Author's Note: It seems that it takes a long time to write this story, probably because of all the points of view, and the fact that it actually is several stories woven together. In fact, I'm actually considering the possibility of after I'm done with it, splitting those stories out so people can read them separately with ease (possibly with more content to link them together).
I'd like to thank the following for their feedback on this chapter while it was being written: Brad Coleman, Jonas, apaidan, joey zoot, Tommy King, Alysson deMerel, Mark Schmidt, Wolfkin, drwho13, urs frobarth, Derek Dees, and the irreplaceable Jim Trigg.
This chapter is a birthday chapter, the middle of three in this story. It's also posted on mine. (I'm posting just after midnight my local time.) At the moment I've got a lot of birthday chapters in production. (The next chapter of Ginger Snaps is also a birthday chapter.) Making them unique is a bit of an issue for me. Hopefully I'll be successful. Let me know.
Chapter Six: Four
Hermione woke up when Harry started his morning shower. She'd thought about trying to get him breakfast in bed, but knew that was futile. Harry was a very light sleeper. He woke up when her father's alarm went off, and there was an hallway between him and Hermione's parents.
The memory of last night's kiss, crossed her mind as she stretched and got out of her bed. Then she took the three steps over to Jimmy's crib. Her little baby boy had just opened his eyes as well. Hermione bent over and whispered, "Good Morning Jimmy." She almost picked him up, but realized that she'd gone to sleep nearly undressed. She quickly put on her robe, and pushed her hair back before she bent down and picked up her son from his crib.
Out of her room and down the stairs she went as the morning light just came through the window above the stairs. She walked into the kitchen, discovering that her mother was already there, putting bread into the toaster. "Good morning, Mum," Hermione said, before yawning again.
"Good Morning, Hermione," Wendy Granger said. "I hear Harry's in the shower. I take it that you'd like to meet him as he comes out with breakfast?"
"Yes, Mum," Hermione said.
"Then hand over the baby," her mother said and pointing over at a tray. "The full English Breakfast is over there. I've already put an extra desk chair in his room so you can eat with him. And by the way, I want to hear about last night's kiss."
Hermione handed Jimmy off to her mother. Jimmy was getting better at letting Hermione be away from him. Grandmum was almost as acceptable a holder as mum now to the baby, unless he wanted to nurse. He now took the bottle a little, as opposed to pure breast feeding, which was good as Hermione's milk supply was not keeping up with Jimmy's demand. Her mind wasn't on that though. Her mind was on last night's kiss.
It had been her fourth real kiss. The kiss had been fire through her mind and body. She was certain that if they hadn't had their under garments between them, they would have merged into flame. She could still feel the pressure of Harry's lips and the heat of his chest form where her breasts pressed against him. His hands had caressed her back and tousled her hair. She so wanted more. One kiss every two months was definitely not enough. Every two days wouldn't be enough. Two hours? Maybe.
She got to Harry's room and placed the tray on his desk. Harry had pulled the desk out from the wall, so it was possible to sit on either side. Hermione put her dish on the outside and waited for Harry to exit the shower. She knew that he liked long hot showers, because he had never been able to take a hot shower at the Dursleys. He'd told her it felt really good on his back, especially when he started using the creams from Madam Pomfrey to help reduce his scarring.
The door to the bathroom between Harry and Hermione's room opened, and Hermione turned to greet him. She opened her mouth but could not say a word. He hadn't dressed yet. At Hogwarts, the boys dressed before they returned to the dorm room, though there had been exceptions. Harry was rarely one of them. In fact she hadn't really seen him naked since that day that she'd discovered his scars.
She'd seen him topless before, mostly when he was swimming, but he always put back on the t-shirt as quickly as possible. Seeing him naked was entirely different, especially when she was still thinking about that kiss. He was no longer a scrawny little boy. You could tell that he was exercising regularly, as his muscles were starting to become defined. He didn't have a washboard stomach, but Hermione was sure that it would come. After all, her father had put Harry on the same exercise program as he was, and Monty Granger did have a washboard stomach.
Of course, Hermione's eyes had to drop lower, to the one part of a boy's body that she had only really seen in immature miniature on her baby. She blushed and looked back up, meeting Harry's brilliant emerald eyes. "Breakfast," she barely managed to get out.
"I got up too early for breakfast in bed," Harry noted, as he went over to the dresser and removed a pair of boxers from the drawer.
Hermione had a hard time pulling her gaze away from Harry as he dressed. It was certain that she wasn't moving from her place next to his desk. Somehow she managed to do so, and noticed the pile of gifts that seemed to be stacked on top of his trunk. Keeping her gaze away from Harry allowed Hermione to recover her wits a bit.
As Harry dressed, Hedwig dipped through the window to drop another wrapped present on the pile. "You've got quite a haul," Hermione said.
"Yeah, I might even beat Dudley's haul, on my first real birthday," Harry said. "Last year he got thirty-eight gifts. First he had just thirty-six, but the year before he had had thirty-seven, so he pulled a pout and got more."
"You haven't opened anything," Hermione noted before looking back at Harry. He'd put on a green t-shirt, and was pulling up a pair of khaki shorts. He had a somewhat off center smile and his green eyes seemed to draw Hermione in.
"I was tempted," Harry replied buttoning up his shorts. "But you said you opened yours with family. And somehow, well, the idea of opening them with everyone, sharing what I'd always missed at the Dursleys, with family, it just felt like it should be."
"Okay, we'll call up mum and dad when we're done eating," Hermione said, as they both found seats across each other at the desk. She picked up a fork and dug into breakfast. It was good.
It was just past noon when Lavender got out of the black Austin cab at a little inn that read:
Dhomat e magjistare
δωμάτια της μάγισσας
Lavender knew how to read and speak a very extensive list of languages. She was fluent in twenty-two languages, having managed to pick up Hindustani while at Hogwarts from Parvati. She was also trying to learn Kannada from Parvati as well, but was hampered a bit by the fact that Parvati wasn't quite as fluent in that. The Albanian and Greek in that sign wasn't hard for her to translate into English. It was the Room of the Witch, a rather appropriate name for an inn run by a witch.
"Charlie Brown!" the proprietress said almost immediately upon Lavender's Uncle's entry. "I thought I'd never see you again after that April in Tbilisi."
