Part 12
Harry had just enough time to place his journals and writing utensils onto the desk when a small, middle-aged looking house elf in a white towel toga appeared in front of him.
"Hello, Harry Potter," it squeaked.
"Er, hello." Harry stared into the elf's hazel eyes. It looked distinctly female with astoundingly long and dark lashes that he hadn't seen on any other elf, not Tilly and not even Betty, who was very cute even to his human eyes. "Uhm, are you Romy, the head elf?"
"I be Romy," she confirmed, swaying even closer until her nose almost touched Harry's. "Jules be telling me you be head of Slytherin family."
"By conquest," Harry provided, when she paused expectantly. "Er, the snake guardian to Slytherin's library down in the Chamber of Secrets verified already, if that helps."
Romy tilted her head. Then she stepped back and held out her hand. "Please let Romy feel your magic, child. If you be Slytherin, Romy be able to feel connection to Hoggywarty."
Harry carefully put three of his fingers into the elf's small hand and tried not to squirm when her magic swept over and through him like a x-ray searchlight. "Wow, that's intense."
"Romy be able to see shenanigans," she informed him. Only a moment later, her magic receeded and she bounced once. "You indeed be Master Slytherin. What a happy day! And Master Slytherin be taking poor Jules as his elf!"
"I hope that was okay," Harry said, a little flustered. "It seemed important to him."
"Jules be young, only fifty-six," Romy said, blinking slowly. "Romy hopes he not be tricking Master Slytherin into accepting bond."
Harry startled and then laughed a little. "I only got tricked the first time, by Dobby, and maybe a little with Betty. I've since read your book, you know."
Romy tutted. "And yet Master Slytherin not be doing it right. Bond to Jules be lax. It be concerning."
"We're friends," Harry explained. "I don't need or want servants. I like my house elves just as they are, and I want them to be happy. Whatever they like to do for me is a gift."
Again, Romy came close, and this time her nose did touch Harry's. "It be very unusual. Your elves be keeping secrets?"
"They promised they would," Harry assured her. "And they also promised not to serve the Dark One - Tom Riddle, he's Voldemort. Jules told me to give that order because he doesn't like Voldemort."
Romy's ears twitched in alarm. "Jules be very smart. Master Slytherin be needing to give that order to Hoggywarty elves, also. Master Slytherin's connection to Hoggywarty be enough for the Dark One to exercise familial rights."
"Of course, I'll do that," Harry said, wondering if Dumbledore had given that order before Harry had emerged as a founder's heir. "Can we do it right now?"
Romy nodded decisively. After a snap of her thin fingers, close to a hundred house elves appeared in the suddenly expanded Come And Go Room and stared at her expectantly. Jules was right at the front and looking a little smug.
"This be new and rightful Master Slytherin," Romy said. "He be head of family by conquest."
Quiet mutters sounded, and looks were exchanged among the elves.
Romy nodded. "Master Slytherin be having orders for us now."
Harry flushed a little under the intense scrutiny of the house elves. "Er, thank you, Romy. First of all, thank you all for coming to see me. I'm sure you've got lots of stuff to do, so I appreciate it." He swallowed nervously. "Uhm, so, I really only have one pressing thing to discuss, and that's the other member of the Slytherin family. His name is Tom Riddle, some of you probably know him from his time at Hogwarts."
"He be the Dark One," Romy said dramatically, and the other elves twitched and looked around guiltily.
Harry's heart fell a little at that, as it told him enough about Voldemort's use of the poor things' magical connection to him. "Yes, and since Romy told me that Voldemort could call for you and give you orders because of me being the Heir of Slytherin, I hereby ask you to neither answer his calls, nor help him in any way, shape or form. He's evil and doesn't deserve your attention and care."
A hundred pairs of ears were quivering, and just as many pairs of large, luminous eyes were staring at him. "Your will be done, Master Slytherin," the whole group finally squeaked.
Something shifted in Harry in that moment. It wasn't quite the same as accepting the friendship of an elf, but it felt close enough.
"It be allegiance," Romy squeaked and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Hoggywarty heirs come first, always."
"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. "I appreciate it."
"It only be your due, Master Slytherin. Be there anything else?"
Harry blushed again and ducked his head. "As a matter of fact ... er, would it be possible to call me like you would any other student? I don't want anybody to know that I'm the heir of Slytherin. People would only harass me for it."
Romy wrung her hands as she said, "It be disrespectful, Master Slytherin. We elves not be liking not calling things by their name."
"I understand," Harry said, "but please. You have no idea what trouble I'd be in if Dumbledore noticed. You don't have to tell him if he asks, do you?"
"No, no," Romy squeaked. Her light eyes filled with tears. "But we not be wanting to disrespect Master Slytherin to his face. That not be how we be raised." Several of her friends looked also distraught at the mere idea of being so informal.
