Part 8
Harry only had an hour until he'd promised to meet Healer Williams via his journal. To make the most of it, he excused himself and let Dobby take him to the Come And Go Room, where he spread out the papers from Gringotts and tried to get an overview of the properties he'd inherited from well-meaning witches and wizards.
"Bloody hell, there's more than I thought," Harry sighed after the first dozen. "Dobby?" The elf appeared and looked expectantly at Harry. "Uhm, so I inherited a lot of houses and stuff. Sirius said it might be best to sell the lot and buy more land for you and Betty to work with, but maybe you can go and have a look first? Just to see whether we can use some of it? Maybe keep the best of them to meet friends during the holidays?"
"Dobby can," the elf squeaked. "May Dobby look at the catalogue?"
"Er, sure, help yourself! And take Betty with you if you think she can help with the decision." Harry watched, fascinated, as Dobby took the catalogue and flipped rapidly through the pages. "How soon do you think you'll be back?"
"Dobby be needing a couple of days, maybe a little longer. It be important work." Dobby bounced eagerly. "Dobby be starting right now, while Harry Potter sir be safe in the Come And Go Room."
Harry smiled. "Thank you, Dobby. Please mark the ones you want to keep, yeah?"
"Dobby will," the elf promised and popped away, taking the catalogue with him.
With one less thing to deal with, at least for the moment, Harry turned his attention to the list of monetary bequeathments. Sharptooth had scrawled a warning in red that all the galleons would have to go to the Potter family vault, but Harry felt confident that he and his elf friends wouldn't need them anytime soon.
The most important thing was still the Slytherin thing. Even sleeping on it, twice, hadn't made any of it easier to comprehend. Now, however, Harry felt at least up to checking out the family members to see what needed to be done, if anything. He made a note on his writing pad to ask Sharptooth for the details but decided to wait for Dobby's evaluation before writing a letter.
If Sirius is to be believed, the lot might be criminal, Harry thought uneasily. What do I do? Visit them in prison? I don't think I want to go to Azkaban if they're there; the dementors at Hogwarts are bad enough ...
The grandfather clock in the corner chimed five and the green journal flashed brightly. Eagerly, Harry opened it and watched Healer Williams' scrawl appear.
September 5th, 1993
Hello Harry,
Are you ready for our session? I hope you're well; Sharptooth told me about you conquering the Slytherin family line. That must be difficult to deal with - I certainly wouldn't know how to react if something like that was dropped on me without warning! If you need to talk about it, I'll definitely try to help with everything, not just the dealing-with-it part.
-Brady
Harry took a deep breath. Trust the man to know what was troubling him the most.
Hello Brady,
Yeah, it's weird to suddenly have a second family line to deal with when I don't even know how to deal with my own. Sirius told me to take it slow and that whoever is left of the family (Gaunt was it, I believe) wasn't worth getting anxious over. I'll ask Sharptooth for the family tree and whatever else he can give me and then decide what to do. If they're criminals or Death Eaters, I'm not sure I ever want to meet them, though. Ron says Death Eaters are the worst and can't be redeemed.
-Harry
Healer Williams took a minute before text appeared on the next page of the journal.
You don't have to meet anyone, especially not if they're convicted criminals. However, since your godfather was unjustly imprisoned, I'd recommend checking the court transcripts, just in case. Who knows who else is suffering like he was.
Hermione said the same thing when we all talked about the dementor attack on Friday. She said that the paper should have mentioned the file number for Sirius' case, and that it is very suspicious that they didn't. The Ministry also hasn't replied to her letter yet. Sometimes I can't get over how clever she is! A few of our friends are doubtful of Sirius' guilt now, which is ... soothing, I guess. It's hard not to tell them everything when I'm so happy to have him. Harry paused. Then, he wrote, But maybe I could ask Hermione to write an article in our new student newspaper. Just her thoughts about the missing court case number and stuff. A few weeks before Sirius leaves for Italy might be a good time, or what do you think?
Williams answered, Not a bad idea at all to encourage people to think for themselves. Just be careful, alright? Sirius' safety comes first. That being said, when will the paper go live? Will people outside the school be able to get it, or maybe even the managers at Gringotts? It might be interesting to get news directly from the students, and Gringotts is always interested in knowing what their future patrons want.
I have no idea, but Lavender, the paper's founder, said she can get a cheap press from her parents. I'll ask what her plans are. I don't even know if she can take money, that's one thing the goblins might help her with. I also don't know how often she'll publish. She and her helpers will probably tell us next week. I'll keep you posted!
Try once a month first, Healer Williams replied. That gives you lots of time to write articles and do the research for it. You should also advise your friend to mind the international press codex. If you can manage that, your newspaper will already be better than the Daily Prophet.
Once a month might about be the limit anyway, Harry hastily wrote. I've never thought about it before, but Hogwarts is kind of boring. Except Quidditch we don't have any sports, and Ancient Runes is the only language class. Any tips on that front?
