Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna
Chapter Ten
AN: I truly appreciate all the consideration given by reviewers after the last chapter. Thanks very much for your support!
This chapter contains a few short items penned by Gabi-hime. If you have not read her fanfiction, you should do so.
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"A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can." - Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
On Tuesday morning, a very beautiful brown owl delivered a lovely sealed envelope to Harry Potter in the Great Hall. Harry had received quite a bit of mail of late, and much of it had been rerouted to his new quarters directly.
This letter had been made to arrive in public, however. Harry, Fleur, and Hermione remained outwardly stoic as they received it; across the hall, Draco Malfoy was visited by the same owl.
His letter was already red.
After the enraged tongue-lashing given to Draco by the howler, which had the entire hall laughing at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's furious commentary on their son's childishness, the trio opened their own correspondence.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I must extend my most profound regrets for the hurtful and damaging remarks made by my son in reference to the esteemed persons of Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Potter. His statements were entirely uncalled for and admittedly were quite unseemly behavior for a young man of his situation. I beg your gracious leniency in forgiving him of his trespasses. I am embarrassed to admit that he is still a child with little concern for the seriousness of his position. I have had cause to redress him on the subject of family honor and sincerely hope that this will be the last time you have to waste your valuable time in consideration of his poor behavior.
Again, I thank you for your tact in bringing this matter to me directly, and I hope that in future the Potters and the Malfoys may have the pleasure of a more cordial relationship than we have had in past times. The world is only so large, after all.
Congratulations on assuming your proper place as rightful head of the Potter family, sir. I look forward to meeting you in proper society.
I remain,
Lucius Malfoy
They managed not to laugh out loud themselves, but did engage in some sporting reflections on Lucius Malfoy's prose.
As for Draco's letter, it was repeated in small selections around Hogwarts for the remainder of the week.
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Neville Longbottom was anxious about the next Hogsmeade visit. To those who knew him in passing, this would hardly merit any surprise; Neville was usually anxious about almost everything it seemed, and interaction with his peers in an unsupervised environment would naturally head the list. He could be worried about being gently bullied into spending the "honorably meager" allowance granted to him by his grandmother. He might be concerned about Friday's double potions class and a possible detention that would prevent him from leaving the castle. He could even be concerned about embarrassing himself around his friend Harry Potter's two wives, particularly the pretty French witch.
There was some element of truth in all three, but that last one hit closest to the mark. In fact, Neville was not concerned about making a fool of himself in front of Harry's dates. He was worried about making a fool of himself in front of his own.
Tuesday's potions with the Slytherins had been different from the usual torture for Neville. Before class, the Slytherins themselves seemed rather subdued, and mostly refrained from snide remarks about the Gryffindors. This might be attributed to Draco's letter from his father, or simply from Harry Potter's popular ascendency, but it was a nice change for Neville. Once Professor Snape entered, however, things rapidly went downhill.
"Where are Potter and Granger?" Snape's voice was cold with anger. Undoubtedly the howler had already put him on edge.
When silence had met this question, he had asked it again, even more angrily this time. The Gryffindors had just looked at each other; none of them knew anything about this absence in advance.
While trying to make himself unnoticeable, Neville had had the misfortune to knock his pestle off the table, after which it made a very loud impact with the dungeon floor. Instantly Snape's eyes had been upon him.
"Longbottom, answer my question. Where are Potter and Granger?"
When Neville remained silent, Snape grew livid.
"Longbottom, answer the question! Where are Potter and Granger and why aren't they here?" Snape was genuinely infuriated now.
Neville had looked at the Professor, then taken a deep breath. At times like this, he really wished he did not have to be afraid, but even though he was, this needed to be said.
"S-sir," he had said haltingly, meeting the older man's gaze, "I believe that it is Mr. and Mrs. Potter now." In the shocked silence that followed his assertion, Neville had followed up quickly. "But I don't know where they are, Professor. I thought they were on their way to class this afternoon."
Having said that, Neville had retrieved his pestle and set about organizing his workspace. He had not looked up at Snape.
Snape, for his part, had contained his shaking anger and turned to the board to begin the lesson.
Neville had survived the lesson and produced a passable potion; once class was over, he headed out into the hallway, only to be congratulated by his housemates for his incredible show of pluck. Suddenly they had all gone quiet as a Slytherin broke ranks and walked over.
Lee Jordan had given a low, appreciative whistle. "I think she wants to talk to you, Longbottom."
Swallowing, Neville had looked a smiling Daphne Greengrass in the eye. "H-hello Ms. Greengrass."
She had cut him off with a laugh at that point. "Ms. Greengrass? Really Longbottom, you've got the rest of these monkeys beat hands-down for manners." Neville had flushed crimson as she had leaned forward and said softly, "I rather like that, you know."
Choosing brevity, Neville had merely replied with, "I'm glad, then."
The blonde had then shaken her head and dampened her lips with her tongue. "Neville, you don't mind if I call you Neville do you?" She took his nervous nod in stride. "I don't have a date to Hogsmeade this weekend. Would you mind escorting me?"
Neville was so focused on her eyelashes that he almost could not frame a reply, but luckily was able to keep eye contact. "Well, I'd be glad to! That is, I would be happy to escort you, um," once again Neville had found himself wishing that he was a bit braver, like his housemates, "Daphne." He did not wince when saying her first name, but it was a near thing.
She had smiled again, a sweet, adorable smile he thought, before replying. "It's a date, then. Thanks Neville. See you around." Then she had turned and walked away, and Neville had watched. Carefully.
And that had been that - followed of course by enthusiastic catcalls from every male Gryffindor in the hallway, which were repeated ad infinitum in the common room that evening.
Even Harry Potter had patted him on the back and congratulated him. Neville had found that to be a very welcome experience.
No word on why they weren't in class, though.
Now, at least, he had something new to worry about. What was he going to do in Hogsmeade with Daphne Greengrass, anyway?
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Winky looked over the plate of croissants with a critical eye, alert for any sign of overbrowning. They were fresh from the ovens, only moments away from delivery to her master and mistresses.