"I'd been wondering when our paths would cross again, Dashurie," her Uncle Charlie said. "I think this is the longest time between meeting since that Gostilna in Log above Skofia Loka."
"Yes, and maybe this time you'll settle down with me," Dashurie said. "You know that Elira would love to see you more. If I'd known you were coming she wouldn't be in Vlorë visiting her Aunt Diellza for the week."
"Vajza ime may have a bit of a surprise this evening," her Uncle Charlie said. "This is my niece, Lavender. We're going to be spending some time in the Forrest."
"Be careful in the Forrest Charlie Brown," Dashurie said. "There are dark doings going on deep in the forest."
"That's why we're here, Dashurie," her Uncle Charlie said. "We need to make sure of a connection to events last year at my niece's school. We've heard that a wraith from Britain may be there."
"If you seek the wraith, you will find him in the Forest," Dashurie replied. "I have heard that he regularly returns to a hallow of trees just above the naval base. You will know when you find it by the feeling of evil, but be careful Charlie. It has driven many who have visited to bad ends, and Elira would miss you."
"And you?"
"But of course," Dashurie replied, before ducking back through a door.
It wasn't long before Charlie and Lavender were back on the road north, towards Vlorë, though not before Lavender witnessed Charlie kiss Dashurie behind a partially closed door.
Harry Potter surveyed the table in the Grangers' dining room. At the very end was all the presents he'd received. He sat at the head of the table, a seat that was normally the domain of Mister Granger. Hermione had what she called the seat of honor, to his right, with little Jimmy held in a sling as his little hand reaching upward while he nursed from her breasts. Hermione's parents were on the other side of the table, in the seats that were usually his and Hermione's.
There was a big cake in front of him, with twelve candles aflame. It was larger than any of the ones that Dudley had had over the years. It was covered with lemon icing with a "Happy Birthday Harry" plastic sign embedded in it. Unlike what Dudley had, Harry's was home made, and the sign was apparently custom ordered. He'd seen the ones for everyone else in the house. Hermione's had been right under his when he'd seen it in the drawer a couple days ago.
"Come on, Harry, make a wish and blow out the candles before they burn down to the cake," Hermione said. Since it was just family, and Jimmy had "demanded a drink," she'd discarded her t-shirt, one of the Vauxhall shirts that both she and her mother seemed to have an infinite supply of. Harry couldn't help but smile as his son put his hand against his mother's breast.
Harry still needed to make a wish. That was hard to do, as his life had improved so much since Hermione had come into his life. It was hard to believe that last year he'd thought that going to Hogwarts was a wish come true that he hadn't dared to think of. The year before that he'd just wished for something to eat on his birthday, having spent the whole day taking care of the lawn and then been locked in the cupboard under the stairs while the Dursleys had a steak dinner.
A wish. It was something he'd never dared to think would come true. Since he'd gone to Hogwarts, a wish was possible for once. Magic had turned his life around. No, Hermione had turned his life around. If it wasn't for her discovery of his scars, he was sure he'd still be at the Dursleys in Little Whinging. There was little if anything he wanted from the town he'd grown up in. His was life was so good now that he couldn't conceive of it becoming better.
He had a family now, with Jimmy and Hermione. Even Hermione's parents were sort of family now. With the kisses that he and Hermione had been sharing, he thought he might even have a girlfriend, if he could screw on his Gryffindor courage and ask her. He worried a bit that if he did, she'd say no, and he was a little young to have a girlfriend. Of course, according to Penny all of Gryffindor already thought they were a couple, and maybe they were. That was a strike against using his first ever birthday wish on Hermione, either for a recovery of his courage or for her to say yes.
He glanced over at Hermione's parents, and then back at the pile of opened presents sent from all his friends. It was nice to have friends, people that Dudley wouldn't chase away, people that liked and cared for him. He'd never had that before his first year of Hogwarts really. First it had been Ron, who had actually thought his scar was cool. Then Hermione had become his friend after the troll, and once she'd been discovered to be having his baby, it seemed like he got a lot closer to everyone in Gryffindor in his year, even the girls. He really couldn't see his life without his friends anymore.
No there was only one wish to make, one belief to encourage. With the thought that he wished that his life would continue to get better, he blew out all twelve candles.
"Well it looks like Harry's got a good chance to get his wish," Monty Granger said. "Not that he'll tell me."
"Not supposed to," Harry replied with a grin. He'd been briefed by Hermione about birthday wishes, and the ritual where her father tried to find out from the birthday girl what the wish was.
"Oh I will find out," Monty said. "I always find out." He paused briefly. "Harry are you ticklish?"
"Don't answer that, Harry," Hermione interrupted before Harry could respond. "You'll never get away."
"So you are, otherwise my little Mercury wouldn't have warned you," Monty replied.
"I'll just do what Hermione does, pick up Jimmy," Harry replied.
"You can't hold him all the time," Monty stated. "And Hermione's nursing right now." With that, Monty reached around the table, and tried to tickle Harry's ribs.
Hermione's father had beginner's luck as he tickled just the right place to cause Harry to break into laughter. Soon Harry was on the floor laughing, Monty ticking him to the point that he nearly had to go pee.
He didn't tell anyone what he'd wished, despite the tickle torture. Harry wanted his wish to come true and intended to do nothing to prevent it.
It was Laundry Day at Seamus's house, and he was required to remove all of his bedding, collect any dirty clothes left in his room, and take it down to the laundry in the basement. It left Seamus a lot of time to think about the day before.
Seamus was not entirely sure why Parvati had kissed him at Neville's birthday party. It wasn't an unwelcome kiss. She'd been his Valentine date by the random draw that had been conducted by Professor Trelawney, who'd offered to do it when they were discussing it in the courtyard below the North Tower. It hadn't been a bad date, and they had become good friends.
Yesterday, they'd kissed for the first time. Or more accurately, she'd kissed him, though he hadn't been exactly unwilling and unreactive. It hadn't been a peck on the cheek, nor a quick kiss on the lips, but what the boys knew the girls called "THE KISS." Their mouths had been open to each other and their hands had roamed over each other's bodies. He'd relieved it all night in his dreams. Of course in his dreams it hadn't ended when his hand discovered her bare bottom.