Healer Williams obviously had a lot to say about that subject and wrote down a whole list of things that made Harry's head swim. One idea was conspiciously missing, however.
Why not a history club?, Harry asked when Williams finally ran out of steam. That one could really do some good.
Exactly, was the prompt answer. Why make it even easier for your headmaster to keep letting Binns teach? It's well known among the goblins that Binns disliked the horde while he was alive. If you start teaching yourself, you won't help anyone but the headmaster and Binns. I usually don't recommend failing, but maybe you and your friends should think about getting an International OWL for that subject. It's harder to achieve, but it would at least justify employing a tutor. If you find people to do this with you, you could share the cost.
I thought I'd try boycotting first, Harry admitted. I told Hermione that I want Sharptooth to reduce my tuition because History is so bad. Maybe not going will help, although Dumbledore might try to get that overturned.
Do you have someone to champion your cause if need be?Williams asked.
Yes, I think so. Harry grinned. My godbrother's gran is great, she's on the board of govenors, and Professor Lupin was all set to help me, as well. He told the healer all about Mrs. Longbottom's one-sided argument with Dumbledore and ended with, So what do you think about the headmaster's strange reason to keep me in Divination? My friends and I think it's stupid, and that Dumbledore maybe wants Professor Trelawney to tell a prophecy or something. Ron said that Dumbledore might think that I could be a trigger for that, although everybody else says that it's not proven that this is how it works.
Harry ... Williams paused for a long moment. That is a rather astounding leap to make. Your friends came up with that?
Yes, they did. But honestly, what other reason would Dumbledore have to keep me in such a useless class? I can't believe he'd want me to be stupid, or can you?
First of all, you've got better friends than I thought. You told me that the students were largely shunning you after the Heir of Slytherin thing, but apparently a lot of your housemates got over themselves over the summer. That's fantastic!
I'm not sure why, Harry replied, but I'm glad. I guess most of them really were just afraid. It's not like they didn't have any reason not to be.
Still, it was unfair of them to treat you so badly. My advice is to not sweep it under the rug just because all is well now. If an opportunity presents itself, talk to them about it and let them know that they hurt you. If they're as willing to suuport you as they appear to be, they'll listen.
Harry grimaced. Won't that make me a whiner?
You won't appear weak just because you want to be treated decently, Williams countered. You're not obligated to forgive each and every slight against you. Your relatives didn't leave you any choice, but you already know that that's not healthy.
But how do I do that? Harry wanted to know. Where would I even start?
To answer that, let's return to our discussion about Ron and his tendency to monopolise your time whenever it suits him. Williams' writing was even and relaxed, which in turn helped to relax Harry. You want to establish boundaries. Did you have a chance to do that during the last few days?
Harry could've slapped his forehead, he felt so stupid. Yeah, I did, actually. He wanted to borrow my broom and said that I should just leave my trunk unlocked so I wouldn't be inconvenienced.
That seems rather forward, Williams replied and Harry could almost see his frown.
Well, I told him that I like to know what's happening with my stuff, and that shut him up pretty well. Also, two of my dorm mates told me that Ron borrowed three galleons last year without asking me. Harry squirmed and sighed. He'd much rather forget about it but knew that Healer Williams would have eventually found out. He was really good at that. Dean, Seamus and I talked about it and I decided to let Ron's older brothers know ... I didn't want to go to Professor McGonagall with this. Dean said that taking three galleons is a big deal. Ron was wrong doing that, but I don't want him expelled.
Wow. I'm sorry, Harry. That's a pretty harsh breach of trust. How are you feeling about it?
I'm still angry, Harry admitted, writing each letter haltingly. I thought about confronting him with it, but I know that he'll just say that I'm rich, and that we're friends anyway and would have given him the money if he'd asked.
That's no reason to skip the asking part, Williams replied in bold pen strokes. I'm a little horrified right now, and glad that Dobby has secured your things.
Me too. But I'm also sad. Sometimes I feel like I don't really know Ron. It was hard for Harry to write this when they'd been through so much together. His brothers might talk to him. Or prank him, which is kind of the same thing for them. Harry huffed. I don't know what to do with him.
You don't have to do anything right now, Williams wrote carefully. When I told you that it is my job to offer you perspective, I meant it. He's your friend. What you decide to do about your relationship with him is completely up to you.
But what would you do? Harry pressed. Personally, I mean.
Williams took a while, and his writing was slow when it finally appeared on the page. To be honest, I have very little patience for people who behave like Ron currently does. I don't suffer betrayal lightly, and theft not at all. Three galleons are not change, Harry. Three galleons might feed a small family for a week if they're frugal. If he were my friend, I'd confront him and ask for the money back. I wouldn't accept any excuses or claims that I don't need it because I'm rich. I'd want to make a point that stealing is never acceptable, and that another theft would end the friendship immediately.
Harry was speechless for a moment. Uh, okay.
