Part 16
Saturday morning for Harry began, as usual, with a sneaky trip to the Come and Go Room, progressed with the customary hour of exercise, and ended with a delicious, drawn-out breakfast.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked Hermione over their sweet potato waffles with elf berry compote and potion-laced custard. "You're quieter than usual. I thought that thing with Ginny would have you up in arms."
"I am up in arms," Hermione huffed, blowing a loose strand of curly hair out of her still pleasantly flushed face. In Harry's opinion Hermione was always pretty, but rarely prettier than during or after excercising. "But there's little I can do to avoid Ginny or others who want to inopportune me. I'm trying to figure out why she's started with that at all, and so obviously. She's usually smarter than that."
"We should be glad that she wasn't," Harry countered. "Gave us warning enough to dodge her and others ... for now."
"Mmh, yes." Hermione sipped her coffee and frowned. "It's just so weird. Nothing about it fits, and who even put her up to this? It certainly weren't her brothers; Ron wouldn't angle for better teaching if his life depended on it, and the others just aren't the type."
"Percy was actually mortified when Neville told him what happened," Harry admitted. "He asked whether we'd require a written apology, and a declaration of cease and desist, because apparently that's how it's done if such shenanigans get called out."
"Would it be lawfully binding?" Hermione helped herself to another of the crunchy waffles and heaped guacamole and bacon onto it. "If it is, I might just take him up on that."
"Not sure, but I'll ask. Me, I'll just tell Sirius, Sharptooth, and Mr. Finch what's going on. They'll probably find a way to stop all of this."
"I'm officially envious now," Hermione sighed.
"It's annoying, but I promised Sirius that I'll let the grown-ups deal with all the stuff about money and marriage and whatnot," Harry replied. "We have enough on our plates anyway; I have to read five whole chapters for History of Magic, and Herbology totally slipped my mind. That's sixteen inches on the uses of valerian root until Thursday!"
"The plant is very interesting, at least," Hermione consoled him and stuffed a bite of her waffle into her mouth. "If you need some help getting started, I can give you a list of the books I've used."
"That'd be great, thanks. In the afternoon, I'll have to fill in the names on Neville and my invitations for our godbrother ceremony, and afterwards I'm meeting with Ernie, Parvati, and Goyle for spell practice. Why don't you get your group together and we'll meet in one of the Transfiguration rooms?"
"I'd love to, although Professor McGonagall might not thank us for getting ahead of her teaching plan."
"Eh, she'll be happy enough to know that we actually studied ahead instead of slacking off." Harry braved Hermione's stabby fork to get to the last of the bacon and grinned when his seeker reflexes made him the victor in their little scuffle. "Did Romy meet with you and the other girls for planning?"
"She was very enthusiastic, and you deserve all the hugs for thinking of including them in the party. She was terribly happy and I'm not ashamed to say that I've cried a little." Hermione cleared her throat. "Anyway, I told her that we'd love Dobby's healthy food, like for my birthday, and that you'll be good for the money they might need to accomplish it. I hope that was alright."
"Yes, of course. Neville and I have enough funds for the party, his gran and Sirius insisted." Harry crunched on a strip of bacon to gather his courage. "My house elves will come, too."
"That's three more, is that a problem?" Hermione asked, tilting her head curiously.
"Er, well, make it forty-eight now, Dobby, Betty, and Jules included. Dunno if you've got them planned in."
Hermione's eyes bulged with her astonishment. "Well, they are now! Why are there suddenly so many? And how?"
"Turns out my family has a lot of house elves who Dumbledore forbade to do any work except on the family estate. He specifically forbade or help me when I was with my relatives the last twelve years, but Sirius sent them over as soon as he could so they could repair the bond between us and recharge their magic." Harry blushed. "They're taking a lot of, uh, covert jobs to help it along. Like, monitoring Dumbledore and Snape. I don't know where the information is going, actually, but I suspect that Sirius and our lawyers are regularly getting the Hogwarts special."
Hermione giggled at that, even though she still looked a little dumbstruck. "Surely not all of them. That'd be some very, uh, detailed surveillance."
"Nah, Dumbledore and Snape aren't that interesting. Some of the elves went to learn how to fight because they insist on providing security. And some have assigned themselves new positions in my household."
"Like?" she prompted him.
Harry hesitated for only a second. "Jules has become my butler, and there's Jerry who's probably my valet slash personal bodyguard now, although that's not yet official. And Dobby's off doing my personal business stuff, no idea what job that actually is."
"Personal assistant?" Hermione offered.
"Yeah, kind of, but also more. It's hard to describe."
"That sounds fascinating ... and really lovely." Hermione sat back with a little huff. "How does this happen? This assignation of jobs?"
"Affinity, mostly," Harry replied. He smiled wrily. "You know how every elf learns how to do every sort of work associated with a household, and do it well, but there's stuff each of them likes to do best. So, if at all possible, they'll assign themselves positions they're best suited to. Sometimes they'll squabble about it, but usually they work it out among themselves."
"And Jules has become your butler?" Hermione asked. "How did it happen? You two have only just bonded."
Harry told her the tale of the many Potter elves on a desperate search for mates, and that he'd tasked Jules with keeping track on these things and taking care of the housing and feeding of the families.
"So he accepted the position and bound himself for all time to your family besides," Hermione whispered, reverently. "Harry, that's an incredible gift."
"I know. God, I know. I hope I can do him and the others justice," Harry murmured. "I feel like I've been given too much."
"For ten years, you had nearly nothing," Hermione reminded him. "You're only beginning to reclaim that which should've been yours all along. It's a lot of privilege, it's true, but you already know that privilege also means responsibility, and you've done very well so far." She leaned forward and took his hand in both of hers. "You're a good person, you deserve the good things that are coming your way. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently."