Seamus folded up the quilt that his great-grandmother had made for him carefully, placing it on the chair. She'd given it to him when he was five, and told him that would give him good dreams when it was on his bed. Ever since day he'd kept it on his.
In the dream right before he woke up they'd been naked. He knew what Parvati looked naked, and she knew what he looked like as well, though probably not with the morning wood that he had at the moment. She probably knew what he looked like better than he knew her, actually because he'd been absolutely shameless last spring when the girls had moved into the nursery in Hermione's wardrobe in the boys' dorm. It took almost a week for the Weasley Twins to fix everything their explosion had damaged in and around the First Year Girl's Dorm.
Seamus hadn't quite been sure why Professor McGonagall had a problem with the first year girls joining Hermione in her closet. Of course, he had no idea why. It wasn't like there wasn't enough space. He did agree that Professor Trelawney was a dingbat though.
Seamus examined the light blanket he used in the summer. It needed washed today, probably due last night's dream. He hoped his mother wouldn't look too closely at them, and especially not the sheets. He was fairly certain that if she did, there would be another edition of the talk, and the one he'd been given the week before had been bad enough.
He was still a bit puzzled why Parvati had decided to kiss him ... or to kiss anyone at all. They were only twelve, after all. True, they'd seen what had happened to Hermione, up close, but that wasn't in itself a reason. True, Parvati was the girl Seamus was closest to, and he was the boy that she was closest to. Maybe it had been just a want to see what it was like kiss.
It didn't feel like that though. By the time his hand had found her bare bottom it had felt like something more, something he wanted to explore. It was something that until it ended he hadn't realized how much he wanted it to continue, and still wanted more of it.
His mother may have felt he was too young for the boy girl thing, but he'd tasted Parvati's lips and didn't intend to go back. As he carried his bedding down to the laundry, he wondered if Parvati felt the same. He passed the phone in the hall, and caught a glance of his mother's frequently used numbers, as well as the notebook kept there to take messages. His mother could never remember a phone number, finding floo addresses to be easier to remember. The big "Note Book" printed across its cover reminded him of one tiny fact.
He hurried to deposit his load, before bounding back up two flights of steps. Somewhere in his trunk was a scrap of paper with all the muggle residing Gryffindor just finished first year's phone numbers on it. And Parvati's number was on it.
It had not been easy to decide how to make the picture that would grace the cover of Letters to the Boy Who Lived. He'd considered doing a picture of Ginny writing the letters, perhaps at the kitchen table of the Burrow, but after meeting the girl, he was sure that there was no way that he could get her to sit long enough to sketch her and the environment. Ginny Weasley seemed to be a force of nature.
Then he'd considered going with Harry writing, as he'd often seen him in the dorm, writing one of those letters to Ginny in response. That seemed a bit in reverse, though. He'd sketched a few, and even started one painting, now put aside unfinished for now. Then he thought about doing Harry with Hedwig, which brought a whole host of poses and ideas.
There was one finished painting already, destined for the back cover, with Harry standing at the window of the Gryffindor dorm that he'd shared, with Hedwig coming to land on Harry's outstretched arm. The light of the moon through the window just caught Harry's face and the lightening shaped scar on his forehead. Dean thought it was a masterpiece, but it wasn't right for the cover. It was of the reception of the letters, but somehow it didn't comprise what he wanted.
That was why he'd taken the underground to a park in the green belt around London, and now stood in the highest place he could find overlooking the park, working on the final painting. Catching the light just right for the countryside below the already sketched Hedwig and flight was important.
When Ginny had told him of how she'd sent that first letter, going outside and attaching that letter to Hedwig, not really knowing if she'd get a response, she had started to spin an image in Dean's mind. She'd told him how she'd launched Hedwig into the air, and then watched as Hedwig had disappeared into the distance.
Dean had reversed the image, with Ginny a small figure in the background, nearly lost in the countryside that Hedwig flew above. But the image hadn't lost her. The outer side of the letter she'd sent had "Harry Potter" in bold black ink, slightly obscured by Hedwig's claws, but a corner was folded back, revealing Ginny's tentative yet clear signature, just a bit closer the view than the recipient's name.
The green open fields were done now, and the sky with its cirrus clouds was complete. It was time to finish Hedwig. Looking up from the painting, he spotted Hedwig, landed on the railing around his position. He hadn't expected the owl, but as the owl looked at him, one sentence came to mind.
Hedwig was ready for her closeup.
The little Austin pulled up before the small hotel in Vlorë, finding a parking place by the side. This was their third day in Albania, and they'd just finished scouting out around the area that they thought You-Know-Who might be. Late tonight they'd be sneaking across the waters to the area above the naval base that all the signs pointed to. Lavender jumped out of the passenger side and closed the door behind her.
On the way to Vlorë, Lavender had been almost constantly casting the suite of detection spells, several times getting positives that You-Know-Who had been within yards of the road. Once the spell had even informed her that the wraith had left someone when they died just a few feet from where they'd passed. None of the results revealed anything that was really new, so they'd be having to investigate the grove above the naval base after dark.
Lavender really wanted to just find a bed and get some rest. The casting had taken a lot out of the twelve-year-old. As she trudged up to the hotel though, she got the idea that she wasn't going to be taking a nap any time soon.
A five-year-old girl burst out of the hotel, crying "baba!"
Her Uncle Charlie went down on one knee, and cried back at the onrushing girl, "Elira!"
Lavender turned to her uncle, just as Elira jumped into Charlie's arms. "Does Lucy know about this?" she asked.
"Lucy set Dashurie and me up in Skofia Loka," Charlie said. "We've been together off and on of seven years now. Elira, this is your cousin Lavender."
Elira twisted around in her father's arms, and shyly said, "hi." Lavender had to admit that the little girl was quite cute with her pixie cut black hair and dimple.
"Lavender, go to the front desk and ask for the key for Zeshkan," Charlie said. "I've got a daughter to take out for candy before delivering her back to her aunt, who by the way, is running the desk right now."
