Part 7
They met at half past seven in the common room, grinned shyly at each other and settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Crookshanks joined them, meowing quietly as if telling them about his night before plonking down on Hermione's lap and sighing in contentment.
"Is it strange that I already love him so much?" she asked and carded through the cat's thick fur. "He was waiting for me in the store ... I saw him last summer but my mum said I wasn't ready for a pet yet. It devastated me. I was sure someone else had seen how special he is and bought him."
"Why would your mum say that?" Harry wondered. Carefully, he joined Hermione's petting and Crookshanks started to purr like a little engine. "You're the most responsible person I know."
She blushed und looked away for a moment. "It's nice of you to say that, but she was right, actually. After first year, I was kind of traumatized, what with the troll and Fluffy and everything else. I wanted Crooks then, but he'd have been a crutch, and my parents didn't want me to push my issues aside. They dragged me to a psychologist ... of course she's a muggle so I couldn't tell her the complete truth, but she still helped." She paused and softly stroked along Crookshank's nose. "We were barely home and it wouldn't have been fair to drag Crookshanks into that mess."
Something in Harry relaxed, a thing he hadn't even known had been tense until that very moment. "I'm doing that, too," he confessed. "Seeing a mind healer, I mean. It helps."
"That's great. I've been wondering how to talk to you about it because honestly, out of all of us you definitely suffered the worst. Are you still having sessions?" Hermione asked, sinking slightly against Harry.
"Yeah, he wants to stay in contact while I'm at school. So far, he's given me some really good advice about how things work in the wizarding world. And other stuff, of course."
"Muggleborns or muggle-raised kids could do with a lot more introduction to the wizarding world," Hermione huffed. "I can't even imagine getting that talk from Hagrid. I like him, but he forgot to bring you home after taking you to Diagon Alley. Nevermind telling you how to get on the train!"
Harry kind of regretted telling her and Ron that particular story, but on the other hand it was nice to know that she was looking out for him and showing him what went wrong around him. Because he clearly was still too naive.
"Anyway, I've decided to approach Lavender with this," Hermione continued. "Since her mum's working as a journalist, she might be able to write an article for the summer, or even a whole extra for the paper for new Hogwarts students. Heck, she could write a yearly extra with all the standard and current information. Hogwarts clearly isn't doing enough to educate the students."
"I've always wondered why we can elect Muggle Studies, but not Wizarding Society or something like that," Harry murmured. With his free hand, he began playing with Hermione's fingers. "Gringotts got me a book about that. It's self-updating, with the most important laws in the back and everything."
"Can I read it?" Hermione asked, but immediately caught herself. "Nevermind, I can afford to buy it myself now."
Harry laughed. "You can still borrow my copy until yours arrives."
"Thank you." Hermione cleared her throat. "And thanks for not being put off. Being pushy is my biggest fault, I know that. I really try not to get so excited, but it's hard. There's just so much to learn."
"I know the feeling," he consoled her and smiled. "There's a lot of important stuff in that book. Even you will have to work a while to get it all."
"Still, it's not right to always demand things from you. It makes me no better than Ron, and that kind of horrifies me a little. I'm sorry. Please tell me when it gets too much." Hermione bit her lip. "I really don't want to scare you off."
"Okay," Harry agreed easily. Then, he grinned. "You know, I asked my healer whether I could tell you that you're bossy."
That startled a laugh out of Hermione. "You didn't!"
"I did." He playfully tugged at her thumb. "But I like that I can tell you. We're friends, alright? That's not gonna change because we're dating now."
"You're a horrible boy," Hermione sniffed and buried her face in his shoulder. "New rule: you only get to tell me one wonderful thing a week! I don't want to be a blubbering mess all the time!"
Harry decided then and there that he'd probably never understand girls. It also was a little alarming to feel his shirt getting wet. "Are you honestly crying about that?" he asked, bewildered.
"Shut up," Hermione mumbled and cuddled even closer against him, until Harry's arm went fully around her. "I never had a best friend like you. I can happy-cry about it if I want."
That was certainyl true enough, and since Harry didn't want her to feel bad about feeling good in his presence - even if her sniffles were making him a little uncomfortable - he just bussed a kiss onto her head.
A few minutes later, Hermione sighed. "Why is it already eight?"
"My fault," Harry teased. "I'm really looking forward to Defence; I probably made the time go faster."
"You're such a dork," she chuckled. With some reluctance, Hermione sat up straight and wiped her cheeks. "I'm really looking forward to Defence, too. Do you think Professor Lupin will teach us his spell? Expecto Patronum?"
"We can ask," Harry replied, although Sirius had already told him that the spell usually wasn't taught at Hogwarts at all, and was a bit tricky to master besides. In fact, Sirius had told Harry a lot of things last night, none of which he could share with Hermione at the moment. "But breakfeast first."