If they passed muster, of course.
"Winky," Dobby's voice called out over the hubbub of the busy kitchen, "Coffees and teas is ready. Is you wanting to go bring breakfast to the great Harry Potter's family?"
Dobby sounded very pleased with himself. He often did these days; the Hogwarts elves were generally very fond of Harry Potter, and his newfound soul bond had only made them more reverent. As the trusted confidante of the great wizard Harry Potter, Dobby was only too happy to relate how considerate and kind "Miss Fleurs" and "Miss Herminee" were to him.
House elves generally showed deep respect for familial connections and hospitality; the Potter trio's clear mutual affection and kind regard for Winky and Dobby was much praised around the castle.
Dobby was happier than he had ever been. Winky, on the other hand, was rather troubled.
Weeks ago, she had been very upset when her mistress, the former Miss Granger, asked questions about Master Crouch. She had cried and carried on, and in the end had answered no questions at all. Her mistress had assured her that Winky's happiness was paramount, and that if she did not want to speak of her former master, she need not ever do so.
Now that Winky had had time to reflect, she could not help but be aware how different her life was with her new family as opposed to her old one. She was never given anything remotely resembling a disagreeable chore, she was thanked for basically everything she did, and she was even given a place at the table for meals whenever her family was in their rooms.
Maybe it was just Dobby's viciously honest appraisal of his former masters, the Malfoys, but Winky was beginning to accept that things had not been very nice before.
Master Crouch had made her do many strange things, things she knew were very ugly and maybe even wrong. She had been sworn to secrecy, and even under a new master such an oath was almost impossible to crack.
But every day that she spent around her new family she felt the urge to break that secrecy more. She didn't even know whether they wanted to know anymore. Maybe she could talk about it soon, if they asked.
Maybe.
"Winky? Is you being all right today?" Dobby's concerned tone shook her from her musings. He was still holding the tray with coffee and tea.
"Winky is being very fine, Dobby. Breakfast is done; we can bring it to the master and mistresses now." Reassured by her own businesslike tone, Winky focused on the matter at hand.
No need for her family to starve while she puzzled this out.
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Dear Mr. Potter,
I hope that this missive finds you and yours very well indeed! Congratulations on your recent marriage to those two lovely ladies, about whom too many ill words have been written. My friends and I were so pleased to read the news in the Daily Prophet! We are all hoping that you return to your proper station in wizarding Britain-
Dear Mr., Mrs., and Mrs. Potter,
Many happy returns on the joyous occasion! My own niece was just married herself in a marvelous ceremony, her only and dearest wish was that you three could have been in attendance! Naturally I advised her that you were all very busy with school and tournaments and the like, and that surely you would not be able to escape even for such an event as this! We do hope that in the future we might be able to visit-
Dear Mrs. Fleur Potter, née Delacour,
It is with complete contrition that I write this letter humbly begging your forgiveness for the dreadful letter owled by my daughter to you some weeks ago. Her words were ill-chosen and poorly intentioned, and I have of course taught her the error of her ways. Please accept my family's most humble apologies for her insulting behavior-
Mr. Harry Potter,
Sir, we offer our congratulations to you on the occasion of your marriage and legal adulthood. As an adult in wizarding Britain, there are a great many opportunities for a man such as yourself to find projects worthy of your consideration for investment. I have such a project to outline for you here! My firm is interested in pursuing the bottling of muggle electricity as a form of refreshing, invigorating beverage for general consumption by the wizarding public. We believe we can offer an easy 200% profit margin in the first year, less advertising fees! For this project to get off the ground, we would only require a starting sum amounting to-
Mr. Harry Potter,
You wily scallywag, you. I see you're set on making sure that there'll be plenty of little Potters in the next generation, what with your two pretty little wives. I'm writing you this letter today to tell you what an inspiration you are to those of us who someday aspire to have two wives of our own-
Mrs. Harry Potter, née Granger,
Our heartfelt congratulations for your recent magical wedding! I am writing to advise you of our work involving the distribution of textbooks for the students of Britain who, like yourself, come from muggle parentage. These texts include all manner of proper forms of behavior and dress common to wizards and witches in this great nation, and have proven invaluable to earlier generations of students. We ask your consideration for a small donation of your choosing-
Dear Mr. Potter,
Congratulations on your recent marriage! As you are known to be a Quidditch-loving young gentleman, we would like to offer you the usage of our soon-to-be-released line of products for broom maintenance and repair as a courtesy-
"Seriously, how many of these things are there?" Harry groaned as he leaned back from the table to rub his eyes. The deluge of letters had begun the day after Skeeter's article had gone out, and had not showed any signs of stopping since then.
"We just need to review a few more, Harry," Hermione noted from behind her own stack. "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon, and I don't want to be late."
"If we let them build up, it will get out of control." Fleur noted as she set a magical form-letter reply onto the letter at the top of the stack. "We need to make ze appearance of availability for now."
"Good thing Hedwig doesn't have to deliver all of them, anyway. She'd likely nip my fingers off." Harry grumbled as he attached a polite form reply of his own to yet another "business offer." His owl was busy enough with official correspondence and letters to the more prominent families.
Only a few days in, and it all seemed quite ridiculous. "You both think this will die down then?"
"Yes Harry, it will. Plus it's ever so much easier since we got all the form replies working, isn't it?" The brown-haired girl noted as she sent off another reply.
The young wizard had to agree with that. Fleur had created a base magical reply template and they had all worked on a few form responses; it beat working on two dozen letters a day anyway. It really only took a half-hour or so to sort through it all.
They had all agreed to work on it personally, rather than farming it out to some letter-answering service, in order to have complete control over what it was Harry Potter and his family were saying to people.
"If we can't trust Dumbledore, then we need to capitalize on all this positive attention ourselves," Hermione had stated. Fleur had concurred, adding that popular regard was basically a priceless commodity in politics.
