Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Also, this fic is based on Aya Macchiato's story 'Harry Potter and the Gift of the Morrighan'. With permission.
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A Necessary Gift: A Harry Potter Story.
Chapter Eight
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The plan to free Dobby moved forwards much faster than Harry had anticipated. He had expected Lucius Malfoy to try and work the deal to his own advantage, yet while Malfoy did make some attempts in that direction it appeared to be more out of habit than anything else. The Malfoy Paterfamilias seemed very keen to get rid of his troublesome House-elf and so didn't draw out the process.
After only a few days of sending owls back and forth (Hedwig showing herself to be just as good a post owl as her counterpart) a deal was struck. Sirius reluctantly suggested meeting in Grimmauld Place to complete the exchange, to which Malfoy quickly agreed - no doubt because he had no desire to entertain blood-traitors in his own home. Harry knew that Malfoy would think it very strange for a child to observe the whole proceedings and so hid up at the top of the first floor staircase, peering down over the banisters at where Sirius, Malfoy and the two elves met in the entrance hall.
Malfoy looked the same as ever. He was dressed in expensive dark green robes, his long hair - denoting him as the Head of his Family - was tied back, he held a silver cane in one hand, and had a supercilious smirk fixed on his face. The elf at his side was a very different matter; Harry barely recognised him. Dobby was as small and skinny as his counterpart, and the dirty pillowcase he wore was almost identical to the one Harry had first seen him in - his attitude was altogether different, however. The Dobby from Harry's old world had been cringing and subservient even after he'd been freed; this Dobby bore himself with angry defiance, his bulbous green eyes filled with obvious hatred as he glared up at Malfoy.
Sirius made it plain he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "Well, Malfoy, let's get this over with."
"Very well. An elf for an elf, as we agreed," Lucius Malfoy said smoothly.
"Right." Sirius drew his wand and impatiently beckoned Kreacher towards him. The wizened old elf hurried forwards eagerly and Harry was astonished to see he was actually smiling. Sirius levelled his wand at the elf. "Occultaveris," he encanted and a pale blue light encircled Kreacher's throat before slowly fading into the elf's wrinkled skin. Lucius Malfoy briskly cast the same spell on Dobby, the elf glaring resentfully at his master all the while.
Sirius had told Harry all about the spell earlier after he'd wondered aloud how to stop Kreacher passing on any information which would be dangerous in the hands of someone like Lucius Malfoy. Apparently it ensured that whoever was under the spell was unable to speak the caster's secrets. It was similar to the magic that kept a house-elf from betraying its master, not only because it forced compliance, but also because it was impossible to cast on wizards and witches or any other free magical being. Their own magic would fight against the spell, causing it to fail. House-elves, however, were incapable of throwing off a spell cast by their owners. The spell also worked on Muggles, since they were without magic, and was occasionally used on those who knew about the wizarding world but couldn't be oblivated - either because it was necessary for them to retain their knowledge, or because their memories were too extensive to be removed without causing permanent damage. According to Sirius the spell was routinely cast on the Muggle Prime Minister each time a new one was elected.
"Right then." Sirius shrugged off his outer robe and handed it to Kreacher. "There you go, you're free."
The old elf shuddered as he held the clothing, looking extremely unsettled by the unfamiliar sensation of freedom. When Malfoy ordered him to give him the robe, Kreacher hurried to obey and looked a lot happier once the servant-bond settled over him once more. Malfoy showed no outward reaction to the magic. He simply sneered down at the robe in his hands and threw it at Dobby, who caught it with an ecstatic expression on his pointy face.
"Dobby is a slave no longer!" he exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. "Dobby is free!"
Malfoy smirked at Sirius. "Well, that concludes my business here. Enjoy your new elf."
Without another word the Malfoy Paterfamilias swept out the front door, Kreacher scurrying behind him. Harry quickly realised what the wizard intended – he had freed Dobby as agreed, but knew perfectly well that the elf would refuse to enslave himself to Sirius. All the benefit of the deal would be on Malfoy's side, while Sirius would be left with nothing. Unfortunately for Malfoy, however, his plan relied on Sirius and Harry trying to force the elf to serve them, something neither of them had any intention of doing.
"Hello, Dobby," Sirius said kindly to the small being. There was a hint of condescension in his voice, but Harry supposed that was normal enough for a pureblood wizard. Sirius was at least making an effort to be polite and friendly.