"Yes, let's go before Ron joins us. His table manners are a nightmare." Carefully, Hermione shooed Crookshanks from her lap. "But first ..." She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's lips.
Harry was a bit overwhelmed. Yesterday, it had been easy, mellow, almost like it was supposed to happen. Today, however, Hermione had intentionally kissed him, and even though they were still alone, it felt kind of monumental. Like they were best of friends, but suddenly also so much more. He had no idea where the distinction came from, but there it was, and he suspected that it would baffle him for a while yet.
"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, obviously a little worried about his stillness. "Was it too much?"
Harry shook himself. "No. I was just ... you know. Thinking about it. For me, it's a ..." He flushed a little. "A big deal. It feels nice, though."
"It's okay if you want to wait a little longer," Hermione said. "We're really young, after all."
"I wish I were a little older," Harry said, suddenly gripped with the fear that she'd go elsewhere to get kisses if he took too long to be ready.
"I don't." Hermione smiled. "I don't need kisses. I just want them because I like you." The soft gleam in her eyes became an impish little twinkle. "Kissing you here is also great." And she smacked him on the cheek, causing a heated blush to bloom on Harry's face and rush all the way down to his chest.
"O-okay," Harry stuttered, supremely flustered. "Uh, so, breakfast now?"
Hermione stood, offered her hand for him to take, and said, "Let's go."
They were the first to sit down at their house table, which was a good thing because Dobby served Harry a very individual breakfast consisting of Greek yogurt with elf berries and a little honey, avocado toast and two eggs benedict on sauteed spinach.
"I'm so envious," Hermione sighed as she poked at her hash browns. "What can I do to convince Dobby to let me have a plate of that, as well?"
"I guess asking would do the trick," Harry replied, not fighting his smile. He lowered his voice. "Dobby? Would it be alright to make food for Hermione too when she wants it?"
"Dobby can do that," the invisible elf squeaked quietly. "Dobby be happy that Miss Mione be liking Dobby's cooking."
"Like it?" Hermione hissed incredulously. "It looks and smells amazing!"
"Dobby be trying to teach Hogwarts elves more variety," Dobby whispered. "Dobby be making inroads."
Now Hermione was smiling as well. "Thank you very much, Dobby. On behalf of all the students I wish you much luck."
"Luck not be having anything to do with it," Dobby said.
There was a barely audible pop, and just a minute later, Hermione's plate vanished and was replaced with a breakfast just like Harry's.
"I sincerely love him," Hermione declared and moaned happily at the first bite of her eggs.
Thankfully their yearmates were a rather unobservant bunch in the mornings and didn't say anything about the unusual dishes when they descended on the great hall a few minutes later. Lavender was chugging coffee as if it were her lifeline, and Dean was as much a fan of hash browns and bacon as he'd ever been and didn't even notice a large owl knocking over Seamus' goblet of pumpkin juice when it was time for mail delivery.
"Oh, Archimedes," Neville groaned. He tried to mop up the mess, but the owl hooted angrily at him and stuck out its leg.
"I'll take care of it," Harry said, his wand already out for a cleaning spell. "You read your letter."
"Thanks, Harry." Neville took the letter, fed the owl a piece of sausage, and opened the sealed piece of parchment. "Oh, it's from my gran."
Hermione dropped her spoon into her empty yogurt bowl. "What does she say?"
Neville hastily read over the entire missive and flushed a fierce red. "She says that, uh, that the headmaster is ... er, nevermind, she'll come here tomorrow and talk to Professor Dumbledore. Says she'll put an end to this nonsense before the full board of govenors has to get involved."
"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "I'll have to thank her."
"Er, yes, she'll want to meet you, Harry." Neville looked uncomfortable. "Apparently she'd like to have a word with you. After she's talked to Professor Dumbledore."
Ron, who was perpetually late if no one woke him, stumbled up to them and elbowed his way into a spot on the bench between Harry and Dean.
"Excuse you," Dean said, annoyed that his cup of water was falling victim to Ron's flailing. "I was drinking that."
"Sorry," Ron huffed. With one hand he poured tea, while grabbing toast and bacon from their platters with the other. "It's so late already ... need breakfast."
"Ugh, keep your mouth closed while you eat, Ronald. Honestly." Hermione bent her head over Lavender's Daily Prophet. "Hey, where's the article about the dementors, Lavender? Didn't you say your mum would write one? I expected it yesterday, but then I thought that she was maybe getting more information before publishing it."
"She did write one, and it was amazing." Lavender scowled at her plate. "The boss told her not to bother, that the Ministry has it all in hand. Instead, they're harping on about Black, as if the whole country doesn't know already that he's wanted."
