"Thanks for having us over," Harry said, "and for not minding us taking over your free time."
"Ah, yer always welcome, yeh know that," Hagrid said, straightening up again and patting both Hermione and Harry on their shoulders. "'sides, the hippogriffs liked bein' the center of attention - and they liked the ferrets even more! If yer didn't come so often ter ride 'em, they'd get awfully plump!"
Buckbeak screeched as if affronted, and Harry and Hermione laughed.
"Still, thanks for giving up your afternoon," Hermione said and stretched to buss a kiss to Hagrid's cheek. "We appreciate it."
"Aw, none of that now, Hermione," Hagrid grumbled, suddenly shy. "Go on back, dinner should be soon."
Waving, the young couple took their leave, and as they walked, Harry read Mr. Papageorgiou's letter out loud to Hermione.
It was short and to the point, and when Harry was done, he said, "Hagrid's friend seems like a really nice bloke. Anyone would be mad about this whole kerfuffle, but him, he's just ..." He shrugged, searching for the right word. "Supportive, I suppose."
"He is," Hermione agreed. She took the folded letter from Harry and placed it into her bag. "He truly must be well off if he's able to send a lawyer to argue Buckbeak's case, not to mention a private investigator. That'll certainly stir things up! Do you think I might interview him for the Herald? Everybody loves a good detective story."
"You might want to ask Mr. Papageorgiou first if he's paying for the detective's time," Harry said, "but why not? I'd sure read that article." He grinned. "It might be good to have something nice along with all the stuff Hogwarts is doing wrong."
Hermione smirked. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
"And I bet you a galleon that someone will found a detective club."
"Now who's offering a sucker's bet?" she teased. "If the paper weren't so important, I'd join in a heartbeat."
"You'd be scary good at it," Harry said sincerely, thinking back to first year, to the moment where Hermione had easily spotted the trap door beneath Fluffy's feet, when all he and Ron had managed to do was panicking. "Do you think I could do it? Be a private eye?"
Hermione's smile was soft and she held his hand with so much care that Harry blushed. "I think you'd be great at it, if it really interested you. That's where you shine, you know."
For a blissful moment, Harry imagined sneaking around Hogwarts and digging up unfortunate secrets - somehow he had a feeling that Dumbledore would like that even less than have him be a member of the school paper club, and it was delicious. A glance at Hermione's grin revealed that she was thinking along the same tracks, and they promptly broke out into giggles.
"Promise me that I get to witness this talk with Dumbledore," Hermione said as they entered the castle. "I'll pout horribly if I don't."
Harry sketched a shallow bow like Sirius had shown him and gallantly said, "Anything for my lady."
From next to a suit of armour, Ron glared fiercely at them both before turning on his heel and stomping toward their table.
oOo
Normally, Sunday was the quietest day of the week in Hogwarts. Normally, students would sleep in and have drawn-out breakfasts, followed by lazy walks all over the grounds or quiet study sessions.
This Sunday was anything but normal. The first shock of having a student newspaper full of complaints and hard truths had worn off, and now, according to Lavender, the time for reactions had come. Everybody was early in the Great Hall, and anticipation made the air thick and cloying.
Then it was there: a large shadow darkened the owl window, blocking out the feeble morning light and casting the Great Hall into ominous twilight.
"Those are a lot of owls," Lavender said dumbly, looking up at the dark swarm of birds entering through the window a moment later. "I didn't think there would be so many."
Parvati put her hands protectively over her breakfast and scowled. "They'd better not dive-bomb us! Once was enough!"
Several of the older students took their wands out, ready to place shields if it became necessary, but just as the first owl made to descend, a blue spell out of Professor McGonagall's wand hit the swarm and redirected the birds to a high-up alcove where they promptly vanished. The newcoming owls followed, leaving the Great Hall in an orderly stream of quietly whispering wings.
"Mail direction ward," Percy said to the gaping younger years. "The school's house elves will collect the mail and screen it for dark stuff. You guys from the newspaper club should be prepared for a summons, since most of it will be for you, if not all."