Yes. That's me, Harry. I've had some unpleasant experiences and have adjusted my boundaries accordingly. How much you're willing to suffer in the name of friendship is up to you, but I'd advise against forgiving monetary infractions, because then they'll keep happening, and the scale will get larger and larger. Letting small things slide is a good way to invite big things, and I'm certain you don't need this kind of stress in your life.
That was true and Harry answered, No one needs that. Thanks, Brady. I'll keep it in mind! As I said, I won't let Ron go through my things anymore, and I'll make him promise to be extra careful with my broom when he borrows it from now on.
I'm proud of you. It's not easy saying no to a friend.
It's getting easier, Harry retorted somewhat peevishly, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
He'll learn that lesson eventually. Keep at it and you'll have found out what you're willing to accept in no time, Williams wrote. What else is new at Hogwarts?
Harry brightened at once. Me and Hermione went flying on hippogriffs after lunch! She was super afraid but still did it and I'm so proud of her. But the best thing this week was learning that I have a godbrother. Can you imagine? He was too shy to tell me, and Dumbledore also didn't tell me, even though he's supposedly my magical guardian, but I'll find out what this is all about and do the bond with Neville anyway. I think it'll be good for both of us.
That is the boy whose grandmother helped you win your appeal, isn't he? You wrote earlier about your godbrother but didn't go into details. In any case, congratulations!
Thanks! Yes, that's him, his name is Neville. I guess Mrs. Longbottom has a really strong personality, but I like her, even if she rather seems to intimidate my poor brother. Harry grinned.Seems like you were right about me and strong characters.
A few drops of ink landed on the page, like Williams was shaking with laughter, perhaps. As long as she doesn't try to browbeat you. She might not have a godmother bond with you, but she might still want to take charge, now that she's aware of your headmaster's unusual behaviour. It might be well-intentioned, but it can easily backfire on you.
Thanks for warning me, Harry scribbled gratefully. I never see such things coming.
The grandfather clock struck six in the evening, surprising Harry.
So late already, he wrote, disappointed. I feel like we didn't really talk at all. It's different than being together for it.
Just different, or worse? Williams inquired.
Harry didn't need to think about it. I'd rather sit with you and reallytalk. My hand is cramping from writing so much.
I'll definitely see you during the holidays, Williams promised. We'll make the best of it until then.
Same time next week?
Williams replied, I'm looking forward to it. Take care, Harry.
You too, Brady. Bye!
Feeling a little better, Harry put his things back into his bag and then took a few minutes to just stare out of the large window. The sun was setting already, painting the lawn and forest with golden light. The mood was a little melancholic and drove the point home that the summer was truly gone now and a new year in Harry's life had begun.
"Dobby be back, Harry Potter sir!"
Harry jumped at the loud pop. "Good lord, Dobby!"
Dobby grinned and held out a page from the property catalogue. "It not be difficult decision after all. Dobby and Betty be wanting to keep this."
Taking the page, Harry made a conscious effort to calm his hammering heart. "Thanks. Oh! That's the nice one by the sea! But wasn't this far away? Like the South of France or something?"
Dobby allowed that it was so.
"How will we ever go there?" Harry asked. "The headmaster will know if I leave Britain, I'm sure."
Dobby's eyes were gleaming in that sly way Harry had come to associate with Big Plans. "Dobby and Betty be wanting to open a little pension. Harry Potter sir be saying that us house elves be taking extra work if they not be having enough."
"I did, but isn't a pension a lot of work for only two elves? Not that you aren't great, because you clearly are, but pampering folks is a full-time job." Harry let his gaze wander over the light brown buildings.
The whole estate was kind of fragmented, one building rising up on a medium high terrasse, another one sitting lower and facing a large pool area. There were more, all seemingly connected to each other. There was both ample sun and shade, with lots of cypresses and other greenery all over the large garden, and everything looked positively rustic and vintage. With more than a dozen bedrooms, the property would certainly be able to function as a pension, and leave room for expansion, should it work out.
"Dobby and Betty be working to find more elves to help in exchange for food," Dobby explained. "We be starting with only half a dozen guests. We be wanting to grow our own food to make wizards healthy - if they be nice, of course. No bad wizards allowed."
"That's a good idea," Harry grinned. Sighing, he took a closer look at the many rooms, the terraces and the winter garden. "Alright. Talk this over with Sharptooth and let him help you set everything up. Heck, I don't even know how to do the warding, but we have to do that. There are muggles living right beside the property. Maybe he should look into buying the plots around the estate whenever something becomes available."
"Harry Potter sir not be needing to worry," Dobby told him, open face asking to trust him, which Harry did. Implicitly. "Dobby and Betty be doing everything necessary. The pension be a good idea, Harry Potter sir, we be promising."
"I believe you," Harry agreed. "I guess I'm just a little sad because I won't get to see it before I'm rid of Dumbledore's guardianship."
Dobby's ears drooped a little. "That be true. Dobby be very sorry. We be making everything extra beautiful. It be home away from home for Harry Potter sir. And ..." The elf hesitated.
"And?" Harry asked. "What is it, Dobby?"