"What? He just brushed it off?" Harry asked, apalled, and many other students in their vicinity voiced their displeasure as well. A rather intimidating eagle chose that moment to land on the table, a thick newspaper tied to its leg. Harry accepted the Wizarding International Times from it and paid two sickles. Even at first glance he saw that things were very different outside of Great Britain. "That's obviously total rubbish. Europe's going nuts over it, see?"
The headline indeed read: British Students Attacked By Dementors! Several Near Fatalities! Ministry Denies Involvement!
"Probably my father's doing," Pavarti said proudly. "He knew that the Ministry wouldn't admit to making a mistake and wrote to a friend in Spain, who apparently tapped his contacts here. Although I have no idea where you managed to buy the WIT; you can't buy it anywhere, as far as I know. My dad has his semi-legally imported from Ireland."
"My secret for now," Harry said. He frowned at the many pages. "Thank god I only subscribed to the weekly edition; I don't know how people find the time to read all this every day."
"We could share," Lavender offered. "Pavarti and I could start with the feuilleton."
"International sports for me?" Dean asked hopefully. "Several Quidditch national teams got Firebolts for their seekers, some even for all their players. That'll change things around!"
"It's crazy," Ron said through his mouthful of food.
"I'll take the economy pages, if you don't want them," Neville said shyly. "I'm waiting on news about the trade agreement between Britain and the African Magical Union."
Harry divided the paper into smaller parts and handed them out as requested. For himself he kept the current news about Britain. Sirius had warned him, but reading about the attack from an outsider's point of view himself really drove the point home: it had been dangerous on Wednesday and they could've died. Fifteen dementors had been counted, and an unnamed source from within the Ministry of Magic had admitted that none of the aurors on duty had been prepared for a search, the Hogwarts Express having been cleared by another auror team not ten minutes before departure, much less an attack.
I know that Professor Lupin and Sirius have issues, but I'm still glad that Lupin was there. He was the first with his spell, and told everybody what to do after that, Harry thought as he turned the page.
Next came a few short interviews with parents of students.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said. "Look, the WIT even contacted your parents!"
"They interviewed muggles?" Ron asked. "How weird, the Prophetnever bothers."
"Just shows how backwards that rag is." Hermione ducked under the table instead of taking the long way round and unceremoniously sat on Harry's lap, because Ron didn't even try to scoot over. "Wow, really, they even got their photo taken." She looked longingly at her waving parents and then quickly read over the interview. "They went all out, ha. Serves Minister Fudge right."
"There's also mention of your new status," Harry said, pointing at the pertinent part of the article. "When the goblins say public record, they obviously mean it."
"It's not their fault," Hermione replied, although she didn't look very happy about it. "A good newspaper routinely checks these records, so it had to come up eventually. It's just unfortunate that the dementors and I made it into the same article."
"Unfortunate? You'll get a lot of attention that way," Ron said and stuffed half a buttered breakfast roll into his mouth. "Maybe you don't want marriage contracts, but I bet people are curious about you now."
"Why should they be? When I came here, no one mentioned the Dagworth-Granger family to me, which is fair enough. People from oversea's will care even less."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Pavarti cautioned her. "The USA have a large academic community, and so do many other countries. Hector Dagworth-Granger will be known to some people, at least, and it might interest them what his newly discovered great-granddaughter is up to."
Hermione just rolled her eyes.
Next to Parvati, Lavender was slapping the front page of the Daily Prophet. "They're not even reporting that angle without dragging Hermione through the mud."
"Cheap entertainment," Neville said quietly. "Unfortunately."
"I'd sue them, but it's not worth the hassle," Hermione replied. "I'm just sorry for everyone who has to read that tripe."
"This is worse than tripe, they're keeping people in the dark about demons from hell," Lavender snapped. "And it's unfair how the editor just ruined my mum's chance at the Ackleson Award," she added and glowered. "They'll probably give it to Rita Skeeter, again."
"Your mum should quit," Parvati agreed. "It was the story of the year, at least so far, and they buried it. Hoch much worse can it get?"
"I don't really want to insult the wizarding society," Hermione said, earning herself groans and even a few dirty looks, "but if that's how the Prophet deals with big news that could harm the Minister for Magic, then I'm afraid it's a bit of a mouth-piece. And do you even get how strange it is that there's only one major newspaper? A government-controlled newspaper wouldn't be so bad if there were independent media outlets to offset their obvious bias, but apparently the British magicals have nothing of the sort."
"I swear I have no idea what she's talking about half of the time," Ron declared into the stunned silence.
"I got what she means just fine," Katie Bell called from her place close to the head table. "And she's right! The Prophet is a joke. I'll cancel my subscription as soon as I get my hands on an owl. Fred, George, you can have that rag for that thing you're working on until my contract runs out."
The twins cheered while Percy a few seats away pretended not to know them.