Lavender barely paid attention to the aunt, though she cataloged the exotically dressed lady enough that if her uncle asked, she could describe her fully, and identify her later. The key had a number two on it, and she headed up to the room. She really wanted to just collapse, but she knew better. This was not her first time accompanying her uncle on a job after all. It was, however, the first time she could use spells to make sure it was safe.
Lavender had spent a lot of time in charms learning the spells to detect traps and prevent bugging. Asking Flitwick about that had been one of the first things she'd done when she had visited his office the third week of school. (It wouldn't be a good idea to be too eager to learn those spells.) There were much more advanced versions, of course, but this time she wasn't worried about a Russian assault squad interrupting her shower. That had been rather frightening in South Ossetia.
She entered the room, closing the door behind her before casting the array of spells. There was nothing there, not that she expected it, but it paid to be sure, since she was for the moment alone in a foreign country. At least she could speak all the local dialects this time.
Lavender dropped face first onto the bed, and swiftly fell asleep. She knew she'd need the nap before tonight's exploration.
The call from Seamus had surprised Parvati. To be honest, she'd never expected to get a call from any of her classmates. She was sure that it hadn't been a cheap call, but every time she'd tried to wrap up the call, he'd draw her back into the conversation. They'd talked about Hogwarts. They talked about Harry, Hermione, and baby Jimmy. They talked about songs they'd like to sing, and where to sing them. They'd even talked about Herbology! They didn't talk about their kiss, though. In fact, Parvati was convinced that Seamus had forgotten about it, or at least hadn't returned her feelings.
That was before he finally got to ended the call. He'd ended it by saying "I love you." Parvati had been shocked, unable to stop herself from the automatic reply long trained into her by her parents, "I love you too."
Parvati was twelve. She wasn't supposed to have a boyfriend yet, at least according to her parents rules. She wasn't supposed to be in love.
But Parvati had kissed Seamus, and dreamed of kissing him again. She'd spent over a hour talking to him on the phone, and she'd told him that she loved him. She couldn't deny it to herself, as she stood by the mirror in her room, already undressed for bed. As she looked at her growing breasts, surely big enough now to require a bra, Parvati judged herself to no longer be a little girl. True, little Ginny Weasley might be a slight bit more developed than her ... who was she kidding, Ginny was more developed her, for sure. It was her and Padma's argument that had finally got her a bikini.
"Still thinking about Seamus," Padma said from the door. Parvati shook her head. "Mum wants to talk to you before you go to bed. She's in Dad's study."
Parvati turned around to look at her sister. It wasn't that different than looking at a mirror, sometimes. They were mirror twins, after all, with Parvati being right handed and Padma being left handed. And since both had undressed for bed, Parvati's admitted better fashion sense wasn't a factor, both of them only having their plain white undergarments on, and that only due to their time of the month. "I guess I have to. Bury me in the back garden and get Ron to speak at my funeral. Seamus probably has some suitable lost girlfriend Irish lament he knows to sing."
"It's not going to be that bad," Padma replied. "Dad went out, so it's just Mum."
That was a positive, Parvati thought as she walked down to her father's study. Without Father present, it indicated that the talk was serious, but there was no punishment involved, because father was always there when punishments were handed out. Her parents never gave out punishments without the other present.
Parvati opened the door to the study, and found her mother seated not behind her father's desk, but on the love seat. This was another good sign. Parvati took her seat on the other end and waited for her mother to speak.
"Parvati, you are growing up, and when I heard you end your call with your friend Seamus, it led me to believe that we need to reestablish some rules, and perhaps clarify them," her mother began. "First, I really need to know about your relationship with Mister Finnagin. When did you meet him?"
"I sat next to him after we were sorted," Parvati began. "He's a Catholic, and always says his faith's grace before meals, only he almost sung it before he picked up his fork and tore into the feast. Since we're both Gryffindors, we where in all of each other's classes, but we weren't often paired with each other. To be honest, he wasn't the best student at first, not until Hermione hit her brill idea to help each other study and beat the Ravenclaws, which we did.
"At first, I really didn't think that Seamus was contributing much, but as we studied, I got to know him. He's funny, and he can sing. When we rode back on the Hogwarts Express was the first time I really heard him sing. I hope when his voice breaks he still has a good one, because his treble is ... well divine might be the right word. He can make a song soar.
"On Valentine's Day, we decided that Harry and Hermoine needed to have a date, as she was pregnant with Harry's child. Somehow that evolved to all of us having a date in the same classroom. We drew names at random. Sally-Anne drew Dean, Lavender drew Ron, and I drew Seamus. Poor Neville was going to be left out until Ginny Weasley had to spend a day in Gryffindor when her mother got hurt. Anyway, we all thought that it wasn't much, and only Harry needed to have a good date, which he did.
"Turns out we all got good dates. Apparently Percy, one of our prefects sat down with the boys and gave them a few good tips. Seamus even had chicken instead of the steaks that all the other boys had, and I know he loves beef. He even turned our water into wine ... it was a special occasion ... and it was good wine too, judging by what father taught me.
"Seamus was the first person outside of family that I told of my dream to sing at the Royal Albert Hall during the Proms. That's why Dean gave me the painting of Seamus and I singing next to the conductor in the hall that I have in my room now.
"Last week, Seamus was my first kiss, and I started it. We'd, the rest of the girls in my dorm, that is, had been talking about Hermione's first real kiss with Harry, and I looked over at Seamus. The next thing I knew I was standing in front of him, and we kissed.
"Our lips met, and his hand went into my hair, tilting my head just a bit. My arms went around him, as his other hand slid down my back. It wasn't until the gust of wind blew up my dress, and his hand touched my bare bottom that I realized how deep the kiss was going. We kind of jumped apart then. He fell into the hedge."
"I see," her mum said. "It seems that it is time to remind you of boundaries again. You are not supposed to be dating until at least the third Hogsmead visit of your fourth year. You may go on joint trips to Hogwarts in mixed company during your third year, but if I hear that you are getting hot and heavy with that Irish boy or any other boy expect withdrawal of privileges
"You will make no further visits, anywhere without proper undergarments. That being said, it is obvious that your current undergarments are not suitable for the maturity of your body. Tomorrow I shall take you shopping for something in lace, along with your sister of course. As for long calls with Seamus, I shall not stop them, but do not expect to see him anywhere but perhaps in Diagon Ally shopping for your school goods until the Hogwarts Express. I think you've spent enough time away from home for the Summer.