Harry had agreed after a brief argument, and then had thrown himself into it after admitting they were right; in fact both girls had noted that his letters were by far the most personal and polite.
Not quite as polite as Lucius Malfoy's reply on Tuesday had been, though. Harry smiled and looked over at the binder where he'd placed it. The contrast between his letter and Draco's howler made the whole experience that much better, really.
Casting the whole thing as "old family" business had been a good decision; Lucius Malfoy had to discipline his son publicly and make further remarks to the Potters by Draco a subject of intense scrutiny.
It had only been two days, but Draco seemed quite shut up by the whole affair. It was very pleasant.
Harry had never dealt with his fame before. Fleur and Hermione had helped him to understand that he would need political clout if he wanted a trial for Sirius, at the very least. All three of them worried about the prophecy, but popular regard could not but be helpful if Voldemort made an appearance.
Harry took another letter off the dwindling stack. If he could do some good for Sirius, make the case that Veela were to be regarded as regular magical citizens, and maybe eventually stop idiots from calling Hermione a mudblood behind her back, it would be worth some effort on his part. At least he seemed to have a knack for it.
Harry,
Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.
Both Fleur and Hermione felt Harry's alarm and anticipation through the bond. He looked up and met their eyes, grinning. "It's Sirius. He wants us to meet him this Saturday."
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The trio headed down to lunch while discussing the matter of Sirius Black over their bond.
"I think we should get him a place to live. Do you think he could live at one of our houses?" Harry asked thoughtfully.
"We haven't seen them yet, but it has got to be better than him wandering the countryside looking for food." Hermione commented.
"Perhaps over ze break for Easter?" Fleur suggested. "We could all go away for ze week."
Harry thought that one over. He had never left for the Easter holiday; having a holiday with both Hermione and Fleur seemed too good to be true.
"I think I'd like that," he sent.
Hermione's response was warm. "Maybe we can visit our families for a day or two as well."
They were all about to sit down and Harry was ready to reply in the affirmative when he heard a very angry shout coming his way.
"Potter, why weren't you in my class? With your lack of proficiency you need all the instruction you can get." Snape's eyes were narrow, and his voice dropped. "Although you seem to do well enough at stealing from my stores."
Harry and Hermione shared a bemused grin, while Fleur just looked perplexed.
"Answer me!" He snapped.
"Well, we, that is Hermione and myself, will not be attending your class ever again," Harry replied calmly, trying not to smile too broadly.
"Is that so, Potter?"
They were once again the center of attention as Snape's voice grew angrier. Ron, seated next to Seamus, went wide-eyed.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your attitude, Potter. Be in class Friday, both of you!"
"I don't think we will be," Harry stated. Next to him, Hermione took his arm and nodded in agreement.
"Time for the Dumbledore signal?" Harry joked over the bond.
"He's got to be good for this, at least," Hermione replied.
Snape had an expression of disbelief on his face. "Potter, your insolence is-"
Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand, which actually shocked Snape into silence. "Why don't we take this up with the Headmaster, then?"
"Potter, both of you, detention! This is absolutely-" Snape's frothing anger was suddenly cut down by a word from the head table.
"Severus," the headmaster intoned very seriously over his lunch, "Let's speak in my office."
Looking as though he had swallowed a peach pit, Snape jerked his head in reply and turned to follow Dumbledore from the hall. At the headmaster's motion, Harry and Hermione followed.
"Enjoy lunch, Fleur. Hopefully this won't take very long." Hermione sent.
"Do let me know if Snape begins weeping," the blond witch replied.
Hermione could not help but snort and giggle audibly as she left the hall on Harry's arm.
Back at the table, Fleur sat down to lunch with a serene expression and began hunting for something light. All around, students were totally uncertain about how to approach her. Finally Ginny Weasley found the nerve to speak.
"What was all that about, anyway?"
Fleur's smirk had every male in a five-meter radius feeling dizzy. "Just putting ze professor in 'is place."
None of them had anything to say about that.
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They had been in Dumbledore's office for ten minutes already, and Harry had to hand it to Snape: he was every bit the child that he always accused Harry himself of being.
"You know, in retrospect I'm not surprised I set his robes on fire. I certainly don't regret it. I'm sorry for all the times I told you to respect professors unconditionally," Hermione commented as she observed Snape shouting at the headmaster.
Harry chuckled at Hermione's rundown of the situation.
"Is there something funny here, Potter?" Snape turned to regard the young wizard with a furious gaze.
"Not at all. Please carry on." Harry gestured toward a frowning Dumbledore and kept his expression carefully neutral.
"Severus," the headmaster broke in to divert the younger professor's attention, "understand that young Harry is well within his rights to ask for private tuition. He has my personal support here as well. Is there some issue I have overlooked?" Dumbledore looked dispassionately over his glasses.
"He's definitely on our side in this one," Harry sent.
"He had better be. We'll see what he says when you announce you'll be leaving Hogwarts for the next holiday."
"I doubt he'll be very happy about it."
"The boy has no respect for the laws of this school, headmaster. This will only contribute to further poor behavior on his part." Snape took a moment to swipe his hair back. "I know that he has been stealing from my private stores. Boomslang skin and gillyweed at least."
"Is this true, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.
"I do not know what he is talking about, sir. I don't think I've ever even heard of gillyweed before." Harry replied honestly.
"I would like to make a request, headmaster," Hermione spoke up.
"Yes, Mrs. Potter? What might that be?" Dumbledore voice was genial. Snape's frustrated expression had not changed.
"May we go, that is, Harry and I? You appear to have made your decision, and we do not want to interfere in a matter of staff discipline." The witch's voice was prim and even.
"That was a good one, love. You know, I find it hard to believe that Snape entered my name in the competition."
"I agree, it doesn't seem like him. He's just too petty. You know he rather reminds me of Ron sometimes, if Ron happened to be good at potions."
"By the way, ze Weasley boy is making a mess of 'is lunch even now. Might these table manners be a stand-in for ze greasy hair?" Fleur sent from the great hall.
