Part 11
Harry felt a little guilty for sleeping in on Wednesday, but he had needed the rest. And apparently the adders had thought so too, because Harry's wand failed to chime at the set time. Instead, he was woken by tiny snake tongues tickling his chin and cheeks.
"Harry has a book message," the golden female hissed, crawling over Harry's chest and raising herself up so he could see her. "It is your father's book."
"Oh." Muzzily, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes. One of the adder brothers dragged his glasses over the covers. "Thank you, Blue."
"That's not my name," the snakeling said, amused. "Your book has been flashing for a while."
It was urgent, then. Sighing, Harry sat up and put the journal into his lap. Only then did he notice that Sweetie's egg was still stuck to his chest ... and her little head was fully out, curiously examining her surroundings.
"Sweetie," he hissed in awe and very carefully stroked her incredibly soft skin with a finger. "Hello!"
"Harry very warm. I am doing much growing in sleep," she told him. "Harry tell me how pretty I am."
Her brothers writhed in amusement over the open journal, while her sister slithered up and touched her nose to Sweetie's.
"You're very pretty," Harry murmured. "I like your stormy blue-grey skin and those pink highlights. Also, your eyes look pretty fierce, like glowing amber."
"Sister will be just as beautiful as us," the golden one said, flicking her forked tongue against Sweetie's cheek. "We are proud that sister is so strong."
The brothers hissed nonsense, although they clearly agreed.
Harry plucked the egg from his chest and turned it around so he could look the snakeling in the eyes. "I'm so glad you decided to fight. Your siblings were glowing in the fire ... I can't wait to see what you'll look like."
"We find out," she replied, stretching a tiny bit and flicking Harry's nose with her tongue. "But now you read your fathers words."
Harry put her down and took a minute to see the four snakelings' happy curling and writhing. He hadn't known that snakes could feel a family bond with their nest mates, but then again those were very magical snakes that could talk to humans, so maybe comparisons shouldn't be drawn.
Finally, he turned his attention to Sirius' entry.
September 15th, 1993
Pup,
Today is your last class with Snape. Rejoice! I found a tutor who is willing to brave Dumbledore's disapproval. She's a cousin of Stone's (of Lawrence, Stone & Finch), and that family has a zero bullshite policy. In fact, she's eager to let people know when, or rather that, they're arseholes. She'll start immediately, so please expect her to make a grand entrance tonight.
We're still working on finding a fantastic History teacher for you, but Brady's put out feelers as well and will help me get through the vetting process. Useful fellow, that one, and a great house guest. I might keep him a little longer than planned, if you don't mind and he doesn't object.
Have a really great day and please send me the memory of when Snape finds out!
All my love,
Sirius
Harry choked on his spit and began to cough. "What?" he croaked when he could breathe again.
What?, he wrote after finding his pen.
It's so true, Sirius answered immediately. It couldn't be more true, and I feel very accomplished right now. On that note, thanks for indulging Brady's request for a picture last night. Betty already developed it for us and I've put it in our new family photo album.
Harry smiled reluctantly. You're welcome. Although I hope that I don't actually look adorable. I'm too old for that.
I missed eleven years of your life, so bear with me when I occasionally tell you how adorable you look, Sirius replied, his writing bold and unashamed. And you most certainly do look adorable with that egg stuck to you. I might've even teared up a little.
Softie, Harry wrote back, feeling oddly content with Sirius' coddling and teasing. I don't think that Sweetie (that's egg-snake's name for now) will stay in her egg for much longer. She poked her head out just now and is watching everything. You'd probably like her a lot.
Funny that you should say that. I made Brady promise to introduce me to the little ones as soon as possible. But now I'll let you get on with your morning. Remember to rejoice in the fact that after today there'll be no more Snape for you, and most importantly, remember to have fun. Love you, kiddo.
The warm feeling in Harry's chest intensified. Love you, too, he answered and then closed the journal.
The rest of the boys were already gone when Harry made it through his admittedly rather short morning ablutions. The personal hygiene spells he'd learned over the summer were great in a pinch and had gotten so easy for him to perform that he barely even had to think about them. Once completely dressed, the three small adders slithered underneath his shirt and wound around his arms, while Sweetie went into Harry's book bag with an extra warming charm to keep her comfortable in the nippy morning air.
"Please stay super hidden this morning," he said to the snakes as he checked the locking charms on his trunk. "I've got one class with a really mean professor and I don't want him to harm you. He'd probably render you to pieces for his potions."
"We'll be very quiet," the golden female said. "If he is very mean to you, I'll bite him later."
"Us, too," the two brothers chimed in.
Chuckling, Harry patted his right biceps, where they'd decided to settle. "Thanks, you guys. I appreciate it."
Hermione was waiting for Harry in the common room, book in hand and Crookshanks on her lap.