"Do not even think of even slightly stretching the rules. Right now they are light. If you push, we'll start looking for an arrangement for you," her mum finished. "And that's after we lower the boom on you with more restrictions. Come home like Hermione, and you won't be going back to school."
Parvati knew that her mother was serious about the rules, and she had been pushing them a bit. She nodded her acceptance before she silently rejoiced in the one good piece of news hidden in the lecture. She was going to get a woman's undergarments instead of the plain white childish ones she had one, including her first bra. Responding to her mother's silent signal that she was done, Parvati stood, bowed to her mother, and started to leave the room.
"Oh, and no more water to wine," her mother added.
With a sudden bit of mischievousness, she turned around, smiled, stuck out her tongue, then left the room for bed, feeling much better than she had been.
Once again the trio of soon to be first year girls were gathered in Sally-Anne's room for a story. She figured that she was in for another night with them asleep in the soon to be second year Gryffindor's bed. She looked over their eager faces, knowing that she'd got them in the habit of a weekly tale. Sally-Anne hoped this time she'd chosen a good one. There had been some complaints about the last one.
"Our tale tonight begins not in the vaulted halls of Hogwarts, but in a dingy pub on the edge of Hogsmeade, an all wizarding village to which the students of Hogwarts may visit starting in their third year. The pub, known a Hog's Head Inn, was once the place to stay. In fact one of it's better rooms is still known as the Crowdy Chambers, after noted Minister for Magic Maximilian Crowdy. Everyone who was anyone stayed at the Hog's Head before the Welcoming Feast every year. It was only the creation of the Hogwarts Express that lead to its decline.
"It is of course currently run by Alberforth Dumbledore, brother of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and most unfortunately acquitted of using inappropriate charms on a goat. I've yet to find out what those charms were. In any case, Alberforth was know for hosting the best rounds of cards in the North of Britain. There were some, of course who derided the card games, dingy surroundings, and of course the over indulgences in intoxicating beverages. Rubeus Hagrid was not one of those people. In fact he was quite willing to publically defend Alberforth, to much the same extent as to the bartender's brother.
"Rubeus Hagrid was Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Some believe that he's a half giant, based on his extraordinary height, and thus untrustworthy, a brute, and dumb. Nothing could be further from the truth. There is no more loyal person in Hogwarts than Rubeus Hagrid. He truly believes in the good in most anyone, and one would be advised never to insult Albus Dumbledore in his presence.
"Hagrid is not without his issues, what person doesn't have them, after all. Even the aforementioned Albus Dumbledore will admit to failings. When it comes to Hagrid, some of them are just because he's so big. There are not many beasts that Hagrid can't handle, and he'll tell you that if a beast isn't behaving, it's because they're just not understood right. And Hagrid's other problem is that he can't keep a secret. Ask the right question, and he'll just blurt it right out, admonishing himself immediately for doing so.
"A case in point was the Philoshopher's Stone, which Hermione Granger would have never figured out was at Hogwarts, Hagrid hadn't blurted out that what Fluffy was guarding was between the Headmaster and Nicholas Flamel. A little light reading, well, light reading if you're Hermione Granger and have just been confined to the Hospital Wing for a few weeks, at least. That book had to weigh a good forty pounds, if not twice that much.
"But back to Hagrid, who was a regular at the card table in the back room of the Hog's Head Inn. There was no denying that Hagrid was quite the card shark. He'd usually go into the game with a couple Gallons to ante up with, and leave with most of the night's pot. In fact one month, he cleaned out the table so much that at least three men left the Hog's Head in barrels. To this day he's got a ten percent stake in Witch Weekly that he has no idea what he's going to do with, and Barnabas Cuff is still mum about what happened last December that caused him to have to get more funding for the Prophet.
"It was one cold last of February evening when Hagrid had nearly cleaned out the whole table once again that what appeared to be a newcomer to the game offered to add a dragon egg to the stakes, assuming that those bidding for it knew how to take care of the soon to hatch egg. Hagrid had no problem with that, after all if he could handle a cerberus like Fluffy, surely he could handle a dragonette, though of course it he wouldn't be playing music to get a dragon to sleep.
"Pride goeth before fall, ladies, pride goeth before fall. — and also, loose lips sink ships. The stranger, having obtained what he wanted, promptly loss the egg, as well as his boots, and slunk out into the night. If Hagrid had followed, instead of spending part of his winnings on a truly fine vintage of fire wine that Alberforth had set aside for him, he might have noticed the stranger heading not to the far side of town or disappriating, but heading up to Hogwarts while discarding his disguise. But that's another story ...
"It didn't take long for the first year Gryffindors to find out that Hagrid had an illegal dragon egg in the fire, about to hatch. It was not uncommon for the Gryffindors to stop at Hagrid's after a Quidditch practice, especially as Hermione's pregnancy progressed. It wasn't on a straight line back, but it was on a bit easier path, and halfway on that path too. True Hagrid didn't exactly have the best tea and cake, by any measure you might wish was actually quite deplorable, if not inedible, but Hagrid had known Harry and Neville's parents. Harry was an orphan, and Neville was one for all practical purposes until very recently, so both of them liked to hear Hagrid's tales of their parents.
"Hagrid couldn't hide the dragon egg, and Ron Weasley knew, mostly, that he shouldn't have it. The Gryffindors were not the only ones who soon knew. That's when we heard a clatter outside. It appeared that Draco Malfoy had just fallen off the bench below the window, and had somehow managed to crack his head on a rock in the process.
"Now at one time, Malfoy might have tattled, or attempted to set up something to get the Gryffindors in trouble, but Malfoyhad changed. I'm not entirely sure why or how. Some say it was due to the birth of his nephew, which I entirely disagree, as the changes were evident much before the Feast of Saint Patrick. Harry is of the opinion that it was due to what happened to his half sisters Victoria and Juliet, but has never quite explained why, saying that it was for Draco and his siblings to tell. I do know that Harry and Victoria had shared a compartment when they went home for Yule.