It took all Harry's willpower not to laugh; he covered for himself by standing.
"May we go, headmaster?"
The old man looked at him for a moment before responding. "Yes, you both run along. Give my regards to the absentee Mrs. Potter as well." Dumbledore waved them out of the office and turned back to the still-fuming Snape.
Harry and Hermione departed. The headmaster had mentioned that he had a possible tutor for them; they would need to meet with Dumbledore privately once more before making any decisions.
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"I just don't trust that girl," Ginny Weasley commented as she peeked surreptitiously, or rather what she thought of as surreptitiously, around the shelves of the small jewelry store in Hogsmeade. "Come on, they must have walked out while we were looking around."
"Were you looking around?" Luna Lovegood asked pleasantly. "I thought you were sneaking."
"Luna," Ginny began impatiently as she herded her friend out the doorway, "We are not sneaking. We're looking out for Neville."
Luna said nothing, but instead merely stared at her red-haired friend silently.
It was a pleasant day in Hogsmeade, and most students were taking time to stroll around a bit before heading indoors for shopping or a snack. With the second task of the tournament and its associated drama finally behind them, everyone was looking ahead to the final round of the Triwizard Tournament. The fifth and seventh year students at all three schools were busiest, naturally, but even they were glad for the day off. Gossip, never in short supply in one school, much less three, was flitting around faster than thought: Harry Potter's marriage, speculations on his love life, envy from boys drooling over Fleur, and talk about next year's Gryffindors if Harry and Hermione chose to move to France headed the list. There is always room for more chatter, however, and the Longbottom/Greengrass date was hotly debated in many quarters.
Ginny had forcibly recruited her Ravenclaw friend in order to monitor Neville Longbottom's much talked-about date with Daphne Greengrass; Luna had offered no resistance, but had asked several pointed questions about why exactly Ginny was so interested.
The youngest Weasley had done her best to dodge that line of inquiry; honestly, she felt a bit of loyalty to Neville for his unfailingly polite escort at the Yule Ball. He had danced well, too. She didn't think she was in love with him, but she definitely did not want to see Daphne manipulate him for some dubious purpose. Neville deserved better than that. Hearing her friend's comments, Ginny decided to fight back.
"I notice you've been spending quite a bit of time around Neville recently, Luna. Maybe you're the one who's worried about Daphne Greengrass?"
It was true; Luna was very often to be found in Neville's company in school. She talked quite freely about all manner of strange things, which never seemed to bother the young wizard; in turn, she was pleased to listen to his thoughts about botany generally and magical botany in particular.
"Neville has been kind enough to walk me to class and study with me, Ginevra," the smaller girl noted calmly, "though he has not yet bought one of those small tin animals for me, he will not be getting one for Daphne Greengrass."
"You don't think so?" Ginny replied uncertainly.
"How could I think otherwise? Oh look, there they are." The small blonde girl gestured in the direction of the Three Broomsticks; Daphne was leading Neville toward the entryway.
Before Ginny could reply, Luna had already walked away, heading directly toward the unlikely Slytherin/Gryffindor duo.
Then she called out to them.
"Neville!" The Ravenclaw girl waved lazily. "Might you wait a few moments?"
Neville turned around and waved back, smiling at the younger girl. "Hello Luna!" At his side, Daphne frowned momentarily before smiling pleasantly.
"Hello Ms. Lovegood, having a pleasant day?"
Luna nodded her head thoughtfully before replying. "I believe so, Ms. Greengrass. My friend Ginevra Weasley has been a little anxious however." She inclined her head vaguely as Ginny walked up with an awkward smile on her face.
"Hello Neville, Daphne. Having a good day?" Ginny bit her lip slightly.
The young wizard smiled kindly and nodded. "Yes, thanks very much."
"Anxious? Why Ginny, are you quite well?" Daphne leaned forward to examine the younger girl, who was now blushing. Luna, leaning casually to observe, abruptly tripped and fell forward. Neville caught her handily.
"Are you all right, Luna?" He asked worriedly.
"Just frightening the nargles, Neville," she said calmly as her wide, unblinking eyes met his own. "They need a good scare, lest they interfere." She paused a beat, then continued, "Your arms are very comfortable, you know."
He swallowed audibly and flushed, then set her gently back on her feet. Luna placed a finger over his lips before he could stammer a reply. "There's no need to say anything, Neville. A gentleman must needs gracefully accept compliments from ladies." She glanced over at a red-faced Ginny and an impatient Daphne. "Would you like to have lunch with us?"
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Sitting in the Three Broomsticks across from Neville Longbottom, waiting for her dessert to arrive, Daphne Greengrass had to concede a grudging respect for Luna Lovegood. As one girl to another, she was strong enough to admit that she had been totally outmaneuvered.
Within moments of entering the building, the seemingly dotty Ravenclaw had daintily sidestepped Daphne and gotten Neville to take her arm. At the booth, she carefully pulled him to sit beside her by lowering herself onto the seat while holding his hand, muttering something about dentygores hiding exclusively in varnished walnut.
Neville had only rarely taken his eyes off of the small blonde girl, and now that he was her captive at the table, his left hand was firmly clasped in her right.
Daphne was not angry, though. In truth, it was intensely amusing to watch Neville Longbottom trying so earnestly to be polite and considerate while so clearly being flustered by the younger girl's attention. While some of her fellow housemates could be very polite when they wanted to be, rarely were they as kind as Neville.
Daphne was not angry with Luna. She was, however, a little jealous; Neville Longbottom had been quite a gentleman on their brief date, and was better read and more articulate than she would have thought. Gryffindor girls clearly don't know what they're missing, she reflected.
Next to her, Ginny seemed unsure how to react to Luna's flirting with Neville; Daphne made sure to engage her in conversation to smooth things over. Much to her surprise, the Weasley daughter was quite chatty about her Arithmancy studies, once she had gotten over her initial reluctance. There was definitely an element of uncertainty and distrust between them, but Daphne had expected that; many pureblood families were notoriously uncharitable about the Weasleys, and Arthur Weasley was known to be very proud of his family. It had clearly carried over to his children, and that was something she respected.