Wringing his hands, Dobby glanced up at Harry. "Dobby be able to show Harry Potter sir memories in his dreams. It be special favour and not many wizards be wanting to have house elves so close."
"But you wouldn't do it to harm me, right?" Harry put the catalogue page on the desk and went around it to crouch before his friend. "You'd do it to show me what you're building. It'll almost be like I was there?"
Dobby nodded eagerly. "It be exactly like Harry Potter sir be there! Dobby be wanting to show Harry Potter sir everything us elves be doing."
"Then I want it. If I can't help you, I at least want to know what has you so excited. Besides, it really is a beautiful estate. I can't believe someone just left it to me." Harry took Dobby's still clasped hands in his and squeezed them. "Just ... don't do too much. I want you to be happy."
Dobby smiled, delighted. "Betty and Dobby be so happy with much work! Dobby be going now and meet Steward Sharptooth."
"Wait!" Harry called. "If you're going there anyway, let me write my letter. It'll just take a few minutes." He went back to the desk, ripped a page of paper from his writing pad and penned a quick note. "There, I think I've got everything covered for now. Thanks, Dobby!"
With a broad grin, the house elf popped away, leaving Harry standing in the burnished sunlight that was streaming into the study.
A pension, Harry thought, shaking his head in bewilderment. What'll come next?
oOo
During dinner, Harry kept silent and listened to the talk around him. Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were still busy discussing the new student newspaper, specifically what to call it. As they came up with a monthly publication by themselves, Harry left them to it, merely passing on Healer Williams' advice about the international press codex and then turning to Seamus and Dean, who were talking about football and rugby. Ron, huffy because no one in his immediate vicinity wanted to talk about Quidditch for a change, shovelled food into his mouth as if it were a sport.
Afterwards, most students meandered to their common rooms, but Harry veered off towards the library. Hermione looked at him questioningly and beamed when he waved her over.
"You're not doing homework, are you?" she teased and bumped into his shoulder.
"Nah. I want to find out what being godbrothers means."
Hermione sobered. "I'll help you look. We could ask Madam Pince, but who knows what she'll tell Headmaster Dumbledore."
"The headmaster knows that I know. Neville's gran went back to tell him off, remember?" Harry looked briefly around and then took Hermione's warm hand, curling his fingers around hers. "I'll finish the bond anyway, I just want to know what it means for Neville and me."
"If there aren't any books about that in the library, I'll buy one," Hermione offered. "After all, it might concern me one day, as well."
Harry blushed a little, noting that she did, too. "Deal."
Thankfully it wasn't hard to locate a book about magical bonds. Hermione knew how to work the register and took care to show Harry, who'd had no idea that finding books for research could be so easy.
"Have you shown Ron as well?" Harry asked.
Hermione scoffed. "I tried, but pearls before swines and all. I've given up; I've got enough to do without dragging his grades out of the gutter."
Taken aback, Harry gaped a little at her. "Uhm, alright. Are you, uhm, well, are you okay?"
"I'll be," Hermione sighed. "Look, it's just ... I spent so much time last year trying to help him, and you, get through your classes. Over the summer, my parents made me unterstand that I'm not responsible for your education, and that I'll only harm our friendship if I try to mother you all the time." She flushed a little and averted her gaze. "At least with you, mothering is not an option."
"Thanks, 'Mione. I'll do better from now on," Harry whispered and kissed her cheek. "Now let's check this out before Madam Pince chases us out."
In the end, the information wasn't as interesting as Harry had anticipated. Godbrothers were the sons of parents who'd made each other godparents to their kids. The bond only solidified that, adding a magical snap that fostered loyalty and an awareness of the other's needs.
"It seems to be a lovely bond," Hermione said after they'd both gone over the relevant paragraphs twice. "Neville certainly deserves some loyalty and friendship."
"I really wish someone had told me sooner," Harry replied. "But maybe it's better this way. I'm older and can decide for myself, and Neville will know that I really want him as a brother."
Hermione surprised him by nearly telling him the same thing Healer Williams had already told him. "Just take care that Mrs. Longbottom won't take over once you've confirmed the bond. After what you've told us, she's the sort to do that."
"My bond is with Neville, not his gran," Harry said. "But you're right. She might be tough, but I don't want a stranger suddenly deciding things for me. I'll take it up with Neville and put it in the vows."
"Do you think he'll mind?" Hermione carefully closed the old book and stroked the cover.
"I don't think so, but if he does ... well, that's for him to deal with. My healer said that I need to set boundaries, and that's mine."
She smiled. "That's good, Harry. You're too old to be treated like a little kid anyway."
They put the book away again and went to the common room, where Ron was upon them before they'd even fully stepped inside.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "Just taking off like that after vanishing in the afternoon, too; are you having secrets now, Harry?"
"We were in the library," Harry informed the other boy coolly. "Hermione saw me go in that direction and followed, otherwise she'd been here. And this afternoon you went flying with the others. What was I supposed to do, sit there and wait around for you?"