"How can I make sure that it stays that way?" he asked. "I don't ever want to become as arrogant and entitled as Malfoy."
Hermione smiled softly. "As long as the happiness of your friends is so important to you, I can't see it happening, but even if you should struggle, your friends will help to keep you grounded. And you have a dad now, as well. He'll be there for you; just look what he's willing to go through to be by your side. Your happiness is important to him and he'll teach you how to grow into a good adult wizard."
"You think that'll be enough?" Harry asked reluctantly. "Because Malfoy has all of that as well, and it's not doing him much good."
"Malfoy doesn't really have friends," Hermione said. "And the acquaintances he does have, he looks down on. Also, his father treated Dobby like garbage, and I can't ever see you do that to any of your elves."
Harry relaxed a little. "I have to tell them not to let me get away with bullshite like that."
"You should," Hermione agreed, her smile brightening to this little impish thing Harry always wanted to kiss from her lips. "Speaking of house elves, Mr. Papageorgiou sent Hagrid another letter. The private investigator has begun his work, and get this, he as a house elf assistant."
"How cool is that?" Harry asked, genuinely thrilled. "Although ... how legal is the information the little guy finds? Just because he can get into nearly any house doesn't mean he should."
"It's as legal as necessary, and yes, that sounds weird. But what's legal or not is actually defined by the contract and the oath the PI swears before accepting a job. Some people don't need legality if they only want to find out whether their spouse is unfaithful, but things like trying to get a valuable magical creature killed definitely require strict boundaries so the evidence will be admissable in court. Especially if a foreign government is out to do the killing. If Mr. Papageorgiou's PI is investigating for a trial before the ICW, it's the ICW's procedure he'll follow. If it's British law, then he'll adhere to the British standards. It's a bit murky, but apparently it works."
"How do you know so much about this already?" Harry asked, reluctantly awed.
"I might have studied the job almanac Gringotts sent me during the summer," Hermione confessed. "Private investigation is a terribly interesting field of work, on par with curse breaking, spell design, and magical forensics in law enforcement, at least in my opinion. Did you know that Gringotts trains and employs witches and wizards in all of those fields, and many more besides? Apparently the work is demanding, but the benefits are said to be very good."
"Don't tell me too much about it," Harry begged, "or I won't be able to decide on a job after school. I'm already thinking about it too much."
"How is that a bad thing?" Hermione asked, quite seriously. "You're financially independent, you can study anything you like, for as long as you like. Being overqualified would hardly harm your prospects. The opposite would be much worse."
"Well, that's probably true. Still, all of those jobs probably require years and years of study."
"They do, but interestingly, all of them are overlapping to some degree. As a PI, you'll definitely need to be able to reconstruct a crime scene or find evidence like a forensic, and forensics might require you to be able to break smaller wards and curses to find tiny traces of evidence. In curse breaking, it always helps if you're able to find hints for traps and other dangerous stuff, so you'd do stuff a PI or a forensic analyst would do, and you might need to think on your feet and develop new spells to help with the work, like a spell designer does. In all jobs it's definitely useful to know how to apprehend and detain someone. And don't get me started on the medical field - Gringotts has some of the best healers in the world in its employ, both goblin and other. It must be so amazing to apprentice with those people, I can hardly stand to think about it."
Harry felt his heart beat a little faster at listening to her. "It does sounds great."
"I know, right?" Hermione's glow was back and she smiled. "I'll try to get an internship during the summer, and I think I'll start with spell design. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are so interesting, I want to use the momentum and see whether I'm at all suited to it. What would you like to do, if you could?"
"Right now? Probably curse breaking or PI work," Harry said. "But I'll have to see how things shake out with Sirius first. I don't want to leave him for too long, and it'd be early for me to have an internship in any case."
"Fourteen is the usual age, yes, and you should take the time to just be with your dad. Gringotts and its many offers will still be there after fourth year." She grinned. "That being said, there must be some perk to being a year older than the rest of our year, if I must be the old biddy at all."
"You're not an old biddy. Also, they're going to put you to work wherever you'll be interning if you keep reading books at the speed you're going," Harry warned.
"I'll have Sharptooth negotiate my contract," Hermione replied cheerfully. "He's an awfully competent manager, and I'm glad he agreed to take me on as a client ... even if he did give me a budget for buying new books. Zabini did it first, but he also recommended the International Wizarding Library And Archive Of Contemporary And Arcane Texts as a much better way to acquire reading material for short-term interests, and I can't say he's wrong about that. Membership costs two hundred galleons a year, which is muchcheaper than me buying everything that catches my eye, so I'm going to do that as long as I'm in school."
"Wait, there's a library out there whose name we have to shorten to IWLAAOCAAT?" Harry asked, flabbergasted. "Or even IWLACAT, but that's still a bloody mouthful. And do they really only have new and ancient books? What about the books in between? Like, four hundred years old? Does that already count as 'arcane'?"
"Most people just call it the IWL," Hermione laughed, visibly charmed by Harry's involuntarily comedic rambling. "And they cut out the middle part because the name was already too long. There have been several committees tasked with finding a solution over the centuries, but as you can see, the results weren't all that impressive."
"How about not impressive at all. Bloody hell, magicals are barmy," Harry muttered.
"Yes, well, you can order books through me if you like, one or even two dozen more won't raise any eyebrows."
"Thanks, I'll get back to you on that soon. Although, if you could ask for a book about crime scene management? That'd be great."
"Why one of those? Has Ron tried to break into your trunk again?" Hermione asked, amusement quickly giving way to worry.