"I'll tell my parents to cancel my subscription, too," Lavender said, still angry. "Maybe they'll send me the WIT instead. They're at least reporting the bloody news."
Parvati grinned. "Good idea, we can't always steal Harry's. Or did you get just the one?"
"Nah, I have a subscription," Harry replied. "When I'm done with it, you're welcome to read it, though."
Pavarti thanked him graciously, while Lavender looked both thoughtful and vengeful.
Shortly after, it was time to head to the Defence classroom. Professor Lupin let them in and greeted the mixed group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in a friendly but professional manner. To everybody's delight, he told them to keep their books in the bags and get their wands out.
"Defence against the dark arts must be practiced constantly," Lupin told them, "and therefore most of our classes will be dedicated to practical work. The theoretical part will be covered in your homework, so pay attention to what you read and always double-check your information. I'm not above setting traps if I think that you're not paying enough attention or cutting corners." With a swish of his wand, all the tables and chairs sorted themselves along the walls. A second swish brought a large wardrobe forward, which was rattling ominously. "Today's topic will be the boggart. Do any of you know what a boggart is?"
Hermione of course raised her hand, and so did Hannah Abbott, a blond girl from Hufflepuff who always wore her hair in pigtails.
"Yes, please." Lupin pointed at Hannah.
"Boggarts are related to dementors, actually," the girl said, nervously glancing at the wardrobe. "Their magic reveals our deepest fears to them and they use that fear to defend themselves."
"Excellent, five points to Hufflepuff," Lupin said. "Miss Granger, do you have more?"
Surprised at being called out, Hermione nodded. "While dementors eat souls, a boggart will eat any kind of emotion and excess magic a magical being gives off. They are especially prone to breaking into magical homes and settling in dark corners where it is harder for magicals to reach in the first place." She pointed at the wardrobe. "I guess it wasn't very hard to lure one in there."
"No, it wasn't. Do you know why witches and wizards commonly don't suffer boggarts as house guests?" Lupin asked with a small smile. "They're not malicious and won't attack without provocation."
"But they're leeching off magic," Hermione replied promptly. "One boggart in a big family home won't do much damage, but if it breeds, the people will feel it. Magical drain is a known malady and the cure ranges from removal of the boggart and a time of rest, to rest and potion intervention. If the leech affects the core over a long time, the damage might even be incurable, resulting in permanently lower power levels of the victim."
"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." Lupin looked over the class. "Now, the spell to fight a boggart is very easy, but what makes it hard is the intention behind it. You see, to drive away a boggart, you must face your fear and transform it into something ridiculous. And that's also the incantation of the spell: riddikulus!" He wrote it on the blackboard. "Now together!"
Everyone called out the incantation and then tried out the wand movement.
When Lupin was satisfied that everybody could do it, he continued, "The next step requires quick thinking and determination. Facing your greatest fear will be paralyzing, so you need to be able to come up with something that's guaranteed to make you laugh. The longer you take, the smaller the chance to accomplish this. Take a few minutes and think about it. You're welcome to talk to your friends."
As the class was dividing into small groups to discuss ideas, Lupin came over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Harry, may I have a quick word with you?" he asked.
"Sure, Professor," Harry replied.
Lupin sighed. "I don't like singling you out, but since you have a rather unique history, I thought it prudent to have you do this after class. I won't have the other students fear for their lives if You-Know-Who were to appear."
"Uhm, thanks," Harry said, "but to be honest I don't actually know what my greatest fear is. Voldemort is pretty bad, but so were the dementors on the train. Or, um, a great snake I met last year."
"Not to mention your awful relatives," Hermione added in a quiet but sharp voice. "Nobody needs to see that if you don't want them to."
"All true," Lupin agreed. "That's why I'll give you all the chance to bow out, not just Harry. However, being able to fight a boggart is important, especially now that their big cousins are free to roam the country and will no doubt terrify a lot of people. That will very likely encourage the boggarts to occupy wizarding spaces."
Hermione smiled. "That's very thoughtful, really."
Lupin smiled back. "I'm here to teach, not to humiliate any of you." He clapped his hands. "Time's up! Are you ready?"
"Yes," the class called in various degrees of trepidation.
"Great," Lupin said warmly. "Now, I won't force anyone to do this in a class setting because facing your greatest fear is a rather intimate experience. However, if you feel that you'd like to try now instead of privately later, I'll award each student a point for bravery. It's your choice and I won't think any less of you for it."
That settled a lot of nerves and nearly half of the class decided to sit out. The other half, however, was applauded loudly for their courage.
Before any of them got to try, however, Professor Lupin stepped in front of the wardrobe, his wand raised, and motioned for the doors to open.