"Good morning," she said and laughed when Harry and Crookshanks did a fist bump. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did, thanks, and you?" Harry scratched Crookshanks behind the ears while Hermione marked the page of her book and stuffed it into her bag.
"Oh, quite well, once I put up the silencing charm. I've got nothing against Lavender and Parvati's excitement, but they were keeping the rest of us up. Lily and Runcorn don't speak with anyone as it is; I'm sure they're about to leave Hogwarts altogether."
"Really?" Harry asked, shocked. "Why?"
"They haven't clicked with anyone but each other," Hermione said. "They're worse at making friends than I am, and Lily's mum is a tiger mum. She wants her daughter to be the best, and that's not happening here, is it?" She blushed a little. "And not just because of me. The education is simply lacking, compared to the other European schools."
"Wow, I didn't know that." Harry thought it over. "But, if they're happier elsewhere, it's probably a good idea."
Hermione nodded. "It's a pity, though. Lily is really good at Transfiguration and Runcorn loves Potions, but she hates Snape."
"Don't we all."
"Mmh. I saw a Beauxbatons pamphlet on Runcorn's night table the other day," Hermione said. "She's scribbled on it a lot, so I guess that things are pretty much decided. They'll probably not even finish the year."
That threw Harry for a loop, despite never having so much as exchanged a whole sentence with the two girls. From Runcorn he couldn't even remember the first name, just like she'd preferred it from day one. "I hope they'll tell McGonagall exactly why they're leaving, then."
"Lily's mum certainly will," Hermione said with wry grin.
Chatting pleasantly, they wandered to the great hall for breakfast, where their friends were already slurping tea and coffee and buttering rolls to go with their eggs and sausages.
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, having involuntarily scanned the whole table for the redhead, in case he needed to fend off caustic remarks.
"He wandered off a minute ago. Stuffed his face like usual, though," Lee Jordan called over four heads. "That way." He pointed to the door where Harry had come from and returned to his newspaper.
"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.
"I don't know. It's just strange," he replied. "He'd never cut breakfast short."
"If you want to go and look for him, you can," she said, guessing what was on his mind. "Go, I'll bring some toast if you miss breakfast."
"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry turned and left the hall again, walking along the corridor at a fast pace. The vague feeling of dread made his stomach clench and of course the snakes were picking up on that.
"Harry what's wrong," the golden female on his left arm demanded. "You taste bitter. We don't like it."
"I'm worried," he said. "About a friend."
"Is it the boy who's always touching your trunk?" Blue hissed. "He's not nice. Why are you worried? Also, he went left."
Harry made the turn upon reaching the intersection. "Thanks, buddy. Uhm, Ron, he's ..." He paused when a group of Ravenclaws appeared in his path. Only when they'd passed him and vanished around a corner did he dare to continue, "He's usually there for all of breakfast. He eats a lot. And he's been so mean these last weeks. Something's wrong. I think he's been cursed."
"He is not cursed," Blue said. His little head poked out of Harry's sleeve and his tongue flicked out. "Go right, now, and then up the stairs. His scent has gotten stronger."
It didn't take long for Harry to understand that Ron was going to Dumbledore's office. Thankfully, the boy's steps were slow, almost petulant, and Harry was able to catch up to him long before Ron reached the gargoyle.
Harry drew his wand.
"And now?" the golden female asked. She also peeked out of her sleeve and scented the air. "How do you want to spell him? I'm not sure that you can make him nice again."
"I'd never do that," Harry hissed, taking cover behind a suit of armour. "I just want to check ... denuda turpitudinem obscurum magicae!"
The spell hit Ron right in the back without him noticing, and Harry's breath caught in anticipation of a light show like the one he'd seen in Professor McGonagall's quarters.
When nothing happened after the glow of the spell had dissipated, Harry's mouth dropped open. "But ... that can't be!"
Ron vanished around the last corner. Harry let him go; he'd found out what he had wanted to know, even if he had a hard time processing it.
"I told you that he isn't cursed," Blue said smugly. "I can smell different magics. Can we go back to your female now? I like how she smells."
Shell-shocked, Harry let them cajole and guide them back to the great hall. He only had a few minutes left for breakfast, but his appetite had completely vanished in the face of this horrifying revelation, anyway.
"Hell, mate, what's wrong?" Seamus asked upon noticing Harry's expression and scooted up to Dean to make room for Harry to sit. "You look like you've seen the ghost of a banshee."
"Tea?" Lavender asked, already pouring him a cup.
"Harry?" Hermione laid a gentle hand on his cold, clammy ones and frowned with worry when he barely reacted. "You look really sick. Let's go see Madam Pomfrey."
"Maybe some tea will help. He's British, after all," Parvati said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Here, I put in two sugars. He can drink it on the way."