"Well!" Lavender squared her shoulders. "We were prepared for that!"
"Not for that!" Seamus argued. "That were close to a couple hundred of letters!"
"And likely more," Fred Weasley offered. "Well done!"
George grinned. "If you've got any howlers, may we pretty please have them? We'd like to examine them ... for science."
Hermione inelegantly snorted her tea into her fruit salad. "Ow, for god's sake."
Fred and George high-fived each other and Ginny snickered.
"Here." Harry offered her his handkerchief, something Zippy, the Potter head elf, had insisted he carry around in the breast pocket of his robe. It was a little terrible how soon he'd had need to use it, but at least it wasn't a completely stupid and poncy thing to do. "I don't want to know what they need them for."
"Me neither," Hermione sighed. She carefully dabbed her face and then vanished the mess on the table with a quick flick of her wand. "Do you want to come with us and help deal with it?"
"Sure," Harry said easily. With nothing to take up his time except his talk to Healer Williams later, and the snakelings contentedly sleeping wound around his arm and in his pocket respectively, he was looking forward to learning what Britains magical people thought about their newspaper.
Despite being understandably excited, not to mention wary, Lavender more or less graciously managed to let her Paper Club members finish their breakfast before getting up and marching up to the head table, where Professor McGonagall was already awaiting them.
In short order, the students were shown to a large room where Hogwarts elves were guarding the letters. In one corner, barred by a shimmer of magic, about a dozen or so howlers were quivering in their basket.
"Er, Fred and George asked whether they could have the howlers," Harry said to Professor McGonagall. "They want to study them ... for science."
"I'm afraid that these howlers are destined to go to Madame Bones' office at the Ministry of Magic," Professor McGonagall replied mildly and with only a slight lift of her eyebrow. "However, I'll personally afford them the opportunity to study a howler, Mr. Potter, and soon. After all, it wouldn't do to refuse such enterprising young men the opportunity to improve their knowledge, now would it?"
Harry blanched a little, nodded, and quickly skedaddled, lest she decided that he was in need of a howler to study, as well.
"Listen up, please," Professor McGonagall called when the last of the Paper Troupe as well as Professors Vector and Sinistra had entered the room. "Our wonderful house elves have made sure that nothing in these letters is overly harmful. However, due to the, ah, explosive nature of some of our paper's articles, it behooves us to screen the contents carefully. Therefore, we'll set up stations. First tier are the professors. We will scan the missives for threats and adult content, as well as missives from newspapers looking to buy articles."
Lavender raised her hand. "May I please take notes on that, Professor? I'd like to make a list for research and future engagements."
"Certainly, Miss Brown. After that, the seventh years among you will take a closer look, weed out the letters that might require legal action, and sort the rest into categories."
"What categories, Professor?" Blaise Zabini asked promptly.
"Let's keep it simple for this tier. Divide into questions, complaints, letters to the editor, and praise." Professor McGonagall paused, giving them all the gimlet eye, and went on, "The sixth through fourth years will further sort the letters into categories, and the rest of you will keep a tally of how many missives went into each category. That will gives us an idea which topics caused the most reactions and will make it easier to counteract possible attacks."
"And speaking of attacks," Professor Sinistra spoke into the wary silence, "you might want to know that Gringotts has hired a lawyer for the Hogwarts Herald to ward off probable shenanigans, Ministry or otherwise. The goblins' words, not mine."
Harry couldn't help himself, he grinned, and a few of the others were fighting a laugh as well.
"Well then, you know what to do. Aurora, Septima, to me please. Tier two, over there. Tier three, you take the large table in the corner, tier four you get the table with the baskets. The rest of you, please ready the board for your tally, and prepare to write notes for every category so that we might offer comprehensive answers if necessary."
Professor McGonagall clapped into her hands once and the students moved to their assigned places. Two minutes later, the first letters landed in front of eager eyes and the rush of sorting began. Soon, shouts of, "Ministry bootlicker!" and, "Another sheep to the denier pile!" rang through the room. The professors scolded for the stronger language, but never actually took points, which only encouraged the students to huff aloud over the many contrary opinions. The praise pile remained depressingly small.