"Hello, Wizard," Dobby replied confidently, tilting his chin up to look Sirius in the eye. "Dobby is telling Wizard now that Dobby will never serve him. Dobby is keeping clothes!"
"Er, right," Sirius said, clearly taken aback by the elf's strident tone. He glanced uncertainly towards Harry, who descended the stairs to join them in the entrance hall. Harry nodded encouragingly at Sirius, prompting him to continue. "Dobby, my name is Sirius Black and this is my son Orion. We would very much like to hire you as our House-elf and -" The rest of his prepared speech was lost as Dobby quickly interrupted him.
"Mr Black! Is you being Harry Potter's godfather?" The small elf bounced up and down in excitement, smiling and no longer looking at all defiant.
"Yes, that's me," Sirius said with a strained smile.
Dobby stopped bouncing. "Dobby is being very sorry for Mr Black," he said earnestly. "Harry Potter is killing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and making things better for House-Elves everywhere! But then Harry Potter is dying and Bad Master is happy! Dobby hates Bad Master and is very sad about poor Harry Potter."
"Er, thank you, Dobby," Sirius said awkwardly, again looking over at Harry.
"Yes, thank you." Harry stepped forwards and took over the conversation, since Sirius seemed not to know quite what to make of the odd elf. "We don't much care for Lucius Malfoy either and were wondering if you'd like to come work for us instead."
"Dobby is a free elf," Dobby said, his face sliding back into a mutinous expression.
"Yes you are," Harry agreed. "We," he indicated himself and Sirius, "don't want to change that. We'd pay you to work for us and – and you could wear clothes and have days off and everything."
"Dobby is staying free?" The elf glanced between the two wizards suspiciously.
Sirius nodded. "Yes, absolutely."
"Dobby wants three galleons a week and one day off a month," Dobby said firmly, though he looked as if he expected his terms to be refused.
"All right, deal," Sirius said, then took a deep breath and held out his hand to be shaken.
Harry stared at the older man, knowing that most wizards would never dream of making such a gesture to a House-elf and frankly surprised it had even occurred to Sirius to do so. He guessed Sirius' behaviour was due to Harry's fond tales of the free elf and was touched that Sirius was so ready to welcome any friend of Harry's.
Dobby's huge eyes grew even wider. He carefully reached out one spindly arm, and the wizard and house elf shook hands. "Dobby will be working very hard for Mr Black and Mr Orion, sir," the elf said earnestly.
"I'm sure you will," Sirius said.
Dobby was as good as his word; Grimmauld Place was soon in better condition than Harry had ever seen it. The high ceilings were swept clear of cobwebs and every room in the house was given a thorough scrubbing. The wooden floors were polished until they gleamed and the tarnished silver door handles began to glint in the flickering candlelight from the now sparkling chandeliers.
Gradually the house began to feel more like a home and less like a decrepit mausoleum. With the grandeur that had faded over the years returning and the shadows being chased out. Sirius declared more than once that Harry's idea of hiring Dobby was pure genius and Harry himself was amazed by how well it all worked out, considering that - as was too often the case - he hadn't stopped to properly think his plan through.
As Harry got to know the elf better his first impressions were only strengthened; this Dobby was very different from the one he'd known before. It was hard not to notice that Dobby was very suspicious of all wizards - more so than Harry had ever imagined he could be. The elf seemed happy to work and worked hard, but defended his independence fiercely, and wasn't at all hesitant in making his dislike for the Malfoys known. Harry had expected him to be as excitable as his counterpart, but Dobby never burst into tears when treated with courtesy, nor bashed his head against the walls or shut his fingers in the oven. Occasionally he seemed to get the urge to punish himself, but only clenched his jaw and stubbornly suppressed the impulse.
When Harry actually thought about it he realised these differences probably stemmed from his own counterpart's death. The elf had worshipped Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived had given him hope and the strength to disobey his master. With him dead, Dobby had no doubt lost some of his cheerful demeanour while his hatred of the Malfoys only increased.
Despite being taken aback at first by all the changes, Harry was pleased to have the small elf around. Grimmauld Place had seemed rather lonely with only Harry, Sirius and a resentful Kreacher in the house. The fact that Dobby was a very good cook was another point in his favour. Having a delicious breakfast waiting for him made it much easier for Harry to drag himself out of bed every morning to attend his training in Pureblood etiquette.