"In any case, Malfoy was brought in to Hagrid's hut, which was not only unsuitable for a dragonette, it really wasn't suited for caring for an injured Slytherin, but with a quick glance at us, Hagrid pulled on his umbrella, and the knot on Malfoy's head disappeared with a light blue glow. I'm not supposed to say anything about that, of course.
"Almost immediately after Draco opened his eyes, the umbrella already tossed into the corner, his eyes locked on the egg in the fireplace, saying, 'is that really a dragon egg?'
"Now we Gryffindors were silently hoping that Hagrid wouldn't respond, or deny it, as every single one of us thought Draco finding out was perhaps one of the worse possible outcomes of the situation, but Hagrid replied, 'Aye, a Norwegian Ridgeback, unless I miss my guess.'
"The excitement in his eyes was evident, as Draco stood up and moved closer to the egg. Now, if this had been the Draco that had first come to Hogwarts, I'm sure we would have already been on a course of events that would have resulted in someone getting bit, and massive loss of points to Gryffindor. Fortunately, Draco had changed, and being in the room next to the dragon's egg had brought out Draco's barely suppressed fascination with dragons. It turns out, as Draco said, being named dragon either results in you hating all the dragon references, or embracing them, and how can you not embrace it when you've lines like the Hogwarts motto to use. Though apparently Parkinson doesn't believe in the motto, at least as it applies to the Malfoy scion.
"The first sign that there might be trouble with Hagrid having a dragon egg was after Hagrid said that he'd always wanted to raise a dragon. Ron immediately gave the first problem, 'you live in a wooden house,' but it was when Hermione let out something from her vast reading, 'trading in dragon eggs and raising them outside of a reservation is illegal.'
"We take the words of Hermione Granger as gospel truth in Gryffindor, as she'd hardly ever wrong and seems to have read something of everything, especially since the increasing size of her pregnant belly had reduced her mobility. So when she said something was illegal, every one of us Gryffindors paled. Not so Draco.
"'Not for Hagrid,' Draco immediately replied. 'He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds. Taking care of any magical creature found in and around Hogwarts is his job. When I asked father if there was anyone likely to have a dragon, Hagrid was the first name that popped to mind. He's supposed to take care of any creature, be ready to assist the Professor of Magical Creatures with any creatures brought to or found at Hogwarts for class, and arrange for the proper repatriation of any creatures who can no longer survive here.'
"I could see my fellow Gryffindors relax the moment Draco finished it. I could also tell that Draco was rather happy that he'd known something that Hermione hadn't. It was a rare thing, but it still left one thing to handle. After all, this was a Norwiegian Ridgeback, which would be bigger than Hagrid's house in just six months after he hatched. Still, we enjoyed being called down there when the egg hatched, and even laughed a bit when Norbert, as Hagrid named the dragon, coughed a bit of flame that caused a bit of Hagrid's beard to burn up.
"That's when Professor Kettleburn got involved. Every single Care of Magical Creatures class got to go and see Norbert, because who knew how long it would be before another hatchling dragon was on the grounds of Hogwarts. And it was Kettleburn that had Ron contact his brother Charlie who had left Hogwarts early for a job at the Romanian Dragon Reservation, because Norbert was quickly outgrowing the stone shed that the dragon had been moved to for classes.
"It was due to Ron that seven of us got to be there when Charlie came with some of his friends came to pick up Norbert. Somehow Draco ended up being the eighth student, joining Ron, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Neville, in carrying the case holding Norbert up to the Astronomy Tower. We had to make sure it was a quiet exit. Dragons do not do well when exposed to loud crowds, so Norbert left at night.
"We treated it like some sort of big adventure, whispering between each other about curfew and the trouble we might get into, as if we didn't have permission and were not being led by Professor McGonagall. Much to our surprise, our head of house even told us exactly how many points we might loose if we'd actually snuck out and did everything on the sly. We had to stop several time to avoid encountering someone, most of the time ghosts, but once McGonagall stopped Argus Filch who apparently thought we were up to no good, carrying nefarious goods through the corridors.
"When we got to the top of the Astronomy Tower there a dozen dragon trainers waiting with Charlie, along with an actual flying carpet to transport the boxed hatchling in. They may be banned in Britain, but the Dragon Reservations have an exception, either that or the aurors look the other way. Either way, we all watched as the dragon wranglers and Norbert disappeared into the distance.
"Then we all tip toed back to Gryffindor Tower, by way of the Slytherin Common Room entrance, pretending that we were all out after curfew without permission. Percy Weasley was waiting for us, and caught on to our pretend, with a stern face, but with twinkle in his eyes, informed us that 'all of Gryffindor would make us regret our actions,' then paused a bit before informing us that it was, 'because we're all insanely jealous of how much First Year got to do with Norbert.'
"Thus ends my tale ends in the red and gold tower of Gryffindor, in the great school of Hogwarts. I leave you with one last though, doomed to keep you up late at night, delivered by Draco when he was questioned about where he'd been. Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for thou art crunchy and good with ketchup.
"What, you thought I was going to quote the Hogwarts motto? That would have been too cliche. Off to bed now. You all snore."
Bill Weasley was really beginning to regret taking the job of assisting in fixing the Hogwarts wards. He'd been just about ready to head back to Egypt, reporting to his boss's boss to get his portkey back to the pyramids, when Dumbledore had arrived at Ginggotts to ask for help. Since then he and two other curse breakers had been crawling through the bowels of Hogwarts, tracing down where the various charms and wards were linked together.
He'd had one good piece of luck to start things out. His twin brothers had given him the map. Though the map itself had turned out to be somewhat of a dead end, studying the charms on it had allowed him to find where it linked into protections of the castle. Even better, he'd found a couple common connection points. Where the map was connected was pretty clear. In fact it looked like whoever had attached the map there had actually cleaned up some mess when they did so.
If his suspicion was correct, it might not have been the original connection attempt, though. The signature was slightly different around that connection. It seemed to be balanced a bit more towards the right, up, and red, to use the curse breakers three element signature shorthand. He had an idea why the difference had occurred. There was a heart vandalism on the paneling in front of the connection that he was going to have to show Harry Potter.
The connection point he was looking at currently wasn't as nearly as clean, and that was before the fact that it was located above the composting bin was taken into account. He was sure that the compost bin hadn't been originally intended for the purpose it was currently being used for. After all the nearby Greenhouse Seven had been built in the 1960s.