"Then don't use my name to my face," Harry insisted. "To me, that's not important anyway. That you'll keep my secrets, and allow Dobby and Betty into Hogwarts, that counts. You have no idea how much."
"I will teach you," Jules squeaked into the stricken silence. "It is not very hard to call Master Slytherin 'Harry Potter sir'."
"I'd really prefer it," Harry said. "You'd help me a lot that way."
The elves all sniffled, and, to Harry's relief, one after the other swore that they'd keep this particular secret whenever someone else was around.
"Don't forget the portraits," Harry said with a wry smile. "They're incredibly nosy."
"They be busybodies," Romy muttered. "They be reporting to the headmaster." She eyed Harry shrewdly. "It could be fun to keep secrets from old whiskers wizard."
In a strange little parade, the house elves then lined up to touch Harry for a moment before popping away.
"You be good elf for Master Slytherin," Romy said and wagged her little finger in front of Jules' face. "You not be shaming your poor mother."
"I'll be very good," Jules said with a hint of exasperation and something close to an eyeroll.
Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. "You're family?"
"He be Romy's youngest son," Romy said. "He not be very strong, but he be popping smart. Romy be glad that Jules found a good friend."
"I told you that Harry Potter sir is a good wizard," Jules squeaked. He turned to Harry. "May I return to Potter Cottage, please? Steward Sharptooth sent another crate of books."
"Oh? What are they about?" Harry asked curiously.
"Mostly offensive magic to make enemies really, really unhappy should they even think about attacking Harry Potter sir," Jules replied dutifully, although his eyes gleamed meanly. "Jules will display them prominently for easy access."
After he'd popped away, Romy put her hands on her hips. "Romy not be apologizing for Jules' meany streak. His father be security elf for gnomes in Switherland."
"I appreciate that he's invested in my survival," Harry told her honestly. "It's nice."
Romy snapped her fingers and a tea tray appeared on the desk. "Master Slytherin's survival be important to Hoggywarty elves too. Master Slytherin only need to call if elves can help."
"Thank you, Romy, I will."
Pleased, the little elf grinned and popped away.
Since a good quarter of an hour had already passed, Harry hurried to open Sirius' journal. The entry was long and even a bit rambling, but no less impactful for that.
September 17th, 1993
Harry,
I just wanted to let you know that Sharptooth has sent a large crate of DADA books to the cottage. Your little bookworm elf was salivating over them, enough to make Ninja curious. They were putting their heads together last I checked. I almost pity the fool who tries to break into your properties. Maybe he'll have a few ideas for my residence in Rome, if you don't mind me borrowing him for a bit. Ninja is good for smiting, but he's a bit impatient and doesn't want to wait for traps to spring, although he certainly likes placing them well enough. He has the most hilarious cackle!
Anyway, the preparations for my move to Italy are very nearly complete. I'll be crossing borders on the 21th, the autumn equinox, because Magic will be very balanced between our races on that day and ease my entrance to the goblin realm. Lawrence has already set up his office in Rome and all the writs and petitions he needs to file are ready. It seems so sudden, but I'm glad that things are beginning to happen now. I could never sit still for long anyway, even if I'll be in protective custody at the Gringotts branch in Italy until the ICW has acknowledged my status as unlawfully imprisoned petitioner. The food alone will be worth it!
On a related note, I herewith report that I've found yet another of Riddle's disgusting shades. It was hidden in my cousin Bellatrix' Gringotts vault, which really wasn't a surprise in hindsight. She worships that Dark Bastard to an unhealthy degree and is still serving time in Azkaban for it. In fact, it was her and her husband who tortured your friend Neville's parents to insanity. (That reminds me that my family owes the Longbottoms a huge debt - I'll work on it, I promise, and make sure that Neville and his parents get all the help I can provide.) Gringotts will destroy it as soon as the ritual can be done, which will be sometime in October.
Now, before you begin to worry, no, not just any lord of a family can snoop through the vaults of its married members, that would be awful, but in this case my grandfather could. Bellatrix' marriage contract actually stipulated that the Lord Black is to be granted full access to her vaults, ostensibly to be able to care for her welfare, since she's always been a bit crazy and couldn't be trusted to take care of herself. The real reason was, of course, to make sure that the Lestranges wouldn't burn the money on useless muggle baiting, which would've weakened the Black's standing in society considerably.
My first impulse was to cast Bellatrix out of the family for harbouring a part of the Dark Fucker, same as her sister Narcissa, who married Lucius Malfoy. But after sleeping on it and talking it over with Chief Ragnok, our lawyers, and our account managers I've decided to leave things as they are for the moment. Having Bellatrix and Narcissa in the family, no matter how much it galls me, gives me power over them, and will give their husbands pause. You see, the old Lord Black was kind enough to put stringent stipulations on both their dowries, and dear Lucius would so hate to lose that money because he made me angry.