In a billow of darkness something pale and round appeared, hovering there for the merest of seconds. Then, Lupin's bellow of, "Riddikulus!" cut through the oppressive silence and the glowing thing transformed into a glittering bouncy ball that bounced off in a truly ridiculous fashion. The whole class laughed and clapped as the boggart shrieked and retreated into the wardrobe.
"Now, who of you wants to go first?" Lupin asked.
Bravely, five students raised their hands, and the professor picked Neville.
"One point for bravery to Gryffindor," Lupin said with a smile. "Thank you, Neville. I'm right here, so don't be afraid. If it is too much, I'll step in."
Nodding, Neville stepped in front of the wardrobe. His wand hand shook a little, but he stood firm.
The wardrobe doors opened ...
... and out stepped Professor Snape, scowling darkly and promptly beginning to berate Neville for all of his failings.
The poor boy nearly faltered, only to squeeze his eyes shut, swing his wand, and shout, "Riddikulus!"
The whole room exploded with laughter as Snape was suddenly clad in an old woman's tweet costume, and wearing a truly awful hat with a vulture on top. In his hand, boggart-Snape was holding an ugly purse, and his feet were stuck in oddly comfortable looking lady slippers with golden buckles.
The boggart never stood a chance and vanished with an angry hiss.
"Well done!" Lupin praised. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"
Harry was the first to clap Neville on his back and congratulate him, and Hermione was almost gushing in her praise. Even Ron, who rarely even talked to the boy, found nice words. After that, the rest of the class descended and Neville found himself the recipient of a few unexpected hugs. The one from Hannah Abbott rather managed to turn him a glowing shade of pink, but everyone was too elated to tease him for it.
Ron, telling his friends that it couldn't be so bad, went next. Knowing of his fear of spiders, neither Harry or Hermione were all that surprised to see a giant spider emerging from the wardrobe, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a horrifying sight.
Ron stared at the long, hairy legs and clicking pincers in terror. Only a nudge from Professor Lupin reminded him that he could fight back now ... which he did. With a great cry of, "Riddikulus!" and a slash of his wand, the spider suddenly sported rollerblades on each of its legs. It promptly lost its balance, stumbled comically like the world's most clumsy clown, and finally fell with a loud splatright on its face.
A snort escaped Ron, which made all the other students snort as well, and the boggart vanished in a black cloud.
After him, it was Susan Bone's turn, her greatest fear being the heart-wrenching sight of a whole family of headstones on a cold, deserted cemetery. She didn't really transform that scenery with her spell, but the inscriptions on the stones changed to something to outrageously irreverent and funny that everybody broke out laughing despite themselves.
"Very well done, Susan," Lupin praised her. "I hope no one will object if I award you another five points to your eleven for your resilience in the face of such grief."
Everybody clapped and whistled and Susan took her blushing self away so Hermione could go next.
Of course, being Hermione, she had do to things her way.
The boggart appeared in an angry flush of black smoke, only to ... hang there for a long while. Shapes formed into something Harry interpreted as a probable Voldemort, but with a report card full of Ts in his hands, only to vanish and try again with a wedding scene of all things, with Hermione as the bride and a man that oozed uselessness as the groom. Her parents appeared with the intent of taking Hermione out of Hogwarts, but were slapped with dozens of letters, all clearly from her friends. After that, there was Harry coming too close to a dementor, only the dementor was being repelled by a silvery light.
"Er," Professor Lupin said.
Hermione stared at the rapidly shifting images. Most of them were starting out as vaguely threatening but ended rather pitifully without any input on her part.
"Oh my god," she said derisively and snorted. "I know I've got problems when not even a boggart can manage to scare me properly."
Offended, the boggart chose to retreat into the relative safety of his wardrobe, leaving the class gaping at Hermione.
"Uhm, ten points to Gryffindor for an extraordinary demonstration of fighting fear with logic," Lupin said. "Because that'll work against fear almost as well as humour. Well done. Take another five points for a valuable lesson to your classmates."
Hermione nodded and went to Harry's side.
"That was brilliant," he said quietly. "How did you do that?"
"That's my mind for you," she replied with a grimace. "I'm a problem solver. Getting taken out of Hogwarts? It's bad, but there are always letters, and my parents won't do it to punish me or make me feel bad. Bad grades? Impossible, really, it's just silly nonsense. And Voldemort? I don't even know how he was before you defeated him. Knowing that he was a terrorist isn't the same thing as having lived during that time, so I can't honestly have him as my greatest fear."
"And the dementor?" Harry asked. Or rather, losing him to a dementor, but Harry was mindful of listening ears and kept that to himself.
"Well, Professor Lupin can teach us to defeat them," she replied as if it were that easy. In a whisper, she added, "And you also got a very good friend who'll defend you with his life."