"Thanks." Hermione helped Harry up, pressed the cup into his hand and led him from the hall. As soon as they had some privacy, she asked quietly, "What happened with Ron? He's not dead, is he?"
That startled Harry enough to break him out of his stupor. "No, he's not dead." He took a drink of the hot tea. "He was on his way to Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?" Hermione's eyebrows went up. "What for? I know that he's not that good in class, but surely two weeks into term are too soon for a stern talk, even for Ron."
"Dunno." Harry wiped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his robe. "But I got to check whether he's cursed."
"Oh! Well, how bad is it? Is it more than one? They could conflict, which would explain his terrible behaviour."
"He's not cursed," Harry said evenly, far more evenly than he felt.
Hermione's mouth dropped open just like his had done. "What? Are you serious?"
Harry nodded.
"Are you telling me that this behaviour is Ronald's natural state of being?" Hermione's voice got a little shrill.
"I'm afraid so. He was completely clean. Like, there was nothingthere. Not even remnants of the spells the twins used on him in the last days." Harry emptied the tea cup and roughly raked a hand through his hair. "I think I'll be okay without Madam Pomfrey. I was just ... shocked."
"Yes, I can imagine. Bloody fecking hell!" She glared at Harry. "Can I stop trying to be nice to him now?"
Her outburst was so uncharacteristic for her that Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Crap, sorry. Yeah, I think so. I mean, apparently he's really not great, so why bother, right?"
And yet, on their way to Professor McGonagall's classroom, Harry felt the loss keenly. He'd gotten through some rather fantastical adventures with Ron; things he wouldn't burden Hermione with if he could in any way help it.
There'll be more stupid stuff to go through, I'm sure, and I'll find a way through them. I don't need a Ron to do that, he thought, a little resentfully. Especially when I got in trouble because of him in the first place!
As he thought it, he realized that it was true. Ron certainly had done his fair share of wanting to help find the Philosopher's Stone in first year, and it was his sister that had gotten possessed by Voldemort's shade.
And let's not forget the flight with his dad's Ford Anglia, Harry huffed to himself. I'd have waited for someone to get us, for Pete's sake, but Ron wanted to make a big deal out of it.
Maybe he wasn't going to miss that part of his friendship all that much, after all.
Hermione was quiet herself, just holding Harry's hand as they walked to the Transfiguration classroom.
They took their seats as the bell rang and did their best not to look at Ron's empty table too often.
Professor McGonagall, who of course noticed how out of sorts they both were, asked Harry to stay behind after class.
"You'll get him back in a few minutes," she said to Hermione and waved her on. "We won't take long." As soon as the door to her classroom was closed, she turned to Harry, face pinched. "Well? What's the matter now, Mr. Potter?"
Confronted with his head of house like that suddenly made Harry's dismay at this morning's discovery seem rather unimportant.
"Er, it's a bit stupid," he mumbled. "More like personal ... stuff."
"It was bad enough to rattle you and Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall returned, unimpressed. "Don't make me give you detention over Ron Weasley, it'll just irritate me."
Harry sighed. "I, er, followed Ron this morning and kind of used the revealing charm on him."
Professor McGonagall stood straight. "Well! About time someone did! That boy has been a menace so far. What colour does the curse have he's labouring under? I assume it's something particularly nasty if not even Lupin and Filius picked up on it."
"Ron's not cursed," Harry said dully. "At all."
Incredulous, Professor McGonagall said, "You're joking, Mr. Potter. The spell I taught you reveals all."
"I'm really not. The spell worked and there was nothing."
"I'll need to have a word with Dumbledore, then. That boy has disrupted the peace in Gryffindor too much to just let it go; his parents need to hear about it. Especially when ..." She stopped herself and cleared her throat. "Well, be that as it may, I'll let your inattention slide, this time, because you were worried about your classmate, but don't let it happen again."
"I won't," Harry promised, relieved. "Uhm, Professor, when will you meet your friend? Amy?"
"This weekend," she said, softening a little. "And now off with you, or Professor Snape will put our house points firmly in the negative."
Feeling a little better, Harry joined Hermione in the corridor and let her lead him to the dungeons. Ron was still missing, which set both of their teeth on edge.
"Merlin, Potter, relax, or you'll make your cauldron explode merely by looking at it," Zabini muttered under his breath as he passed Harry on his way to his table. "Weasley's absence can only be good."
Ron's work partner certainly thought so, even if Snape took points off Neville for working alone on a two-person potion. It was so blatantly unfair that the Gryffindors didn't even bother getting upset about it. Hermione merely made a note on her pad - and again when Snape ripped the piece of paper off and docked five points.
"I can do this all day, Miss Granger," Snape said sardonically, ripping the piece of paper with the note off again.
