why do the blood-wards stay up? Because Wizarding Britain law is massively unfair—"Harry, we can hit you with all sorts of junk that is quite, quite unfair, but you stay a child under the law with no rights, myuhaha!"—or because Rowling did not know the law when she wrote the series, or because Rowling did not think things through when she was plotting her stories, or because Rowling willfully ignored logical outcomes for the sake of building-up the drama.
The above is a long-winded way of telling you that in this story, the blood-wards will remain in place until Harry turns seventeen or when his permanent residence no longer is Privet Drive, and these are the only two conditions to affect the blood-wards. The fact that in this story, Harry now is emancipated three different ways shall not affect the blood-wards at all.
Chapter 9
At the Burrow (Day 1)
Saturday, 13th July, during breakfast
Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey
Harry said to the Dursleys, "I have two things to tell you.
"First, when I was talking to Dumbledore last night, Dudley came out to the top of the stairs and offered me his help. This was a kind thing for you to do, Dudley. Big D surprised Dumbledore, who pointed his wand at Dudley, but my cousin didn't run away. This was brave of you, Big D."
Dudley beamed at the unexpected praise.
Harry continued, "Second, Dumbledore probably has mentioned the blood-wards that magically protect this house—but knowing the headmaster, probably hasn't explained much. Think of the blood-wards as ten-foot-thick magical walls, but they're selective. Nonmagical people—friends, neighbours, pedlars—can walk up the path, stand on your doorstep and ring your doorbell, no problem. Magical people with good intentions—Hogwarts faculty, friends of mine—also can walk up and walk in. But Voldemort, who is the evil wizard who killed my parents, as well as his minions, can't get to me and they can't get to you. Any questions?"
Nobody said anything. Uncle Vernon, amazingly, did not rant about freaks.
Harry looked hard at Aunt Petunia. "The reason they're called 'blood-wards' is that they somehow tie into the bond of blood between my mother Lily and me, and the blood-wards are powered by the act of love of my mum deliberately sacrificing herself for me. Also, I'm told that the spell is a genius of magic: good wizards can't explain how Mum cast the spell, and evil wizards can't break the spell. So for now, all four of us are safe."
"For now?" Aunt Petunia squeaked.
"Dumbledore doesn't understand a lot about the blood-wards, but he understands that they will last till my seventeenth birthday, and they'll last as long as this house is my permanent residence."
Uncle Vernon said, "So we've a little over a year before we've a problem."
Harry shook his head. "I'll spare you the details, but I'm already considered an adult in the wizarding world, and I recently became owner of three houses—"
"Three houses?" said Dudley.
"I haven't seen the third house, but the other two houses can be lived-in right now. I could remove to either house today, if I wanted—but the minute I removed from here, the ten-foot-thick magical walls would vanish."
"And we'd be dead," whispered Aunt Petunia, "and helpless to stop it."
Harry nodded. "I've decided I'll move out on 31st August. When I go to King's Cross Station on the first of September, I'll go there from someplace other than here. Now, several times during this summer, I plan to leave here temporarily, to visit friends or for personal business; but I say again, I won't leave here permanentlytill 31st August. I'm giving you lot forty-nine days to find another place and to remove there."
Uncle Vernon asked, "Why are you being so nice to us?"
Harry said, "Because whilst I don't like you and you don't like me, I don't want you dead."
Dudley said quietly, "I like you. Hard not to, when you saved me from a monster I couldn't even see. I'm sorry for being a wanker to you, all these years."
Harry ate breakfast, then washed the dishes. By age fifteen, Harry could do dishwashing mindlessly whilst he thought about something else. This time, whilst Harry washed dishes, his thoughts turned to Professor Severus Snape.
Earlier this year, because of an unlikely chain of events, Harry had viewed a pensieve memory of Snape's Hogwarts years. To the son of James Potter and the godson of Sirius Black, viewing the memory had been awful—he saw two men whom he had always admired, revealed as fifth-year bullies. Harry had watched as his mother Lily had tried to stop teen-Severus's upside-down, floating humiliation. This had led directly to what surely must be the greatest mistake of the potion-master's life: humiliated, ashamed teen-Severus had lashed out at Lily, calling her a "filthy mudblood"—which had ended the years-long friendship of Severus and Lily instantly.
Elderly Harry had mentioned this pensieve memory, and how much it had upset young Harry; but then elderly Harry had described other pensieve memories of Snape's that he would view two years from now—viewed because the dying Severus Snape had giftedthose memories to seventeen-year-old Harry to watch.