This inter-house friendship was really not as difficult as people made it out to be. In fact, if she was simply friendly with Longbottom and the youngest Weasley, that could itself be more convincing than dating someone. Everyone can appreciate someone who seems non-threatening, and once word got around that Luna Lovegood had stolen Daphne's date, it would be easy to have Ginny Weasley help her spin it the right way to evoke gentle amusement and sympathy from the Gryffindor girls.
Daphne looked across the table and met Luna's gaze. As the younger girl smiled absently, Daphne was certain she saw clear understanding in those grey eyes.
A tactical withdrawal, then. The campaign would go on.
"Hello then, nice dining party you have here, Neville! I think the other guys are going to be pretty jealous." Harry Potter called out as he placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder.
"Don't tease him, Harry!" Hermione said. "Good afternoon Neville, Luna," she looked around the table and nodded in greeting, but caught herself staring at Luna's hand over Neville's. "Ginny, Daphne," she finished awkwardly.
"Just being honest Hermione; did you see Dean Thomas over there? He looked like he was ready to boil over."
"Where is Fleur, Harry?" Daphne asked, eager to move the conversation along.
"Over getting our basket from the kitchen. We're having a little picnic today." He replied easily.
"I hope you aren't doing that because people are bothering you three, Harry," Ginny said nervously.
"No, we're fine," Hermione stated. "Just wanted some time alone, and it is a nice day after all."
"I hope you enjoy the company then," Luna's voice was even.
Harry's eyes widened a moment before he was able to conceal his surprise. Fleur rescued him as she walked over.
"We will 'ave a very fine time on our picnic, Luna," she said over his shoulder. "'Arry, could you take zis for me?" She gestured toward the overly large basket in her hands.
"Sure, Fleur," he smiled. "Well, have fun! We'll see you back at the castle."
"Thanks, Harry," Neville managed, still looking a bit nervous.
"Enjoy yourselves, you three," Daphne said.
"Thanks for saying hi," Ginny said, looking a little more comfortable.
Luna just smiled dreamily and waved with her left hand.
Her right, after all, was still occupied.
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"So do you think anyone's going to start rumors about Neville's three girlfriends now?"
"Harry!" Hermione called as she swatted him on the shoulder. "Poor Neville would die of embarrassment."
"I think that ze little Ms. Lovegood looks to be ze only girlfriend, anyway." Fleur commented as she looked around the lane.
"Really?" Harry sent with surprise. "You think so, Fleur?" He asked audibly.
"I saw her holding his hand," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Who knows though? I'm sure no one expected her to ask Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball; she's hard to get a read on."
"She likes 'im," Fleur said definitively.
"Well, I hope so. Neville seems to like walking her around the castle." Harry squinted, then looked around carefully. "This is the place. Do either of you see him?"
"He's very reliable," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "There, upwind. He hasn't seen us yet."
"Do you think 'e will like me?" Fleur sent.
"Trust me, he'll like you," Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.
"Hello there Snuffles. Want us to follow you?" Harry called out as the large black dog bounded into the lane. The dog nodded in reply and took off away from the path.
The trio followed behind as Padfoot ran along further and further from town, watching carefully for possible observers. After fifteen minutes of walking the dog led them into a small cave; Harry followed with his wand at the ready, a lumos cast.
Harry's first thought was that Sirius looked thin, very thin. Despite his condition, the marauder's eyes were bright as he smiled at his godson.
"Harry, it's great to see you! Sorry you have to see me this way, but I'm glad you three could come." He looked over and nodded approvingly at Hermione and Fleur. "I've been scrounging through the papers lately; congratulations, all of you. It's wonderful news. And thank you two girls very much for being there for my godson." Sirius' voice caught a little on his last remark, and he coughed and turned nervously to cover it.
"We're the lucky ones here, Sirius. Harry is wonderful," Hermione said cheerfully.
"Sirius, I know you've met Hermione of course, but this is Fleur. Fleur Potter." He smiled softly as he held out his hand for the older girl to grasp. "Formerly Delacour."
"Mrs. Potter," Sirius began with a smile, "It's wonderful to meet one of my godson's beautiful wives. I only wish it could be under better circumstances."
"Mr. Black," she began.
"Sirius, please!" The gentleman interjected as Harry and Hermione grinned at each other. "I do hate to feel old."
"Sirius, then," Fleur continued with some amusement, "We 'ave brought some supplies for you," she said as she gestured to the picnic basket behind them.
"Real food!" Sirius' eyes gleamed. "Sorry, it's been mostly scavenging and rats for me here. I managed to transfigure Buckbeak's feathers black so he could head out to fend for himself." He gestured to the basket. "Do you mind terribly?"
"Of course not, Sirius! Eat, and we can talk." Harry walked over to begin unloading the fare.
Sirius was served (and scourgified) by the trio, much to his amusement. "This is the best day in Hogsmeade I've had since Hogwarts!" He laughed, shaking his head.
After he had sated his immediate hunger, he consciously pulled back and regarded the three visitors speculatively.
"I really want to tell him about us setting him up in one of the houses," Harry sent to the girls.
"Go ahead, Harry. Dobby says he can definitely have the place ready in time." Hermione added.
"I know you are excited to 'elp him, love."
"Sirius," Harry began, "I know you wanted to meet us, but I have a great idea."
"What is it, Harry?"
"I've inherited a few houses, and I want you to be able to hide out in one. You know, instead of being here. We can sneak you in, have Dobby bring you food; you can be safe and comfortable while we try to sort out the whole mess with Wormtail and your trial!" Harry was very excited, and looked to his godfather for approval.
"Well," Sirius looked a little concerned, "I'd love to get out of this cave, but I don't know if I want to drag you into this any more. You could go to prison if I was ever found out."
"But we'll take every precaution! No one has access to the properties but me, Fleur, and Hermione. They've been shut up for years." He leaned forward anxiously. "You're my family, Sirius. I want to help."