Bill was a son of Arthur, so he knew about plugs. In fact he knew more about them than his father. He'd had to rent a place on the muggle side during his first stint as a curse breaker in Egypt, and he'd seen an over loaded socket with a large number of plugs attached. That was what this particular point reminded him of. Everything was going to have to be "unplugged" from this point, and if he was right, it was going to take down several major charms in the process.
He began to catalog everything hooked in at that point, enumerating each one on his list, so they could be restored, properly connected into the system at mostly other points, if possible. There was there was Greenhouse Seven climate control, Ravenclaw Tower entry security, Gravity recharging point for Ravenclaw Tower, Passageway Gamma Three distance compression, Control for dumbwaiter to the Divination Professor's Quarters, hot water charm for the third floor boys bathroom, Defense Against the Dark Arts Curse, deicing charm for the northwestern battlements, Ravenclaw Tower orbital launch control ... wait.
Defense Against the Dark Arts Curse ... Bill had to go back and check that. He examined the curse closely. Oh boy it was complex, with a count down that started when the Defense Professor took possession of his office, with a rather innovative charm attached to determine where the Defense Professor's office was. It looked like that was linked to the Headmaster's Office somehow. He'd have to track down that end before he took it down. Maybe not. It was an information in port. He could probably detatch and use it as an input to help take it down.
Oh that was neat, a connection to the hospital wing to encourage mistakes in healing that professor. It looked that like that one was at least already blocked off. In fact it looked like a couple connections had been found and sheared off somewhere, but at least in one case, the curse had grown new connections, making this a rather insidious curse. In fact, it looked like it was linking itself into a good third of the items hooked into the castles systems at this point.
That being said, it was no where near as bad as some of the ones he'd removed. You-know-who was no Egyptian Pharos. Oh, it looked like he might have just found the link to the main control of that curse. It headed off towards the seventh floor corridor, near that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy if his reading of the connection and the map he'd gotten from Fred and George was correct. That map was turning out to be really helpful, especially once Bill had managed to bring up the high detailed version.
It was a good thing that he'd remembered the inscription left by James Potter under the bed in the Head Boys Quarters.
Bill finished categorizing the thirty-three connections plugged into Hogwarts at that location, making sure he knew what each one was trying to accomplish. Some of them probably wouldn't be restored, and not just the Defense Against the Dark Arts Curse. All of them would be down in the next two hours, or his name wasn't William Arthur Weasley.
He knew it wouldn't be easy, but it had to be done now. If he even left for a minute, there were charms inside that curse that could hook to him, preventing anything from happening to the curse. So, down it had to go, and afterwards he'd find that control and remove it to.
With a bright spark at the base of the connection plate, Bill began the process of untangling and removing the curse. Each little bit sparked as he took it off, but it was a carefully controlled spark, discharging the little bit of energy that would have backfired if he hadn't allowed the release. Some smoke rose, a deep black smoke, from the center of the curse's cable. It was only then that Bill really knew what was controlling the curse. You-know-who had made a horocrux and it was somewhere in the castle, probably off the seventh floor corridor.
Fortunately, Bill was prepared. He couldn't destroy it until he got to the actual object, but he did carry a small vial of basilisk venom. A drop on the connection and a charm sent it backwards a good hundred yards, burning the control back far enough to prevent the feedback from taking him out. Then he started to remove the methods of death, and links through the castle. It looked like there might be one more node near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but Bill isolated it, so he'd be able to clear it after he got this, the main node. The secondary taps were removed with flashes of purple sparks, and the tangle of connections began to unravel.
He nearly sent the command for Ravenclaw Tower to go into orbit, catching the signal at the last possible second. Then down went the climate control for Greenhouse Seven, followed by the Divination dumbwaiter. A bright orange spark followed, and then blue smoke, before it all cleared.
The connection point no longer had anything connected to it, though there were still a few connections that he could restore. The only one he did was for the Greenhouse, the rest he pulled carefully away, labeling them, and double checking that no more connections of the curse were present in the composting bin.
Taking a deep breath, he checked the time. It seemed that he'd done it in just a half-hour. True there was still that node, and the horocrux, but he'd count this as a job well done, and go to lunch ... after he took a shower and changed.
If there was one place at home where Neville felt most himself it was in the extensive greenhouses known as the East Wing Annex. Which was actually on the south side of the manor, as when the main wing had been rebuilt in the 1680s a North East facing main facade had replaced the previous entry between the east wing and the North Wing around original keep. It was the last major building completed in the wizarding world before the statute of secrecy had cut off such works. His own room was still at the very end of the Nursery wing, situated just to the north of the eastern most of the greenhouses.
The greenhouses of Longbottom manor were not just a place to grow the many plants that the family cultivated, for the extended family provided a good amount of the magical plants as well as the staples needed for every day life. They were a place where each Longbottom had their own little spot that they showed off their own favored plants. Neville still maintained the first little plot that he'd been given as a child of just four, some hardy geraniums that had somehow survived his clumsy initial efforts to make a garden, but now he filled half the same green house.
He now had magical plants, but they were not his pride and joy. The non-magical flowers were. Neville was particularly proud of his orchids at the moment. He carefully tended them, pinching off spent blossoms, before moving on to preparing a bed for some actual magical plants. Dragon dung had a rather powerful smell, but if you reduced it just a little bit, it actually had a rather sweet smell to it. It was that particular smell he was after, as it indicated that the dung was properly mixed.
He'd just about finished mixing the soil and dung when he heard his mother entering his greenhouse, well mostly his greenhouse, as his mother's morning glories still covered a trellis on the west wall. He could tell it was his mother by the fact that she was humming a tune that she'd gotten stuck in her head. His mother had told him that she got tunes stuck in her head a lot easier now. At the moment she had Jerusalem stuck in her head, it seemed.
Neville looked up, and discovered that his mother had apparently collected some of the pots of dirigible plums, prunus ceraifera tinnitus that he'd ordered, and was directing them ahead of her. The chimes of the seeded plums rang as she moved them in, her wand directing them up and down slightly to the tune she was humming.