Ron scowled. "Whatever. I wanted to play a round of chess, but no one wants to take me on. Come, before the prefects send us to bed."
"Not tonight," Harry declined. "I wanted to ... ah, there's Neville. See you in the dorm, Ron."
"What about you, Hermione?" Ron asked as Harry walked off. "You're smart enough."
Harry tuned out her snippy reply and plonked down on an ottoman close to Neville's table. "Hey."
"Hey, Harry. What's up? Are you arguing with Ron?" Neville asked, looking worriedly to where Ron was just losing Hermione to what Harry spontaneously dubbed the Paper Troupe. Over the afternoon it seemed to have acquired new members, among them Colin and Dennis Creevey and their infamous camera.
"Not really. I just wanted to let you know that I looked up the godbrother bond in the library and copied the vows for us to take whenever we're ready." Harry paused, but decided to just get it over with. "Er, I hope you won't be insulted if I change the vow a little. I want you as my godbrother, but I don't want your gran to think that she can make me do stuff. And I guess you wouldn't like my relatives having any say about you, either, even if they're muggles."
Neville smiled crookedly. "Don't worry, I understand very well. I'm just happy that you're not angry at me for not telling you about it. So, when would you like to do it?"
"Er, I haven't thought that far ahead, yet," Harry admitted. "I thought we could make a small ceremony of it, invite a few friends, if you want."
"Uh, really?" Neville fumbled with his quill and dropped it. Ink splattered across his notes.
"Sure. It's not everyday I gain a brother, is it?" Harry grinned. "I even got a friend who can take care of refreshments."
Neville still looked overwhelmed. "Refreshments?"
"It can be a party," Harry said. "It should be a party. Though maybe after Hermione's birthday? I'm still planning that one."
"Er, whenever you like," Neville stammered, visibly trying to collect his thoughts. "I'll help."
"Great!" Beaming, Harry sat back. "Do you want the table to yourself? You seemed busy before I came over."
Neville shook his head. "Not really. I was just planning next year's planting season. We rotate crops regularly to keep the soil healthy."
"I think I heard about that in muggle school," Harry admitted, "but I don't know the first thing about it."
"I can show you, if you like. See here? That's wolfsbane. It prefers certain nutrients, but every couple of years we have to plant it elsewhere before they leech the ground dry. Same with the dittany. It's great for healing wounds, but it loses potency if the soil is weak. Rotating everything is a lot of work, but it saves money for fertilizer and keeps the plants strong."
Harry looked over the plans Neville had written out. There were scribbles of the grounds, with arrows pointing all over the place. "Who is doing the planting?"
"We have several house elves. They're very proud of their work." Neville eyed Harry. "Have you seen one, yet? They're not very common."
"Er, yes. Last year a house elf tried to protect me from Slytherin's monster. He went a bit overboard, but he meant well." Now that that horrible year was over, Harry could chuckle a bit about it. Dobby had made it up to him in a thousand different ways since then and Harry was only too willing to forgive and forget. "I think they're fantastic. So magical."
"They are," Neville agreed quietly. "My best friend at home is Nobby. He's especially great with the dangerous plants and always knows what they need. He's taught me most everything I know so far."
"Can I ask how you, er, pay your house elves? I mean, I know that they belong to the family, but surely you'd want to reward them sometimes?" Harry hoped that he wasn't making Neville too curious with his questions, but he wanted to know what the difference between family elves and free elves was.
"Er, well, except for being deathly insulted if we tried to actually pay them, ours sometimes ask for new or better tools, or more land to work with. It's not payment as such, but we try to let them do things they enjoy next to their regular work. Nobby really likes diving, very unusual for a house elf, so one of my ancestors had a pond installed on our estate. Of course, the elves use it to grow even more herbs that we can sell, but Nobby can go there and have fun whenever he likes." Neville shrugged. "That's how it's always been, and as long as they seem happy, we'll keep doing it."
Harry was relieved that he was apparently doing everything right. "That's good to know," he offered.
"Second and third years, pack up your stuff. It's high time for bed," Percy Weasley called. "No, Ron, you may not finish the game against yourself. It'll still be there tomorrow."
"I wouldn't be so sure," of of the Weasley twins muttered and threw Ron a narrow look. The other twin smirked.
Shuddering, Harry helped Neville collect his papers. In front of the stairs, he gave Hermione a short hug and whispered the promise to be in the common room early for their special time alone. Her smile was brilliant, and then they all trotted up to their dorms to get ready for their first full week at school.
oOo
The next morning, Harry was beginning to reconsider letting Hermione teach him martial arts. While they didn't have as much time like they'd had on Saturday, her exercises were still incredibly demanding. Shorter breaks to catch his breath were one thing, the other were the higher number of repetitions. Punches, kicks, and blocks, it all was one huge blur in Harry's overwhelmed mind when she finally declared them done for the morning.
"It's only ten to eight," Hermione said. "Take a quick shower and then we'll have a lot of time for breakfast."