The older man had to look away at that; he rubbed away a few tears before he could reply. "Harry," he said slowly, looking at the floor of the cave, "I love you, and I wish I could help you. It's the greatest compliment you could pay to me, the words you just said, really. I worry that I will get you into more trouble. I already failed you once, the night Lily and James..." His voice died, then he shook his head and continued. "That night all those years ago, and then I failed again last year with Peter." He looked Harry in the eye; both of them were on the brink of tears. "I don't want to fail you any more than I already have."
"Sirius!" Harry choked out. Over the bond, both girls were sending encouragement.
"I think that you would be 'elping 'im more by being safe, somewhere 'e can find you when he needs," Fleur said as she took Harry's hand in her own.
"I agree. Plus, we think we might be able to visit over Easter, saying we were going to stay at one of Harry's houses," Hermione offered. "Harry, well, all of us I guess, could use another tutor."
"Especially one we can trust," the young wizard added.
Sirius looked over the three of them and smiled softly. "Thanks, all of you. Harry, you're a hell of a lucky wizard. Lucky as your dad was, it looks like." He looked approvingly over the two witches. "I'll do it, but we need to make sure the houses are properly warded. It'll be pricey, but make sure the goblins redo them all. Not just one, but all of them, otherwise it will look suspicious. Once I get there I can start doing some work of my own." He seemed a bit frustrated for a moment. "Too bad I can't cast the Fidelius charm."
"I already have the goblins working on warding; I'll make sure they'll be done before the holiday."
Hermione looked interested. "You know, I've done a bit of reading..."
"A bit?" Harry sent amusedly.
"Perhaps she is remembering improperly, 'Arry."
"You two!" Hermione said, miffed. "Anyway, I know it's quite complicated, but I think that Fleur and I can pull it off with a day or two to cast."
Sirius was looking at them with an expression of amazement on his face. He shook his head, then replied. "You two, cast it together? Are you connected mentally through the soul bond?" As they all nodded in return, he brought a hand to his forehead in shock. "Merlin. That's incredible, you three. You know this will be a really powerful asset, right?"
"We do, but we need someone who can help us work on it for spells and fighting, someone tricky," Harry's mouth became a line, "Someone who has enough mental discipline to stay sane after twelve years in Azkaban." He paused and watched his godfather carefully. "Will you help us?"
"I'll do what I can, Harry, definitely. You may want to bring someone else in on this though."
Hermione's face lit up with realization. "Professor Lupin!"
Sirius nodded. "I did a good bit of improvisation in our time, during the last war, but Moony's a great hand for tactics. Really a master of spell application."
"This is ze other marauder?" Fleur commented. At their nods of agreement, she continued. "Then we can contact 'im this week. It would not be unusual for your parents' friend to meet with you over the 'oliday, yes 'Arry?"
"Sounds good to me," Harry said, now quite excited.
"We should make sure he gets paid, Harry. You know werewolves have a very hard time of it," Hermione said.
"True enough, and Moony's never one for charity," Sirius added.
"We'll set Fleur on him," Harry laughed. "She's the best at that." He smiled at the silver-blond haired girl.
"She's the negotiator in the family," Hermione explained, looking at Fleur happily.
"Speaking of, what's this about you divvying up the money from selling that basilisk?" Sirius looked curious.
Harry nodded at Fleur, who spoke. "Well, there were a few victims. Some were ghosts, and one was a cat. The people who were 'armed, none of them were purebloods. There was 'Ermione, Colin Creevy, the Finch-Fletchley boy, and Penelope Clearwater. 'Ermione forfeited her part of the money-"
"Because really, I happened to fall into a very good situation," the brown-eyed girl in question grinned as she squeezed Harry's arm.
Fleur smiled and continued, "We included one share for 'Ogwarts, one for Ronald Weasley, and one for ze young lady, Ginny Weasley."
"So what's the reasoning there, you three?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"Filch will be getting a raise and a nice retirement fund out of it, which should keep him off our backs," Harry noted hopefully. "Plus, Penelope Clearwater is dating Percy Weasley; it's pretty serious apparently."
"So," Sirius looked thoughtful, "You managed to bypass Arthur's pride for once? He'll have two children with quite a bit of money, plus a possible daughter-in-law?"
Harry nodded. "That was the idea. Once I found out about the inheritance, I realized I didn't need it anyway. Mrs. Weasley has not been particularly kind about Fleur or Hermione, but the Weasleys have been very good to me."
"This seemed like the best way to help without being too obvious. I don't think Mr. Weasley can refuse, and naturally his children will help out their family whenever it's needed." Hermione added.
"As for the others, well, a little goodwill in the old pureblood style seemed like a good way to impress the Slytherins." Harry grinned wryly.
"Agreed, Harry." His godfather looked impressed. "I know it's the sort of 'I don't care about money' gesture that my parents would have appreciated anyway." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Anyway, the reason I asked you to come out here." He took a breath. "We need to talk about the Triwizard Tournament, and what exactly is going on out there."
"Well," Harry began, "We know that Mr. Crouch was in Hogwarts sometime in the weeks after the Yule Ball. We saw his name on the Marauder's Map." He winced. "Almost got caught, too."
"And 'e is known to be ill and not working. The Weasley brother, Percy, was here at the Yule Ball and spoke of it to us."
"Plus, someone broke into Snape's office, and he has been claiming that Harry's been stealing from his private stores." Hermione added.
"And you never actually saw Crouch?" Sirius asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, not since. We've not been looking or anything though. We were out to get Skeeter."
"You might want to start, but be damned careful." Then he grinned. "Nice work with Skeeter, then. You three got her to write those articles?" The trio looked pleased. "Not bad, not bad at all. Maybe you can be the Marauders' next generation then."
"Well, Hermione has been pretty willing to break the rules lately..." Harry offered in mock-seriousness.
"Honestly!" The brown-haired witch in question huffed. "It's only the ones that are really a problem."