The lessons took place in the Nursery (or School Room, as Draco insisted it was called) in Black Manor. The walls were decorated in cheerful blue wallpaper and covered in portraits of the more scholarly members of the Black Family, who spent their time offering unwanted advice and criticising the students' work. Books such as 'Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy' and 'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century' filled several bookshelves, and a beautifully painted globe of the wizarding world stood in one corner.
Despite the academic surroundings, Harry found it very hard to concentrate on what his great-great-aunt Cassiopeia tried to teach her six students. He hadn't had any formal lessons in years, making it difficult for him to settle back into the routine of school. Nevertheless he made an effort to learn, especially after realising with some embarrassment that in many areas he was much less well-informed than his young classmates. The class covered topics from wizarding geography and the structure of the Ministry of Magic, which Harry had only the vaguest notions of, to penmanship and basic Magical Theory. Almost none of it had been mentioned in Harry's classes at Hogwarts and while he had picked some things up through living in the wizarding world (and half-listening to Hermione's lectures), he still had a lot to learn.
"All right, everyone, settle down!" Cassiopeia called her students to attention one morning. "Today each of you will be formulating a Numerology Chart. Can anyone tell me what that is?"
There was an awkward silence as they all stared down at their desks or out of the window in hopes of not having to answer. Finally Vincent Crabbe spoke up from where he was sitting beside Ernie.
"It's a way of using the arithmantic properties of something to find out more about it," Crabbe said.
"Exactly!" said Cassiopeia, looking pleased with his answer.
It had taken Harry a while to get used to the fact that Crabbe – while rather dense about most things – was actually very talented at Arithmancy. It had come as a shock the first time the boy had answered a question correctly, something Harry had previously considered to be close to impossible.
Cassiopeia elaborated. "More advanced charts can also be used to predict future events, but that's for at least NEWT level students so you don't need to know how those calculations just yet. For now you'll be using the basic Arithmancy equations I taught you before to work out your Heart, Soul, and Character number."
"Why bother?" Draco's expression made it clear he considered such work beneath him.
"All of you – except for you, Astoria – will be starting Hogwarts in a few short months." Cassiopeia met the eyes of each of her students. "With the purchase of your wands from Ollivanders you will be beginning your journeys to becoming adult witches and wizards. Social blunders will soon no longer be dismissed as mere childish mistakes. The Houses of Black, Malfoy, Macmillan, Crabbe and Greengrass are highly respected, and it will be your duty to ensure they remain so."
Harry glanced sideways at Ernie and saw him draw himself up proudly, while the others had various expressions of determination, arrogance or, in Crabbe's case, dull incomprehension on their faces.
"I hope the Numerology Charts will teach you more about yourselves – allowing you to play to your strengths and avoid your weaknesses," Cassiopeia continued. "Does that answer your question, Draco?"
"Yes, Aunt Cassie," Draco answered, chastened.
They all got to work, pulling out parchment and quills in order to start following Cassiopeia's instructions. Harry wasn't at all sure his chart would make any sense seeing as they had to use things like their age, star sign and parents' names in their calculations. Harry was lying about almost all these things (only his star sign was the same, though he and Sirius had decided to change his birthday to the 23rd of July), so their arithmantic properties shouldn't apply to him.
"Is it Gemini that's represented by the number three?" Ernie asked Harry, bits of parchment strewn over his desk and a confused expression on his face.
"No idea," Harry said honestly, paging through his copy of 'Numerology and Grammatica' and trying to figure out whether he had to divide by seven or multiply by thirteen in order to get his Soul Number. He really wished wizards used calculators, but instead they had to go through the whole arduous process of long division and counting on their fingers.
"It's five," Crabbe grunted, deep in his own calculations.
Ernie quickly scribbled that down. "Thanks," he said.
"What about our Heart Numbers, how do we work those out?" Daphne spoke up from where she sat primly beside her younger sister, her posture perfect as she made notes in beautiful calligraphic script.
"There's no point you trying to calculate it," Draco said snidely. "We all know you don't have a heart." He was clearly still miffed that Daphne had called him 'an immature brat with the brains of a pygmy puff' the week before when he'd thrown a fit over her beating him at chess.
Eight year old Astoria glared at the Malfoy heir. "Don't insult my sister like that!"
"Why should I listen to a baby like you," Draco said, smirking at her.