"People are really into accusing us of lying when it comes to Sirius Black," Parvati noted as she put another mark into the 'Sirius Black can't be abroad!' column of their tally. She glanced shrewdly at Harry. "I'm confident that they'll all eat their words."
"They will," Harry replied, not returning her look. "Is it just me or do most people want Buckbeak dead?"
"They do," Hermione said glumly, making a note in the column dedicated to the hippogriff. "But I recognize most of the names; they're largely purebloods."
"And likely allies of the Malfoy," Parvati added. "My father knows who's associated with which voting block in the Wizengamot. Politics shouldn't extend to Hogwarts, but they do, of course, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy caused all that trouble on his daddy's say-so."
"Mr. Malfoy wanted to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts last year," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. "I didn't think he'd do something so obvious, but maybe he's already factored in Draco's absolute inability to be subtle. Honestly, that boy should've been a Gryffindor, and under different circumstances he and Ron would probably be best friends."
Parvati's sister Padma snorted out an inelegant laugh. "Good Lord, Hermione!"
"It's true! That blond little gremlin is hardly able to point a finger without cackling with glee. How in the world would he instigante an elaborate inside coup? He'd expire before he'd even set up all his little traps," Hermione defended herself. "Another one for the 'Snape needs to go' column. At least something's going right."
Despite the huge amount of letters, they managed to have them sorted by lunchtime. The Hogwarts head elf, Romy, popped in herself to take the offending Howlers and threats to the Ministry of Magic, and straight into the hands of Amelia Bones.
Harry hoped that beside prosecuting the people who thought it was okay to threaten students with violence and death, Madam Bones was keeping a tally on how often Professor McGonagall was being spelled. Even now his professor was visibly struggling to adhere to her convictions, her hands unusally reluctant to release the explosive burden into the elves' care. Harry was just glad that the other two teachers were more than willing to support her, and that the house elves wanted to protect Harry, and in turn all the other students, to the best of their abilities. In a flash, they snapped up the howlers and letters and popped away.
"It can't go on like this," Hermione whispered as they marched towards the Great Hall. She was pale and her voice shook a little. "I noticed, Harry. For the first time, I actually noticed that Professor McGonagall is cursed. We need to get help."
Harry pressed his lips together. "I'll ask around." He didn't dare say more due to the portraits around them, even with their Muffliato in place. "Do you want to take a walk after lunch?"
"And then the library?" Hermione asked hopefully. "My essays for Charms and DADA aren't finished, yet."
"Sure."
During lunch, the letters were the topic number one. All four house tables buzzed with enthusiastic conversations, although no one was more gleeful than Lavender. Not only had the Wizarding International Times contacted them, but several other international publications as well. Over dessert, the talk finally turned from loud excitement to concern.
"Do you think having some nutters wanting to go after the Paper Troupe will get the Hogsmeade visit cancelled?" Cormac McLaggen asked.
Harry didn't know the other boy well, only that he wasn't much liked among the girls, but he could admit that the question expressed a valid concern.
"We hope not!" Fred and George cried, followed by nearly all the other upper years.
"Well, they won't cancel security just because Hermione claimed that Black is in Italy or wherever," Ron drawled once the commotion had died down again. "What are a few more sickos trying to stir up trouble? Won't change much, I'm thinking, and if they'd wanted to cancel the trip, they'd have said so already. Not that they shouldn't do it, really, because I for my part don't think Black actually went away."
It galled that Ron was probably right about that, but Harry forced his irritation down and tried to be grateful instead. He still had to formally ask Hermione out, just like Sirius had advised him, because he sure as hell couldn't trust some of the boys here not to do it first.
"Do you think we should ask the professors?" Angelina Johnson asked. "I really don't want to rock the boat, but having it cancelled a day or two before would be even worse."
"Nah, we shouldn't," Lee Jordan answered. "Weasley's right, Dumbledore and the professors are already in contact with the aurors. They'll take care of it. Besides, we just have to wait until tomorrow to see whether Black has really left the country," he nodded at Hermione, "and then the Ministry can do whatever they need to do to ensure our safety. I say we leave it for now."