But enough of my family's less than glorious dealings. I'm sure you're eager to know how your four little friends are doing. The three hatched snakelings were crawling all over the house yesterday, and they all spent last night down at the ward stone. The golden girl also chased a garden gnome over the terrace this morning, which was hilarious, but her siblings prefer to observe your elves and yours truly and to ask pointed questions. In fact, I have Sweetie stuck to my chest right now, and she's watching what I write to you. Brady is sort of smitten with Goldie and I swear he nearly cried when she asked him to feed her. The others aren't very hungry yet; apparently you stuffed them to their venomous little fangs before they came here.
How are things going at Hogwarts? What's the situation with the Weasley boy? Are there new developments? Brady couldn't tell me much, unfortunately, due to his privacy vows.
Take care, I love you.
-Sirius
Harry needed a second read-through to fully grasp what his godfather was telling him. Another part of Voldemort found, the second one also hidden by Sirius' own family! It was impossible to imagine how Sirius was dealing with all of this, and so Harry was doubly glad for Healer Williams' presence in the cottage, and the goblins' willingness to banish those abominations as quickly as they could.
That's four of them already, Harry thought with a shiver and a reflexive gulp against the bile rising up his throat. Could there be even more? If not, there's still that Voldemort ghost thing from first year, and no one knows where it went, or how to defeat it.
To distract himself from these depressing thoughts, Harry put his pen to paper and wrote:
Sirius,
Wow, that's a long letter. Thanks for letting me know what's going on with Voldemort - and your family, I guess. Have you told Ninja not to listen to your cousins, yet? You'll laugh, but I just had a meeting with the Hogwarts elves and sort of gained their allegiance, because I'm the Lord Slytherin now. I had to tell them not to help Riddle, because the family bond would've been strong enough for him to call on them.
Harry paused, frowning.
I think he used them before he attacked my parents; I'll have to find out what for. Do you think Voldemort couldn't use them last year because he was only possessing someone, and wasn't really there? If so, I'm glad, because house elves are really badass and I don't ever want to have one for an enemy. Dobby trying to be helpful was nearly fatal already!
The situation with Ron is ... not good. I talked to Professor McGonagall about it, that Ron's been spelled, I mean, and she gave me permission to end the spells somehow. I mean, Ron's kind of okay to be around right now, but everytime he says something, I can see the spells moving around him and forcing him to behave in a certain way, and it's horrible. I had nightmares about it last night and got held back after Transfiguration because I was useless. Professor McGonagall didn't take any points, fortunately. I guess what I want to know is whether I can really throw a Finite at Ron and see what happens, or if it's a bad idea. Professor McGonagall pointed out that the spells could be approved by Ron's parents, but she doesn't think that's actually true because the spells apparently make Ron volatile in class, and that his parents would be stupid for doing it.
The snakelings were a big help when I was following Ron around on Wednesday. Blue says he can smell and see magic, which is really cool. I only see the magic on Ron because my revealing spell is still active ... but then again it must be really distracting if you can't turn it off, so maybe it's not something I'd want to have for an ability. Just imagine seeing all the magic on everyone, all the time. I'd go blind!
Anyway, I miss you, and Brady, and the snakes. Greet them all from me!
Love,
Harry
Done with the personal part of his correspondence, Harry then turned to the letter Sharptooth had sent. There was a journal enclosed, with the Gringotts logo embossed on the red leather cover.
September 16th, 1993
Heir Potter,
As per your instructions, the contract offers for positions in your guest house in France have been sent, and all four were accepted within twenty-four hours without negotiations. Work begins on October 1st, and will mainly consist of getting acquainted with the property and the daily routines before we place our ad in the Wizarding International Times. I have calculated the cost of running the house, and added the standard percentage for hotel businesses to generate a profit. Please have a look at the enclosed catalogues to compare services and prices, and let me know whether you wish to implement any changes. Ideas, as ever, are welcome, so don't hesitate to voice them.
Additionally, Gringotts was able to locate a property close to the guest house, just a large house with five bedrooms and two bathrooms, which I could acquire on your behalf to house personnel and house elves who don't have their own accommodations upon beginning their work. It's not relevant right now, as all staff are French citizens, but in the future it could be a temporary home for qualified staff from other countries, or for part-time personnel like landscapers or builders, or even apprentices. Please read the enclosed proposal carefully and sign off if you agree with it. Should the house prove to be unnecessary after all, it won't be a problem at all to sell it at a profit later.
Lord Black will have told you that he found another of the Dark Lord's shades in a vault belonging to one of his family. It is Gringotts' desire to see these abominations destroyed as soon as can be arranged. Unfortunately, the ritual dedicated to cleanse a possessed item found in Lord Black's home was just yesterday, and the new find was too fresh to alter the arithmantic calculations of the ritual in time to have them both destroyed at the same time. The next new moon is on October 15th, and the shade will pass to the afterlife then. On that, you have Gringotts' word.