"Don't call me a baby!" Astoria shrieked. There was a sudden blinding flash and Draco was shoved off his chair as if by an invisible hand. Ernie and Harry snickered at the sight of Draco sprawled inelegantly on the floor, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment and his normally slicked-back hair a complete mess.
"Children!" Cassiopeia exclaimed, rounding on them. "Show some decorum! Draco, get up off the floor, and Astoria, do try and control yourself."
Astoria wore a look of injured innocence. "It was an accident!"
"Yeah right," Draco muttered to Harry as he pulled himself back onto his chair. Harry shared the other boy's scepticism. Astoria seemed rather talented at controlling her magic and that was the third time in as many days that she had unleashed it on Draco after he had made some insulting comment.
"Nevertheless, Astoria, accidental magic only occurs in the presence of uncontrolled emotions." Cassiopeia sounded stern, though Harry thought he could see her lips twitch in amusement. "A witch should remain calm and poised at all times – not resort to temper tantrums."
"Yes, Lady Cassiopeia." Astoria sighed and tried rather unsuccessfully to imitate her older sister's regal bearing and gracious smile. Harry was glad she hadn't entirely managed it, since he found the sight of children trying to act like miniature adults rather creepy.
"Well, if you all have the time to cause trouble then you should be finished with your charts," Cassiopeia said. "Ernie, dear, what numbers did you get?"
"Well my Character and Heart Numbers are both threes," Ernie said, glancing down at his notes. "That means my general personality and my inner hopes and fears are the same; I don't hide any deep dark secrets or anything like that. The number three indicates humour, talent and social ease." He puffed his chest out, clearly pleased to be considered talented.
"Those are your strengths, but what about your weaknesses?" Cassiopeia prompted.
"Er, I jump to conclusions and am easily offended and… superficial." Ernie looked rather cross as the other children smirked at him. Harry found the description to be quite accurate; he still remembered how the Ernie from his world was convinced Harry was the Heir of Slytherin just because he spoke Parseltongue.
"And your Soul Number?" Cassiopeia asked.
"It's a nine, which means I'm loyal and prepared to work tirelessly, but can be arrogant and conceited if things don't go my way." Ernie frowned down at the textbook he was reading from. "Hmm, that must be wrong - I'm never conceited!"
Cassiopeia leaned over his shoulder and checked his calculations. "No, dear, it all seems right to me."
Draco snorted and nudged Harry with his elbow. "Hufflepuff for sure," he whispered.
"Well, Draco, how about you?" Cassiopeia said, turning to him.
Draco turned out to be an eight, which he was pleased to announce indicated the possibility of great success in business, finance and politics. In quieter tones he admitted it also meant he could be jealous, greedy, domineering and power-hungry. According to Cassiopeia the number Eight was one of the most unpredictable numbers and hinted at the potential for reaching either the pinnacle of success or the depths of failure. Draco looked as if he wasn't sure what to think of that.
Daphne had widely opposing soul and heart numbers, signifying that her inner personality was very different from the one she showed the world. Astoria was apparently adventurous and energetic, but also conceited, irresponsible and quick-tempered, which Harry thought fit the younger girl rather well. Crabbe claimed to be loving, amiable and talkative, prone to gossip and laughter. Harry couldn't think of a description less suited to the surly boy, but it soon turned out he had made mistakes in his calculations. When Cassiopeia urged him to try again, Crabbe refused. Since he should have got it right the first time considering he was actually good at Arithmancy, Harry decided the other boy simply wanted to avoid telling everyone his strengths and weaknesses – a surprisingly cunning move.
Harry had expected his own numbers to be completely inaccurate but, eerily, that wasn't the case. Using the imaginary background of Orion Black, Harry's soul number was one, which meant Harry's inner personality should be that of a solitary loner who was strong-willed, secretive and very determined. It also hinted that he was a leader who didn't like taking orders and possessed hidden talents. His outer personality was represented by the number seven, which implied he was outgoing and quick-witted, while also reckless and quick to anger.
Harry was honest enough to admit the description fit him rather well, but wondered at the significance of that fact. He'd done his best to leave Harry Potter behind, true, but he didn't really think of himself as purely Orion Black. Yet magically that appeared to be who he was now - his pretend identity was slowly becoming his real one.
"Well, good work everyone." Cassiopeia smiled round at them all. "I hope you think carefully about what you've just learned. Numerology is an extremely useful branch of magic. Analysing the characters of your friends and enemies can give you a huge advantage, as does having an unbiased understanding of your own personality. Any questions?"