It was a good suggestion and the Gryffindors agreed to wait a week before thinking about it again. Even Ron agreed, although with ill grace, as he was banned from going until the end of term. A rush of warmth travelled from Harry's chest to his hands and feet at the easy show of cameraderie; he wondered if that was the supposed feeling of 'family' Professor McGonagall had mentioned before their sorting in first year.
Under his robe, Sweetie and Blue were getting restless, their little tongues scenting the air and tickling Harry in the process.
After the dishes were finally cleared away, Harry went up to his common room as quickly as he could to set the snakes free and change for his and Hermione's walk. As soon as he had privacy inside his closed bed hangings, the snakes flowed out of his sleeves.
For a moment, Harry's world stopped, only to resume spinning with a lurch and thundering in his ears.
"Sweetie!" he gasped in a hushed voice when he saw her shiny, thin body curling once around his right wrist before slithering onto the bedspread to present herself with opened hood. "You're out of your shell!" Carefully, so carefully, he stroked a trembling finger over her smoky blue body. Her pink markings were starkly pretty in contrast to her overall dark hue, only surpassed by her glowing orange eyes. "You're beautiful, love."
"It was time," Sweetie informed him, radiating pleasure at his admiration. "Now I'm as beautiful as brothers and sisters. Harry's magic very good nourishment!" She dipped her tiny head and a frisson of pure adoration met Harry's magic and tangled with it. "Thank you, Harry."
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm glad you're okay." Harry carefully scooped her up, doing the same with Blue, and held both snakelings against his chest. "You're both fine."
The snakes' pleasure stoked Harry's own and caught him in a loop of offered and returned affection until magic drifted over all of their skins that made the little ones' markings shine and glitter.
"Harry is beautiful," Sweetie hissed drowsily. "So strong and nice. I'm tired now, I don't want to go out into the cold."
"I'll protect little sister," Blue said, curling around Sweetie and flicking Harry's thumb with his tongue. "You walk alone with your mate."
Harry flushed a little. "I want to ask her out on a real date," he confessed. "Should I bring a flower?"
"She probably doesn't want a juicy mouse, after having just eaten," Blue said, tilting his head consideringly. "If your female likes flowers, give her one."
"There aren't many at Hogwarts I could just take, but maybe Dobby can help," Harry said with a grin.
At once, the house elf appeared before him, eyes wide with eagerness. In his hands, he already held a beautiful little bouquet of daisies and small, violet flowers Harry couldn't place.
"Dobby has flowers!" he squeaked. "Daisies be meaning innocent love, and malvas be meaning best friend. Dobby be choosing well, Harry Potter sir?"
"It's perfect," Harry murmured, marvelling to what lengths his friend was going to to ensure his comfort. He accepted the bouquet and took a moment to admire the fragile blossoms. "Thank you, Dobby. You always know just what I need."
With his breast proudly puffed up, the house elf popped away and Harry finally got around to dress warmly and, after some begging from Sweetie and Blue, sent Jules to take the snakelings and Sweetie's egg shell to the Chamber of Secrets for safekeeping.
"The snakes are happy in front of the fireplace," Jules told Harry after his return. "Potter elves installed it so Harry Potter sir and his Miss Mione won't freeze. May I spell the flowers to keep fresh in Harry Potter sir's pocket?"
"Yeah, thanks, that'd be great," Harry said, straigthening his robes for the third time in as many minutes. "I'm a little nervous."
Jules' large eyes blinked slowly. "If a female is important, males know they must work hard to impress."
"Right." Harry managed a little smile. "Speaking of which, how's it going with Betty?"
Jules scowled. "She has lots of strong elves to choose from. It's no good right now. Jules must find a different way to impress beautiful Betty."
Harry could imagine what heartbreak this probably was for the little house elf. "You're smart, you'll find something," he said encouragingly.
Jules' ears quivered and his breath hitched. "Jules really likes Betty. Jules nearly had to iron his toes because he spent so much time thinking about her instead of helping Ninja learning to read. Love makes Jules a bad, bad elf!"