"No, but it's stuff that could've helped prove my innocence last year, and I figure that the next occasion isn't too far off," Harry said with a little shrug that almost wasn't bitter. "Who knows what the end of this school year will bring ... there's definitely been a pattern so far."
"Hopefully not any more death eaters or basilisks," Hermione said with the air of someone who was thoroughly fed up. "I'll find you a book, quite possibly more. Since delivery is usually very swift, it shouldn't take more than a few days."
"Thanks, 'Mione, I appreciate it. Although ... won't being a read-a-lot make you even more interesting to smart guys looking for a wife?" Harry asked.
Hermione blushed. "Maybe, but the books are so worth it. And just for your information, witches can marry witches, too, in the magical world. And wizards other wizards."
"Even so, I'm not interested in marrying a bloke." Harry scrunched up his nose. "Sirius said he had boyfriends and affairs with guys, though."
"Oh, really?"
"He told me not to knock it until I've tried it, but ..." Harry shrugged and frowned at his empty plate, "Why would I do that when I already have a girlfriend?"
"Well, we might go our separate ways one day," Hermione said reasonably, but her fingers squeezed his in acknowledgement of the compliment. "You might meet a wizard you really like. Who knows?"
"Not if I can help it," Harry said, glowering at her. "I thought we decided not to talk about breaking up anymore." He tugged on her hand until she stood, walked around their table, and sat on his lap. With a huffy sigh, he hugged her tightly and buried his hot face in her neck. "Besides, boys are stinky slobs. You should see our dorm room when the house elves haven't been by, yet."
Hermione chuckled heartily and pressed a long kiss onto his hair.
oOo
The rest of Harry's day passed just as he'd planned it. There were a lot of invitations for the godbrother ceremony to complete, enough to make his hand cramp after a while, so he left the rest for Sunday. Afterwards, he had lunch with all of his friends and then met his and Hermione's transfiguration group in the classroom set aside for spell practice. The Grey Lady was supervising, silently watching out of large, dark eyes.
"Your form is still a bit off," Hermione told Goyle after his successful Switching Spell.
"It worked," the boy mumbled, withdrawing from the table. "No need to nag."
"She's not nagging, she's right. You're using too much power to get it done," Harry said. "Your movement is a bit sloppy there, when it needs to be a perfect circle."
"You don't have to listen to me, of course," Hermione added a little stiffly. "I just wanted to help."
Parvati snorted. "I won't settle for adequate if I can get an O."
"Me neither," Ernie said loyally.
Parvati did the spell with especially careful movements and managed a perfect switch. "Now we're talking. Thanks, Hermione."
Then Ernie promptly switched the knut and quill back, jumping a little with glee when the switch turned out just as well as Parvati's.
Just to prove a point, Harry went next, and prodded Hermione to also demonstrate the right wand movement. Unprompted, Neville followed, as did Seamus and Zabini.
"Come on, Goyle, don't play coy," Zabini drawled, letting Harry's quill hover over the table like some sort of cat toy. "It's all nice and well to fly your broom among the trees, but why bother. They've already figured out that you aren't exactly dumb."
"Nice try, though," Parvati said, smirking. "But we've got a Hermione, so. Nothing stays secret for long."
"And the rest of us isn't slow up here, either." Ernie tapped his temple.
Goyle's pudgy face paled a little and he pressed his lips together.
"Look," Harry said impatiently. "We don't have to become best friends or anything. But we all want good grades. Can we agree to give this one our best? If it helps, we can all pretend to have dragged you along."
"It would help," Zabini said in Goyle's stead. "Don't mind him, Slytherin is a snake pit and his family is rather minor in the grand scheme of things. Not drawing attention to himself is as good a strategy to survive as any."
"I don't want to know," Hermione muttered.
"Not a word," Goyle ground out. His wary eyes stared at the others before returning to the knut and the still hovering quill. "Haec obiecti avertas!"
The switch happened and suddenly the bronze knut was lazily hovering above all of their heads, glinting prettily in the torch light.
oOo
On their way to dinner, Professor Babbling ambushed them. Her colour was high and she seemed a little jittery.
"Can we help you, Professor?" Parvati asked.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Babbling gasped. "You're on your feet!"
"Er, yes? Shouldn't I be?" Perplexed, Harry stared at her.
"Oh my Lord, oh dear ..." She leaned against the wall and took a couple deep breaths. "I'm so glad, but we musn't tarry. Please follow me, you need to go to the infirmary." When he made no move to follow her request and instead leaned against Hermione who took his hand, she added, "Right now."
"I'd rather not," Harry argued. "I feel fine, honest. At least tell me what's wrong."
"I can't, it's a matter of privacy," Professor Babbling said. "You may come with him, Miss Granger, but the rest will have to go on to the Great Hall. You may tell them later, of course, but it has to be your decision."
"Oh, fine. It's alright," Harry said to the others. It felt oddly good to see even Goyle hesitate to leave him alone with the obviously upset woman. "Hogwarts elf, please."
Romy herself appeared and dipped a little curtsey. "How can Romy help?"
"Professor Babbling says that I have to go to the infirmary. Can you tell everyone that Hermione and I will be by later?"
"Romy will," the elf squeaked and popped off.
"Please come along now, Mr. Potter," Professor Babbling urged. "Madam Pomfrey is awaiting us."
Concerned, Harry shared a look with Hermione. He wasn't worried about an elaborate ambush, exactly, now that the elves knew where he was going. Romy was definitely smart enough to alert the Potter elves ... and yes, there already was a small, invisible hand brushing his, Betty's, if Harry wasn't mistaken.
They arrived at the infirmary soon enough, and once there the reason for Professor Babbling's agitation became clear at once.