"So can I," Hermione replied calmly. "I'll report every instance of destruction of my personal property, Professor Snape."
"Why, you little know-it-"
"Sir, can we get on with the lesson, please?" Zabini asked, interrupting Snape's beginning rant. "As amusing as your unfair treatment of Gryffindors is, I'm here to study."
Snape turned and glared at Zabini. "Is that so, Mr. Zabini?"
"Why else would my mother pay 5000 galleons a year?" The boy sneered. "Of course, I can tell her that Hogwarts doesn't fulfill her high expectations. Beauxbatons accepts new students all year, or so I've heard."
"Five thousand?" Hermione asked, voice sharp like it only got when she was truly worked up. "Why, my parents pay 6000 galleons a year!"
"My mum, too," Dean muttered, shocked.
"Is this really a surprise to you?" Malfoy asked derisively. "The effort it takes to get you mudbloods up to speed, and you're still an embarrassment to proper witches and wizards."
"I don't know any mundane-born students who have gotten extra education; I certainly didn't have any extra classes," Hermione said coldly. She packed her things with the precision of the truly mad. "Excuse me, Professor Snape, but I have to leave. Else I'll just disrupt your lesson further."
"If you leave now, Granger, you needn't bother coming back," Snape said, dark eyes aglow with perverse pleasure.
Hermione stared at him for a moment and then snorted. "Fine."
"You can strike me from your attendance list as well, sir," Blaise said, making the smug expression slide right off Snape's haughty face. "You coming, Potter?"
Harry smirked. "Damn right I am." He packed up the rest of the things on his and Hermione's table in the stunned silence. "See you guys at lunch."
"Potter!" Snape bellowed. "Get back to work or I'll have you expelled for being an insufferable rabble-rouser!"
"Oh, please, do your worst, sir," Harry tossed over his shoulder. He held the door for Hermione and Zabini and relished in closing it a little more snappily than necessary. "Wow, I'm feeling great. Also, what's this about the tuition?"
"It's a rather well-kept secret that muggleborns are charged twenty percent more for their attendance at Hogwarts," Zabini said. He shouldered his bag and trotted off in the direction of the library, Harry and Hermione readily coming along. "Honestly, it's an outrage, especially since the extra money is supposedly used for special classes to integrate the students into our society. Which, obviously, isn't happening. If it did, not even half of Slytherin would have such a problem with muggleborns."
"It's fraud, plain and simple," Hermione said, "and you can bet that my parents will hear of this."
Harry laughed. "Wow, you sounded just like Malfoy, 'Mione."
"I know. It's terrible." She scowled. "I'll also have to write my account manager at Gringotts to reduce the tuition. And to demand the money back for the last two years, because I won't let that absolute horse shite tower stand."
Harry couldn't help but grin. "I'd love to see Dumbledore's face when he gets the notice. He should get mine right about now, too."
"I just feel sorry for Professor McGonagall." Hermione sighed. "She's the deputy, if she knew about it, she's just as guilty."
"I don't think she is," Zabini said thoughtfully. "My mother has her contacts in the Ministry, and Fudge is only ever meeting alone with Dumbledore when it's about money. Could well be that the headmaster kept that duty for himself, as he's entitled to."
"But what about the board of govenors?" Hermione asked. They reached the library and she lowered her voice so Madam Pince wouldn't send them away at the door. "Why aren't they pushing for equality?"
"Have you met those gits?" Zabini asked with a raised eyebrow. "Malfoy's father was one of them until last year and even if he bribed a lot of them to get Hagrid out of the castle, they weren't all against him. Far from it. Most were just clever enough to keep their own hands clean." He stopped at a secluded table and dropped his bag onto a chair. "I don't know Longbottom's grandmother, but she might well be the only honourable member of that club. If she knows about that practice, she was powerless to oppose it ... if she even wanted to. One never knows with the old pureblood types."
"I'm regularly getting headaches at Hogwarts," Hermione said sulkily. "Honestly, the amount of stupid is staggering." She pulled her writing pad from her bag and put the tip of her pencil to the paper. "I'll write my letter now. Can I borrow Hedwig later, Harry?"
"Sure, she'll take my letter, too," Harry said as he sat down. "Gringotts will enjoy getting up in Dumbledore's business. Again."
"Excuse me if it sounds crass, but how was it, Granger?" Zabini asked, taking out his own sheet of parchment and writing utensils. "Finding out that you're related to a pureblood family?"
"Fascinating, of course, even if it did nothing to alter the circumstances of my birth," Hermione replied, arching her eyebrow mockingly. "Still, there's so much to learn, and so much history to discover. Although having inherited a small fortune will probably become a pain in my bum once I turn fifteen."