"You know Mum, it's going to take hours before they stop ringing," Neville said as he began to dig the hole that the first of the plants would go into. "And they'll try to keep that tune going."
"At least it's a half decent tune, unlike that rhapsody that your father keeps playing from that muggle band," his Mum said. "I almost strangled Sirius for introducing him to that band, and Monty Granger has a lot to answer for lending your father the last few albums."
Neville had to agree, "Part of the reason I'm out here now, instead of later today is that Dad was playing that Princes of the Universe song, again. Can't he stick with the better ones like the Champions one, or 'Who Wants to Live Forever?' I like that one."
"Don't admit that to your father," his Mum said. "Nice choice with the plums, by the way. They should fit right in. Do you want me to move my morning glories next spring?"
"No, I kind of like them, and I need them with the plums," Neville said, loosening the roots in the pot bound plant before putting it in the hole. "They'll help orient the fruit."
"Really?" his Mum said. "I didn't know that."
"I read about it in Magical Fruits of the Old World," Neville said. "I need the silver one next. Give it just a little bit more of shake before you put it down though. I don't want it seed bound."
"Good idea," his Mum said. "Does the blue one need more shaking? It's a bit flat, note wise."
"No. It needs a bit more watering with gilly water," Neville said. "On, and thanks for the help getting Ginny's present yesterday."
"You're welcome my son," his Mum replied, and for a moment Neville basked in the warmth of parental presence. He was so going to miss Mum and Dad when it was time to go back to Hogwarts.
It had only been about three days since Ron had turned in the copy of Letters to the Boy Who Lived. It had been sent in right after Neville's birthday party, with a few extra comments inserted from his fellow Gryffindors, and even one from Draco Malfoy that was just too good not to include. So he was quite surprised to discover the advanced copy sitting on the Weasley kitchen table when he got up.
Somehow he'd ended up credited on the cover. He'd just taken it upon himself to organize the letters and do a little bridging, or get someone else to write a bridge in a few cases. It was one of the many times this year that he'd ended up doing something that originally everyone had expected Hermione to do. In retrospect he wasn't sure why people thought Hermione would have the time after she gave birth to Jimmy. Babies took a lot of attention from their mothers. So just like he had done when Hermione was in the Hospital Wing in January, Ron stepped up.
When Hermione had read it, and she was a speed reader, completing it before everyone else, she'd complimented him, telling him that he'd made it a lot more relatable than she would have. Ron had just blushed, but in the back of his mind he had to admit that she had a point.
So the light brown copy from Obscurus Books that did not yet have the cover picture on it now laid to the right of Ron's breakfast. He kept looking over at it. "Letters to the Boy Who Lived: And His Replies to Ginny. By Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Edited by Ron Weasley. With the assistance of the Gryffindor Class of 1998." He couldn't stop his gaze drifting over to it, even as he stoked his night depleted bunkers with food for what would no doubt be a very busy day.
"I've already looked at it," Ginny said, at Ron's quick glance over at her. Ginny had been up a lot longer, and was currently helping their mother prepare a package of baked goods that would be sent to their brother Charlie in Romania. Their oldest brother Bill was at home at the moment, and Ron knew that Ginny was hoping that he'd still be there for her birthday in eight more days.
"Any problems?" Ron asked, not bothering to swallow first.
"They misspelled my name in your preface," Ginny said. "At least I hope it was them, because if you thought my name was spelled Ginerva, there is a hex I will be trying. And swallow before you talk, Ron."
"It might have been my hand writing," Ron replied, swallowing first. "I wrote that kind of late at night ... well, re-wrote it. I still don't think its good enough."
"Well, the editor of Obscurus Books seemed to think it was," his mother said. "In fact, I believe he said you should go into editing when you pass out of Hogwarts."
"Is Dean still working on the cover?" Ginny asked.
"He turned it in yesterday," Ron said. "And I haven't seen it either. Probably won't see it until the actual book is out in a couple weeks."
"Are we really going to do the signing at Flourish and Blotts?" Ginny asked.
"They want us to do it, but you will be on your best behavior," his mother said. "Now, Ron, I know you want to see the book, but finish your breakfast first. And Ginny, go clean your room. It's a mess."
Ron finished his breakfast in record time. He was a growing boy, but this was the first time he had his name in print, and on the cover too. Even a boy set on joining the Chudley Cannons some day couldn't resist it.
Fortunately it was a gray summer day, with a steady driving rain, so Ron wasn't exactly looking forward to going out to swim or play Quidditch.
"Mum!" Percy said, having run across the garden from the small three room shed that had been turned into a cottage for the newlyweds. He was soaked from the downpour outside. "Penny's water just broke!"
Ron was quite aware what that meant. He'd been told what to do with Hermione went into labor after poor Draco Malfoy had ended up delivering his half-sister's baby. "How far apart are the contractions," he asked almost without thinking. Apparently the lessons had stuck.
Their mother had almost immediately gone over to pick up a bag next to the pantry, but she stopped suddenly. She looked over at Ron with surprise.
"What?" Ron asked, as he noticed both his older brother and mother's eyes on him, as well their sudden stillness. "Madam Pomfrey made sure the entire Gryffindor First Year knew what to tell her and to do after the Malfoy birth. We did have Hermione in our dorm. A day earlier and Jimmy would have been born on the Express. So Percy?"
"Three minutes," Percy replied after a moment.
There was a loud crack in the aftermath of his mother's apparition across the garden.
"I don't think you've got long, Perce," Ron said.
"How is it that you always know more about pregnancy and babies than I do?" Percy asked as he said down heavily on the bench opposite Ron.
"After we heard about Malfoy, none of us could avoid learning," Ron said. "And with Hermione we learnt everything."
The kitchen remained silent for quite some time. Only the sound of the driving rain against the windows filled the room.
"You know, Harry was with Hermione when she gave birth," Ron said. "Why aren't you with Penny."
"Didn't know," Percy mumbled. "Penny told me to send Mum," Then he looked up. "Shall I go back."
"Harry seemed to think it was good that he was there," Ron replied.
Percy stood and stumbled out into the rain. Ten minutes later, though, he was back, soaked with rain, to let his siblings know that they were now aunt and uncles to Fabia and Gideon Weasley.