"Is that ... my Lumos?" Harry asked, staring flabbergasted at the hovering ball of light.
"Indeed, it is," Professor Babbling said roughly. "I must apologize, Mr. Potter. I fully expected the charm to expire on Monday, Tuesday at the latest and am ashamed to say that I took full advantage of the extra light in my classroom. I remembered its existence only now because Peeves caused some mischief, broke two blackboards, the hooligan. Five whole days; you must be exhausted! A Lumos isn't meant to be used that long."
"I feel fine," Harry repeated his earlier statement. Chagrined, he noticed Madam Pomfrey leaving her office and bustling over. "Look, I'll just cancel it and you can get another lamp installed instead. Madam Pomfrey doesn't need to see me for this."
"It's not that easy," Professor Babbling admitted. From this close Harry could see the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. She took the potion Madam Pomfrey handed her without complaint, sighing with relief after gulping it down. "The students' welfare is of the utmost importance. To have you drain yourself like this ... it's not good, especially not at your age. I might face charges for that, but I've never been one not to face the consequences for my actions. The headmaster is already informed, and Poppy will evaluate your health for the legal inquiry."
"Professor ..." Hermione looked at first her and then Harry, stricken. "Harry just forgot."
"It's not a big deal," Harry hurried to assure her. "Honestly, it's not your fault. You assumed that it would go out by itself. I thought it would, too!"
"Bathsheda, come, sit down," Madam Pomfrey said soothingly, and thankfully the other woman went and sat down on a bed. Truth be told, she looked like she had far more need of the nurse's care than Harry. "There is something I need to tell you."
"Oh Lord," Professor Babbling whispered, breath hitching a little. "I've done it now."
"Nonsense, I can see that Mr. Potter is quite healthy," Madam Pomfrey tutted. She urged Professor Babbling to lie fully down and magically pulled the covers over her shivering form. "However, I received an ICW issued injunction a couple of days ago that prohibits me to get involved with Mr. Potter. His ... father has put a doctor on Mr. Potter's record, and that is who we must inform to resolve this issue. I've already Floo-called him, he should arrive shortly."
"My doctor?" Harry asked, once more feeling out of his depth.
"A Brady Williams," Madam Pomfrey informed him. "Quite young, but one of Gringotts' finest, or so I hear. Your father authorized him to do a full health check and perform any medical spells you might need or want going forward." Her perpetually pursed lips twitched in a sly little smile. "Knowing your propensity for getting in trouble, I can't say I disapprove."
"When will he be here?" Harry asked, unable to hide his excitement.
"Well, he said he had to finish a consultation first, but it shouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes."
Hermione sat on the bed across from Professor Babbling, whose eyes were slowly slipping shut. "Then we wait."
"Are you comfortable with that, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked, eyebrow raised. "Patient confidentiality is absolute, you alone decide who gets to know what, except, of course, your father. Merlin, I really have to get used to that. Was a terrible surprise, although Sirius Black used to be such a bright boy, so maybe I shouldn't have been." She eyed Professor Babbling and sighed. "She'd done for, poor thing. Well, there's nothing for it ..." She drew her wand and performed a simple scanning spell on her.
Fascinated, Harry and Hermione both watched her work and mutter. Thankfully, their Ancient Runes professor was only suffering a mild form of shock and exhaustion, something that a couple of potions and a good sleep would be able to cure.
"Ah, there they are," the matron declared and a second later the doors to the infirmary opened.
Dumbledore strode in dressed to the nines in a yellow and bright green checkered robe that was adorned with tiny glittering gemstones of every colour imaginable. He looked like a disco ball come to life, so much so that both Harry and Hermione shared an incredulous look.
Behind him followed Healer Williams, whose dark blue, smartly cut robes seemed exceedingly sensible and soothing in comparison.
Smiling jovially, the man bowed and, before Dumbledore could perform the introduction, said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. I'm Healer Brady Williams, your doctor of record going forward. At your service. I heard there was some incident?"
"My dear, you should leave now," Dumbledore said to Hermione, all affability and grandfatherly charm. "This consultation is private."
"She can stay," Harry said. "I already told Madam Pomfrey that it's been a misunderstanding. The professor didn't do anything wrong."
"We still have to check up on you," Williams said kindly. "It's standard procedure, and I am glad that your professor adhered to the rules and immediately called for assistance. Bear with us, please."
"Yes, sir," Harry sighed. "But Hermione still stays."
"That's your decision," Williams agreed. "Now, Headmaster, I'd ask you to respect my patient's privacy."
"You just told Miss Granger that this matter needs to be seen through, quite rightly so. Surely I need to know what happened so future such incidents may be avoided."
"You're entitled to the results, sir, but not to witnessing the exam, especially since you haven't been invited to do so. Please leave the hospital wing, I'll send you my findings promptly."
How Brady could be so polite in the face of Dumbledore's almost palpable curiosity that was quickly turning into annoyance, Harry didn't know, but he was glad. Even if he didn't have to get undressed for a magical scan, he'd have still felt uncomfortably exposed in his presence.
"Come, Albus, you know how these things are done. Shoo, you can have your grand moment when it is time to inform the authorities." Firmly, Madam Pomfrey guided Dumbledore out of the infirmary and closed the door. A sharp flash sealed it with magic. "Mr. Potter, I'll be in my office. Please call me when you're done so I can have Healer Williams escorted to the Floo."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "Thank you."
"Be good," she warned.
As soon as she was gone, and a strong privacy barrier was up, Harry walked over to the man and threw himself into a tight embrace. "It's really good to see you," he murmured. "Thank god Sirius thinks about this stuff."