Seventeen-year-old Harry had been shocked to view these memories—and fifteen-year-old young Harry had been shocked to read elderly Harry's description of them. Teen-Severus, sick with regret, had begged teen-Lily for forgiveness—but such forgiveness had been refused. Still, Severus had never lost his love for Lily. This had led to the man making "devil's bargains" with both Voldemort and Dumbledore—and each man had squeezed Snape like a lemon. When it would be useful for Snape to die, Voldemort, with no regret, had ordered Nagini to bite Snape, then had left for more important work than watching Snape die. Dying Snape's last request to Harry had been "Look at me"—the potions-master had wanted to die gazing into Lily's green eyes, even if those eyes now belonged to Lily's green-eyed hated son.
Now, as young Harry washed dishes, he thought about all he knew about his third-biggest enemy, knowledge that nobody—not Voldemort or Dumbledore, not Hermione or Daphne, not even Snape himself—knew that young Harry knew.
Could Snape's love for my mother become the way to redeem him? Does my "saving-people thing" extend even to "the greasy git"? An idea began to form in young Harry's brain.
But Harry had many other tasks on his to-do list for today besides maybe-redeeming Snape.
After washing the dishes, Harry went upstairs to his bedroom. In his bedroom, Harry called for Dobby, who elf-popped him to Gringotts.
Minutes later, Harry was in the Potter family vault, seeking out a particular document: the betrothal contract between James Potter and Lily Evans, which was signed by Charlus Potter and Minerva McGonagall.
After a two-hour search, Harry found the parchment he was seeking. He left the Gringotts vault and, after briefly consulting with the Potter-family account manager at Gringotts, was elf-popped into a wizarding-world law office.
An hour later, and five thousand galleons poorer, Harry and Dobby elf-departed the law office to go to Hogwarts Castle. Specifically, to the Room of Lost Things.
Soon, with Dobby's help, Harry tracked down the horcruxed Diadem of Ravenclaw. This was elf-transported to the dungeons at Grimmauld Place. Soon afterwards, Harry and the basilisk fang killed the diadem's horcrux, whilst Dobby and Kreacher kept a close eye on Harry.
Harry presumed that Dumbledore had destroyed the horcrux in the ring that had cursed him; if so, the only horcrux not yet destroyed was the one in Nagini the snake.
Now feeling much more cheerful about the outcome of his prophesied battle with Voldemort, Harry asked Dobby to elf-pophim to Harry's bedroom at Privet Drive.
Harry walked downstairs, told Aunt Petunia "I'm gone for three days" and walked upstairs. Harry and his trunk were elf-popped to just outside the protection-wards for the Burrow.
Harry at the Burrow
The wards let Harry, whilst pulling his school trunk, walk across the ground and knock on the front door.
The door was yanked open by Fred and George, both grinning. George said, "Welcome to our humble home, Lord-Lord Harry." George made an exaggerated bow.
Fred said, "You honour us with your presence, Lord-Lord Harry." Fred actually dropped to his knees for his exaggerated bow.
Harry laughed, as he shut the front door behind himself. He said to the twins, "I guess you lot heard about my elevations."
George said, "Today's Prophet has three pages devoted to you, including guesses about whom and whom Lord Black-Potter will marry."
Fred (now standing up) said, "Ginny has been wearing a dreamy smile all morning."
Harry said, "Oh my. What about Hermione? What has been herreaction?"
George said, "It's quite odd—Hermione has said nothing."
Fred said, "Unlike ickle Ronniekins."
As soon as Harry and Hermione were in the same room, he walked up to her and murmured, "Two things. First, I'm negotiating a betrothal contract with your father."
Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. "Already?"
He said, "Second, Dumbles might interrogate me whilst I'm here. I'm not worried, because I'm wearing my special Hermione-invented, no-mind-magic rune-sequence under my shirt. Are you?"
Hermione grinned a megawatt smile. "The rune-sequence that I designed in 2023? You bet I'm wearing it."
Harry grinned back. "Elderly Harry wrote to me, decades after 2023, that no wizard, Light or Dark, had ever figured out a way to beat your runes sheet. This is brilliant—now the Imperius won't work on me, legilimency won't work on me, Confundo won't work, ditto Obliviate—and your future self worked it out. Be proud."
Hermione replied with mock-hauteur, "I am the brightest witch of my age; such things are only to be expected."
Then she gave Harry a quick kiss.
Hermione asked, "Professor Dumbledore's visit with you yesterday, how did it go?"