"Marriage contracts," Zabini said and nodded. "One of magical Britain's oldest traditions. I wouldn't be too concerned about suitors from Britain; the truly influential people here are too stuck up to overlook your squib relatives. Other countries, however ..." He shrugged.
Harry didn't like the sound of that, and the way the snakes squeezed his arms, they didn't much care for such talk either.
"Well, I hope people will have fun setting up their little marriage contracts because I've instructed Gringotts to reject them with prejudice."
Zabini smiled appreciatively. "Right, you have no living magical relatives. Then it's only proper for Gringotts to handle your business. Your parents agree with your stance on this issue, I assume?"
"My parents wanted the goblins to send back curses instead of mere, if vitriolic, letters," Hermione said dryly. "I might still take them up on it if the number of so-called suitors turns out to be excessive."
Harry chuckled. "How many would that be? A dozen or two?"
"I say she can net at least a hundred," Zabini said after a long, considering look at Hermione.
"Five would be enough to annoy me," Hermione informed them both tartly. "But I don't think people will be dumb enough to send marriage contracts sight unseen."
"Granger, there's a lot you still have to learn about our society." Zabini put his quill aside and leaned back in his chair. "First of all, how easy is it to get someone's photograph? There are buyers for this exact kind of thing. And you're not exactly Millicent Bulstrode. People will go for it."
Hermione groaned. "Fantastic. How can this be legal? I'm a minor!"
"And Britains paparazzi laws are shite whether you're muggle or magical," Zabini said. He tilted his head. "Of course you won't be the only one dealing with this once the time comes. You've just not been raised to expect it."
"And I thank my parents every day for that," Hermione said, flustered. "It's barbaric to sell kids to the highest bidder. Sight unseen, no less. Good lord, I'm not going to get over that."
"I'm not looking forward to it either," Blaise admitted, "but that's how it works in the upper echelons of our society."
Remembering Sirius' warning about the laws in Britain, Harry asked, "What about marriage law, then?"
"What about it?" Zabini asked, taking his eyes from Hermione to Harry and measuring him in that mildly interested way he had.
"Well, you get married, and then - what? In the mundane world, there are laws to regulate married life and protect people. Like, from abuse and theft and stuff."
"Oh, that. Well, I could send you on a merry chase through the law books, but why bother. There aren't all that many laws since everything is usually covered in the marriage contracts."
"What, you mean like divorce and the splitting of assets?" Hermione frowned. "That's terribly inefficient, and horrible for the people getting married off by their families. Do they even have a say about what's in the contracts?"
"Usually they don't, no," Zabini said with a little shrug. "It's assumed that the head of the family knows best. Of course only very few families would actually disregard the child's wishes completely, and usually there are a lot of clauses and stipulations to protect either the child, the child's dowry or fortune, or both. Oh, and most families require children as soon as possible ... talk about being a stud or broodmare for mostly inbred gits."
"It's a mess, basically," Hermione concluded. "One more reason not to want anything to do with it." She offered Zabini a small smile. "Thanks for explaining."
"Believe me, I haven't even scratched the surface, and for muggleborns and halfbloods the situation is even worse," Zabini answered and rolled his eyes. "As soon as I've graduated, I'll absent myself from this country. Maybe you should do the same; your prospects will be much better literally anywhere else, Granger. Maybe even do it right and get citizenship in another country and lose the British one if things get ugly."
"You mean with Voldemort?" Hermione questioned.
"Him and his followers," Zabini confirmed. "People are still out there doing the work, you know. Passing anti-muggle legislation, quietly letting people vanish, that kind of thing. Someone like you ... well, they'd do their best to either marry you off to someone who can control you, or worse, get rid of you completely. I don't want to scare you, but you'd better take precautions. Being a muggleborn in Britain isn't easy."
"I ... I see."
While the message was awful, Harry couldn't help but feel anxious about Zabini's easy way with words. He was being helpful and even sort of nice to Hermione, and she of course had no reason not to react positively to it, especially as the words rang true. Again, the little monster in Harry's stomach reared its head and twisted around until he felt faintly nauseated.
"Thanks for the warning," Harry murmured, gripping Hermione's hand and wishing that he could do something to make her feel better. Seeing her so pale and shocked was horrifying.
"Just doing my part," Zabini said quietly, but with intent. "As I said, I've got plans, and pandering to someone else's ego is not a part of them." He suddenly smirked. "Of course, I can recommend Italy for relocation. The weather and the food are great and the government shares the top spot of having the most progressive civil rights with Sweden and Finland. In the world, naturally, not just in Europe."
Hermione rallied and narrowed her eyes. "That sounds like a sales pitch."
"Because it is one." Zabini quirked an eyebrow. "Do you really think that I have the time to play the long game with a pair of Gryffindors? I plan on passing every OWL, so you'll have to do with blunt words. Sorry to disappoint."