That being said, this circumstance has caused my Chief Ragnok to reconsider Gringotts' stance in the conflict. Where previously Gringotts has only offered its help in destroying these abominations, it is now willing to reach out and actively look for them. Including the one hidden in your scar, four have been found. It stands to reason that there will be more - at least three, as our magical theorists have told me, because seven is a magically significant number. Any and all ideas or hints are welcome, so please inform me immediately if you can think of something. The destruction of the Dark Lord will be a huge feather in Gringotts' cap, and one we'll be quite eager to lord over the wizards for centuries to come.
And last but not least, your Dobby asked me to relay to you that he has found six rescue hens he would like to adopt and settle in the garden of the cottage. They'd come into your possession for the symbolic price of one galleon apiece, to support the shelter they come from. He does not expect to get many eggs, but should there be a surplus, he wants to know what to do with them, same as with the vegetables and fruit the garden will yield next year. If you have a minute, it would please him if you could think about it.
May your attention be always sharp and the punishment of your enemies swift, youngling.
Sharptooth
Steward to the Potter Family
Senior Account Manager
P.S.: The enclosed journal is the promised gift from Lord Black to make our correspondence easier. Use it as often as you need to. As already explained, any official business will still be sent via official letter for our records.
Harry blew out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. There was a lot going on and his head was swimming a little. After a few minutes of contemplation, he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began to write.
September 17th, 1993
Steward Sharptooth,
Thank you for your update. I actually do have an idea how to help Gringotts work against Voldemort. I'd be good if you could assume the position of account manager for Slytherin, and get me a detailed overview of any and all possessions the family still has. If there are properties, I want them searched thoroughly, and then, if possible, sold. The same goes for shady artifacts and whatnot. I don't think I'd ever use them, or visit any houses or properties, even after Voldemort is no longer a member of the family. Let's just start fresh, and who knows, we might just get lucky.
Dobby has my yes for the chickens. If there are any surplus eggs and produce from the cottage garden, he can donate everything to a magical orphanage, if there even is such a thing in Great Britain. If there isn't, find me the magical school with the most charity cases and offer it to them. I'd like to keep it quiet, though, if they even accept, so if there could be vows involved, that'd be great.
You can also buy the house in France and get it secured and refurbished as necessary. If it's in good condition, I'd like to keep the changes minimal, because there's no sense in wasting perfectly good furniture and stuff. I think it'd be good for the magicals to learn how the mundanes live, in any case.
That should be all for now. Thanks for the journal!
May your coffers always overflow and the enemies of your clan cower in fear.
Harry James Potter
Heir of the House of Potter
Heir of the House of Black
Heir of the House of Slytherin
Harry scowled. Those were a lot of titles he was expected to parade around in official correspondence, at least in correspondence with Gringotts. He hoped that nothing more would need to be added, or he'd have to ask Hermione where he could buy stationary with this stuff already printed on it.
"Dobby," he called quietly and barely flinched when the elf appeared on the desk and right in front of him. "Hey, how are you?"
"Dobby be just fine," Dobby said with a happy bob. "Dobby be preparing the last of the vegetable patches for the guest house. Weather be much warmer in France than it be here. Dobby be working on enriching soil with ground volcanic stone from Madeira. Dobby traded with elf on island for it. Elf wanted clipping of feral moly, Dobby be hoping that taking it from Potter's Field be alright."
"Will the volcanic earth make the garden so much better?" Harry asked.
"Very much so, Harry Potter sir," Dobby said earnestly. "Things grow on Madeira all year, and they be rich in minerals and vitamins. Dobby be trading for more, if Harry Potter sir agrees. Soil at Potter Cottage could do with it."
"Then do it, but don't trade illegal things, alright?"
Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Dobby be very watchful!"
"Great, thanks." Harry smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. "How are you getting along with Jules?"
"He be strong where it be counting," Dobby said immediately. "He be liking books. He be reading! And he be teaching Ninja mean things." He frowned a little. "Jules be liking Betty very much. Dobby not sure he be liking this."
"I hope you won't fight over her ... too much," Harry said, making an effort not to grin.
"Females be choosing," Dobby said. "You be reading book, so you be knowing that we be needing to impress." He heaved a sigh. "Females be having harems. It be nerve-wracking. Dobby be training secretly to get stronger."
Harry had a feeling that he'd be treated to a house elf soap opera eventually and vowed to have popcorn ready when it started. "Well, Betty is really sweet, so I wish you good luck."
Dobby's ears twitched and he made a curious face. "Does Harry Potter sir be having any other jobs for Dobby?"
"Not really. I just wanted to ask about the lamps in the Chamber of Secrets. Did you have a chance to find some yet?"
