Disclaimer: Don't let her get disgruntled, you wouldn't like her when she's disgruntled.
*****
Luna adjusted the light so that it bore down on her unfortunate prisoner. With a look of barely repressed fury on her face, she stalked closer and leaned across the table to let her target experience the full weight of her glare.
"Confess!" she said sharply. "We know everything you know and it'll only go harder on you if you don't talk."
"Luna, calm down. Can't you see you're scaring our guest," her father chided as he put a glass of water on the table. "Have something to drink," he addressed the prisoner. "I'm sorry about my daughter's behavior, but she's crazy. You really should talk," he confided. "I don't know what she's liable to do if she gets all worked up."
"That's it," Luna shouted. "I've had it." She picked up a chair and made to brain their prisoner with it.
"You mustn't," her father said in alarm. He rushed across the room and attempted to wrestle the chair away from his daughter. "I don't know how long I can hold her off," he said desperately. "Say something, anything, so I can calm her down."
"Croak," the frog offered nervously.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione skipped happily down to breakfast the next morning and took her seat at the table across from her parents who'd apparently decided to continue sitting side by side.
"Where's Harry?" Anne asked.
"I thought it best to let him sleep in." Hermione shot a grateful look to the maid as her breakfast was put on the table.
"How come he gets to sleep in?" Philip grumbled to his wife.
"He's on holiday and not married to me," Anne replied cheerfully. "Aside from that, no one made you get up."
"What was it you did this morning then?"
"I just provided a bit of encouragement," Anne said innocently. She turned to her daughter. "Do you have any plans for today, darling?"
Hermione's eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Just one, mum." She turned to her father, doing her best to look both cute and innocent.
"Yes?" He prompted wearily. Years of parenthood making him all but immune to the girl's attempts to manipulate him in that fashion.
"Daddy," Hermione began. She twirled her hair around her fingers and batted her eyes as cutely as she could manage.
"Yes, what is it, darling?" He said in a tone that conveyed his real meaning. 'What in god's name do you want?'
"Is it alright if I store Harry's motorbikes with your cars?" she asked sweetly. "He doesn't have any place to put them at the moment and it would be a shame if they were damaged due to improper storage."
"Of course it is, darling." He grinned, he hadn't known the boy was a petrolhead. He'd have to remember to have a look to see if the boy had anything interesting. Likely not, but who knew, he might have an old Commando or one of the other classic British bikes.
"May I also use your shop to perform maintenance on them?" Hermione asked sweetly. "And to assemble the ones we haven't got to yet?"
"Of course you may, darling." He was really going to have to have a word with his daughter's friend, hopefully the boy would be willing to share his secrets. The man regarded his wife out of the corner of his eye wondering if he could use the boy's methods to get his wife to perform maintenance on his collection.
"Was that all, darling?" Anne asked with a smirk to inform her husband that she'd caught his stray thought.
"I'd also like to spend some time with you, mum," Hermione added with a blush. "There are some things I'd like to ask you."
"Of course, darling," Anne agreed. "I wasn't planning on going out today so anytime that's convenient for you."
"Thank you, mum. Later will be convenient for me as well." She turned back to her father. "What's your first impression of Harry, Daddy?"
"Seems like a well brought up young man," he said smoothly, mindful of the fact that one misstep would cause his daughter to further torment the poor boy.
"Do you think he'd like to learn polo?" she asked shyly.
"I'll be sure to ask him later," her father promised.
"Thank you, daddy." She smiled, pleased that her father seemed to approve of her best friend and confident that it was at least partly due to the work she'd done to get him ready. Looked like the highly detailed plan she'd made had been well worth the time it had taken her think it up and execute it. She rewarded herself with an extra rasher of bacon as she enjoyed the warm glow of success and a job well done.
IIIIIIIIII
Luna groaned in exhausted frustration as she flopped into her favorite chair, the green one with the automatic foot massager and the pez dispenser.
"Sixteen hours," she mumbled. "Sixteen hours! And he refuses to crack no matter what we throw at him."
"We'll have everything when he does," her father said confidently. "The lower levels don't get the kind of training needed to withstand an interrogation like that."
"What if . . ." Luna trailed off.
"What is it?"