They all stared back at her, unable or unwilling to think of anything to say.
"Does that mean we can go outside and play?" Ernie asked hopefully.
"Yes, I suppose it does," Cassiopeia said, causing her students to leap out of their seats before she could change her mind.
Draco tugged on Harry's robes. "Come on, let's go flying."
"I want to go too!" Astoria said.
"No children allowed," Draco said imperiously.
Astoria looked ready to unleash her accidental magic on him again, but her sister stopped her. "A proper witch doesn't involve herself in such boisterous games," Daphne scolded. "I suggest we stay inside and play chess instead."
"You always say that," Astoria grumbled.
"How about swimming," Harry said. "We can all do that."
This compromise was accepted by all (although grudgingly in Draco's case), and after successfully begging Cassiopeia to transfigure their clothes into bathing suits and cast warming charms on them, they trooped outside. It was still only April and the water was freezing, but with the spells it was just about bearable. Harry hadn't been scared of swimming ever since the Second Task during the Triwizard Tournament, but that didn't mean he was very good at it. He mostly stuck to the shallows as they all splashed around, then retreated farther up the beach where he and Ernie helped Astoria build a sand castle.
"Is that supposed to be Hogwarts?" Draco asked, strutting towards them after winning a water fight against Crabbe.
Astoria proudly surveyed her creation. "Yep! See, this is the Astronomy Tower, and that's the lake… and over here's the Forbidden Forest."
"Hmm, it's actually quite good," Draco said in a tone of exaggerated surprise. "I suppose Orion and Ernie must have done most of the work."
Ernie quickly intervened before Astoria and Draco could get into yet another explosive argument. "Is anyone going to the Beltane festival next week?" he asked, looking to the rest of the group for help in changing the subject. "It's our last chance until we finish Hogwarts, after all."
"Our parents are having a private celebration at home," Daphne answered for herself and Astoria. Despite having gone swimming, her hair was dry and perfectly styled, and there wasn't a single speck of sand on her pale blue swimsuit. Harry, not for the first time, wondered how she managed to maintain such a pristine appearance at all times.
"My family are of course going to attend," Draco said. "Father says the old ways must be followed. The Crabbes are going too, aren't you, Vincent?"
"Uh… yeah," Crabbe said, apparently having to think hard before answering.
"What festival are you talking about?" Harry asked. While he'd heard of Beltane in Astronomy classes at Hogwarts, he didn't remember any mention of a festival.
They all turned to stare at him in varying degrees of disbelief. Harry didn't know why they were so surprised – he thought they should be used to him asking stupid questions by now.
Daphne tilted her head in question. "You mean you don't know? Don't they celebrate Beltane in France?"
"Er, not really," Harry said, though he had no idea whether or not that was true.
"Mother has always said the French are ignorant savages. It seems she's right," Daphne remarked in clear disdain.
Draco frowned at her. "My ancestors came from France."
"I guessed as much," Daphne said.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Draco demanded.
"Anyway," Ernie said loudly. "The Beltane festival starts on the evening of the thirtieth of April and lasts until the next sundown on the first day of May. Wizards and Witches from all over the country get together and celebrate the end of winter and the beginning of summer."
Draco must have decided he preferred lecturing Harry over glaring at Daphne, since he continued the explanation. "It's one of the old Pagan rituals of renewal and rebirth," he said. "Like Samhain and Yule and stuff. Magic is at its strongest on those days. I think it's got something to do with the movement of the sun and the stars and all that."
"Everyone says it's great fun," Astoria told Harry with a wistful sigh. "I wish mum and dad would let me go."
"Mother says it isn't proper for young witches to attend public gatherings. Such events are full of Undesirables and encourage rowdy behaviour," Daphne said, causing her younger sister to huff and roll her eyes.
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It turned out Harry and Sirius were going to the festival. Sirius declared that after spending years either locked up in Azkaban or hunted by Dark Lords, they both deserved a night to relax and simply have fun. Harry was happy to agree with such excellent reasoning; after hearing his classmates describe the delights of previous celebrations, he was impatient to experience it for himself - especially since he wouldn't be able to once he began attending Hogwarts. Sirius wrote to Andromeda and suggested that she and Ted Tonks join them, and at some point Remus also got invited along. Harry felt a little out of place as the only so-called child among a group of adults, but any awkwardness disappeared as soon as they reached the festival grounds.