"Do we have to do this again on Wednesday?" Harry whined. "I can't lift my arms higher than so." He tried to raise his hand over his head and failed. The muscles simply refused. "It's evil."
She hugged him, her trim, yet slightly curved body making him blush. "I know. Three times a week is hard, but I want you to be somewhat able to defend yourself quickly."
"Let's just go a little bit slower," Harry begged, unsure whether he should find the bit of sweat on her gross or interesting. "Wood'll kill me if I can't hold on to my broom. Please?"
Hermione sighed. "Alright, we'll go a little slower. But you have to do your best."
"Of course," Harry reassured her. "Thanks." Deciding that he didn't mind Hermione's slight dampness, he tightened the embrace for a moment and inhaled her scent. A little embarrassed, he said, "I don't know how I'll wash my hair. It really hurts."
Hermione bit her lip, working hard not to laugh at him. "You'll manage, I'm sure. See you in a few minutes."
At breakfast, Dobby spoiled them with hot vegetable soup, fruit, and fragrant buttered bread with goat cheese and fig jam, decorated with edible flowers. It was unusual but delicious and warmed them right up in the slight chill of the great hall.
"What is that?" Ron asked as he sat down across from Harry. He eyed the bread distrustfully. "Why would you eat flowers?"
Harry shrugged. "It's good." He sipped his tea. "What do you think we'll be doing in Hagrid's class today?"
"Not something with hippogriffs, that's for sure," Ron replied. He filled his plate with sausages, eggs, and toast. "Maybe it's something normal, like a krup or something. I wonder why he hasn't asked yet to borrow your monster cat, Hermione."
"Crookshanks is not a monster, Ron," Hermione answered evenly. "Why would you even think that? He's staying out of your way."
"He's big and ugly." Ron inhaled a whole sausage, barely chewing before swallowing noisily. "If Scabbers were still alive, your monster would surely have terrorized him."
Hermione paled with fury. "But Scabbers isn't here, and you have no reason to say such things. Take it back."
"Nope." Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Your bloody cat is a menace, always lying in the way and bothering people."
"No one has complained yet," Harry said quietly, just as furious as Hermione about the nonsense Ron was spouting. "So, what is it to you? What's your problem? If you just want to hassle Hermione, you can stop right here. I won't listen to it any longer, and neither will she."
"Don't see how you can stop me," Ron muttered. "It's my right to complain about her bloody cat."
"Well," Fred (or George) said as he sat down next to Ron, "not stepping on him might keep him out of your hair."
"Or not trying to kick him," George (or Fred) added from Ron's other side. "We saw you, little brother, that wasn't nice."
"You tried to kick Crookshanks?" Hermione screeched. "How dareyou, Ronald Weasley!"
"He was in my way, lying around on the floor like he has a bloody right to!" Ron fumed.
"We don't know what part of his brain has shut off now, but we'll try to fix it," the twin on Ron's left said cheerfully.
"And write mum a long letter," the one to the right added.
"She might have some ideas."
"Thanks, guys," Harry said.
"Yes, thank you." Hermione glared daggers at Ron. "Just so you know, we are over, Ronald. You lay one hand on Crookshanks and your parents will have a pretzel for a son. You get me? Sorry, Harry, I lost my appetite. I'll see you outside." She grabbed her bag and cloak and stomped off, whispers following her exit.
Spluttering, Ron looked to Harry for help. "Why is she talking to me like that?"
"Why are you talking to her like that?" Harry shot back. Seeing Fred and George's disgust soothed his anger a little. "Leave Crookshanks alone, Ron. Talk to us again when you're ready to apologize to Hermione."
"But Harry!"
Harry ignored the redhead's dismayed shout as he swiftly followed his girlfriend out of the hall. He took his half eaten bread with him, resolving to have Dobby slip Hermione a snack later.
He didn't have to go far to catch up with Hermione. She was literally waiting outside for him, just behind the portal, and she was crying.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry," Harry murmured and pulled her a bit aside. "How can I help?"
"Can I have a hug?" she sniffled and gladly came into his embrace when he opened his arms. "He's such a prat. I know I promised to try, but I don't think I can be his friend anymore, Harry. Please don't be angry."
Harry scowled at the portal to the great hall. "It's not your fault. He was way out of line. Kicking Crookshanks would be like kicking Hedwig, and I hope he's clever enough to know that I wouldn't ever forgive him for that."
"What's wrong with him, anyway?" Hermione muttered. "It's like he's actively trying to put us off."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, he has succeeded." Harry rubbed Hermione's hunched back. "Will you be alright?"
"Yes, of course. I'm just ... shocked that he'd do that to someone's pet." Hermione loosened the embrace and wiped her eyes. "I told myself I wouldn't cry all over you again so soon."
"It wasn't your fault. Or mine." Harry smiled. "It's alright, 'Mione, I don't mind."
Instead of finding a warm place to spend the last quarter hour before class, they wandered down to Hagrid's hut and petted the corralled hippogriffs. Agapi had obviously taken a shine to Hermione; the mare had barely waited for Hermione to bow before she bowed back and nudged the girl's hands to be petted. Buckbeak was a bit more reserved and actually allowed the others to get a pat in.