Harry sighed. "He came at eleven at night, which would have frightened the Dursleys, except I had warned them ahead of time. When he talked to me, he tried to play off my trust and ignorance, which would have worked if I hadn't read you-know-what. He didn't show me the will, he told me almost nothing about what it said, and what little he told me was misleading. I lost my temper at the end, and told him something I shouldn't have."
"What did you say?"
"I mentioned the"—Harry lowered his voice—"seven horcruxes. Now he'll demand to know what they are, where they are and how Iknew the list of them when he didn't."
Hermione didn't reply with words; instead, she threw her arms around Harry and gave him a long hug.
Starting within the hour, house-elves appeared in front of Harry and handed him a parchment. Harry would read each parchment, make comments, hand the parchment back, and each elf would popaway.
One time, this happened during a pick-up Quidditch game, forcing the game to be paused; Ron looked annoyed.
A little after noon, three owls tapped on windows, bearing the O.W.L.-exam results of Ron, Hermione and Harry.
Ron's attitude towards his examination results was "Forget all that, who wants to play chess?"
Hermione's response was smug satisfaction—which was no surprise, considering the results she got—except she was annoyed at getting "only" an "Exceeds Expectations" in DADA.
Harry looked at the neatly-written parchment and felt nothing. Though taking the exams had happened only a few weeks ago by the calendar, to Harry it felt like lifetimes ago. Since taking the exams, Harry had battled Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, had seen his godfather die, had seen Hermione almostdie, had been told about the prophecy that linked himself and Voldemort, had read elderly Daphne's letter and elderly Harry's book-letter, had claimed two inheritances, and had listened to the man whom Harry had admired above all others, Albus Dumbledore, lie to Harry and try to mislead him.
Compared to these things, an "Acceptable" in Astronomy and a "Dreadful" in History of Magic did not upset Harry at all.
A house-elf popped in whilst the Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione, were eating dinner. Harry and the elf conversed, quietly and briefly, then the house-elf left; but this time, Ron snapped, "What the bloody hell is going on?"
Harry replied calmly, "A prophecy connects Voldemort and me; soon I will have to fight him to the death. I now am Lord of House Potter and Lord of House Black. School starts in seven weeks—on 1st September, many restrictions will be dropped on me. I have much to do now, and not much time to do it in."
Molly said dismissively, "You don't need to worry about any of those things, you're just a boy!"
Harry shook his head. "I haven't been a 'boy' since the troll in the bathroom. I haven't been a 'boy' since I killed Voldemort-possessed Professor Quirrell."
Ron said, "I was there, remember? With the troll in the bathroom. My spell stunned it, and I consider myself still a boy!"
Hermione said acidly, "And you still act like a boy, Ronald. Yes, your wingardium leviosa stunned the monster, but Harry shoving his wand up the troll's nose soon killed it. Harry was eleven years old and he got this weight dropped on his soul."
Molly said, "You should let Professor Dumbledore decide these things for you, even if now you're technically an adult. The headmaster is old and wise."
Harry said, " 'Wise,' really?" Harry locked eyes with Ron and with the twins. "Four words, Molly: 'bars on the window.' "
"What?" said Hermione. "Harry, you never told me about this!"
"The twins exaggerate," Molly said dismissively.
"This time they didn't," Harry snapped. "At the Dursleys, I am treated like an inmate in a Muggle prison. And Molly? Dumbledore put me in that place when I was fifteen months old, and Dumbledore has kept me at that place—"
Pop. Another house-elf appeared at the dinner table, and handed Harry another parchment. Harry read it, glanced around at six silent redheads and one silent, bushy-haired genius all watching him, then Harry handed the parchment back to the elf. "Paragraph three is too much—tell Yohanneus to tell Cyrus that I'll accept half of what Three says."
"Understood, Lord Black," the house-elf said, then vanished.
Arthur Weasley said, " 'Cyrus'? As in 'Cyrus Greengrass'?"
Ron demanded, "What kind of deals are you making with those slimy snakes?"
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, then Harry replied, "I am negotiating two betrothal contracts right now. As Lord Black, I am pursuing a betrothal with Daphne Greengrass. As Lord Potter, I am negotiating a betrothal contract for Hermione."
"I hate you!" Ginny cried. She jumped up and ran from the table. More slowly, Arthur stood up and followed his daughter. Every other redhead—even Molly—was shocked into silence.