Noticing how much Jules' grammar slipped when he was upset, Harry awkwardly patted the narrow shoulder. "It's okay. You don't need to iron parts of yourself just because you're lovesick. I mean, that's normal, isn't it? You see someone you like, and sometimes it doesn't work out. But maybe it will, Jules. Give it some time, be a good friend. I think Betty's still sad because her old master died. She might not want a boyfriend anytime soon."
"She is still said," Jules admitted. "Jules will try to be the best friend and not give courting gifts during mourning ... even though some of Harry Potter sir's family elves aren't so nice." He sniffed a little wetly. "They were alone a long time. They be wanting new families. Jules can't even be properly mad."
"Dear god," Harry muttered. "If that's going the way I imagine it'll go, we'll need quite a bit of space for the lot of you." And I should probably get the house elf book back from 'Mione and read the part about courting and mating again. Just in case I need to have a house built, or more cupboards, or something. Out loud, he said, "Keep me in the loop about who's courting whom, and how many of you want babies and stuff. That's your job now, and you can't give it back."
Jules' huge eyes stared hopefully at Harry. "Harry Potter sir will really think about allowing his elves to have babies?"
"Er, I don't see why not," Harry replied. "I mean, I know that I kind of have to support you magically, and feed you, of course, but I gathered from your book that you'll know when it's enough. If you want families and kids that badly, I'm assuming that I can support you, so ..." He shrugged helplessly, "Have at it. Within reason, because I can't feed you all yet, I don't think."
Jules' lower lip wobbled and his breath hitched.
"Am I wrong to say that?" Harry asked uncertainly. "I'm sorry if I am, I didn't want to make you sad."
"Jules is happy!" the elf declared, pitching forward and hugging Harry messily. Even for a supposedly weak elf, he still had a good grip. "Jules has watched and hoped for nearly a year, and now he knows without a doubt that Harry Potter sir is the best of wizards! Dobby was right. Dobby is always right."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry hugged the sniffling elf back. "Thank you. I'll always try to let you and your friends have a good life. I promise."
Jules placed his little hand on Harry's chest and a warm current of magic shot from him to Harry. "Jules knows. Jules loves his new family and would rather die than be parted from it."
"Hey now, no talk of dying, please," Harry murmured, arching a little into the sensation. When it was over, he sighed. "You crazy thing. You bound yourself too tight."
"Jules is bound just right, now," the house elf countered, expression firm and his magic warm and steady. "House Potter is where Jules belongs."
"Then be welcome," Harry said quietly, pushing his magic back and creating a loop not unlike what he had experienced with the snakes earlier. "On behalf of my now and future family, I thank your for your trust and service."
Now the tears spilled over and Jules began to cry. "Harry Potter sir even learned the traditional words. Jules is so blessed."
"We're both blessed." Harry tried not to let the feelings of euphoria and sheer power get to his head, but he couldn't help the gently cupping of the elf's face, and the stroke over the large ears. As if by themselves, words rose from within his breast, and he said, "You'll keep me grounded, and close to my family."
"Jules will," Jules promised solemnly. "Jules is the butler, he'll always watch over his Harry Potter sir's family."
And Harry just knew he would. Their new bond didn't leave any room for doubt.
It was hard to leave their small bubble, but Harry knew he had to. Hermione was probably wondering and worrying what was keeping him so long, and now that the strangely festive mood had lessened a little, he was suddenly craving her company.
After a heartfelt goodbye, Harry hurried downstairs, flowers safely in his pocket, and offered Hermione his arm to make up for his tardiness. At least the weather was still dry, with the sun occasionally peeking through the rolling clouds. They were also gone quickly enough for anyone to decide to tag along.