Williams laughed and returned the hug. "I know, he's a force of nature. And he's got nothing on that lawyer of his! He's sad that he can't be here, of course, but he's glad that at least one of us is free to check up on you in person now."
After a minute of just enjoying the closeness of a trusted person, Harry remembered Hermione's presence and reached out for her to join him. "That's Hermione, my girlfriend. Hermione, this is Healer Williams. He's the one I've been talking to since the summer, and he's also been teaching me lots of cool stuff."
"Stuff we probably shouldn't talk about right now," Williams admonished them, though not without some wistfulness. Bowing to Hermione, he said, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger."
Hermione blushed and curtsied. "Likewise, Healer Williams."
"Can we get this exam out of the way?" Harry asked. "My professor's afraid that I burned myself out using a Lumos of all things and I really don't want to see her fired over this."
"That Lumos there, the one over our heads?" Brady asked wrily and pointed at the glowing ball hovering under the ceiling. "Gee, I don't know what gave her the idea."
"I asked if I should put it out after class on Monday. She said no. It was still there on Thursday, so I thought she liked having the light there and didn't say anything," Harry pouted. "How was I supposed to know that I need to watch out for this stuff?"
"Now you know," the healer replied. "And it'd be good to curb your more powerful displays a little from now on. Your headmaster seemed very interested on the way down here, not even a bloody nose could keep him from trying to look into my mind."
Dobby made himself visible by Harry's shins and bristled. "No one be looking into Harry Potter sir's friends' minds! Dobby not be having scruples in letting Old Whiskers run into more doors!"
"Doors, walls, whatever is handy," Hermione huffed. Dobby nodded and vanished again. "The exam?"
"Right." Healer Williams laughed a little. "You really are quite bossy. It's unexpectedly charming."
"Harry James! I can't believe you said that to him!" Hermione cried, and Harry flushed beet red.
"Well, you are!" he defended himself.
While they argued, Williams cast the medical scanning charm on Harry. The sudden tingle caused Harry to yelp in surprise.
"All done," Williams said, chuckling. "And there's no reason to worry. Your magical core is unfractured, and your reserves are robust. Your teacher will get off with a warning - and let it be a warning to you too, Harry. It's not only your wand holding you back, the want for secrecy must also be present in your mind."
"That means he's unusually powerful, doesn't it?" Hermione asked quietly, argument forgotten. "More powerful than even I thought, and I had an idea after he did the Patronus Charm like it was nothing."
"He's quite the little powerhouse," Williams admitted, absently snatching the report the spell had created for him out of the air. "But Harry's still only thirteen and has a lot of growing to do yet. There's no telling in what direction that growth will go. It might expand in a general sense, or it might deepen the abilities and affinities he already has. What I do know, now, is that you're almost up to eating enough to sustain you, and that your diet largely provides you with the nutrients you need."
"Only largely?" Harry asked, frowning. "I eat all the vegetables the elves give me, and I always try to finish what's on my plate."
"Oh, I know," Williams grinned. "But you also like to indulge your sweet tooth, and I'd like you to slow down a little on that front. Too much sugar is bad even for magicals, because it robs you of the nutrients you need to keep your body, and therefore your magic, healthy. Does half desserts sound fair? You may eat more of the good food to make up for it, of course. Going hungry is out of the question."
"Must I?" Harry groaned. "Dobby's desserts are so good."
"I know," his friend retorted dryly. "I eat half desserts, too. And your father eats none while he's receiving treatment. He does it to recover faster, so be strong. If he can do it, you can, too."
"Fine." Harry knew he was pouting, and he didn't care. "Dobby, you know what to do, right?"
"Dobby does," the reappearing elf squeaked, ears drooping a little. "Dobby be knowing how much Harry Potter sir be liking sweets. Dobby be finding other delicious puddings for Harry Potter sir to try!"
"I'll cut back, too, so you won't have to suffer alone," Hermione offered. "My parents didn't want me to eat so much sweet stuff anyway, even after they learned that my teeth will never rot thanks to magic. They'll be relieved."
"You're a good friend, Miss Granger," Williams said. "Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"
Hermione looked meaningfully at Harry and, when he blankly looked back, said, "What about the protection spell against pregnancy and assault? Harry never got the permission slip, and Madam Pomfrey didn't speak to him about it either once school started."
"Right, that spell." Harry huffed. "Can you cast it on me?"
"Not the Hogwarts specific spell. I'll have Madam Pomfrey teach it to me. In the meantime, I can cast another protective ward on you that is impossible to circumvent by non-parselmouths," Williams offered. "Your father authorized me to cast it, if you want it. You just need to say the word."
"Of course I want it," Harry said quickly. "And I'd like to learn it, too, in case something happens. And ..." He glanced at Hermione. "And if it's safe, can Hermione get it, too? Er, only if she wants it, of course."
"I want," she said quickly. "Thank you, Harry."
Williams nodded. "Certainly. Please get me the written permission from your parents, so I'll have it on file if something comes up."
"What does it cost? I should probably prepare them if the fee's on the higher side," Hermione said, wringing her hands. "I'd pay for it myself, but my money's in a trust."
"Don't worry about it," Williams said calmly. "The spell is done quickly enough and not magically expensive to me since it'll be powered by your own core." He looked meaningfully at Harry. "I'd rather not teach you the counter spell at this moment, even if you could probably shred the ward when you're determined to end harmful spells on her."
"That's fine! I don't want children until after I've started a career," Hermione said quickly.
Flustered, Harry quickly agreed. "Should that ever happen, I'll recast it immediately," he promised, voice breaking a little. He winced. "Is it very hard to learn?"