"I'm not disappointed," Harry said quickly. "I've got a ton of stuff to learn, so being blunt is not a bother. I guess we'll consider it."
"Please do; my mother's newest beau is a high-ranking Italian official and would secure me a placement at the Italian Institute Of Applied Magics in thanks." Zabini's smirk broadened when he caught Hermione's scandalized expression. "I'm also a very good student, Granger, as you well know. I'll earn my place regardless, but it'd be good to have a sure thing - and the best quarters on campus - if other options fall through."
Hermione sighed, playing dejectedly with her pencil. "I guess that's true."
"Let's write our letters," Harry said, feeling painfully awkward and obvious in his attempt to draw Hermione's attention from Zabini. "It'll be fine, 'Mione."
"I hope so," she murmured, a faraway look in her eyes.
Harry sighed and glanced at Zabini, who was looking back placidly like he hadn't just delivered a devastating blow to Hermione.
oOo
Despite her depressed mood, Hermione decided to attend History after lunch and so Harry went to the Come And Go Room and spent the first fifteen minutes telling Sirius first what had happened with Ron and Snape, and then what Zabini had told them in the library.
Sirius' answer was a surprise.
The goblins and I are already working on it, pup. British laws really are 90% atrocity and 10% bearable guidelines for everyday life. Gringotts also recommended Italy, what with the ICW having a permanent seat there. It'd look good if I applied for citizenship after my trial. I could apply on your behalf as well, if you want.
I think I do, Harry replied. What Zabini said was horrible. Can you convince Sharptooth to contact the Grangers? Hermione will probably write them soon, but hearing it from Gringotts might be better.
I will, but I need you to slow down a little, Sirius wrote. She has a year before the nonsense with the marriage contracts starts. There will be contracts, I won't lie, but she's under no obligation to even entertain them. Hiring the goblins as her legal representative was smart, since her inheritance has such stringent rules attached to it. Their rejection letters will quickly become public knowledge ... and doubtlessly entertain the whole of Europe for a good while.
Harry huffed. I don't like thinking about boys sending Hermione marriage contracts. I don't even like how friendly Zabini is being. I bet he's noticed how great she is.
Not to forget pretty. Sharptooth let me see his memories of her. She's got cute teeth. A smiley followed Sirius' word. That being said, I'll let you talk it out with Brady. I never was civilized in matters of the heart, and I don't want you in Azkaban just because I'm teaching you caveman behaviour.
Harry couldn't imagine Sirius behaving like a caveman over a girl, but then again he still didn't know very much about him.
Did you have a girlfriend before ... you know. Voldemort, he asked.
Girlfriends, boyfriends, and even someone in between once, during my time in the auror corps. I'd just gotten my badge and had a job in Dublin. Great place for letting loose, by the way. The person never said it outright, but I thought that they'd lost a bet with a leprechaun which resulted in their perfectly in-between state. Stupid thing to bet with those little buggers - they'll cheat you out of your gold every time, and make you pay for it on top of it. Anyway, a good time was had by all, and to avoid a bollocking by your mind healer, I won't say more than that. He's already giving me the stink eye.
Harry grinned. Thank you. Although, boys? Ick.
Don't knock it until you try it, was his godfather's sage advice. Suddenly a large blot of ink appeared on the page. Once you're fifteen or older, of course! Merlin's beard, your Aussie doctor has fantastic aim even without magic ... lobbed an apple at my head from ten yards away, the prude.
That did it, Harry burst into laughter, and the anxiety of the morning largely bled away.
You're laughing your bum off, aren't you?, Sirius asked after a moment, a little zing of magic bringing across his suspicion perfectly.
I'm sorry, yes. Harry wiped a few tears away. The bell rang and he sobered. Class is over already. I gotta go. Thanks for cheering me up.
Always. Now, remember to have a good look at Snape when your Potions tutor arrives. And don't feel bad about keeping an eye on Ron from now on. Some friendships just aren't meant to last. It's a hard lesson, but an important one. I just wish Peter had shown his true colours sooner ...
Just like that, the joviality drifted away and bleakness crept up to Harry like a chilling mist. Surprised and a little horrifyed, Harry understood that the words on the page were bleeding Sirius' magic, and that the man was devastated.
"Sirius," he whispered. Quickly, hoping that the protections around Sirius' journal would allow Brady to see his words, he wrote, Brady, Sirius is not well. Please take care of him.
The answer came so quickly that Harry sagged a little in relief. Yes, of course. We've been waiting for something like this. Don't worry, Harry. Sirius'll recover. I'll close the journal now, to protect his privacy. He'll write when he can.
Thank you.
"What is wrong with your father?" Blue asked, pushing his small head out of Harry's collar.
"He tasted very sad and cold," his brother said. "Like he wants to lay down and die."