"What if it really is just a frog?" Luna said unsurely. "What if he hasn't cracked because there's nothing to crack and he's exactly what he appears to be?"
"Then god help us, god help us all. Because if they're good enough to disguise a frog as one of their best agents disguised as a frog, then they can disguise anything as anything and we can't trust anything. Not even each other." He shot a suspicious look at his daughter only to receive a matching look of suspicion in return. "Quick, tell me something only you would know."
"Nice try," she growled. "That's exactly the sort of thing a spy would ask. Don't think I'm not on to you."
"You're right," he admitted, turning his suspicious glare from her to the nearest mirror. "And to think, I almost had myself fooled."
"Tell me something only I would know to prove you are who you say you are," Luna demanded in a menacing growl.
"If it's something only you would know then of course I wouldn't know it because if I did then it wouldn't be something only you could know," he said, still glaring suspiciously at himself in the mirror.
"Unless you'd been spying on me and I just thought it was something only I would know," Luna pointed out reasonably.
"Which would have outed me as a spy if I answered correctly," he said in realization. "Brilliant, as always."
"Thank you, father." Luna's look of suspicion deepened considerably. If that is indeed your real name."
"But I've just proved I wasn't a spy because I spy would have known the answer . . . so that must mean." His suspicious glare returned to his daughter. "Clever, very clever. And to think you almost had me fooled."
"Au contrary, it was I that almost had almost had myself fooled but in the end, only a fool can fool a fool so the real fool is the fool which is just dirty pool so logically the fool in need is a fool indeed!" Luna declared. "The fooled fool is the fool which fooled the fool so we can therefore deduce that the fool is the spy for who but a spy would seek to fool and who but a fool would fool a fool and so the fool is none other than-"
IIIIIIIIII
Phil was the only person still at the table when Harry made his way down stairs that morning, his wife and daughter having long since deserted him in favor of things he was better off knowing nothing about.
"Harry, a word." Phil motioned for the boy to join him.
"What is it, sir?" Harry asked.
"How did you get my daughter to assemble and maintain your motorbike collection?" Philip asked intently, hoping that he could he use the same method to convince his wife to do the same? His daughter had never shown the slightest interest in mechanical things before, which offered a shred of hope that such a thing might be possible.
"Hermione and Luna thought that I might wish to have them," Harry explained. "They belonged to my godfather," Harry added. "Though with the way they play with them it's more along the lines of keeping their toys cleaned and polished for when they want to try out a new enchantment. Most of which seem to explode."
"Thank you, Harry."
"No problem, sir." Harry looked around. "Is Hermione up yet?"
"Up and eaten. She's with her mother right now, they're having a mysterious conversation about feminine mysteries." He waved to the staff to prepare the boy's breakfast. "You may not see her for a few hours."
"Okay," Harry agreed. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Um, sir?"
"What is it, Harry?" Phil replied.
"I was just wondering . . ." Harry trailed off.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Why did you forbid Hermione to use magic to fix her teeth?"
"She told you that?" he sighed. This again?
"Yes, sir."
"We didn't forbid her, we told her that we wanted to research magical healing before we made a decision. You may not have noticed, but my daughter tends to put a lot of faith in books. My wife and I would rather get a look at the effects of magical healing before we commit to anything involving our only child's health. Make sense?"
"Perfect sense, sir," Harry agreed. He made a mental note to check up on the man's worries, privately admitting that he had a point. It would be just like magicals to miss some horrific long term side effects.
"Now that I've answered your question, do you mind if I ask one of my own?"
"What would you like to know, sir?"
"Tell me, Harry, what do you know about polo?"
"It's got something to do with horses," Harry said hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"And that's all," Harry confessed.
"How would you like to learn?" Phil asked eagerly.
"Sure," Harry agreed. It would give him an excuse to get away from Hermione when she was in full study mode after all.
"Excellent," Phil cheered. "Now, the first thing you need to know is . . ."
Phil spent an enjoyable morning teaching the attentive boy almost everything he'd need to know to get started on the polo field later, well, he did until his daughter arrived to assert her claim on his new polo partner.
"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, bursting with enthusiasm. "We've still got a bunch more books to read." She announced as she dragged the boy out of the room and in the direction of the library.