"It's involved and requires intent, but it isn't hard for a parselmouth," Williams replied. "First, let me show you what it looks like ..." He cast a revealing charm on himself and pointed out a strand of lovely amber light. "That's the ward. For a male, it'll render any spent sperm infertile, while it'll make a witch's eggs sterile during consensual relations. Any other function is not impacted, ensuring a normal hormonal cycle in both men and women. The protective aspect is rather more vicious and based on a three point warning matrix. The first offence will be punished by a sharp magical push, the second by crippling force, and the third may be lethal if the perpetrator is especially determined ... or unlucky."
"Sounds too good to be true," Hermione sighed. "The Hogwarts spell is a hundred years old; I'm not sure how invasive it actually is in that body balance way. And it also only protects against assault at Hogwarts, which is well enough, but not perfect."
"I'll find out how it works," Williams assured her, ending the revealing spell with nothing more than a little wave of his wand, "and if it's less effective than the parselward, I can remove it without issue." He turned to Harry. "I'll cast your ward right now and come back soon for Miss Granger's treatment. Let's say in about two weeks?"
"We could make it the Hogsmeade weekend and meet in the village," Harry offered. "It'd be nice to hang out for a bit, maybe drink a butterbeer or something."
Hermione nodded her agreement.
Williams seemingly flicked a notebook out of his robe sleeve and consulted it. "That's the 31st, isn't it? I should be free then." He made a note and grinned. "It's a date. Let me know the time and the place."
"Will do," Harry said gratefully.
"Let's cast the ward, then. This is the wand movement ..." Williams demonstrated and patiently allowed Harry to copy him a couple of times. "And the words are facias familiarem tueri generationis."
Harry scoffed. "Really?"
"What did he say?" Hermione asked. "The hissing sounded dangerous."
"Protect against intimate harm and reproduction," Harry said. "How can that be a spell?"
Shrugging, Williams replied, "Parselmouths don't need Latin. The words are simple, but the meaning behind them, or rather, the intent, combined with the wand movement, will bring about the desired result. Look."
Slowly, Williams did the wand movements, which truly were far more intricate than the words, and that same, soft amber light left his wand and enveloped Harry in a slow swirl.
"I can feel it," Harry gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "And it's not really pleasant."
"Spell hooks rarely are," Williams admitted. "It's our innate magic's way of telling us that something foreign has attached itself to us. In this case, it's benign, but of course there are others that aren't."
"During training, Harry told me that he can feel magical pressure when people cast," Hermione piped up. "Maybe that's why he feels this so strongly."
"That could well be it," Williams agreed, his look promising a more in-depth conversation about it later. "Some people just are born like this, and in Harry's case it's a nice advantage to have."
Harry elbowed Hermione in the side. "Stop blurting out my secrets."
"He's your doctor, and you clearly trust him," she returned and poked him back. "Also, it's insanely interesting, and you already know that I'm trying to get that same feeling for magic."
"You're training yourself?" Williams' eyebrows rose. "How's it going?"
"Glacially slowly, but I think I'm getting better," Hermione said. "Before Harry mentioned it, I never even thought about it. It was like being blind on the magical eye, so to speak."
"And she can't stand missing out," Harry finished for her. He grinned at her huff. "It's true, don't deny it."
Hermione smiled shyly. "It's very true, unfortunately."
"If you think you're getting somewhere, by all means keep training that ability," Williams encouraged them. "Harry, I'll send you the instructions for the spell, and we can go over it when we see each other again. Please don't try it out on yourself or others until then."
"No, of course not."
"Good. I'll go see Madam Pomfrey now, get your patient file and shamelessly gossip about you with her." Williams smirked. "I'm prepared to have a lot of fun."
"Ugh, if you say so. We'll be going to dinner." Harry hesitated for a second, but then he darted forward and hugged the man again. "Give one to Sirius, if that's not too weird. I miss him."
"He misses you too," Williams murmured, sliding a hand around Harry's nape and squeezing gently. "Take good care of yourself, and of each other. We'll talk soon."
Harry let go with a definite sense of loss and waited until the healer had vanished inside Madam Pomfrey's office.
"You like him a lot," Hermione said softly. "He is good to you? As your doctor?"
"We're ... I think we're friends," Harry admitted. "He was there when all that stuff with Sirius started, and he's a really good listener, and he's a parselmouth. And he also teaches me lots of stuff that's good to know even when he's not supposed to do that."
"Oh, okay." Hermione bit her lip. "He seems like a great person. And he must be, if your ... your dad trusts him with your health and education."
"Gringotts trusts him, too," Harry said. "He works for the goblins, but I probably shouldn't tell you that whole story yet."
"But one day you will," she said, voice soft and only lilting a little in inquiry.
"As soon as it's safe," Harry promised. He took both of her hands and stepped close to her. "You honestly know too much already. I'm worried that Dumbledore will try to influence you somehow. Soon, I mean."
"He probably will," Hermione admitted, "but with the house elves on our side, it'll be fine."
"We hope," Harry muttered.
"Yes, we do. But I also know." For a long moment, Hermione looked right into his eyes, just observing his face. "Even if Dumbledore tries to somehow harm you, you've got me, and your house elves, and Sirius Black. You're not alone anymore."
Harry swallowed and glanced down at their linked hands. "It's very strange. But ..." He looked back up, taking in her lovely face and even lovelier eyes. "But it's also ... beautiful, to have that. I didn't know what it would be like, and ... and it's ..."
"Overwhelming?" she softly helped him along, tracing the back of his hands with her thumbs. "Yes. Absolutely. Maybe it's weird to say it, but ... hold on to the feeling. Even if it makes you feel weak, loving people is such a joy."