The other three occupants of the cave snickered.
"It's all right, love. You can be as rebellious as you like outside of ze library."
Hermione rolled her eyes in reply.
"Anyway, you three need to look into this. Crouch was never the sort of a man to act this way; tough as nails, even put his own son in Azkaban." The wizard frowned. "Pitiless man. I saw Crouch and his wife visit just before his son died there. But this business about Fudge covering for him, Percy Weasley taking his place, him not being seen... it's all too odd. And then there's Bertha Jorkins disappearing on holiday, and this muggle, Bryce, killed under odd circumstances."
"Moody said that he was never one to trust any death eaters, Crouch I mean. Do you think," Harry hesitated, "Do you think it might be related to Voldemort?"
All of them looked solemn. "I don't know, Harry, but with some unknown person confounding the Goblet of Fire and entering you into this tournament, it's a possibility. Wasn't it your wand that was used to cast the dark mark at the World Cup?"
"Yeah, it was. They said Winky did it, Crouch's house elf."
"I don't know," Hermione said doubtfully.
"She was very worried about speaking about 'er master's secrets, 'Ermione." Fleur regarded the younger witch seriously. "Perhaps we can ask her again."
Hermione looked troubled, but nodded. "It might be best, if she does know something. Give me a few days to think how we should ask her, though. She was so upset last time."
"She's your elf now?" Sirius looked surprised.
"Yes, Winky and Dobby both," Harry replied.
Sirius looked thoughtful. "Well, that's handy. Basically no students have an elf of their own, and absolutely none at Hogwarts."
"Do you think it is because Dobby and Winky consider 'Arry's home to be 'Ogwarts?"
"Maybe. It's definitely not normal, so make the most of it. They can save your life."
Hermione looked like she wanted to ask more about it, but refrained. "It doesn't seem like Crouch would be a man who would voluntarily work for Voldemort. He dismissed Winky without a second thought just on the suspicion that she was involved in something dark."
"You're right about that. Something's up, and we don't have enough information. Keep your eyes peeled when you get back to the castle, and let me know about the holiday. I can help you prepare for the last task at least, whatever it is." He glanced at Fleur. "That goes for my godson's wife as well, of course."
She flashed a winning smile at him. "I knew that 'e got 'is charm from somewhere, Sirius."
"With any luck, I'll be a little more charming once I can take a shower."
"One other thing," Harry said. "Snape." As soon as he said the name, both girls felt the resentment over their bond.
"When we found out about his office being broken into, Moody was there. He said Snape was a death eater, and Dumbledore confirmed it." Hermione looked uncomfortable.
"Snape is the one who overheard the prophecy and gave it to Voldemort." Anger crept into Fleur's voice. "That man is the one responsible for the death of 'Arry's parents."
"Prophecy?" Sirius asked.
Harry looked at the two girls, then explained what Dumbledore had told them. Shock was evident on Sirius's face; then he became angry. "That bastard. So he ratted them out, then went running to Dumbledore after..." He ground his teeth. "Once Lily was dead."
Harry looked concerned. "Why my mother?" When his godfather did not reply, he asked again, more insistently, "Why Sirius? Why after she died?"
"Harry, remember that this might be hard for him."
"Your godfather is still a fugitive, my love, and this must be a terrible memory. Give 'im time if he is nervous about answering."
"I know, really. I just... I just want to know why he did it." Harry took a moment to calm down. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm just... I just get worked up about it. Snape has been after me ever since first year, and it has only gotten worse since."
"Sorry, Harry. It's just that Dumbledore didn't every tell me anything about this prophecy; neither did James and Lily." Sirius had the ghost of a smile on his face. "It's bad memories. I don't mind telling you, but just don't take this to Snape; he's tougher than he seems. He... well, he was sort of after Lily."
Harry's eyes went wide, and his wives moved closer to offer comfort.
"It's true; he was. Your father was, well, we all were pretty rough with pranks, and Snivellus was never very likable. Your mother defended him, at least until he turned around and insulted her too, called her a mudblood. Eventually James stopped being such a fool and went after her, and she ended up going with him." Sirius's voice dropped. "She was very special, brilliant and beautiful, no tolerance for fools. I think we were all a little in love with her." He smiled and seemed to be looking past the three of them. "James was good for her, though. Helped her move outside the box, changed things up for her. Brought a little chaos into her life."
At this the older man stood and paced a few steps, clearly caught up in the recollection. "They married right off, you know, right out of school. James was so bloody happy, he was like a whole different man. Lily was just radiant... You weren't long after. James was the last living Potter, and everyone thought they'd do great things together, what with Lily being so well-known as a prodigy in school. Neither of them was afraid of Voldemort; they were working with the rest of us even after they went under the Fidelius."
Harry had both girls next to him; all three were hanging on Sirius's story, hearing the raw emotion pent up in the man for all those years of captivity.
"When they were killed, that night... when I knew it was Peter... I think I lost my mind. I would've been happier to have died with them. Sometimes, many times," his face looked very thin, his eyes dark, "I wished that I had, thought that I had. There was nothing for me. The time I spent in Azkaban... it wasn't enough to make up for how much I failed." He shook his head to dispel the memory. "You were there, Harry, and everything went wrong. Your parents lived and fought and died to defend you, to make a place for you. They loved you, both of them. No matter what mistakes the rest of us have made, they did their absolute best for you. I'm proud and happy every day because I can see just what a fine son they have now. And now you have this damned prophecy hanging over your head, and the tournament, and Voldemort… I don't want to screw this up. I want to help you."
He choked up and had to look away again. Fleur and Hermione held Harry wordlessly for a moment before he stood up and walked over to embrace Sirius. The older man wept a little as they held each other. Fleur and Hermione stood by, feeling the overwhelming relief flooding from their husband and crying themselves.
It was a while before any of them spoke again.
"I found out a few other things, Sirius. Dumbledore is the one who decided to send me to the Dursleys. He halted my inheritance, made sure I wasn't placed with a wizarding family. He says he did it for a reason." Harry's voice was bitter. "Between that and holding out on telling me the prophecy, I don't trust him the way I did. I can't."