"Oh yes, Dobby did! Dobby found lamps in a catalogue and Harry Potter sir's dogfather bought them for Miss Mione's birthday. He be promising that this be last contribution, because he not be wanting to steal Harry Potter sir's thunder."
Harry groaned. "He'll tease me about her until I'm grown up, won't he?"
"Dobby be thinking that Harry Potter sir's dogfather be never stopping," Dobby confided. "Healer Brady not be helping."
"Ugh." Harry huffed. "Alright, let Sharptooth have his letter. Will I see you again soon?"
"Very soon," Dobby promised. "Hoggywarty elves be needing more lessons for cooking good food for Harry Potter sir. I be serving dinner tonight."
"I'm looking forward to it," Harry admitted. "Hermione and I just feel so much better with your and Betty's fare."
Dobby puffed up proudly and popped away quietly, leaving Harry with the choice of doing nothing for his last free period, or starting on his homework.
Harry chose the homework, but he really, really wished that his days were longer so he could have at least a small break every now and then.
oOo
That night before dinner, Lavender and Hermione dragged him to the Hogwarts Herald's offices so he could finally give his oath to the newspaper. Professor McGonagall was already waiting to oversee the oath giving of several other students who wanted to work for the newspaper. Hermione told him that most of them were sixth years who wanted to collect a few easy extra credits with research jobs and admin tasks.
Unfortunately, Headmaster Dumbledore was also there and looking at everyone with a slight smile and twinkling eyes.
"Harry, my boy, I need to have a word with you," the old man said, before Harry had even time to really take in the eight large desks and the huge message board at the front of the room, and gestured Harry toward a calm corner of the room.
Harry fought hard not to look Dumbledore directly in the face as he waited for the headmaster to speak. Instead, he focused on Hermione, who was lifting an inquiring eyebrow.
She's standing too close to Zabini, Harry thought grumpily. That guy is like glue!
It was even worse that Zabini seemed just as curious as her, although he hid it a little better.
The silence lasted for almost a minute before Dumbledore sighed quietly and said, "It is to my utmost regret that I must ask you not to participate in this school club. My reason to refuse your chosen electives still applies, and since school clubs do not fall under the board of govenors' purview, this decision is final."
"Is that really the only reason?" Harry asked, temper rising. Belatedly, he tacked on, "Sir."
"What other reason could I possibly have?" Dumbledore asked, still trying to catch Harry's gaze.
"I don't know," Harry answered, voice a little sharp and definitely loud enough to catch Lavender's attention. "You tell me why I can't better my chances to get a job after school."
"What's going on?" Lavender demanded. She left the group of newbies with Professor McGonagall and hurried over. Hermione followed, brows drawn together in a frown.
Harry remained stubbornly silent and felt a vindictive bolt of pleasure when Dumbledore sighed again.
"I have decided not to allow Mr. Potter to participate in your newspaper club this year, Miss Brown," Dumbledore told her. Of course everone's attention was now on him. When Hermione made to speak, Dumbledore added, "He's had a few harrowing experiences these last few years and it is my duty as his magical guardian to guard his wellbeing as if it were my own."
"But he'd just write a few articles," Lavender protested. "That's not dangerous! The worst he could get is a papercut!"
"But it is time-consuming. I'm afraid that I won't be swayed," Dumbledore replied mildly. "Of course, Mr. Potter may always give up his place on the Quidditch team in exchange. I just thought that he'd rather not do that, if he had a choice."
Lavender huffed and Professor McGonagall looked like she would show her claws any minute now.
"You could have at least asked me," Harry said. He tamped down his anger out of habit. "I guess I'll try again next year, Lavender. Sorry."
She lifted her chin defiantly. "I'll just take your name off the Buckbeak article, then. You won't mind if Seamus gets all the credit, right?"
Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows rose. "That's skirting the line, Miss Brown."
"Don't be petty, Albus," Professor McGonagall said, clearly impatient with the power games. "Mr. Potter helped write the article before he knew that you'd forbid him to become a member of the club. You had better be sure that I'll allow Miss Brown to express her displeasure about that in the Herald. Freedom of speech is a valued creed in these offices, after all."
"Also, why can you even forbid Potter from participating, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Zabini asked into the uncomfortable silence. "Rumour has it that Sirius Black is Potter's actual magical guardian. His magically sworn godfather, who somehow hasn't lost his magic after his supposed betrayal. Shouldn't he be the one to make this decision?"
A Ravenclaw sixth year next to him nodded, while Parvati bit her lip nervously.
"Unfortunately that is not possible at this time, because Mr. Black is a wanted felon," Dumbledore murmured. "As long as he's not cleared, Mr. Potter's welfare remains my concern. Any more questions? No? Then please excuse me, duty calls."
He glided from the room, lime green robes trailing after him.