"When they deserve it," Harry whispered. He closed his eyes and let his forehead sink against Hermione's shoulder. It still hurt to think about all the instances of his supposed family rejecting him.
"Your new dad does," Hermione whispered back. "As do all your elves. And Healer Williams probably too, the way you behaved around each other."
But none more than you, Harry thought, breath catching in his chest. He squeezed his burning eyes shut and concentrated on not overflowing with this strange, hot feeling inside of his suddenly too small body.
"Harry," Hermione hummed in response. She gently let go of his hands and pulled him into the best hug Harry had ever had.
He was completely enfolded in her, the rising swell of feeling bleeding into her warmth as he closed his arms around her slender, strong body in return. Her hair smelled sweetly like girl, like her, but also like magic, which had to be the best thing in the world.
"You're so warm," she murmured, stroking over his back and hair.
"And you're everywhere," he mumbled into her neck. "You're so ..."
Lovely. Fantastic.
Mine.
A loud bang broke the spell and they jumped apart like a couple of frightened cats.
"I'll kill him!" Healer Williams declared, rounding on Harry.
"You will not!" Hermione shouted, pushing Harry behind her and pointing her wand right at Williams' face.
That brought the man up short, and he paled. "Lord, no, not Harry. Dumbledore!"
Madam Pomfrey, who had followed, pressed a potion phial into his hand. "Drink another one, my boy, you obviously need it."
"What has the headmaster done now?" Hermione demanded as Williams tossed the potion back.
"He wasn't vaccinated! Against anything!" Williams ran both hands through his hair and clenched his teeth. "The goblins remedied that during the summer, but we couldn't get his files from Hogwarts until now. When Harry's healer couldn't find antibodies against all the common magical maladies, she gave Dumbledore as Harry's magical guardian the benefit of the doubt. There are individuals who can't build up an immunity after vaccination, and, well, there's the Harry Potter factor to consider."
"I told you," Hermione muttered under her breath.
"I never got a single shot before last summer," Harry said, looking apologetically at Madam Pomfrey. "And you never talked to me about it, either, ma'am."
"I know, lad, I know." Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Your then magical guardian told me that you'd been checked over before coming to Hogwarts, and that there was a trustworthy doctor tasked with your care. The same went for the injuries you sustained while at school." Turning to Williams, she said, "I didn't approve, but Albus made it clear that Mr. Potter would receive all the necessary care during the holidays."
"Which he didn't," Hermione said angrily. "I can't believe it. Harry could've been crippled!"
"I took great care to make sure that didn't happen," Madam Pomfrey said. "I may not be a fully trained mediwitch, but I know my way around accident prone children."
"I'm not angry with you, Madam Pomfrey," Williams said with some difficulty. "I just can't believe what that man has been allowed to get away with. Damnit, your potions aren't helping me calm down at all."
"Because you're secretly a dragon inside, Healer Williams. Such rage is bad for your everything, young man," Madam Pomfrey clucked. "Let us be satisfied that Mr. Potter is up to date on all his immunisations now and that no more shenanigans will be allowed to happen."
Williams took a few deep breaths. "Yes, no more shenanigans. I'll have to inform ... the others. They'll be livid."
"Will it at least help Mr. Black's trial?" Hermione asked, practical as ever.
"Yes, of course, but that's hardly a comfort. I'd rather have had Harry fully prepared for the wizarding world instead of this ... clusterfuck. He could have contracted dragon pox in Diagon Alley and died before he ever came here, for fuck's sake!" Williams hissed another sharp expletive in parseltongue that had Harry blushing to the roots of his hair.
"Healer Williams!" Madam Pomfrey scolded. "Mind your language!"
"Not on my account," Hermione muttered.
"Miss Granger, you shouldn't encourage him," the nurse huffed. "It's bad enough when a wizard does it, but I won't abide a young witch lowering herself to that level."
"That's incredibly sexist, Madam," Williams informed her, to Harry's amazement and Hermione smug vindication. "As it happens, cursing up a blue streak can be very stress-relieving. Miss Granger, I herewith prescribe you a healthy dose of cursing for the whole length of the situation we find ourselves in."
"Healer Williams!" Madam Pomfrey protested.
"Make that two doses," Williams said dryly. "Harry, the same goes for you. Up the dose as required."
Hermione giggled appreciatively. "We will, Healer Williams."
"That's enough of that now," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "If you're quite finished corrupting your patient, I'll ask that you to vacate the premises now."
"Are we done, Harry, or are there more things we need to discuss?"
"Not that I can think of. Only ... if you're my doctor from now on, does that mean you'll come to my Quidditch games?"
Williams' pinched expression softened and he managed a smile. "You know what? It does."
Harry couldn't help his answering smile, and the intense warmth from earlier was back, threatening to shine out of his eyes. "Great!"
"Maybe you can install some sense into that boy," Madam Pomfrey snarked, "because I certainly wasn't able to. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."
"Oh, you do not," Williams retorted, and the two medical professionals stared at each other until Madam Pomfrey admitted defeat.
"Fine, I do not. But that doesn't mean I have to like patching up students after hairbrained schemes of utter stupidity and thoughtlessness."
"Your worst offender has been taken off your hands now," Williams told her, patting her shoulder. "You're welcome."
Madam Pomfrey's squinting eyes and pursed lips made it very clear that she didn't think Healer Williams at all clever or funny. In that moment, she remarkably resembled Professor McGonagall when she was displeased.
"Er, dinner's in full swing now and we'd like to go eat ... if that's alright with you," Harry said.
"Yes, go, Mr. Potter. I'll take this one up to the headmaster's office," Madam Pomfrey grumbled.
"I'll see you soon, Harry," Williams said, his wave and smile including Hermione, even if his words did not.