Half an hour later, as they were rambling around the Black Lake, Harry told Hermione about the strange occurence with Jules, sparking an interesting discussion about his personal experience versus the description of that particular bonding in the little house elf book. After that, it came as easy as breathing to Harry to ask Hermione to spend the Hogsmeade day with him, and even easier to withstand her eager kisses.
oOo
"It was almost like a dream," Harry said to Healer Williams, who had taken a leaf out of Sirius' book and Floo-called instead of writing in their journal. "I was floaty all afternoon." He paused, mind wandering to Hermione's kisses, and how warm and right she had felt in his embrace. It didn't matter that they'd been bundled up in their warmest cloaks and scarves to combat the nippy wind - he was convinced that he'd held her far closer. "It was probably the thing with Jules."
"Yes, I think so, too," Healer Williams said gently. "When a house elf bares their soul to a wizard or witch, if they let their magic touch, it is a supremely intimate experience. The way you described it, you knew at once what Jules is best suited to do in your household, and he knew right then and there what you're made of."
"I don't think he planned it," Harry murmured. "We talked about family and babies, and he just ... did this. I'm worried that he'll regret it soon."
"Do you regret it?"
Harry shook his head. "Of course not. The elves are all great, and they should find partners and have kids if they want them. If I can help with that, that's fine. But being with Hermione afterwards was so odd. I felt so close to her."
"Did you talk to her about it?" Healer Williams asked.
"Yes, we talked it all over. She found it fascinating that house elves can form different bonds, and that Jules decided to go for the one bond that's practically unbreakable." Harry flushed a little. "She actually found it a little funny that I was out of it."
"But she didn't hate it, or find it weird how you reacted to her," Healer Williams completed the sentence. At Harry's shy headshake, he smiled. "I can't speak for her, of course, but women generally react well to men who aren't afraid to show affection. Society places constraints on us that can make it difficult to show the depth of our feelings without being mocked for it, and I'm glad, very glad indeed, that you're not afraid to form lasting bonds. Your unfortunate upbringing did have me worried."
"Bonds with house elves are different from human relationships, though," Harry pointed out and looked away from the fire. "They're honest and easy in a way they're not with ... with people. I'm afraid I'll ruin it eventually."
"The Dursleys weren't a very good role model, but they did teach you a valuable lesson ... they taught you what you don't want in a family setting. It sounds outlandish, but some people never learn this about themselves." Healer Williams smiled gently. "You're old enough to know what parts are important to you. With time, you'll also find out which of the less wonderful parts of other beings you're willing to accept for the sake of closeness. Family is a complicated web that's shifting and changing as you and your loved ones go through life, but that's in part what makes it so desirable - to have people to come home to, and to be home for those same people, and to experience and, to a certain degree, share in their personal growth."
"You're still close to your family," Harry mumbled. "It's easy for you to say that, Brady."
"It is," Healer Williams acknowledged without taking offence. "I had the great fortune to be born into a loving, large family. My parents both yet live, and I was afforded every privilege a child could wish for, just like my brother. All of my aunts and uncles are close, as well, and we rarely argue. Seeing how much others are struggling with their family lives made me aware just how lucky I've been, and still am. That's why I went into mind healing; I want to help others find it for themselves. We can be good people for our own sakes, but the truth is that we'll always work harder to become better people for those we love. Therefore, it is important to know whom to invite into your life, and how."
"That's just it. How do I know that people are even worth it?" Harry asked glumly, bitterly thinking back to all those times his aunt and uncle had refused to acknowledge his attempts to please them. Ron wasn't that far behind, and that was a really bitter pill to swallow.
"You don't at first. It's a give and take," Williams allowed gently as if reading Harry's mind. "You offer something and they reciprocate - or they don't. Once a boundary is established, you'll know how to navigate your relationship with them. Sometimes it goes smoothly, and sometimes it can get rocky. Let's take your godfather as an example: He forged a bond with you when you were still an infant. After your separation, his willingness to love you and care for you was unabated, and it resonated in your bond when you met again. You reacted to that right away and offered him your friendship, just because he was suffering and wanting so badly to be by your side. He offered you everything when he was in a bad place, and you reciprocated unconditionally. That's the kind of offer family makes."
"But isn't that because we already had a bond?" Harry asked, a little embarrassed. "I didn't exactly have a choice as a baby; it might be ... memory. Or magic. It's different than a normal friendship."