The celebration was held on an unplottable hillside somewhere in the Lake District of northern England. Coloured lanterns hung in the sky, softly illuminating the hordes of wizards and witches who had gathered to celebrate. Musicians were playing on a small stage, the music amplified by sonorous spells so that the beat thrummed through the crowd. Everyone was dressed in brightly coloured robes and some of the younger witches wore flowers braided in their hair. Numerous stalls had been set up on the grass, selling charm bracelets and other magical trinkets as well as serving food and drink to those sitting at several long wooden tables. Up on the top of the hill two huge bonfires were burning, the smoke spiralling up into the cloudless night sky.
"It's said to bring good fortune if you dance between the fires," Sirius told Harry, leaning in to be heard over the music and the laughter of the crowd.
"It's especially lucky if you go togheter with a certain special someone," Andromeda added and shared a loving look with her husband. Harry found it strange to see her so happy; with her face unlined from grief and her expression light-hearted and smiling, any resemblance she had with her sister Bellatrix disappeared.
"I remember the first time I attended the Beltane festival with you, just after we left school," Ted reminisced. "We danced until dawn."
"And I consider us both very lucky," Andromeda said with a bright smile. The couple exchanged a tender kiss before Andromeda turned her attention to Sirius and Remus. "Well boys, shouldn't you two be finding partners to dance with? There are plenty to choose from." She gestured towards a nearby group of witches, all of whom were eying Sirius in open appreciation.
Sirius grinned and winked roguishly at them, making them giggle and blush. Then he sighed. "Too young," he said regretfully. "Though I certainly wouldn't mind getting lucky tonight!"
"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed, glancing meaningfully down at Harry.
"Orion's old enough to know about the quills and the inkpots, Remus." Sirius waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "Now if you don't mind, I think I just spotted Hestia Jones over at the refreshment stand. Orion, you'll be all right if I head off for a bit, won't you?"
"I'll be fine, go ahead." Harry was quick to encourage him, knowing the older wizard hadn't had an opportunity for a night of fun in close to a decade. Sirius didn't need telling twice - he wended his way through the crowd of dancers until he reached Hestia and soon had her laughing and flirting with him.
Remus stared after him. "I really don't know how he does it."
"It's the Black family charisma," Ted told him solemnly. "Can't stand most of them, but you have to admit the Blacks can charm the pants off anyone if they try."
"Thank you, darling," Andromeda said. "You're not too bad yourself."
"What about you, Orion, any pretty girl caught your fancy?" Ted nudged Harry with a sly grin. "How about dancing with a witch or two?"
Harry knew any normal ten year old boy would blush furiously at the suggestion, but he only felt disgusted at the idea of having a crush on someone so much younger than himself. "No!" he quickly denied.
The adults wouldn't stop teasing him though and eventually Harry surrendered and began scanning the crowd for witches he was prepared to dance with. He noticed Madam Rosmerta selling butterbeers and firewhisky (way too old for him), and the Patil twins twirling around in time to the music (Harry really didn't want a repeat of the dreadful Yule Ball), and lots of other soon-to-be Hogwarts students - Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, Millicent Bulstrode. It seemed to Harry as if half the wizarding world had turned up for the festival and he didn't feel like dancing with a single one of them.
It was with great relief that Harry finally caught sight of Luna Lovegood and her father Xenophilius amongst the crowd. He recognised them immediately, mostly because they were both wearing bright yellow robes and waving their arms around their heads out of sync with the music. Harry grinned at the sight and – after promising Remus he'd stay within sight – headed off in their direction. He didn't feel at all hesitant in asking Luna to dance, since he was sure she wouldn't immediately jump to thoughts of true love and romance as other witches her age would. Harry shuddered to imagine how a nine-year old Ginny Weasley would behave. Harry had enjoyed his on-again-off-again relationship with the older Ginny, but her obvious crush on him as a child had been the cause of a lot of embarrassment. He was still filled with horror every time he remembered the singing Valentine she'd sent him.
"Hullo," Harry said with a bright smile as he came to a halt in front of Luna. "Would you like to dance with me?"
"That would be lovely," Luna said and then dispelled the brief impression of normalcy by adding, "Even though you're covered in Gibbering Humdingers."
"Er, what are they?" Harry hadn't heard of that particular imaginary creature before.