IIIIIIIIII
Anne strolled into her husband's office with a devilish grin on her face. "You'll never guess what I just found out."
"The joys of being a productive member of society?" He asked snidely. "The fact that your deeds matter more than those of some long dead ancestor?"
"Hold that thought," she said quickly. "We can get to the fun stuff later."
"That good huh?" Phil rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "What is it?"
"The staff has decided that they need to protect Hermione's virtue from Harry's despicable intentions," she giggled.
"Exactly how do they know that Harry had despicable intentions towards our daughter?" Phil asked with an amused grin.
"He's a teenaged boy and she is a teenaged girl."
"Point," he agreed. "A very good point in fact. As a rule, their intentions are usually somewhat less than pure at that age aren't they-"
"Like yours are any purer at your age," Anne interjected.
"On the other hand," he continued, ignoring his wife's slanderous accusation. "I'm not sure that Hermione has realized that he is a boy or that romance exists as anything more than an abstract to be read about."
"She is a bit focused on her studies."
"And then there's the fact that they've been friends since their first year," Phil pointed out. "She probably still sees him as a scruffy-"
"Let's stop there," Anne suggested. "We wouldn't want to get into the habit of calling him that, would we."
Phil grinned widely. "Definitely not after the way Hermione reacted to my last off handed comment," he agreed.
"Just the sort of thing I'd have expected to hear from a capitalist pig who made his living off the sweat of the masses," she sneered.
"I'll have a word with the staff later," he promised. The expression on his face turned sinister. "Hah. As if a blue blood like you knows anything about the working class."
IIIIIIIIII
The patriarch of the tiny Lovegood clan walked into the interrogation room and flopped down on the chair. With a sigh, the man favored the prisoner with a look that mixed sympathy and resigned exasperation just as page seventy five of the manual they'd dug up from the deepest part of the Lovegood library had advised. It was quite fortunate that they'd had an ancestor that had been employed, for a time, with the Keystone police department and even more fortunate that he had written a manual containing everything he had learned during his years on the force.
"She's a good girl," he said softly. "Just a bit high strung." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a large plump cricket. "I don't think she'd do anything to hurt you . . . well, not unless she got disgruntled anyway." He absently popped the cricket into his mouth and began chewing. "Then she's liable to anything." He pulled another cricket out of his pocket. "The thing is . . . oh, how rude of me. Would you like one?"
"Croak." The entirety of the frog's attention was focused on the struggling insect in the disturbed man's hand.
"Here you go then." He held out the cricket, allowing the amphibian to gobble it down. "As I was saying-"
"Father!" Luna's voice carried into the room. "Where's my dinner?! You know how I get when I haven't had my dinner! In case you've forgotten, it's disgruntled! Disgruntled is how I get! You know what happens when I get disgruntled! There's no telling what I'll do! Things that I would never normally dream of doing because they're too horrible to contemplate, that's what! All I need now is a suitable target, you wouldn't happen to know where our prisoner is, would you? Because he'd make the sort of target that I would find suitable on which to vent my frustrations in my current state of disgruntlement!You'd better not be trying to hide him from me!"
"Oh dear," he said in alarm. "She's getting disgruntled, I only hope that I haven't left things too long. But if I have and she doesn't calm down soon." He shuddered in fear. "Please, just tell me something, anything I can use to distract her."
"Croak."
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione dragged her best friend into the library and loaded his arms with what she considered a minimum amount of books to have at hand for a bit of light reading. The table beside her favorite chair didn't so much as creak under the combined weight of the tomes having been specially constructed for the purpose after its predecessor had begun to show signs of wear.
"There we go. That should last us for a couple hours anyway," Hermione said in a tone of deep satisfaction.
The librarian smiled as her young charge plopped into her favorite chair. "I took the liberty of getting another chair for young Mr. Potter," Ms. Jane said loudly. "That way you two won't be forced to use the same one like you were yesterday."
"We don't mind," Hermione said obliviously. "But thank you for the thought, Ms Jane."
Harry gave a helpless shrug in reply to the look of deep suspicion and disapproval on the woman's face at their seating arrangement. Hermione scooted to one side of the chair to make room and settled her legs on his lap after he sat down. It didn't take long before Harry had immersed himself in a rather fascinating book on the defensive use of common house hold charms. He was ashamed to admit that he'd never considered how lethal a charm to boil water could be if properly targeted. Voldemort and his merry band of catamites and killers were going to be in for a surprise the next time he had the misfortune of running into them.