"Easy prey," the golden one added.
"He lost very good friends due to a betrayal," Harry said, gently petting Blue's sleek skin. "Something I told him reminded him of it."
"Memories," Blue hissed and tilted his head slightly, tickling Harry's neck in the process. "You have very warm memories."
Harry sighed. "Yes, although they make me sad, too."
"Harry send warm memories," the golden female ordered. "We are cold, too."
"How do I do that?"
"You know how," Blue said, flicking his tongue against Harry's jaw.
Immediately the picture of a brightly shining stag flashed in front of Harry's eyes.
"Holy-" He jumped up from his chair. "Was that you, Blue?"
"Words are still hard sometimes," the snakeling replied, coiling in agitation. "Pictures are easier."
"But ... you were under my shirt at the time." Harry carefully plucked Blue from his shoulder and held him before him. The orange eyes never blinked, of course, which gave the snakeling a look of infinite patience. "How could you see?"
"I see and feel magic," the snake reminded him. "Your garments are no barrier for this. I saw your Soul Friend very clearly."
"I cannot see magic like my brother does," Blue's twin hissed, "but I felt its warmth. Very good warmth, Harry. Send it to your father."
"Hold on, I'll try with the family wand ..." Harry drew the wand from his left arm holster. After collecting himself for a moment and drawing up the memory of his visit to the Potter family vault hard and fast, he cried, "Expecto Patronum!"
Just like before, the stag erupted from his wand in a burst of brilliant, silvery white light. He galloped a few yards, turned and came back to Harry, nose lowered to nudge the boy's wand hand.
"Hey, you," Harry said, a little breathlessly. The nose was actually warm and the slightest bit wet, which was disconcerting and exciting all at once. "Uhm, the snakelings tell me that you could help soothe my godfather, Sirius. He's got moments when he's really unhappy, so ... could you go and give him a hug? Whenever he needs one would be great, but one just now would be enough, really."
The stag blinked slowly, accepted a rub to his forehead and then with a graceful twirl he vanished in a stream of light.
"Do you think it'll work?" Harry wondered.
"It already does." Blue curled around Harry's fingers, his markings glowing brightly. "So warm. I am happy Harry."
His three siblings agreed, their hisses blissful. Especially Sweetie, who was still safe in Harry's bag, gave off a whole aura of excited, yet mellow contentedness.
"I really have to go to Arithmancy now," Harry said. "And tonight I'll have to go out again for Astronomy. Maybe you'd like to go and visit Brady instead?"
"Yes, we go and see the Favourite," the golden female said.
"Betty," Harry called and laughed when she hugged his leg. "It's good to see you, too. Could you do me two favours?"
"Of course, Harry Potter sir!"
"First, I need you to pop me close to the Arithmancy classroom. And tonight, after dinner, the snakelings want to visit Brady. Would you take them, please?"
Betty nodded so hard that her ears flapped a little. "Betty will, Harry Potter sir." With a snap of her fingers she packed up all of Harry's things. A second snap saw Blue back under his shirt sleeve and coiled around his right biceps. "Harry Potter sir please show Betty where classroom is. Betty be doing the popping."
In a matter of seconds, Harry found himself right around the corner of the classroom and quickly went to find his study partners from Hufflepuff before someone became worried.
"There you are," Susan Bones greeted cheerfully. "Did you have a lot of trouble with the homework?"
"Er, no." Harry felt his face heat up. "So far, the math isn't very difficult. You?"
"Just a bit, but our friends in Ravenclaw helped us."
"You should come to our study group," Hannah Abbott piped up. "We meet every Friday before dinner for an hour to talk about problems we're having. It's not really for homework, because the Ravens would kill us if we tried to sponge off of them, but it's still super helpful."
"Sounds good," Harry said. "Let me check my planner ... yes, Friday should be fine, unless Wood calls for extra Quidditch drills or something. Could I bring Hermione? She might be interested."
"Sure," Hannah said, bouncing a little as if she couldn't quite believe her luck.
They entered the classroom and sat down at their tables. The snakes under Harry's shirt squirmed a bit to get comfortable before settling down with satisfied little hisses.
"Hello class," Professor Vector said, upbeat as usual and brimming with excitement. "Since you've all done so well the last time, I thought it would be fun to give you a little challenge." She set a miniature trunk of about a foot in length and half a foot in width and height onto her table. "This toy trunk has been warded and I want you to figure out the layout and the function of the wards. You may use your book and write down your thought process as necessary. Amaze me!"
She stepped aside to allow the class to get a good look at the trunk. All groups searched the trunk for the runes, although Harry was the only one to draw a schematic with their exact placements.
Back at their table, he and the group and Hufflepuffs bent over the drawings.