Class was, unfortunately, the complete opposite of challenging. Hagrid was so scared to invite trouble that he had them feed flobberworms. Those weren't classed by the Ministry as boring by mistake, and the whole class except for a few Slytherins was groaning in disappointment.
"I bet Ron would want a krup now," Hermione muttered resentfully as they threw lettuce into their worms' pen.
"Poor Hagrid," Parvati said. "He looks so sad. Good thing Lavender wants to make the whole thing with Buckbeak and Malfoy the headline for the first edition of her paper."
Harry perked up. "Really?"
"Of course! You've missed the Prophet today; Minister Fudge has called for a commission of inquiry, but we all know what the result will be." Parvati snorted and sneered in Malfoy's direction. "The little twit's father will do his best to get poor Buckbeak executed, at least that's what the reporter wrote, and Lavender is determined not to let that happen."
"We could start a petition," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And we should find a legal way to sell our articles to other newspapers. Maybe to other European countries, if they'll have us?"
"Well, Lav didn't mention it because her mum still works for the Prophet, but there is one other newspaper in Britain," Parvati said delicately. She looked around as if to make sure that Lavender really couldn't listen in. "It's called The Quibbler, and Luna Lovegood's dad manages it."
"Well, good! We should talk to this Luna."
Parvati shook her head. "It's, er, not quite so easy. At least not for most people. You see, Luna's not exactly ... normal ... and her dad is even more excentric. It, er, could be difficult to work with him, because he prefers to publish riddles and nonsense articles."
"Does he have readers?" Hermione asked. "Because if he does, it's still worthwile to contact him."
"That reminds me, can we even sell our newspaper?" Harry asked. He threw another handful of lettuce at the worms and grimaced when both ends of the creatures slobbered all over their food. "I might have heard that Gringotts would be interested in subscribing."
"Lav's mum is on it, she'll find out for us. Legally it's tricky, as we're all minors. Lavender doesn't want the paper to become school property, though, in case teachers decide to place gag orders." Parvati pulled a face. "We should probably prepare for the worst case scenario and assume that we should finance it ourselves and find a private, silent sponsor for the legalities."
"Ah, I see. Good thinking. Say, have you decided on a name yet?"
Parvati grinned. "There'll be an announcement later in the week. Can you wait that long? I don't want to spoil the big moment for you."
"Sure." Harry grinned back. "I'm looking forward to it."
Before they went back up to the castle, all the Gryffindors and again Blaise Zabini from Slytherin remained behind to console Hagrid and greet the hippogriffs. The large man was visibly moved by their solidarity and invited them all over to tea sometime.
"Decent of you to stay, Zabini," Harry told the Slytherin boy on their way to their next class. "Thanks."
Zabini shrugged slightly. "Malfoy's an idiot, and I liked the first class. I just wish I'd gotten to fly, too."
"You can still do that. Hermione and I visited Hagrid yesterday. He'll be glad." Harry frowned at Zabini. "Just ... no tricks, alright? Hagrid doesn't need any more grief."
"You do not bite the hand that lets you fly a hippogriff," Zabini retorted with a faint smirk. "And honestly, everything is better than flobberworms."
"Also, Professor Kettleburn didn't lose so many limbs because he liked the tame beasties," Hermione said from behind them. "I distinctly remember Alicia Spinnet telling us in first year how her class had to deal with a runespoor, and she was a fourth year then, so Hagrid definitely isn't the first teacher to go a little over the top."
Zabini offered her a nod. "That's why I'm not with Malfoy and his cronies. I'm here to learn about magical creatures, not to sit around and feed flobberworms."
It soon became apparent that they were all heading to the same class, Ancient Runes. Harry was really looking forward to it, especially to the spell-crafting aspect of the class. It would be a few years yet before they would be allowed to dabble in actual crafting, but finding out how magic worked seemed like a fine thing in the meantime .
The Slytherins had taken up half the room already, and to the Gryffindors' surprise Malfoy seemed determined to teach Zabini a lesson.
"You can sit with the Gryffindorks, Zabini. You seem to like them well enough," Malfoy sneered. "Maybe St. Potter will let you sit with him." He smirked when his friends laughed hissingly.
Zabini shrugged. "Why not. How about it, Potter?"
"Er ..." Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, but when she nodded, he straightened himself and said, "Sure. This table?"
They got settled while the Slytherins stared balefully and then Professor Babbling entered the classroom.
"Welcome, students! And welcome, Mr. Potter. I'm glad the situation got sorted. You haven't missed much, and therefore we'll dive right in. Who can tell me something about this rune sequence? Yes, Miss Granger?"
Something like elation flooded Harry as he listened to Hermione explain the magical and literal meaning of the three runes the professor had written on her blackboard. Even though they were just beginning, he could already tell that this would be one of his favourite classes.
"Now, who wants to guess what spell this is?" Professor Babbling asked. "No one? Come on, just a guess!"