"Nor should you, love," Fleur said comfortingly, giving him a small kiss. "Ze 'eadmaster is a powerful wizard, but 'e is not infallible. We will always be 'ere with you."
"We love you, Harry, both of us do. We'll get through this together. You know you can count on your godfather too." Hermione smiled at Sirius.
Sirius looked very troubled by this revelation. "I believe you, and we definitely need to keep Dumbledore as an ally if possible, but if he really trusts Snape I don't know how much I can trust him either. Albus has a whole lot of clout, and he really was one of the few people Voldemort was afraid of dueling, but he doesn't keep too many people in his confidence. I hope Snape isn't one of them." He paused for a moment and frowned. "I'll tell Remus all of this too, once we get in touch with him. He owes Dumbledore a lot, though, and he might be harder to convince than me." Now Sirius looked a little happier. "But try not to worry. I'll do everything I can to help you and the girls, Harry. I'll teach you everything I can. One day, after we clear up this death sentence, I'd be proud to stand out in the open and call you my godson."
"I know, Sirius. Thanks. I'd never have made it without you, all of you." He looked around at his godfather and his two wives, and felt very much at home, hopeful about the future. "I'll try to deal with Snape for now by just... keeping an eye on him. We'll focus on getting through this tournament. I'll rely on the people I know I can trust."
HPHPHPHP
The trio left Sirius with promises of communication coming soon, along with food to be delivered by Dobby. They had stayed as late as possible without arousing any suspicion, and were making their way back to the castle when Harry was hailed by Viktor Krum, who was jogging over to them from the area of the Black Lake.
"Harry, I vould like to speak with you." He looked significantly at Hermione and Fleur. "Alone."
"Am I being paranoid...?"
"Darling, I am almost sure 'e is not trying to 'urt you." Fleur noted.
"I agree. Viktor's not given any indication that he's a bad guy really, but be careful anyway. We have the bond." Hermione agreed.
"Be careful, 'Arry," Fleur echoed.
"I will. I really hope we're right about him," Harry sent. "All right, Viktor. Hermione, Fleur, I'll see you in a bit." He waited for the girls to bid Viktor good evening. "So?"
"Over here," the older wizard started walking toward the forest. "Don't vant to be overheard."
"He's leading me to the forest. Looks grumpy, but that's all."
"He does seem rather out-of-sorts," the brown-haired witch commented.
Once they arrived in the shadow of the trees, Viktor stopped and turned to regard the green-eyed wizard. "I have seen my headmaster acting very odd lately." Krum's frown deepened. "Very odd. He has been speaking with one of your professors, the Slytherin potions professor, often. Although it is not often spoken of, I know that Karkaroff vas once a death eater. He has been very focused on his arm, the one where the dark mark vould likely be."
Harry's eyes widened. Snape was chatting with another death eater? One who was interested in his old magical mark? He thought back to the awful dream over the summer, the one he was hard-pressed to think of as just a dream.
Voldemort. Could his waxing strength have something to do with the Durmstrang headmaster's arm?
"Ze dark mark was known to be more than just a simple charm, 'Arry. It was tied to 'im."
"She's right Harry. This could be important."
"Viktor," Harry began with a serious expression, "Thanks. I mean it. I don't know what this means exactly, but things have been happening this year that, well, they look pretty dangerous."
"The World Cup attack?" Krum asked. At Harry's nod, he continued. "And you say someone else entered your name in the Goblet of Fire, yes?"
"It wasn't me. Moody thinks it might be someone out to kill me."
"It could be. Vell, you've done a great job so far," the Bulgarian boy cracked a smile. "Your flying in the first task was really incredible."
Harry could not but feel proud at the seeker's praise. "Thanks, I mean, I saw you at the World Cup you know. I'd never seen anything like it."
"Thanks. Nice to have a compliment from someone like you," Krum replied.
"Someone like-"
Before Harry could finish, both wizards heard a crashing sound from the brush, followed by a wavering voice.
"Weatherby, yes, Weatherby, deliver this missive to the minister at once. At once, I say. Critical business. Absolutely critical."
Standing on the outskirts of the forest, clad in a torn set of robes and covered with lacerations, Barty Crouch was addressing a tree with a completely calm expression. Harry and Viktor looked at each other, then quickly walked over to him.
"Mr. Crouch?" Harry asked tentatively.
"This is the man from your ministry, yes?" Viktor asked.
"Right, he's supposed to be sick." Harry answered. "Fleur, Hermione, Barty Crouch is here. He looks like he's crazed; talking to a tree right now."
"Crouch? Here? Get him to the infirmary, Harry! We'll get Dumbledore."
"Something is very wrong here. He looks like he's been tortured or something."
"Be safe, love. We are going to get the 'eadmaster now."
"Viktor, if you don't mind I am going to call my house elf to take us right by the infirmary, all right?"
"Your elf? You haff an elf? And he can apparate at a school?" He looked astonished.
"Please keep it quiet for me," Harry asked sincerely. Krum waited a moment before nodding.
"Sure. But you must tell me more about this later."
Harry winced. "I'll try." He turned to look worriedly at Crouch, who was now staring at him with a desperate expression.
"Dumbledore! I need to get to Dumbledore! You're not one of his are you? Are you?"
"Dobby!" Harry called in alarm. When the little elf appeared, Harry quickly explained the situation and ordered Crouch to be brought to the infirmary first. Dobby disappeared with the older wizard, then popped back to take Harry.
"He'll be right back for you," Harry said to the older boy.
A few moments later, Harry and Viktor were escorting a confused Barty Crouch into the Hospital Wing.
As the old man babbled, Harry became more and more concerned. Ministry officials did not go mad on a regular basis. With any luck, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey would be able to find out what had happened to Crouch; they might even get a clue as to what he was doing in Hogwarts earlier in the year.
Somehow, Harry suspected that he was not going to like the answers.