Wrote hard and put up wet, as usual. Don't like, don't read, nothing's mine except the plot, yadda yadda.
Happy Easter for all who celebrate, and a happy holiday for all who don't. :)
Also, holy crap. Did I really only update seven days ago? o_O
Dobby's Deceit
Part 10
Shortly before dinner the common room was a bustling hive of activity. Out of habit, Harry glanced at the messenge boards, taking in the completely filled out attendance list for the Patronus Club, the notice about the first Hogsmeade weekend, and the usual information about curfews, the prefects, and Professor McGonagall's office hours. New was the COMING SOON - Open Slots For Student Newspaper - Big Announcement TONIGHT! note on bright yellow paper, with Lavender and Parvati's names as contacts in small print underneath.
"They'll really do this at dinner?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Hermione and holding out his hand for Crookshanks, who was wallowing on her lap, to give him a high-five. "I can already hear at least one person groaning."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed when the half-kneazle actually tapped Harry's palm with his paw. "When did you teach him that?"
"Just this morning. He's smart!" Harry grinned and shook Crookshank's paw. "How was your day?"
"Exhausting. I worked on the articles about Snape and Sirius Black, reviewed the goblins' contract for photography and talked it over with Colin, and lastly I managed to call Dobby and he agreed to go looking for Hagrid's friend."
"Darius Papageorgiou," Harry said and laughed a little. "Impressive name!"
"He's an impressive man, if Hagrid told me the truth about him. Anyway, Dobby will hopefully be back soon. I already feel guilty for asking for such a huge favour."
Harry put his arm around her. "It's okay, 'Mione. He's capable of saying no if he doesn't have the time or just doesn't want to get involved. As long as he has a choice, it's alright."
"Thank you, Harry." She snuggled against him and sighed with contentment. "I can't believe how much has been going on this year already. By the way, has Professor McGonagall talked to you about missing History classes yet?"
"Nope." Harry carefully shrugged so as not to disturb her comfortable position. "I have no idea if Binns even notices when someone skips it. If he doesn't, I'll take it!"
The long hand of the clock above the fireplace moved forward and Harry took another minute to just breathe and enjoy being with Hermione, before saying, "Say, what are you doing next Sunday?"
Hermione turned her head and quirked an eyebrow. "Getting older. Other than that, not much yet. Why?"
Blushing slightly, Harry swallowed. "I, uh, wanted to do something for your birthday, but I wanted to let you choose. We could have a party with our friends, or we could go and be alone. For a," he lowered his voice, "date. Whatever you like is fine."
Hermione sat up, eyes shining. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course." Harry smiled. "So, what will it be?"
Chewing on her lower lip, Hermione asked, "Would it be greedy to ask for both? I really rather like having breakfast with you, but I never really had a party with friends, either ..."
Harry tutted at himself for not realizing that there really wasn't any need for her to choose, the day being a Sunday and all. "Sure, yes! Great idea, actually! So, breakfast together and in the afternoon cake and a party with everyone?"
She beamed, making Harry feel decidedly wobbly even while sitting. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much!" Happily, Hermione kissed him on the cheek and cuddled back against his side.
"Mate, what was that about?" Seamus asked and plopped down on the sofa across from them.
"Harry is throwing a birthday party for me next Sunday," Hermione said, still smiling brightly. "You're invited, of course."
"Thanks for the notice," Seamus replied with a wince. "I've no idea what to give you for a present, except stuff for studying. Any hints?"
"You don't have to give me anything," Hermione said. "Just come to the party if you want. I like spending time with you this year. And Dean as well."
"Aw, Hermione. Way to make a bloke feel bad. I know I was a tosser to you and Harry last year ... Sorry about that, honestly."
"Thanks for apologizing," Hermione said softly. "That means a lot."
A few yards behind Seamus, Ron was sitting with Ginny and losing badly at Exploding Snap. Harry wouldn't even have paid attention if the sudden lack of explosions hadn't alerted him. Ron was staring at him and looking annoyed, but what really stuck in Harry's craw was the open hostility on Ginny's freckled face, although she schooled her expression quickly.
I guess she's really not over her stupid crush, yet, he thought, involuntarily drawing Hermione a little closer. What am I going to do about the party? I guess we're having it here, so how do I keep them from ruining it for 'Mione? I can't very well exclude them; there'd never be any peace in Gryffindor ever again.