"Bye, sir!"
Eagerly, Harry and Hermione left the hospital wing and marched right to the Great Hall, where they found seats with the seventh years closest to the head table as the benches were full everywhere else. This proved fortuitous because the news hadn't made the rounds yet and they could chat normally with Percy and his year mates. Oliver Wood made a lot of noise about the upcoming Quidditch match on November 6th, ranting bitterly that the dementors were ruining his final year at Hogwarts as team captain.
"It's not too much to ask to win the cup once, is it?" he moaned. "Just once! We have a good team. Great, even!"
"Thank you, Olli!" the three chaser girls sing-songed, while Fred and George formed hearts with their hands.
"It must be possible to get one over Ravenclaw! Their seeker is new, and Hufflepuff's thinking about letting Diggory have a go, as well!"
"I won't insult you by saying that Quidditch is just a game," Hermione began, which was promptly followed up by groans, "but I think that a mere four games all year isn't enough at all to establish a winner. Why not make it twice as many games, with chances for re-matches, at least? Also, second string, which you now have, should get a chance to play, not only to hone their skills but to experience the real atmosphere, instead of only getting to play when winning is all but impossible anyway. Why, with as many enthusiasts as this school has, Hogwarts could even establish a two-league-system, having teams fight for the top spots throughout the years. Also, if we added inter-house teams, that would really mix up things."
"Someone has put a lot of thought into this," Wood said, marvelling openly at Hermione. "Granger, where was this enthusiasm two years ago?"
"I was busy not getting beaten into a bloody pulp by a troll, or remaining a decorative ornament courtesy of Hogwarts' resident nightmare basilisk," she replied primly. "However, this dumb game has so many of you in a tizzy, it's a shame that not more has been done with it. Having those people on the pitch instead of inside the castle would dramatically cut down on the bullshite that's going on."
Harry grinned into his parsnip puree. "She's not wrong. We should petition for more matches, Wood. Second string is there for a reason; if people have to study, others can step in."
"Seconded," Fred and George cried across the table, and from there Hermione's idea quickly gained traction.
"That should keep them and Dumbledore busy for a while," Hermione murmured. "It might also get the dementors away from Hogwarts sooner when the whole school is screaming for time on the pitch."
"Maybe, if we're lucky," Harry replied. "The Ministry's still not doing anything, and according to the Prophet, they're not going to."
"I have high hopes that the ICW will make the Minister call them off soon," she confessed. "After approving a doctor for you, it seems likely, doesn't it?"
Harry found that he shared Hermione's hopes and resolved to ask about it the next chance he got.
The rest of dinner passed more or less in silence. Aside from Quidditch, the seventh years had a range of interesting topics to discuss, and Hermione took shameless advantage to snoop further into the Hogwarts syllabus and pick up useful tips for her own studies.
Harry was just content to eat his food and recover his equilibrium after Brady's surprise visit.
Later, in the dorm, the other boys quietly enquired after Harry and were satisfied with the short explanation he gave them. Mostly they were relieved that the whole thing hadn't been as worrisome as Professor Babbling had made it seem.
"What's with Ron? Is he already in bed?" Harry asked, pointing at the closed bed hangings.
"Yeah, said he needs to study." Dean's face was sceptical. "Personally, I think he's moping because Ginny has needled him about her place on the Quidditch team."
"That league thing is a good idea," Seamus said. "I hope they'll get it going soon. Maybe even next year."
Neville sighed; he was even less interested in the sport than Hermione, and had the matching ability to ignore everything to do with it. "I'd much rather have some other sport to try, but the article about that in the Herald got the least reactions."
"There'll be others," Harry consoled him. "Even if we get it started by ourselves. It's not like the professors can forbid us to play footie on the grounds or something. It'd just be nicer with a club and someone who knows what we're about."
"At least our little footie league has gained enough teams for a full year of games. It'll be fun," Seamus said. "And we're all mixed, so we're way ahead of Hermione's plans."
"Well, Madam Hooch isn't teaching anyone about Quidditch," Dean said as he put on his pyjamas. "She just referees the matches. It's all on the captains so I'd say we're already pretty much on our own."
"Seems crazy, considering how hard and fast those bludgers are going," Neville replied with a shudder. "No, thanks."
Harry really couldn't fault him for his opinion and used the small lull in conversation to excuse himself to the bathroom for his twice-daily personal hygiene charms, the loo, and some cold water to the face for that feeling of refreshment right before bed.
Back in the dorm, the others were already settled in, all of the hangings shut. He still got sleepy wishes for a goodnight and returned them quietly.
Finally, he was sliding under the crisp, clean comforter - and jumped a little when something fluttery touched his calf.
"Yikes!" he cried, ripping away the comforter. "Blue!"
"Hello, Harry," the snakeling replied. "I am back."
Trembling a little, Harry picked him up and pressed the small body to his chest. "You scared me. I could've kicked you."
"I wanted to surprise you." Blue rose and pushed his small head against Harry's temple, flicking the skin with his tongue. "I'm hungry, Harry."
"Of course you are, and you're cold, too. Here you go." Harry first cast a warming charm on the snakeling and then called forth his Patronus. It was tiny, barely larger than Blue, and pranced over his shins and around the bed with proudly displayed antlers. "I think he means to make you work for it," Harry laughed.
"Perfect, Harry," Blue hissed and darted after the miniature stag.
Harry watched them play, smiling faintly whenever Blue managed to touch the stag and absorb a bit of its magic. The tiny pull on his core was adorable, especially since Blue was trying to be careful with his bites.
At last, the snakeling slowed down, its middle a bit distended and the orange eyes glowing from the inside out.