They watched the rest of the volunteers facing off against the boggarts and thanked Professor Lupin when he let them go early so the others could have their attempt in private. Harry didn't mind waiting with Ernie Macmillan and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff. Seamus and Dean had opted to stay behind as well and even offered to wait for Harry who was called up last. He sent them on to Charms, however, and promised to follow as quickly as he could.
"Are you ready?" Lupin asked once the door to the classroom was closed.
"Yes." Harry nodded and got in front of the wardrobe.
Lupin waved his hand, opening the doors, and the boggart burst out in an angry cloud of black smoke. It stayed black but grew and grew until it towered over Harry, forming the tattered robes of a dementor. It's maw opened, a deep, rattling breath sounded, and the horrible, cold feeling of powerlessness crept into Harry's very being. Slowly, the monster leaned closer, mouth opening impossibly wide.
"No," Harry gasped, green light flimmering at the edge of his vision, "not again!" He swung his wand and cried, "Riddikulus!"
Ropes shot out of his wand, effectively binding the dementor until it looked like a very strange worm. Next, Dobby appeared, foot raised to kick the squirming dementor into the next volcano. However, Harry's imagination wasn't done yet. It conjured up Hermione in her best bossy mood, and she immediately began to berate the dementor for its stupidity.
"Incredible," Harry huffed and began to snicker when Dobby finally gave the thing the boot it deserved. "She was right."
"I'm quite speechless," Lupin confessed. He looked a little grey around the edges. "A dementor ... that's rather wise, Harry, fearing fear the most."
"Maybe ... nothing makes be feel as bad as being afraid," Harry admitted. "It freezes me up, and then bad things can happen. Professor ... will you teach me your spell? Expecto Patronum?"
Lupin exhaled after a moment of thought. "Yes, of course I will. It'll take some time, but I think you can do it."
"And Hermione, too? She wants to, and I want her to be able to protect herself against those things. Or better yet, all of us. Lots of my house mates have nightmares ... I do, too."
"That's ... I'm not sure I can manage that for the whole school," Lupin admitted. "As I said, it'll take time. Mmh ... except I've heard that there was a Duelling Club last year?"
"Yeah, for all of one session," Harry retorted. "Our last teacher was a moron. Sorry, but it's true."
"Well, maybe I'll be able to start a club and teach the Patronus. I'll need at least one other teacher to support me."
Harry said, "I could ask Professor Flitwick. His class is next, anyway."
The bell rang and Lupin nodded. "Alright. I'll write you a pass and send a note along with it." He looked at Harry pensively for a moment. "You really grew up to look a lot like your dad, Harry, but you've got your mum's heart."
Harry smiled softly. "Thanks."
It took Lupin only a couple of minutes to write his note and send Harry on his way. The ten points for a job well done were nice, but knowing that someone took a real interest in the students' safety was much more rewarding to Harry than points could ever be.
oOo
After Charms, Harry told his friends about Professor Lupin's offer, and that Professor Flitwick had seemed rather excited at the prospect of a new club.
"Professor Flitwick said that might take all year to teach us the charm, but I think it'd be worth it," Harry said. "And it's only one hour a week."
"You don't have to convince me," Hermione said. "I'm in!"
Seamus shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
The whole Quidditch team raised their hands, and after that nearly all of Gryffindor followed.
"Cool," Harry said with a pleased grin. "Lavender, will you inform the other houses?"
"Sure," she said easily and made a note in a little book. "Can I quote you?"
"Quote me on what?" Harry asked, confused.
"What you just told us. You're the instigator of this club, it's only fair that you'll get mentioned in my new student paper." Lavender preened under the astonished stares of her house mates.
"When did you decide this?" Seamus asked. "And how will you do that?"
"A simple magical press isn't that expensive," she replied. "I'll write my parents tonight, I'm sure they'll help."
"A school paper! That's brilliant, Lavender!" Hermione nearly bounced on the bench. "You could publish study tips, and schedules, and riddles, and all the interesting things about Hogwarts that no one knows because no one ever reads Hogwarts, A History."
"I could use ideas," Lavender said generously, "and if someone wants to write articles, they're welcome."
"Will there be room for advertising?" Fred called.
"Or complaints?" George added.
"Yes to both," Lavender said loudly.
Just like that, the ice was broken and she was swarmed by curious and eager students. Even Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws migrated over to their table, displacing the less enthusiastic Gryffindors.
Nobody minded too much, though, as Hogwarts rarely had anything truly new to offer. Creating their own newspaper seemed almost outlandish to the wizardborn students, while the muggleborns were already thinking about how to get the project going - and keep it going past the first flush of excitement.
"Lavender's plan is ambitous," Hermione said, looking at the girl holding court, "but she'll be good at it, I think."
"Hogwarts might need a bit of an overhaul, though," Harry replied. "What with only one sports team and no art or sciences. What will she even write about when it's all rather boring?"