"Sorry to disturb the two of you," Phil said, causing the two teens to jump at the sudden interruption. "But I was wondering if I couldn't have a bit of time with my daughter."
"What is it, Daddy?" Hermione asked.
"I've got a surprise for you," Phil said mysteriously. "Harry?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I was planning on going to the stables after lunch and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?"
"I'd be delighted to, sir," Harry agreed.
"Excellent." He smiled. "And please, do call me Phil." He placed a fatherly arm around his daughter's shoulders and gently led her out of the room.
Hermione was able to contain her curiosity for nearly three minutes as her father led her towards the garage. "What's the surprise, daddy?"
"You'll find out when we get to the garage, darling," he replied.
"Is it magical?" Hermione asked.
"Some, myself included, would say that it is. It is not, however, your sort of magic if that's what you're asking," he replied.
Hermione chewed her lip. "Is it bigger then a bread box?"
"It is," He agreed. "Smaller than a shipping container and it comes in several colors." Phil led his daughter into the garage and came to a stop in front of a large crate. "Here it is." He lifted the lid to allow Hermione a look at the contents.
"What's this, daddy?" Hermione asked, fascinated by the mechanical mystery she'd been presented with.
"It's a kit car, darling," her father replied. "We found several of these unfinished kits in one of the new properties." He decided not to mention the fact that their existence was the primary reason he'd closed the deal.
"What's this one?"
"It's a sports car," he replied, "a Lotus 7 to be precise. The car in the opening of 'The Prisoner?'" He added which did nothing to wipe the look of incomprehension on her face. Kids, no appreciation for the classics. "I thought you might like to put it together."
"I'm not sure I can without Luna," Hermione admitted.
"She is still coming here isn't she?" he said with a smile. "I thought you girls might like something to do while you're here and I thought you might wish to receive your first automobile. I did when I was about your age and thought it might be nice to continue the tradition." His smile deepened. "If you find that you enjoy it then it would be my pleasure to find a shared hobby."
"You like assembling cars?" Hermione asked in shock.
"I prefer collecting them," he admitted, "but to spend time with my daughter I'm quite willing to get my hands dirty."
Hermione rummaged around the container for a few minutes until she found what she was looking for. Holding up the manual with a look of triumph. She began thumbing through it, detached from the world.
IIIIIIIIII
Luna slowly walked into the room and made a deliberate show of locking the door behind her. Page sixty seven of the manual had contained several ideas on how to put the prisoner in the proper state of mind for what was on page forty six.
"Father is such a sweet man," Luna purred. "So innocent, but not the two of us." She shot the frog a jaded look. "We know how the world works, we know how ugly it can be, and that's why you're going to tell me everything I want to know. Because we're not so different, you and I. You know exactly what you would do to me if I were on the other side of that chair and it scares the hell out of you, doesn't it. Because you know that I'm willing to go just as far as you are to get the information I need and you're one of the few individuals around unfortunate enough to know exactly what that statement means and how terrifying it is."
"Croak."
"I'm tired of playing around," Luna growled. Her left hand focused the light on the frog. "Either you tell me what I want to know or I'll bury you. You got me?!" Luna screamed. "I will bury you!" She pulled a phonebook out of her pocket and let it drop onto the table in front of her prisoner. It landed with a satisfying thump. "I think you know what I need that for and just how unpleasant things are about to be for you," she said menacingly. She hoped he did anyway as she wasn't too sure of what use it was supposed to have in an interrogation, maybe she was supposed to read it to him or something? Pity her ancestor hadn't been more detailed with some of the more confusing bits. "Where should we start?" She giggled shrilly. "Or should I just-" Her rant cut off when someone knocked on the door which was odd as her father was supposed to wait for his cue before barging in to save the prisoner. She carefully unlocked the door and peered out.
"We're gonna have to cut him loose," her father said unhappily.
"Why?" Luna asked with a pout. "The Sedition Act lets us hold him for up to two weeks without being charged."
"His solicitor's here with a writ ordering us to release him," her father explained.