Not that Harry actually expected Ron and Ginny to try and ruin Hermione's birthday, but the last two weeks hadn't been great by any stretch of the imagination and he couldn't help but plan for the worst.
Maybe I'll put up a note on the board and also tell Professor McGonagall. She might look in and discourage anyone who has a problem with Hermione having fun with her friends.
The clock chimed the dinner hour and the whole house jostled to get out of the portrait hole. Lavender and Parvati were already gone, no doubt setting up their presentation in the great hall.
"Do you know the name of the paper already?" Harry whispered in the near silence.
Hermione shook her head. "I left it to them; they deserve the honour."
The students at all tables were looking with rapt attention at the podium, where Lavender, Parvati, and Professor McGonagall were standing. A blackboard was floating above them, a piece of chalk hovering and just waiting for the order to write something down.
"Students, a moment of your time, please," Professor McGonagall called when the last stragglers had sat down. "As you undoubtedly know, one student took it upon herself to found the first ever student newspaper of Hogwarts - Gryffindor's own Lavender Brown!"
The Weasley twins started the applause and most of the students quickly followed, until the noise was almost deafening. The girl in front blushed and curtseyed in pleased embarrassment.
After a minute of that, Professor McGonagall once more motioned for silence. "There was quite a bit of planning involved to get this newspaper up and running so quickly, but we managed. It is my great pleasure to announce that this students newspaper will be independently run by you, the students. Gringotts has agreed to sponsor your newspaper, and I'll be acting as Hogwarts' liaison. As long as this paper exists, the editorial staff and all of its freelancing supporters, as well as the school liaison, will be required to adhere to a charter and swear an oath to that effect. Information on that will be made availabe after dinner is over."
"Have you sworn your oath already, Professor?" Lee Jordan called into the expectant silence.
"As a matter of fact, I have," Professor McGonagall replied. "You'll find the names of all sworn participants in the newspaper's work rooms, which you can find on the third floor, not far from Professor Lupin's classroom. And now I'll cede the floor to Miss Brown for further information."
Once more, clapping and hooting echoed through the great hall.
"Hello, and thank you," Lavender said. She was visibly nervous, but also determined. "The most important thing to you will probably be the name of our newspaper, so let me present to you without further ado the ..." She waved at Parvati, who tapped her wand to a piece of parchment in her hand.
Immediately, the piece of chalk began writing in big, bold letters, "HOGWARTS HEROLD" and the students went wild. Shouts of approval and heavy thumping on the wooden tables made Harry's ears ring for several moments.
"Our first edition will be ten standard newspaper pages long and will be free of charge for Hogwarts students," Lavender called over the noise. "Your parents and whoever else might wish to buy an edition will be charged two knuts. Those proceeds will go to Gringotts and be invested in more and better supplies for the newspaper. We will publish monthly. Should there be more things to report, we'll adjust the schedule accordingly."
Now Parvati stepped forward. "Owing to the fact that running a newspaper is hard work and often stressful, the Hogwarts Herold will count as a school club and be eligible for extra credit in several subjects. For more information about that, please see the message boards in your common rooms after dinner." She smiled and waved at her fidgeting sister at the Ravenclaw table, which earned her a few laughs. "Suggestions leading to improvements to the running of the paper will be credited in the paper, and also be noted on your report cards, as will be notable accomplishments in class. This will most likely improve your chances of finding work or an apprenticeship after graduation. And as we already stated on the flyers on your message boards, there are many open slots to fill, from research assistants to admin support, and, of course, reporters and writers."
"And last but not least: the Hogwarts Herold's articles might be overseen by Professor McGonagall as Hogwarts' liaison, but the teachers in this school have no authority to control what we write and publish, as long as it's covered by the Herold's charter and the international press codex. The same goes for the Ministry. Any attempts in that regard will be prosecuted by Gringotts and their lawyers." Lavender smiled smugly, as if she knew that Snape behind her was glowering murderously at them all. "Any questions?"
Lots of hands went up and Lavender and Parvati settled in to answer a few of them before Professor McGonagall stepped in and adjourned the interrogation until after dinner.
"The Hogwarts Herold has a nice ring to it," Dean said as they filled their plates and goblets. "Swearing an oath will have my mum up in arms, though. She'll want to read it first."
"Mine, too," Seamus agreed, "but it'll be worth it. Also, extra credit! I'm all for earning that with stuff I actually like to do."
"What about you, Neville?" Harry asked the quietly eating boy. "Will you help out?"