Too soon, Molly said, "Harry, you should be ashamed of yourself, even thinking about marrying two women. You should be even more ashamed of marrying a Dark woman. What's wrong with marrying a Light woman of good family? Like Susan Bones? Or like—"
"Ginny," said George.
"Speaking theoretically," said Fred.
Hermione glared at Molly. " 'Of good family' doesn't include me? My parents both are dentists."
"Your parents are Muggles, dear," Molly said, with condescension that could be heard in Bulgaria.
Harry cut off Hermione's imminent rant to say, "Why Daphne? For personal reasons—"
Ron snickered. "I'll bet."
"—and also for political reasons. My life as Lord X will be hellunless I know how the game is played, which Hogwarts doesn'tteach Muggle-raised and Muggle-born students."
Hermione muttered, "Tell me about it."
Molly pressed, "Why not marry Ginny?"
Harry thought, Elderly Harry married Ginny, and he always felt like he'd missed the boat whenever he looked at Hermione. Aloud, Harry said, "Ginny has red hair like my mother, and I think of her as a sister. Marrying a girl who is a cross between my mother and my sister is just too weird."
One second later
George said, "We should look on the bright side. For Harry, twice the wives means twice the"—he waggled his eyebrows—"fun-fun."
Fred said, "Ah, but it's our Hermione who gets the better deal. 'Harry has two manor houses' means Harry owns two libraries."
Hermione grinned. "True, but some books in the Black library will kill Lady Potter if she touches them. Their family grimoire will kill me, if nothing else."
"Bah!" said George. "A simple problem with a simple solution." Now speaking in falsetto, George said, "Harry? Honey baby snookums? I will be nice to you tonight—"
Fred, speaking falsetto, took over: "Quite, quite nice to you tonight—"
George touched Fred's arm in warning: "Quite, quite nice to you tonight, in ways Mum won't let us spell out at the dinner table—"
"If you would do me a tiny little favour—"
George and Fred, both speaking falsetto, spoke together: "Turn the bloody page of the bloody Black-family grimoire!"
Hermione shrieked with laughter, then she laughed till she cried. When she finally could speak again, she fist-bumped the twins and said, "You clowns completely understand me. Merlin!"
That night, Harry removed parchment, ink bottle and quill from his trunk, then went downstairs. He put all his carried things on the Weasleys' dinner table, sat down, put a Notice-Me-Not Charm around himself, then began to write a letter to Severus Snape.
A half-hour later, Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. Harry watched as his snowy owl flew away into the night.
Harry thought, Writing this letter to Snape is either the smartest thing I'll have ever done, or I've just created a disaster of Biblical scale.
Then Harry thought, I need to get my mind off worry that I've just made a huge mistake. How about I write a letter to Daphne?
Dear Daphne,
I barely know you (and most of what I know about you has been in the last fortnight), so I feel weird, writing to you. But Gryffindors charge ahead! Here goes.
Right now, Hermione and I are visiting the Burrow (the Weasleys' name for their house). When I knocked on the front door, the twins opened it. Immediately they both bowed to me and called me "Lord-Lord Harry." This was how I learnt that the Daily Prophet had finally reported about Sirius Black's will and about my inheritances.
I've always enjoyed the twins' company. Don't tell any Weasleys this, but sometimes I haven't wanted to be anywhere near Ron, and sometimes Ginny creeps me out when she acts so stalkerish. I've always disliked Percy.
Molly (Mrs Weasley), I have mixed feelings about. She knitted me a jumper for Christmas of first year, even before she had met me. She loves to give out hugs, and she's a great cook. On the other hand, "Howler Molly" does not hold back if you do something she disapproves of. All of the Weasley sons who are old enough to leave home, did leave, as quickly as they could.
Arthur Weasley (Lord Weasley) is someone I like but don't respect. He doesn't stand up to his wife, and he thinks Dumbledore defecates unicorns and rainbows.
Speaking of Dumbledore, he came to my relatives' house late last night. The only parts of my inheritance he told me about were the main Black family house (a place he knows I have only bad memories of), and (supposedly) "a modest amount of gold." He said nothing about me becoming an emancipated minor, or becoming Lord Black, or becoming Lord Potter, or now being able to spend lots and lots and lots of galleons! So I have joined your recent letter-writer's husband in deciding that Dumbledore is a liar and a swindler. But I didn't want to realise these truths, and I became sad when I did.