"Oh, they're small creatures with brightly coloured fur," Luna said conversationally. "They're very secretive and often pretend to be simple Grundlebugs in order to confuse their enemies."
"Oh," Harry said. He wondered if she was just being her crazy self or was implying something deeper. With Luna one could never know for sure. Then he suddenly remembered they hadn't been introduced. "I'm Orion Black by the way."
"My name's Luna Lovegood," Luna replied. "But some people call me Loony."
Harry frowned, angry that she had already been dubbed by that insulting nickname. Luna herself looked supremely unconcerned by the whole thing. "Uh, well, I'll just call you Luna if that's all right," Harry said. Only Luna could make him feel so awkward with only a few words, Harry thought fondly.
Luna seemed to decide the time for conversation was over as she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him over to join the other dancers circling the bonfires. There seemed to be steps that everyone else knew, causing Harry to stumble a few times as he rather unsuccessfully tried to follow along. Luna didn't appear to mind though, and she and Harry were soon laughing and kicking up their heels as they twirled around in dizzying circles. All awkwardness and hesitation inexplicably disappeared, leaving Harry happy to keep switching partners for hours, dancing with every girl he even vaguely recognised and several he didn't. In a small corner of his mind he noticed he was behaving rather uncharacteristically, but the sheer joy and exhilaration coursing through him meant he couldn't bring himself to care.
Finally Harry collapsed down in exhaustion beside Remus at one of the wooden tables, a giddy smile on his face. "Wow, I feel almost drunk!"
"That's the magic you're sensing," Remus told him with an amused smile. "It's particularly strong on Beltane – protection spells and the like are easier to cast, and Seers claim their powers are stronger tonight than on any other night of the year."
"Is that really true?" Harry was doubtful, remembering Trelawney's unconvincing lectures on the subject of Divination. They left him unprepared to trust any claims she or others like her might make about their so-called 'Inner Eye'.
"Well, no one can say for sure," Remus admitted. "Still, everyone knows wild magic rises on nights like these, especially in the presence of strong emotions from hundreds of witches and wizards. It's not quite accidental magic, but something deeper - it's there and it definitely affects us though."
"So that's why I feel so happy and danced for so long," Harry realised. Now that he knew to pay attention he could sense the huge upsurge of magic, fuelled by the cheerful and excited wizards and witches surrounding him.
As he concentrated, the magic suddenly seemed to shift moments before angry shouts broke out nearby. Harry instinctively leaped to his feet and turned towards the disturbance, drawing his birch wand as he did so. He saw a group of wizards also had their wands out, apparently having decided to pick a fight with a young couple dressed in ragged robes and muggle trainers.
"Half-breeds and Mudbloods!" one of the wizards spat, his voice slurred and his body swaying. He'd clearly had a few too many of Madame Rosmerta's Firewhiskies. "Get lost! We don't want your sort here!"
"Yeah, magic's wasted on the likes of you!" His companions jeered loudly while one of them shot a cutting curse at the couple they were threatening. It hit the young witch in the face, slicing her cheek open and causing her to cry out in pain. Her boyfriend bellowed in anger and retaliated - a jet of flames leapt from his wand and set the attacking wizard's robes on fire.
From there it devolved into an all-out brawl, with hexes and curses flying thick and fast. The spells often missed their intended targets and hit innocent bystanders, many of whom then entered the fight, adding to the chaos. Angry shouts and hurried incantations for shield charms rang out as the festival-goers scrambled to react to the escalating violence. Mothers grabbed their crying children and pulled them out of danger, while those few witches and wizards who were sober enough apparated away to safety.
"Orion, get back!" Remus ordered, dragging Harry away from the spell-fire. Harry struggled to escape his grip, but the werewolf was much stronger than he was. "We need to find the others," Remus said, his eyes anxiously scanning the crowd. He sighed in relief when he spotted Ted and Andromeda pushing their way towards them through the panicked throng.
"Remus, Orion! Thank Merlin you're safe!" Andromeda exclaimed as soon as she reached them. "Where's Sirius?"
As she spoke Aurors began apparating onto the scene, blasts of red light shooting from their wands as they added their stunning spells to the fray.
"There, look!" Harry pointed, catching sight of Sirius and Hestia fighting alongside the Aurors. He held his wand in one tightly clenched fist as he watched the brawlers be gradually subdued. He knew the fight was no way near as dangerous as any he'd experienced against the Death Eaters and other Dark supporters, but his instincts didn't agree. He wanted to get out there and help, never mind that he was supposed to be a child and that his assistance wasn't necessary. Harry had never been the sort to sit quietly on the side-lines.