Luna opened the door wider, revealing another confused frog, this one in a tiny business suit with a tiny robe over them and a tiny wig on his tiny head. "How do you know he's a lawyer?" She asked curiously.
"He's wearing a business suit, a set of robes, and a wig," her father explained. It had taken hours to get it to fit right on the tiny amphibian. "I realized he he might be a solicitor after I got the suit onto him. I was sure of it after I got the wig on."
"Isn't there anything we can do?" Luna pled.
"Not unless you managed to get him to talk," her father sighed.
"Woof," their prisoner barked, the 'frog's' fragile sanity having been shattered by the latest display of insanity. "Woof woof."
"Ribbet?" The frog's lawyer inquired.
"Yeah," Luna agreed. "Get him outta here." Sometimes it wasn't easy to be a reporter, sometimes she wondered if it wouldn't be better just to hang up the notepad and retire. But she knew she couldn't do it, not when the public was counting on her to bring them the truth.
"Don't be like that, crabapple," her father consoled. "It's time for you to pack up to go to your friend's house anyway."
IIIIIIIIII
Like Quidditch, Polo wasn't a sport that Hermione had any interest in. Like Quidditch, Polo seemed to be a way for idiots to harm themselves with a thin veneer of sport over it to make it appear respectable. Also like Quidditch, there was no power on Earth that would stop her from going anyway to show support for her best friend.
Anne gasped as her houseguest got thrown from his horse and landed on the turf with a sickening thud. "Tough fellow, isn't he?" She commented calmly after the boy got up immediately and remounted his horse. "Getting up like that."
"Hmmm?" Hermione didn't drag her eyes off the game. "That fall was nothing, you should see some of the situations he gets himself in during a Quidditch game."
"Bad?"
"Sometimes I think they should ban the bloody sport," Hermione admitted harshly. "It's bloody awful. Hardly a game goes by that doesn't end with Harry in the hospital wing."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry was in his element, in the thick of it all. He'd jumped at the chance to experience a friendly game at the Granger's club, trusting that his previous riding experience would see him through. Probably a mistake, he admitted to himself as he remounted.
A flash of white caught his eye and Harry let his instincts take over. Choking up on the Polo mallet and slid down till his head was only inches away from the ground. A firm wack propelled the small wooden ball through the goal posts, scoring the last point of the game.
"Good show, lad," one of his teammates called out. "But in the future, I would advise you not to show off so much."
"What do you mean?" Harry squinted in the older man's general direction.
"The business at the end," he clarified. "Where you did that fancy riding."
"Oh, that. I wasn't trying to show off," Harry replied. "Broke my glasses when I got thrown and I couldn't see the ball well enough to hit it without getting close."
"Ah, forgive me then." He shot the boy a measured look. "Planning to work on your game during your stay with the Grangers?"
"Time permitting," Harry agreed cheerfully.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione sighed in frustration when it became apparent to her that Harry had no intention of leaving the field despite his inability to see and potential injuries.
"He's going to play without his glasses?" Anne exclaimed in surprise.
"He'd try to keep going if he broke both his arms. Harry doesn't know how to quit," Hermione said with a frown. "That dummy."
"Guess a trip to the optometrist is in order after this then," Anne commented. She gave a nod to her driver, trusting that the burly man would arrange it. "After all, it's not like you can use magic to fix them."
"Not during holidays anyway," Hermione mumbled in discontent. "How much longer is this game going to be?"
"Should be finishing up any time now," her mother replied. She smiled as the players dismounted. "A quick shower and we'll be ready to go."
"Did Harry's team win?" Hermione asked reluctantly, a bit ashamed to admit that she hadn't been keeping score.
"Don't believe they did," Anne replied. "Why?"
"Just wondering," Hermione said.
Hermione was waiting when Harry and her father emerged from the locker room a few minutes later and immediately invaded the boy's personal space to give him a pat down to assure herself that he hadn't gotten any injuries.
"Stand still," she ordered, getting annoyed at the way the boy was trying to pull back and slapping his hands out of the way to make sure he wasn't hiding any sore areas. "It doesn't look like you broke anything," she said. The girl leaned forward to peer at his eyes. "No sign of a concussion either. Let me see your teeth," she demanded.