"For the allegedly premier school in the world it does seem a bit lacking," Hermione agreed. "When my parents investigated Beaubatons, they were floored by how many clubs the school offers. Music, divided by instruments, even, and art, and drama, and several different kinds of sports. Quidditch is fine, I suppose, but it's certainly a bit boring if only one team per house gets to play. We don't even have reserve teams."
"And you decided against going there to stay with me," Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry. You deserve much better."
"We all deserve better." Hermione slanted a look at the head table, where the teachers sat rather warily through the meal. "Well, if Lavender gets her newspaper - and I'll do my best to help her - then Hogwarts will have to change. Newspapers have a way of revealing faults that direct complaints will never manage, and there's a lot of suboptimal stuff to report here."
"Maybe she can start with Buckbeak." Harry pointed to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was positively gloating over a letter. "Look how satisfied he is with himself. I'm sure that means trouble."
"That whole boy means trouble," Hermione huffed.
After lunch, they all trudged to the History classroom. Nobody was keen on a lecture from Binns, and none less than Harry, who had learned a lot about goblins over the summer and couldn't stomach the thought of wasting time on yet another rebellion.
"I'll read ahead in the book," he told Hermione after they'd chosen their tables. "Don't be angry, alright?"
"I'm not angry," she smirked. "How do you think I maintained my grades?"
During class, Binns' droning made for an oddly soothing background noise. Half of their friends were asleep. If the book weren't so interesting, Harry would be half tempted to join them. History being his last class of the day made staying awake even more of a challenge. Thankfully, Hermione next to him had no problem checking every few minutes that he was still active.
"This has got to change," Harry groaned as they trudged out of the classroom. "Where are you headed now?"
"I will take one class of Muggle Studies, just to see what it's like," Hermione said. "I already cancelled, I really just want to get an impression. Next to History, I think it might be the class most in need of modernisation."
Harry eyed her warily. "Are you up to something?"
She smirked at him. "Why ever are you asking?"
Deciding that he didn't need to know right now, especially with his own club hopefully underway, he let Hermione go on and began looking for an empty room.
"This way, Harry Potter sir," Dobby called from a corner where no other students could see him and beckoned him over. "Dobby be finding perfect room for Harry Potter sir!"
"Really?" Curious, Harry followed the elf. The way was long, up to the seventh floor, and when Dobby stopped in front of a wall across from an ugly tapestry of someone who looked rather crazy, he asked, "Where is the door?"
"It be coming when Harry Potter sir be thinking about it. Harry Potter sir be walking three times along the wall. At the same time Harry Potter sir be thinking about what kind of room he be needing."
"Magic," Harry sighed, but did as he was told. To his surprise, there really appeared a sturdy door with pretty but effective looking metal reinforcements. "Uh, alright."
Carefully, he tried the knob. The door swung open easily and revealed a comfy looking study with a large window overlooking the Quidditch pitch, a fireplace, and a beautiful large desk made of dark wood.
"Why does this room only appear when people think about it?" Harry asked Dobby, stepping inside and having a closer look around. Behind him, the door closed softly, and a lock engaged.
"This be the Come And Go Room," the elf supplied readily. "Hogwarts elves be using it to store lost items. Room be everything what a visitor needs, and it be secret. It be Hogwarts room, not school room, so elves not be telling secret to students."
"But they told you, and you told me. Is it really alright?" Harry asked.
"House elves be knowing that Harry Potter sir be a great wizard. Elves be wanting to help." Dobby hopped onto the small sofa across from a wall of bookshelves. "The Come And Go Room be knowing when it be needed. Harry Potter sir could leave things here, like letters from goblins."
Thinking it over, Harry decided to decline the offer for now. "Thanks, but I'd rather have my most important things with me for now." A Gringotts letter popped up on the desk. "Speaking of mail, is this for me?"
"Dobby be picking up Harry Potter sir's mail on Fridays now, because Harry Potter sir be having time to answer it over the weekend."
"Perfect." Harry smiled at his friend. "You really know what I need."
Dobby smiled shyly. "Dobby be bringing a snack."
Left alone with fruit and tea, Harry opened the heavy envelope. It was his inheritance test with lots of legal documents attached, all of which were requiring his signature.
"Holy crap," he whispered as he read over the letter from Sharptooth. "That's what he meant when he said that we'd talk about it later. What is all this?!"
An hour would have never sufficed to explain everything to him, and it certainly wasn't something he could trust Hermione's unprotected mind with. Knowing that, it was even harder for Harry to come to terms with it.
"Typical," he sighed and fished Sirius' communication journal from his carrier bag.
September 3rd, 1993
Sirius,
I got Sharptooth's letter about my inheritance test. Did you know about this?
Love,
Harry
Sirius' scrawl appeared almost immediately.