Healer Williams laughed. "True enough, you did have the bond, but that bond in itself does not facilitate love. Rather, the bond, once it has formed, makes it easy for you both to know each other magically, to issue an invitation for a deeper connection and accept it, if you're inclined to do so. You're very compatible, that's why your parents chose Sirius as your godfather in the first place, and eventually as your third parent. They hoped that you'd grow very close over the years, but they could hardly make it so without invasive potions or charms. Just because you're magically compatible with someone doesn't mean that you like them as a person, and you shouldn't fall into that trap if you can help it."
"I do like Sirius," Harry murmured. "A lot."
"Would you feel that way even without the bond telling you this?" Williams prodded gently.
Harry lowered his gaze to his wringing hands, suddenly shy. "I think so. I feel safe. Like I can do anything. And I know that he'll always be on my side." He cleared his throat. "It's weird, to be honest, since we're still sort of strangers."
"There's no shame in being wary," Healer Williams comforted him. "Sirius understands perfectly well, and he's glad. Don't think that he isn't re-evaluating all his relationships after Peter Pettigrew's betrayal and his time in Azkaban. He'll have a hard time trusting anyone again, maybe for a long time, if not forever. But he has you, and he'll rely on you to keep him afloat for a while." He looked searchingly at Harry. "That's what family means, too. To take care of each other when the going gets tough."
"I'll do that," Harry said firmly. "I won't lose him again ... and also, Hermione promised to go avenging with me if stupid things happen. Together, we'll keep each other safe."
"Is that so?"
Harry didn't think he was imagining the laughter in the healer's eyes. "Yes. The Ministry had better not try to hurt her over that mess with Sirius." He crossed his arms. "I'll meet Mr. Finch next week; I'd make them all regret it."
Now Brady did laugh, loud and free. "I almost wish they would. Walker, Stone & Finch are the most feared law firm in all of Europe." He chuckled for a minute longer and then he asked, "How do you like Tuva Stone so far? I heard some things already, but I'd like to hear it from you, if you don't mind."
"She's great," Harry said, only too glad to shake off the residual embarrassment. "She explains everything, and is super patient when we have questions. Neville will join us next week and she already said that he can work at his own pace to catch up. If she keeps being great, I'm pretty sure that Hermione will want to interview her ..."
For the rest of their hour, Healer Williams listened attentively to what Harry told him about his time at Hogwarts. That Professor McGonagall had been spelled yet again made him frown, and Dumbledore's strange behaviour after the Hogwarts Herald had been published earned a raised eyebrow, but he refrained from commenting. His only advice was to keep his eyes open and a couple of his his elf friends close by so Harry wouldn't be caught unawares.
"I think they're working on a schedule," Harry admitted. Blue was climbing up on him and winding around his neck. "Hey you, where's your sister?"
"Sister has caught the scent of a mouse," Blue hissed. "She went to investigate."
"She what?" Healer Williams blurted out. "Harry!"
"Oops," Harry said sheepishly. "I forgot to tell you. After lunch, Sweetie suddenly left her egg shell! She's really pretty, and she seems healthy. She and Blue went to the Chamber of Secrets to hang out and the house elves checked in on them often. They came back just before you called."
"We're warm and sated," Blue added, rubbing his little head against Harry's cheek. "Sister Favourite need not worry."
"That's good to know, but I'd prefer to have a look at you and your sister myself," Williams said. "She was so small when we found her. Please indulge me, little one."
"I'll send Sweetie over tonight," Harry said. "Blue, do you want to go with her? I could have Goldie and the quiet one over instead."
"I won't leave Sister alone yet," Blue confirmed. He rubbed Harry's cheek with his again. "Harry not do stupid things without us. Mean humans stink of aggression. Brother will bite the humans who try to hurt you."
"He won't need to. I have lots of friends to protect me now," Harry said. Still, gratitude welled up in him and he let Blue feel it through a careful touch of his fingers. Hissing softly, the snakeling writhed in the softly drifting magic, while Healer Williams looked on thoughtfully.