"I hope we didn't make you wait long, darling," Phil said with a smile. "But we thought it prudent to have the team doctor give Harry a once over to make sure he didn't have any injuries before we came out."
"You didn't, daddy. Good thinking," Hermione replied as she finished her inspection. "Come on, mum's waiting in the car."
"I didn't know we were in a hurry," Phil said thoughtfully.
"We need to get Harry some new glasses," Hermione said firmly.
"I'm fine," Harry pitched in. He held up a pair of taped frames. "The tape will hold for now and we can fix them when we get back to school."
Hermione frowned. "You listen to me, Harry Potter. You are going to get a new pair of glasses right now and you're going to like it. It's long past time you got a new pair of frames." And she was sick of the other girls saying bad things about them and how they made him look! Needless to say, she kept that last part to herself.
"It's not that I have a problem with getting new glasses, Hermione," Harry said reluctantly. "It's just . . . well . . ."
"Just what?"
"I don't really have much money on me," Harry protested.
"Don't worry about it," Phil said cheerfully. "You're our guest after all."
"Still . . ."
IIIIIIIIII
Luna looked over the disorganized pile of junk on her bed with a sense of pure satisfaction. Sometimes it was best to get everything together before you packed it to make sure you didn't leave anything behind by mistake.
"Father," she called out. "Where are the spare tools for the printing press?"
"In the ice box," he called back.
"And my portable offset press?"
"It's under your bed," he replied. "So is your typewriter."
"Thank you father."
"It's what fathers are for, ragweed."
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione was starting to become a bit unnerved by the way her friend stared blankly out of the window on the ride back to the house. It was a little creepy, to be honest, not a word she normally associated with Harry Potter.
"What's wrong, Harry?" She finally asked, concern coloring her tone.
"I can see the leaves," Harry whispered in an awe filled voice.
"What?"
"On that tree." He pointed down the motorway. "I can see the leaves from here."
"So?" Hermione asked with a confused frown.
"I've never been able to see that well before," Harry explained. "I always thought everyone was the same way and that it was impossible to see things far away with that much detail."
"Oh." A thought occurred. "How do you see the snitch then?"
"I always look for the sparkle," he replied absently. A grin formed on his face. "Draco is in for a big surprise in our next game."
"So . . . getting those glasses was a good thing then?"
"A great thing," Harry agreed.
Ms. Jane the librarian was waiting for them at the front door with a wide smile on her face when they finally made it home.
"Thought you'd want to know that a new box of books arrived earlier today," Hermione's old governess reported. "It's in the blue room waiting for you."
"Thank you, Ms. Jane," Hermione said politely. Unable to restrain herself any longer, the girl darted down the hall and towards her precious precious treasures intent on spending the hours until dinner in uninterrupted bliss.
She was carefully giving the third book a quick flip through when her best friend slipped into the room with an odd expression on his face.
Harry carefully locked the door and, after a few seconds of consideration, calmly propped a chair under the knob. Long experience with the Dursleys had taught him that fights may start with the adults but would quickly spread to him.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked without looking up from her book.
"Your parents are having a row," Harry replied. He carefully considered what else to add to his barricade. "Thought it might be a good idea to get out of sight." Something he thought prudent even if they were nothing like the Dursleys, never hurt to be careful.
"Hmmm?" Hermione looked up from her book.
"Your dad said your mum's class was a feckless drain on society and she replied that bad breeding would tell," Harry replied.
"Oh." Hermione stifled a giggle. "They're not fighting."
"Then what are they doing?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, interested to learn how things were in normal families, the Dursleys being anything but despite their attempts to be so. Be hard to find a bigger lot of freaks he thought to himself.
"Mum and dad met when they were in University when they took the same politics class." Hermione suppressed a smile.
"So?"
"So their politics were diametrically opposed and they spent half the class arguing with each other. The professor got tired of having to listen to it so he made them work on a project together, they've been together ever since."
"Sounds like you and Ron," Harry joked, having heard more than one of his housemates speculate on the so called true nature of his two friends' relationship.
"Mum and dad disagreed on politics," Hermione said with a frown, more then a bit sick at the thought of dating Ron 'Time to Eat' Weasley. "Ron and I disagree on everything including his complete lack of manners."