"Merlin, I'd go spare with him as my magical guardian," Zabini declared. He sat at a desk and picked up a quill. "You won't give up Quidditch over this, will you?"
"I don't think so." Harry scowled. "But I'd have liked to decide that for myself."
"I'll have words with the headmaster," Professor McGonagall said. "It seems that his interpersonal skills have gotten a little rusty since he's been a teacher." She looked around. "Now, who of you has a permission slip or letter from their parents? Yes, Mr. Smith ... good. Here is the vow. Repeat after me ..."
Harry watched as one after the other the students swore to uphold the Hogwarts Herald's charter and the international press codex.
"The headmaster could've told you this in private, and a lot sooner," Hermione fumed in a low voice next to him. She held Harry's hand and squeezed it. "What does he think he can accomplish by doing this?"
"Show me who's the boss, maybe," Harry said. He glanced at Hermione. "You know, maybe I should do it, just to spite him."
"Wood would kill you, and McGonagall too." Hermione pursed her lips. "And I think you'd mainly spite yourself in the end. Although you should do it if you really want to join the newspaper club, of course. The others would just have to come to terms with it."
Harry took a minute to think it over. "I guess not." He huffed. "Dumbledore still should've let me decide."
"Professor McGonagall will surely yell at him for it," Hermione said consolingly.
"I don't like him anymore," Harry said. "And I don't understand how I could have, before now."
"Oh, Harry." Hermione put her head on his shoulder. "I wish there was something I could do to help."
Harry wanted to tell her about Sirius, and Gringotts, and everything that had been going on these last few months. He wanted to show her that he trusted her. He did trust her - but he didn't trust most everyone else. Not Dumbledore or Snape, who could both read minds, nor people from the Ministry, who seemed content to believe that Sirius was a criminal and needed to die. He couldn't even trust Professor McGonagall or any of his other teachers, because Dumbledore could manipulate them so easily.
"You already do," he muttered and nuzzled her wild hair. "You're my friend, and you believe me."
"Always," Hermione promised. "Do you want to stay?"
"Nah, I'll just go back to the Tower and get a nap in," Harry decided. "I need a break, anyway."
She lifted her head and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Mmh, yes. You've got dark circles under your eyes."
"We'll plan our time better," Harry said, resolved to make sure that it actually happened. "The year has just started."
"Oh, we will." Hermione smiled. "Alright, shoo. I have to touch up my articles, and I promised Neville to help him choose a topic. He's narrowed it down to five, but now he's stuck."
"Good luck," Harry said and, since no one was looking at them right then, placed a small kiss onto Hermione's lips. "I'll see you at dinner. Dobby is bringing us food tonight."
Harry kept her bright grin in mind as he went back up the many stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Not many students were underway; some had their Patronus Club meeting, others were in the library, and a few brave souls had even dared to venture outside for a bit of flying. In the common room only a handful of students were playing games. The rest was busy with homework or, in the Weasley twins' case, doing an experiment on Neville's unlucky toad, Trevor. Since Neville was sitting close by and didn't seem overly worried, Harry just shrugged and trotted on, up to the boys' dorm.
To his dismay, Ron was there. He obviously hadn't heard Harry come in, which wasn't a big surprise, Harry thought, because he was fully immersed in trying to pry Neville's trunk open with the help of his wand and a butter knife. Around him, magic was churning and twisting, tightening and loosening again. A few strands looked a bit frayed around the edges, as if they'd been roughed up. By what, Harry had no idea, but it didn't seem very farfetched to assume that it might be Ron's abrasive personality. That Ron still seemed to be able to try and break into other people's things was shocking, and Harry felt another sliver of his loyalty to the boy shrivel up and die.
That's bad, bloody hell, but I probably won't get a better chance, Harry thought, letting his family wand slide from its holster. I'll wait for your advice, Sirius, but I need to put out the lights. I'm really hungry and starving won't do me any good.
As quietly as he could, he concentrated on the revealing charm and hissed, "Finite incantatem!"
The spell hit Ron square in the back, and all the lights went out at once.
Ron's back arched a little and he sucked in a huge gulp of air, dropping the knife. "Darn it," he cursed. "'m not getting that one open, either. Bloody Potter, giving everybody ideas."
He made to rise and Harry hastily stumbled back out the door, pretending to just come up the stairs as noisily as he could.
"Oh, hey," Ron muttered, holding one of his hands behind his back. "I, uh, was just leaving."
"Really?" Harry forced a smile. "Nice. I wanted to take a nap before dinner. I'll see you later."
Before Ron could start a conversation, Harry climbed into his bed, toed off his shoes and spelled the hangings shut. The desire to take his journal out and write Sirius was overwhelming, so Harry jotted down a short note and then did what he'd actually come to do: He undressed to his underwear, snuggled in and slept a solid hour.
oOo
Saturday morning was quickly becoming Harry's favourite time of the week. Having Hermione's undivided, unhurried attention was special, and he revelled in it ... even if she forced him to run and jump and twist and turn, and punch and kick invisible foes.