"The Head Snake Breeder will want to have the snakelings back eventually, Harry," Williams said softly. "I know that you haven't had them long, but you've already grown attached. You need to be prepared to be parted from them."
Harry nodded, although there was a small lump in his throat. "I know."
"They won't bond for a good while yet, and I promise that I'll do my best to send them over for visits," Williams said. "And the goblins in the snake program will of course take the snakes' wishes into consideration, even if I'm not present. Don't be too surprised if you have guests for sleepovers."
"That reminds me that Portos still gets one. And how's Snake?" Harry asked, brightening a little. "I hope they're doing well."
Williams laughed. "Portos is charming his way through the single ladies, and Snake has just returned from a short trip to Hungary. I'll tell them both that you asked after them."
Harry grinned. For Blue's benefit, he slipped back to parseltongue. "I get that Snake likes to travel and see new things, but how can he talk to other snakes? Don't they have their own languages?"
"They do, when they're not magical," Williams said. "But that's not stopping the little guy. He's fearless and likes to make new friends."
"Uhm, what about lizards and stuff? We met some mokes the other day in Hagrid's class, and they have a really funny accent," Harry said. "Like Low German or something."
"You can understand mokes?" Brady asked, leaning forward in the Floo fire.
"Badly," Harry said with a shrug, careful not to dislodge the snakeling around his shoulders. "I guess it's a language I could learn, with enough effort. Have you talked to one? Ours were friendly enough."
"I have tried to talk to every magical reptilian there is, but I could only converse with snakes." Williams blew out a breath. "That you can is a little amazing, Harry. Snake definitely can't, he would have told us."
"It wasn't very impressive," Harry mumbled and fought down the flush that threatened to overtake his face. "Don't make it a big deal, please."
"I won't if you don't want me to, but I'd like to give you some homework."
"Must you?" Harry groaned.
"It might come in handy one day," Healer Williams said. "I want you to meet as many different reptiles as you can and try to speak to them. Let me know what happens. If it wasn't a fluke, there might be a unique opportunity for you to advance the field, so to speak. As far as I know, there aren't any other parselmouths who can speak to anything other than snakes."
"I'll ask Hagrid if he can show us some more," Harry gave in. "But I wanted to learn French, first. Seriously, when am I supposed to do it all?"
"Harry not meet too many four-leggers," Blue hissed. He stared at Healer Williams' head in the green flames. "They not good fit for companions."
"Oh dear," Brady sighed. "No worries, Blue, we just want to find out whether Harry can even understand your cousins, and if so, how much of it." To Harry, he said, "May I send you a recording device? To understand what's going on, it'd be good to have both sides of your conversations."
"And you'll also want notes," Harry huffed. "Of course. But I'll take Hermione with me. She's way better at this science stuff than I am."
"I have no objections," Williams assured him. "Thank you, Harry. You can't see it, but I'm actually trembling a little right now. So little is still known about parselmagic, parseltongue, and our craft. It's exciting to stumble over this ... my magic is flaring and upsetting my office, that hasn't happened in years. For both of our sanities, please inform your godfather. He needs to impose limits on me, not just because I'm supposed to be your counsellor, but because I don't want to alieniate you both with my demands."
"It's the Quest For Knowledge, isn't it?" Harry asked with a wry smile. "I get it, you know. Hermione's the same when she finds something new and interesting."
"Yes, that quest," Williams said. "But you're not knowledge, you're a person, and a very young one at that. I'll report to Sirius and Sharptooth, and you should do the same. Before you argue, yes, it'll probably amount to yet another contract, but that's fine, Harry. We need it to protect your interests, and I want it so I'll be able to keep working with you."
"It's fine," Harry admitted. "I can do some experimental stuff for you, but I honestly have more important things to do right now. If we need a contract to keep to an hour a week or whatever, I can live with that." He allowed himself a grin. "We'll talk again if you want to write a book about it. Sharptooth has opinions about people who publish books and articles about me."
Brady laughed and groaned at the same time. "Malijar help me, he does."
End of part 14