"Oh."
"Besides, daddy later told me that he didn't believe most of the things he used to spout off in class. Just did it to make mum and the other lefties angry since he didn't believe in any of what they spouted off and mum was fun to wind up and really cute when she was angry so he spent most of his time trying to make her angry. Mum knows what he's doing now so she doesn't get angry anymore, but daddy says she still gets cuter."
"Uh." Harry's eyes crossed.
Hermione giggled. "There's no heat in it, it's just a game they play. Understand?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I guess."
"Come over here and sit next to me," Hermione demanded. "I've got some new defense books here the you might want a look at." They were buried somewhere under the engineering books, Harry was lucky to have a friend like her that was thoughtful enough to add reading material that he'd be interested in to her order, Hermione thought smugly. It was consideration like that, that had convinced her to reward herself with another dozen books for Luna and herself.
IIIIIIIIII
Anne walked into her husband's office with a look of profound smugness on her face. Looked as if her little girl had realized her friend was a boy after all or vice versa. She wasn't picky.
"You'll never guess what I heard from one of the maids."
Her husband looked up from his papers to focus his attention on her. "What is it?"
"Harry took advantage of our . . . er . . . distraction earlier today to sneak into our daughter's room and barricade the door."
"Ah." Phil sighed. "He did, but not for the reason you're thinking."
"Why then?" She demanded, a bit put out that things weren't as juicy as she'd been led to believe they were.
"From what I gather, his home life isn't the best." The man licked his lips, trying to think of the best way to put things.
"So?"
"So he thought it we were having an actual disagreement, that it might get violent, and that Hermione's safety might be threatened and so decided that it would be prudent to get between us and Hermione," Phil said bluntly. "Just in case things got out of hand."
"In case of . . . oh." She drooped. "Well, it just goes to show what a responsible young man he is," she said in approval.
"I'm still trying to figure out why Hermione didn't talk to us about Harry's situation," Phil continued. "I wouldn't have even guessed it, one of the footmen had to tell me." It was one of the advantages of hiring staff away from his little girl's godfather, they were unusually good at ferreting out the odd secret. A skill that had come in handy on numerous previous occasions.
"What are you going to do about it?" Anne asked softly, knowing her husband well enough to know that he wasn't going to leave things as they were.
"Well, I had thought to buy the company the man works for and then fire him." He smiled coldly. "Then I would continue to do everything in my power to keep him out of work if it meant buying every company in England. With the end result being the bastard starving to death in a ditch somewhere without a so much as a pence to his name."
"How about we give a couple of the staff a few days off with a strong suggestion that they spend their time at Dursley's residence? I'm sure Suzanna would be delighted to do so," Anne asked. A visit Vernon might even survive even if his ability to eat solid foods did not. "We can do your way after that."
"We could do that," he allowed. "Or I suppose that I could call my brother in law and ask him for a favor."
"Well, he does have a few friends in the house of lords but other than that, I'm not sure what he can do, bloody useless fop," she finished fondly. She loved her brother dearly, but the man had no sense at all. Seemingly content to spend his days in idleness and to be even more useless than their father had been when the had still been active.
"Other side," Phil laughed. "The judge."
"I see." Anne smiled wickedly. "I knew there was a reason I married you."
"Yep," he agreed. "For the obscenely massive piles of money you gained access to after we exchanged our vows."
"Oh? I thought it was so I could pursue my own interests knowing that you had absolutely no desire for women," she said as she slid into his lap. "Least that's what your sister-in-law said the night before the wedding."
"What?" he asked dully.
"She was so angry that I was keeping you from being yourself," Anne giggled musically. "She said that she only wanted you to be happy and that I was denying you that chance by selfishly trapping you in what would undoubtedly be a loveless marriage."
"More likely she was angry that I would retain control over the family money and my heirs after me," he replied. "Gold digging bitch."
"Divorcing her was the one intelligent thing your brother ever did," Anne said sympathetically. "Not that he isn't a perfectly lovely man, it's just . . ."
"He's a bit too much like your brother? Interested in wine, women, and more wine." Well, publicly anyway. He absolutely hated keeping things from his wife but there were some things best kept as quiet as possible.