"I can't believe I didn't do this," Susan huffed and poked a rune cluster on the front side of the trunk. "Auntie has told me so often how important spacing is."
Harry shrugged. "I need to be able to look at something for it to make sense. So, this rune is for strength, obviously, but here it's at the top while it's second to last here."
"Not to mention they're spaced both horizontally and vertically." Hannah rubbed her cheeks in budding frustration. "Has anyone learned what that means already?"
"Harry?" Justin asked when Harry hesitated. "You can say it. Heck, I think we all have read a bit further than the first five chapters or so."
"It's been three and a half books," Harry confessed. "I had a lot of time this summer, and it's cool stuff."
"Yeah. Yeah, it really is," Susan agreed. "Come on, tell us."
"Well, I learned a bit about how properties are warded. But this trunk doesn't have any wardstones," Harry said. "I could be totally wrong, but I think the builder of the trunk used the runes to form the ward matrix. See? You can draw horizontal lines from the vertically placed runes, and vertical lines from the horizontally placed runes." He charmed his pencil to draw red lines and demonstrated. "The lines cross and you get squares. A matrix of sorts."
Stunned, the three Hufflepuffs stared at him. Then, they tugged out coloured pencils from their bags and did the same to the other runes, until the drawing was a mess of lines. Put together, the effect was spectacular in its simplicity. After that, it was quite easy to figure out which ward net had which function; strength to keep the trunk closed once the lock was engaged, secrecy to evade malicious intent, and space, to allow for larger storage capacity.
As they were sitting back and feeling a bit proud for figuring it out, Professor Vector came up to their table.
"Oh my, you lot are especially bright! Let me see ..." She took the drawings and looked them over with raised eyebrows. "Yes, just so ... I'm impressed! Twenty points to each of you. Well done!"
Susan and Hannah blushed with pleasure, while Justin shook Harry's hand.
"May I keep this to show the others your process?" Professor Vector asked. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Listen up, students! Our time is almost up, and I'd like to show you what this group has discovered ..."
She walked the others through the process, engaging in a good-natured debate with the table of Ravenclaws who had almost discovered the runes standing in for ward stones but had been distracted by the meaning of the runes halfway through. Eventually, every student had at least earned five points for their work, and instead of hard feelings they all got out of class with a sense of discovery and exploration.
"It's like I could build something really simple right now," Hannah said as she stuffed her pencils into her bag. "I think I'll try to recreate the trunk during the weekend. My mum sent me cookies, the box will do well, I think."
"Can we have a copy of your notes, Potter?" Justin asked. "I'm not half as good at drawing, see, and you were right. It helps if we can see it."
"Yeah, sure." Harry tapped the stack of notes with his wand and muttered the spell he'd been scrambling to learn in anticipation of copying Slytherin's library. "I'm looking forward to Friday."
"So do we," Hannah said with a smile. "See you tonight for Astronomy, Harry!"
Harry waved the Hufflepuffs goodbye and accepted the congratulations of the group of Ravenclaws before they hurried off to their common room, no doubt to go over the problem again.
In the two hours before dinner, Harry excused himself from Hermione and went down to the Chamber of Secrets alone. It really was a rather peaceful place now ... and Dobby was bringing presents.
"The potions kits!" Harry said, grinning broadly. "That was quick!"
"Harry Potter sir's dogfather be ordering good work tables and Healer Spleenbash be adding books," Dobby explained. "Where be Dobby putting everything?"
"Away from the water, over there, close to the wall." Harry pointed to a secluded spot where the cool air wasn't as dank and not drafty at all. "We'll need some good lamps above the tables. Eternal flames are nice, but they're flickering too much for a potions lab."
"Dobby be looking into it," the elf promised.
With quick snaps of his fingers Dobby set up the work benches a good bit apart from each other to avoid contamination, placed the cauldrons and utensils exactly where they were supposed to go and stored the ingredients Harry had bought from Neville and Gringotts neatly in the new cabinet. The emtpy vials and other surplus items went into another cabinet, and a third cabinet cabinet remained empty, awaiting the potions Harry and Hermione would brew in the future.
"Do you think this'll make a good birthday surprise?" Harry asked once Dobby was finished.
"Dobby be thinking so," Dobby said. "But Dobby be knowing that females be liking nice things, too. Like flowers or extra juicy berries."
"I have something nice as well," Harry assured him. "I just hope she'll like it."
"Miss Mione be sensible female. She be knowing that gift be from the heart." Dobby's ears twitched. "Dobby be needing to go now. Will Harry Potter sir be going back up?"
"No, I'll stay a little while longer. I thought I'd show the snakelings where they were born, more or less. Thanks, Dobby."
"Harry Potter sir be welcome."
A little wistfully Harry watched him pop away.
"We were born here?" Sweetie asked and poked her head out of Harry's book bag.