In other news, you know that I'm negotiating a betrothal contract for you and me with your father. I also am negotiating a betrothal contract for Hermione and me with her parents. (Actually, I'm negotiating the betrothal contract with Professor McGonagall, since she's Hermione's magical guardian. But I'm sure that "Minnie" won't sign the contract until she's sure that the Doctors Granger are fine with the contract terms.) My first proposed betrothal contract for Hermione was the final betrothal contract that Charlus Potter and Professor McGonagall signed, for the betrothal between my father and my Muggle-born mother.
Daphne, I have a Muggle-born mother, and I am Muggle-raised. You should know that you aren't just getting a man with a House and title, you're getting a man who is, for all practical purposes, a Muggle-born. I haven't been Lord Potter and Lord Black for long, but already at times I feel like a complete impostor—as if I put on a long blond wig and called myself 'Lord Malfoy.' Figure that in the years ahead, your Muggle-raised husband will annoy you because of things you think I should know but I don't know, and because I have the "wrong" attitudes. On the other hand, Pureblood men are in some ways all alike, whereas I'm like nobody else on the planet, so being married to me won't be boring!
(signed) Harry
P.S. Remember that special rectangular thing I gave you recently? Please start wearing it under your clothes, if you aren't already doing so. I suspect that soon you, Hermione and I all will encounter would-be intruders.
Meanwhile, at Spinner's End
Severus Snape was in bed, half asleep, when he heard the tapping on his window. Alas, having two masters meant that it was unthinkable that Snape make the owl wait till morning to unload his burden.
Grumbling Snape opened the window to let the owl enter his bedroom—and the potions-master was shocked when he saw which owl it was. Anyone who had been at Hogwarts longer than a week knew bloody well to whom the snowy owl belonged. Why is Harry Potter writing to me? Snape wondered.
The answer-thought came immediately: He scored only "Acceptable" on his Potions O.W.L. exam, but he wants in the N.E.W.T.-level class anyway. No chance in hell, Mr Potter!
It turned out, that Snape's guess, about the subject of Harry Potter's letter, was completely wrong.
Severus (the name that my mother Lily knew you as),
You have given me every reason to wish you harm and to hate you, because you first hated me. As you endlessly remind me, I am the son of James Potter, a man I have exactly one memory of—of him yelling the last thing he would ever say.
But whilst I am James' son, I also am Lily's. Lily Evans once called you her friend, and she once rebuked my father and my godfather in order to make them stop their humiliation of you.
It is to Severus Snape, formerly the boy loved by my mother, to whom I write this letter.
Because of the love that my mother felt for both of us, I give you a one-time gift: a free choice.
I have become bloody sick of Dumbledore giving me "choices" that really aren't: Do I want to go back to live with Aunt Petunia and her bullying husband and son, or do I want their deaths on my conscience? Do I want to participate in a tournament that likely will kill me, or do I want to be stripped of my magic?
I suspect that our manipulative old fart of a headmaster has put you in similar situations, where saying yes and saying no are notequally possible choices for you.
Yet this is the choice I give you now. Below, I tell you the complete text of the prophecy, which I know is information that Voldemort is desperate to get. Because Neville accidentally destroyed the prophecy orb, Voldemort can't get the prophecy from the orb. Voldemort can't get the prophecy from my mind (I won't explain how), and Dumbledore is too skilled at Occlumency for Voldemort to get the full text from him. Likewise, you are too skilled at Occlumency for Voldemort to rip the full text of the prophecy from your mind. But why would Voldemort suspect that you might know the full prophecy in the first place? He wouldn't, because why would anyone suspect that Harry Potter has confided anything to the Potions professor who so clearly hates him?
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...
So now you know the full prophecy. Nobody can mind-read you to get this information, and nobody suspects that you know it. (Dumbledore no longer can mind-read me, and I have told neither Hermione nor Ron that I am writing you this letter.) Voldemort will get the full text of the prophecy from you only if you volunteer to speak it aloud.
Now you understand the free choice I give you: You can stay silentabout the full prophecy, and no consequences will befall you. Or you can tell Voldemort the full prophecy, and neither Dumbledore or I can stop you. The choice is yours.
(signed) Harry James Potter, son of Lily Evans Potter
P.S. On my Potions O.W.L., I scored an E. It wasn't an O (what Hermione scored), but I'm pleased with it.
Snape read the letter and sneered. This is exactly the sort of thing that Godric Gryffindor might have done: give valuable intelligence to an enemy, to keep things "fair."
But then an unwanted thought burst into Snape's brain: Godric Gryffindor might have told me the full prophecy, but James Potter never would have, not in a million years. In this, Harry Potter is quite unlike his father.