"Exactly," she agreed. "The older one anyway, Jack is a bit better, just lazy."
"He still working as a repairman?"
"Yes," she gave a heavy and long suffering sigh. "He has so much potential too, if only he'd apply himself to something."
It was the biggest scandal that had rocked their family in centuries, someone of the blood doing something so hopelessly common. The only thing that barely excused it, so far as the less pleasant members of her family were concerned, was the fact that he'd been born on the wrong side of the sheets. Didn't he know that he was supposed to go into exile and live on his remittance rather than doing something so common? Her step mother had whispered that it was proof that even the most noble of blood wasn't always able to overcome the common sort every chance she got. The day she'd seen the back of that woman for the last time was one of her fonder memories.
*Omake below.*
Omake by Joeyzoot
"You may ask her three questions," Phil allowed.
~~Based on my kids "What if"s~~
~The 3 question rule and why a guard is the librarian:~
Hermione at 2 1/2.
"Mummy, what's that?"
"That is a caterpillar, Hermione."
"What does it do?"
"It becomes a butterfly."
"How?"
"It will spin a cocoon around itself and become a butterfly inside."
"How does it do that?"
"Hermione, you know the rule."
"Yes mummy, three questions only."
Miss Jane: "Come along, Hermione, your mummy has to go to work now. Maybe we can find a book about caterpillars."
Later
"Miss Jane, this book only has pictures. I wanna know more!"
"First, Hermione, it's 'I want to know' not 'I wanna know'. Perhaps we can find a book in the library about caterpillars."
Still later:
"Sir, I'm having a little problem."
Hermione's dad: "Oh, what seems to be the problem?"
"Well, sir, Hermione is not satisfied with the books on biology in the library regarding caterpillars and butterflies. I have a cousin who runs a bookshop, I was wondering if I could order some more books on the subject."
"Wonderful idea! Why don't you take responsibility for keeping the library up so Hermione is not disappointed again."
And so it begins...
(I know it looks like her parents are shutting her up unnecessarily, but I envision the rule applying when her parents HAVE to do something now, not all the time. As she grew the rule (as all rules) would be modified to fit the circumstances and age of the child.
Omake by dogbertcarroll
Harry and Hermione walked up to the Lovegood's chess piece shaped home in good cheer. Harry and Hermione had both had the best time they'd ever had in their lives and the only thing missing was Luna.
They knocked at the door and were shocked to see Luna appear with bags under her eyes and looking like she hadn't slept in days.
"Luna, are you OK?!" they both burst out.
"I don't know," Luna admitted. "Trying to break someone has left me almost as broken as I wanted them to be, but if we don't get the information..." Luna burst out in tears and the two quickly embraced her and carried her to the sofa they spied from the entryway.
An older man, whom they recognized as Luna's father despite looking severely rung out, came up the stairs. "Harry, Hermione, I'm sorry to meet you like this, but being reporters means sometimes you have to do things you don't like and it takes its toll. I don't know what we're doing wrong but he won't break. We've tried everything!"
The agitated man sat next to his daughter and rubbed her back until her sobbing stilled as they both fell asleep.
Harry and Hermione quickly entered the door they'd seen Luna's father enter the room from and followed the stairs down to an interrogation room.
Spotting the toad sitting on a table under a spotlight their eyes hardened. They both remembered a certain rat and were determined to not let that situation be repeated.
"I'll need a car battery and some small clamps," Hermione said firmly. "I think I recognize that species, but we'll save the pelicans for last, just in case nothing else works."
Omake by meteoricshipyards
Excellent! Loved the Lovegood scenes. Here's an Omake:
The room was quiet and dark. Will Frog sat in the corner and thought. He had already checked the room out thoroughly and knew that there was no escape. The Lovegoods might be crazy, but they were also geniuses.
The green amphibian just hoped that the training he had received would be enough. He almost,- almost! - gave the game away when he offered him that junebug. He always had a weakness for junebugs.
But the Lovegood girl had made a mistake! She had been too enthusiastic and had withdrawn the offer of the junebug before he could succumb.
As long as he kept his mouth closed...
If the snorkacks even thought he talked, his rear appendages would end up an entré in a posh London restaurant. He shuddered, and calmed himself for the next round of interrogation.