Hey pup,
yes, I knew. I'm your guardian, at least in the goblins' eyes, and they trust me with your welfare. However, it wasn't very important, and I didn't want to ruin your trip to Hogwarts. Not any more than it already was ruined, in any case. Being the Heir of Slytherin by right of conquest is rather ruin-worthy, if I do say so myself.
Harry groaned and raked both hands through his hair before picking up his pen again.
This must be a bad joke. People leaving me money and stuff I somehow get, even if it's weird, but conquering a whole family? How? Why am I the new Head of Family? What does that even mean? It'll be ages before Sharptooth can explain all this stuff to me!
For having spent a decade in a dank, dark prison, Sirius' penmanship was astoundingly neat.
Sharptooth knows everything about it, but I'm no slouch either. Heir of an old and noble pureblood family, here, remember?
Harry giggled about the somehow playfully affronted words.
Magic can be mysterious, but Right Of Conquest is an age-old established magical phenomenon, both forged from rule of law and rule of magic, Sirius continued. In essence, magic punishes those who attack without just cause, and rewards those who persevere in the face of unjust persecution. For you, it means that You-Know-Who attacked you unjustly thrice - once as a baby, once at the end of your first year at Hogwarts, and then again at the end of your second year. As he was defeated soundly every time, magic obviously ruled you the new Head of House Slytherin's line. It's an infamous family name, it's true, but there are quite a few benefits attached to it even now.
Please explain, because my head is about to explode, Harry quickly scratched out.
Of course, pup. Being head of a house generally makes you its lord. Unless the house is noble or ancient, this doesn't mean much, other than that you are the patriarch and are expected to make decisions about your family's involvement in society: politics, marriage matches, business, etc. As House Slytherin was both noble and ancient once, but fell into ruin with its last descendants, the Gaunts, its standing is largely lost. You can revive the line now, and claim everything that still belongs to the family. Deeds to property, titles, and of course the living relatives. For better or worse, you're now responsible for them. Magic more or less expects you now to make it better.
Harry groaned. That was just great.
So I have to do another inheritance test to find out who of the Gaunts is still alive? What if they're horrible people? I don't need more of those in my life!
Sirius was quick to reassure him, however, and wrote, All done, kiddo, the goblins are thorough. Sharptooth will send the information as soon as you feel up to dealing with it. Just know that none of them are worth saving, and that the goblins will have an eye on them just in case. Maybe give yourself time until Christmas, we can talk it over then?
That calmed Harry somewhat, but there was still the matter of strange people leaving him stuff, and he wrote as much.
Sirius was sympathetic, but couldn't offer much consolation. You're their saviour, kiddo, whether you like it or not. If you want my advice, accept it gracefully and do something worthwhile with the money and land. Give it to your house elves, if you want, the little guys can always use more land to grow their food ... or yours.
Harry brightened at once. Great idea!
Just be careful. Sharptooth can get away with a lot since Dumbledore isn't able to exert influence over your holdings, and your parents left instructions to work with the money and investments, but the old man could still notice and ask unwanted questions. I propose selling the the small properties and investing the money in something bigger that your elves can actually use.
That was exactly what Harry wanted, and if it worked out, Betty and Dobby would have land to work with that wasn't as difficult as Potter's Field.
I'll tell Sharptooth to do that, he wrote. Dobby and Betty helped me out with my first two properties, they'll surely do well with more.
Although they had a hefty price tag, Sirius teased. Warding is always expensive, especially with Malijar's Gift as ward stones, but I was a little shocked at first, to be honest.
I know, me too, but I feel safe there. Like I belong, Harry answered. To me, it's worth it, and I guess the goblins wanted me to be safe, as well.
It took Sirius a while to answer, and when he did, his words looked a little unsteady. Sorry, I just needed a drink. Yes, it feels very safe in your cottage. I communed with your ward stone yesterday and it is ... invested in your wellbeing. Its efforts even extend to me, and for that I can only thank you.
You're family, Harry replied, a little unsteady himself. To distract himself from the thickness in his throat, he changed the topic. So, I'll look through the catalogue of properties this weekend, decide which ones I want to sell, and let Sharptooth know. I'll probably freak out over the Slytherin thing again soon, though.
You have all the right in the world to freak out about it, Sirius answered. I'll be here whenever you need me. Speaking of here, my healers decided that they'll likely send me away for treatment in January, and have the goblins apply for asylum for me in Italy. The ICW, the International Confederation of Wizards, has a seat there, and they'll hear special cases such as mine. For now, they want to keep me close to the mind healers and make sure that I can defend myself appropriately. Your friend Brady is a good one. I like talking to him, although he refused to take me on as a patient. Said it wouldn't be fair to us both. Still, he's an interesting fellow, and his snakes are a friendly bunch.