Eventually calm was restored without his help. Bruised and bloodied wizards and witches were portkeyed to Saint Mungo's, while the worst offenders were rounded up by Aurors and sent off to the Ministry holding cells. Other ministry officials fanned out through the crowd, asking witnesses for their statements and helping vendors cast reparo charms to fix the wide-spread destruction.
Sirius left Hestia's side to join Harry and the others. "Orion, are you all right?" he asked, checking him for injuries.
"Don't worry, dad, I'm fine," Harry said. "You're the one who's been fighting."
"And we're very grateful for it, Sirius," said a middle-aged wizard in red Auror robes. Harry thought he looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't place him. "It was good to have you watching our backs tonight."
"Thanks, Frank," Sirius said with a genuine smile. "Not that you really needed my help against a few angry drunks."
"They're not exactly Dark Wizards, no, but these sorts of incidents are getting more and more common." The stranger shook his head despairingly. "We Aurors have our work cut out for us. By the way, I hear Amelia's sent you an open invitation to rejoin the squad. Come to a decision on that yet?"
Sirius stared around at the remains of the fight. "After tonight I'm leaning towards a yes."
"Good to hear. We could really use your help," the Auror said, clapping Sirius on the back. "I've got to go report this mess to Mad-Eye, but I hope to see you at the Ministry soon enough." They shook hands before the other wizard strode off to join his colleagues.
"Sirius, are you really thinking of joining back up with the Aurors?" Andromeda asked as soon as the Auror was out of earshot.
"I am," Sirius said. "I've got to do something with my time once this one's off at school." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Why?"
"Nymphadora's set her heart on becoming an Auror trainee as soon as she finishes school," Andromeda said carefully. "You know how it is though… it's very difficult for a half-blood like her to get into the program. Unfortunately I don't really know anyone in the department who would be prepared to use their influence to give her a chance."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Except for me, I suppose."
"Well… yes," Andromeda said with a note of apology in her voice.
Sirius shrugged in response. "All right, I'll try and put in a good word for her once she sends in her application. Even if I decide not to join the squad, I'm sure Frank'll agree to help. Longbottom's a good man."
Harry did a double take at the name, suddenly realising where he recognised the stranger from. He could hardly believe the healthy and hearty Auror Sirius had just spoken to was really Frank Longbottom, a man Harry had last seen lying unresponsive in a hospital bed at Saint Mungo's. His thoughts immediately turned to Neville and how he had turned out after growing up with a proper father, which in turn lead him to wonder whether Alice Longbottom was also alive and in full possession of her sanity. Trying to sort out all the causes and effects made his head ache.
Harry had thought he'd managed to get used to meeting people who were dead in his old world, but now he realised that was nothing more than wishful thinking. Despite having lived in this new world for over three months, he was still encountering people and events that left him shaken. He found it exhausting trying to take every difference into account without ever betraying his shock at all the changes. At least Luna was the same as ever, which was a comfort - Harry's conversation with her had been reassuringly familiar in its sheer oddity.
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts as the music started up again and the crowd went back to eating, drinking and dancing. Apparently brawls really were quite common, since none of the witches and wizards appeared to pay the disturbance any more mind. Once the last of the Aurors left, everyone returned to enjoying themselves. Ted and Andromeda began slow dancing amongst the crowd, while Remus started a discussion on spell theory with a bespectacled wizard and Sirius flirted shamelessly with every witch in the vicinity. He was now the target of even more admiring looks for his part in ending the fight and was clearly loving all the attention.
Harry grinned and left them all to it, heading over to where he spotted Draco and Crabbe at a table with several other pureblood children. They greeted him happily and offered him some of their food, which mostly consisted of sweets. With a shrug he dug into a plate of pumpkin cake and began chatting with the children he used to hate. He was constantly being reminded that things were different in this world and he was trying to take the lesson to heart. Above all he was determined to make the most of his new life and the freedom that came with it. Living with the Dursleys and growing up under the threat of Voldemort, Harry had had few opportunities to explore wizarding society - which made his first Beltane festival truly a night to remember.
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A/N. Hope people enjoyed this chapter. Just to let you know, the next one will have Harry going to Hogwarts (finally!). As always, please, please review!