"Your form is pretty good," she praised him at the end of her lesson. "You just need to get over your inhibitions about the yoga. It's good for body and soul, you'll see."
"It just seems so complicated," Harry defended himself. "And I'm not as bendy as you. It hurts sometimes."
She looked contrite. "You have to tell me, Harry. It's not supposed to hurt, and I don't expect you to do more than you can safely manage. I thought I'd said."
"You did," Harry admitted and flushed a little. "I just ... I don't want to waste your time. I want to be fit quickly."
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry." Hermione sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. "You're doing so well, and we've only been doing this for two weeks. Trust me, I don't expect you to become Superman overnight. It takes time; developing a skill always does."
"It doesn't feel like I have much time," Harry admitted.
"Every little bit helps," she reminded him and pressed her cheek against his warm shoulder. "You're already better today than you've been last week, and next week you'll be better than today. You're working on it, you really can't do more."
Harry accepted her embrace, sweat and all, and leaned his head against hers. "Thank you. I hate when I'm like this."
"I understand where you're coming from," Hermione murmured. "Magic's pushing you a little, right?"
"How do you know?" Harry asked, glancing at her and marvelling yet again how beautiful her brown eyes were.
"Because it's pushing me, too," Hermione confessed. "When I help you, it gets better. I want to help you, but helping you means that I have to tell you to take breaks, too."
"I'm sorry." Harry felt misery well up inside of him. "I didn't want to drag you into any of this."
"Oh, hush," she said, a little peevish. "Voldemort might have picked you as his mortal enemy, but do you really think that he'd spare me, or people like me, should he manage to come back? All I'm doing is bettering my own chances of survival, so it's not like I'm super altruistic, here."
"Altruistic?" Harry questioned, a little overwhelmed.
"It means doing something for unselfish reasons, just because it's the right thing to do," Hermione explained. "I mean, it is the right thing to help you, don't get me wrong, but I also want to survive long enough to show Draco Malfoy and his ilk up so hard that people in Las Vegas take notice of my class act. That's pretty selfish."
"'Mione," Harry laughed, but sobered again quickly. "I'll do everything I can to protect you."
She smiled. "Good. That's actually your job as my boyfriend, if my mum can be believed. But right now I don't need protection. I just need ..." And she leaned closer and placed a lingering kiss on Harry's mouth. "I really like doing that."
"I really like it, too." Harry returned her smile. "You're so pretty. And I like how you smell."
"Eugh, really? I need a shower." Hermione scrunched up her nose, even as her high colour brightened a little further.
"Nah, you're fine." Harry snaked his arm around her waist and held her against his side so she couldn't run for a wash. Relief swamped him when she easily settled back down, apparently trusting his word. "What are you doing today?"
"I'll write my essay for Astronomy and finish your book on house elves. Tonight I might join Lavender and Parvati for their Herald meeting, it depends on whether there are relevant news in the papers. You?"
"I'll catch up on some reading and keep an eye on Ron. He seemed pretty okay at dinner, but who knows."
"That boy is a full-time job," Hermione complained. "I sort of understand why Professor McGonagall can't do it, but honestly, can't we just get him expelled and get it over with?"
Harry was a little shocked about her attitude and didn't hesitate to tell her so.
"I know," Hermione said, a little shame-faced and a lot righteous, "but think about it. Ronald doesn't do well in most social situations; he has absolutely no regard for the opinions and possessions of other people; and he's a lazy student at best."
Harry felt the same shrivelling sensation inside he'd felt the night before, and sagged a little.
"Also, him staying at Hogwarts is so disruptive, especially now that some of us know that he actually needs spells to be somewhat fit for polite company," Hermione continued. "I don't mean it as an insult, because Ron apparently can't help it, but ... do you want to spend the next five years with him hanging about and annoying you? Should any of us be subjected to that? It's stressful, even harmful, if his behaviour continues unchecked. Our grades could suffer, never mind our relationships with others, because Ron honestly is no one's idea of a good friend."
"He could learn, maybe," Harry replied, although he sounded dubious even to his own ears.
"At the expense of your education and peace of mind?" Hermione countered. "Harry, no. I'm all for giving people a second chance, but what Ron's done so far is ... honestly, it's beyond the pale. Dean told me he stole from you! Ron would have never, ever admitted it, and has he even offered to give the money back?"
"No," Harry admitted.
"Right. He's also lazy, and always gets you in trouble. I'm not a saint, either, but he's stupid about things that don't have to be an issue, like your flight with that car last year." Hermione collected herself and went on, a little calmer, "Hogwarts is supposed to be the best magical school in Britain, and attendance costs a ridiculous amount of money. I'm not saying that Ron shouldn't get an education, because he clearly needs one. Just not here. It's not fair to the rest of us who managed to get invited. I feel cheated as it is, I don't need a Ronald Weasley on top of it to make it even worse."