Harry raised his hand. "Uhm, since the runes are about power, yet lightness and lifting in a literal sense, and control in the meaning of steering ... maybe the hovering charm?"
"Very good, Mr. Potter, take five points." Babbling turned to her blackboard. "How about this one? Again, only three runes ... amaze me!"
oOo
"I honestly haven't ever seen you this animated in a class," Hermione gushed on the way to lunch. "Harry, you were really good! You guessed every charm right!"
"I read a bit ahead in my other books," Harry admitted.
"But you used logic, and I bet not every charm was an example in your books," Hermione replied. "Really, it was ..." She blushed a little before murmuring, "Very attractive."
Harry lost a step and had to scramble to remain upright. "Uh, thanks."
"You'll probably want to keep sitting with Zabini, and that's okay, but maybe we can do our homework together?" Hermione treaded her arm through Harry's. "I want to attempt the puzzle for extra points."
As Harry still took a potion every day, Hermione went on to save him a seat and left him in the bathroom next to the great hall to drink it in peace.
Right on cue, Dobby made an appearance. "Hello, Harry Potter sir! Here be your potion ... and a letter from Gringotts."
"Oh?" Harry quickly downed the potion - peach flavoured today - and accepted the heavy envelope. "Is it about your pension?"
Dobby bounced happily. "It is. Harry Potter sir's most efficient steward be done writing the business plan. He be wanting Harry Potter sir's approval."
"I'll look it over tonight," Harry promised and smiled. "You're all raring to go, aren't you?"
"Dobby be yearning for more work. Dobby be having much magic!"
Harry thought that the tennisball sized eyes indeed seemed to glow a little, and his elf friend looked almost rosy in his green cheeks. It was a very good look on him. "Then I'll be as quick as I can. Come see me tonight before bedtime."
"Dobby will!"
After hugging Harry's legs, Dobby popped away and Harry joined his friends at the Gryffindor table. Afterwards, Harry went to his first class without any of his friends. Being sorted so late into Arithmancy, Professor McGonagall had put him with the alternate class to avoid an overlap with his Care of Magical Creature elective.
Harry didn't mind the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the least, especially not when Susan Bones greeted him cheerfully and invited him to join her study group. Her friends, Hannah Abbott and Lisa Turpin, welcomed him as well. It almost was as if the fear and shunning of last year had been a bad dream and Harry didn't quite know what to think about that.
Brady's right, he thought as he settled down and readied his writing utensils, I need to remember last year. At least those three never called me foul names, that's something, I guess.
"Welcome to Arithmancy," Professor Vector said and eyed the two tables with four students each. "I'm pleased to see so many eager faces because Arithmancy plays an essential part in magical development. Who can tell me which branches of magic in our daily lives are especially reliant on the art?"
Harry raised his hand with all the other students, grinning when he got a chance to contribute. It marked the beginning of yet another fascinating elective, and he couldn't wait to compare notes with Hermione later.
Afterwards, Transfiguration seemed to almost pale in comparison, perhaps because Harry now knew that each spell could be taken apart and studied in depth with Arithmancy. It made his fingers itch a little, even though he'd always liked the hands-on aspect of Professor McGonagall's class.
When the last bell rang, the headmaster's voice boomed through the school and asked all of them to convene in the great hall.
"I wonder if it's about Professor Lupin's club," Hermione said quietly. She slid onto the bench at their house table and tucked her bag between her feet.
"Seems likely," Harry replied, sitting next to her and leaning a little against her. "He's standing up there."
"Yes, but lots of other teachers as well," Ron said from across them. "I hope it won't mean more homework."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at his audacity to come near them after their fight in the morning, but held her peace. Grateful, Harry touched her hand beneath the table and smiled slightly when she curled her little finger around his.
"Students, thank you for your attendance," Dumbledore called over the noise. "Please quiet down now for my announcement, it won't take long. Now, a few of you brought to our attention that they don't feel save with the dementors so close to Hogwarts. They asked whether they could be taught the Patronus Charm - that's the charm the aurors used on the train ride to chase the dementors off - and requested that anyone who might be interested be taught also. From this, the idea of the Patronus Club was born."
Whispers broke out, which could only be quelled by a long, pointed look down Dumbledore's nose. Achieving the desired silence, the headmaster then allowed Professor Lupin to continue.
"All seven years are invited to join the Patronus Club," Lupin said, easily managing to silence the last mutterings. "Depending on your numbers, the spell will be taught by several qualified professors in the hour before dinner on week days. The entry lists will be posted in your common rooms. You have until Friday night to sign up. Next week on Monday, the club will officially have its first meeting. You'll be notified in time when it is your turn. Thank you."
Applause surged up, quickly overtaking the whole hall and visibly humbling Lupin. The Weasley twins whistled loudly and only knocked it off when Professor McGonagall made her way over to them.
"I didn't think it'd happen so quickly," Hermione said, nearly gasping with excitement. "My parents will be so pleased."