Harry could hardly argue against her points, but it did feel disloyal, and that disconnect between his rational and emotional side annoyed him.
"He was still my first friend," he murmured.
Hermione sighed. "I know. And that makes me so furious - that he would throw away your friendship for a few galleons and some perceived second-hand fame." She glowered at Harry. "There's nothing glorious about being almost killed by Voldemort, or a great ruddy snake. Just so we're clear."
"That last one wasn't really my fault," Harry replied, affronted. "I tried."
"You did." She snuggled closer and huffed angrily. "I honestly can't believe half the things the headmaster is allowing to go on in this castle. It's obscene. The next time he's doing something dumb, I'll write to the Ministry." She scowled. "After I've written an article for either the Herald or the WIT, because why bother with the Prophet. That way they won't get to sweep it under the rug."
Harry pulled her even tighter against himself. "You should watch out. Dumbledore can read minds, and I don't want to know what he would do to you to protect himself."
"He can try," Hermione said tartly. "I already owe him a punch to the throat. But, I read ahead in that book, The Art Of Secrecy, so I know not to look him in the eye. That reminds me ... you wanted to teach me Professor McGonagall's revealing spell."
"Oh! Yes, of course." Harry got up and fetched both their wands from the breakfast table Dobby had already set up. "It's not that hard - I guess it can't be, if Aurors need to use it a lot, and quickly."
He showed Hermione the spell a couple of times and then used it on her. She was mostly clean, although the discovery of an anti-baby charm had him blush hotly. Thankfully, Hermione didn't make a big deal out of his embarrassment and just explained why Madam Pomfrey issued the spell to such young girls.
"It's just common sense, since apparently many wizards and witches fall in love when they're young. There are also spells for boys, but for some reason," her eyebrow lifted sarcastically, "boys are never quite as concerned with birth control, especially the mundane-born."
"That's just stupid," Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to become a dad at thirteen! I mean, uh, not that I would ... I'm definitely not ready for ... oh, stop laughing!"
Hermione giggled. "You're cute when you're flustered." She sobered and took his hand. "It's just something my parents insisted on when they heard it was availabe. Madam Pomfrey will cast it for you, if you want it. There are no side effects; I researched her spell before my parents and I agreed to it."
Pulling a face, Harry muttered, "If your parents had to agree, I'll probably need Dumbledore's permission, but I don't think I want to have that conversation with him."
"Oh, you're right." Hermione took up her wand and twirled it. "Although you could still ask Madam Pomfrey, see if you even need permission. I mean, it's something students are encouraged to do, so I don't see how the headmaster could deny you."
"Can we go back to teaching you the revealing spell?" Harry begged. "I really don't want to talk about babies, or even think about them."
Hermione bit her lip, but she was clearly smiling. "Of course. I'm sorry."
Since breakfast was beckoning and they were getting hungry fast, Harry let Hermione try a handful of times before stopping the lesson. "Food first, we can do more later," he decided. As if on cue, his stomach growled.
"It's harder than I thought," Hermione told him after she'd poured tea for them both and handed Harry the milk jug. "Professor McGonagall really taught you in ten minutes?"
Harry shrugged. "Something like that. We were quite motivated. Scone?"
"Yes, please."
They busied themselves with buttering their scones and tasting the spinach tortilla Dobby had made for them. The first pot of tea was empty before Harry even got to eat his portion of Greek yogurt with elf berries, and half of the second one was also gone quicker than seemed reasonable for two children.
"I can't believe how hungry I am," Hermione groaned as she ate her poached egg. "I'm never this hungry after exercising, so it must be the magic I've used."
Harry, who was hungry as well, but couldn't find anything wrong with his appetite, just shrugged. "'S not like you'll get fat." He pushed the bowl with fresh elf berries over the table. "Have some more of those, they always fill me up."
After breakfast, Hermione insisted on giving the spell a few more tries. She concentrated on the wand movements and the words and was only a little disappointed that she hadn't quite managed it when Harry declared the lesson over.
"We'll work on it," he promised. "You're almost there."
"How do you know?" Hermione asked.
Harry averted his eyes. "Uhm, when you cast, the air kind of vibrates around you. I always know when you're close to getting it right."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Harry, that's ... that's amazing! Really?"
"Yeah, it's like how a thunderstorm feels just before lighting strikes and the first rain falls." Harry cleared his throat. "When the spell is about to work, it feels like the storm is breaking loose."
"Do all spells feel the same?" Hermione asked, still astonished.
"Nah, charms are sort of soft, and transfiguration is a little edgy. Like the difference between art and natural sciences, if that makes sense."