Neville shrugged. "Depends on whether my gran will allow it or not. The oath is a good idea, though. I wish the reporters at the Daily Prophet had to swear one."
"What would he even do there," Ron scoffed, scowling. "No one wants to know stuff about stupid plants. Only flubberworms could be worse."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "First of all, that's not true. Magical plants are very useful! Why, in a daily or even weekly edition we could easily print anecdotes about plants as potions ingredients, with cross references to whatever else might come up. Readers remember such things, it could improve the students' studying! So don't you dare tell him that it would be stupid!"
"Besides, who says that's all he could do?" Ginny asked. "There are open positions for research assistants, right? Anyone can research, Ron. Or handling other stuff, like typesetting or filing or whatever."
"Exactly," Hermione huffed. "No one has to write articles if they don't want to. As Lavender said, there's enough work to go around."
"Why would anyone bother with staying behind the scenes?" Ron asked derisively. "It's either go big or go home."
"And you're always going home, eh, Ronnikins?" Fred (or George) asked. He sat down next to Ron, rudely stealing a piece of meatloaf from his brother's plate.
George (or Fred) squeezed in on Ron's other side and took a bite of Ron's mashed potatoes. "Ronnikins has never gone big in his life-"
"-except that one time he managed to eat Percy's whole birthday cake when he was eight." Fred smirked when the people around the little group began to titter. "It had two tiers and weighed about three kilograms ... lots of perfect strawberries and Honeyduke's finest chocolate."
"It was a tragedy," George said dramatically, clutching his chest. "There was wailing and gnashing of teeth-"
"And Ron kept up Mum half the night because he was retching every ten minutes."
Ron turned beet red. "Shut up!"
Amused despite himself, Harry snickered. The teasing lasted through all of dinner, but when it ended, Harry excused himself and followed the twins from the great hall.
"Guys?" he called once they were reasonably alone. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
The twins turned, both sets of eyebrows raised.
"What can we do for you?" George asked.
"Has it got to do with Ron?" Fred added. "Because as much as it pains me to admit it, we might not be skilled enough to beat some sense into him."
"That's just it." Harry looked around and beckoned the two boys to follow him into an empty classroom. He closed the door and cast the Muffliato, causing the red eyebrows to rise even higher. "Ron is acting weird ever since the train ride."
"We noticed," Fred allowed.
"But he's oddly resistant to our attempts to correct his oafish behaviour." George crossed his arms over his chest. "And we're not his parents."
"Wouldn't want such a kid in any case," Fred added. "So, how can we help?"
"Can you, I dunno, ask your parents to have him looked at? Hermione and I joked about it, but what if he caught something in Egypt? A curse maybe?" Harry shrugged sheepishly. "He's never been like this with us before and we're worried, I guess."
"Or he could just be a little prick," Fred snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time, right, George?"
His brother scowled. "Ron has had his moments over the years, but they've always passed."
"We'll be honest." Fred clapped both hands on Harry's shoulders. "He's not the sort of friend I'd want you to pine after. Finnigan and Thomas seem like good blokes, and we've seen you hanging around with Longbottom as well. That one's solid. Ron's ... not."
"Yeah, but why?" Harry asked, anxious. "Ginny I could understand, last year was bad for her, but not Ron."
George shrugged. "Why are we pranking people? Why is Malfoy such a little jerk?"
"Some things just are," Fred concluded. "But, if it'll make you feel better, we'll write dad and ask him to do something about it. Who knows, maybe Ronnikins actually did manage to get cursed in Egypt."
"Would make my year," George smirked.
"Er, can I ask whether your parents have Ginny taken to a doctor yet?" Harry uncomfortably stepped from one foot onto the other. "No one said anything to me; I guess they're not so happy about the stipulations on her trust fund, but I thought it was important."
"It is," George said, grin vanishing. "We haven't noticed mum taking Ginny anywhere during the hols, but then again we were, er, busy. With stuff. I'll find out. Thanks for the gold, in any case, though I'm not sure that Ron and Ginny even deserve it."
"I just want her to get better," Harry muttered. "I sure needed a doctor, and she was possessed for a really long time."
"We'll make sure to find out, Harrikins," George promised.
"Yup, we sure will, after Dumbledore told our parents nearly nothing. Good talk, and good night." Fred saluted Harry and as one, the twins turned on their heels and left the classroom.
oOo
Monday passed in a blur, even with Care of Magical Creatures in unpleasant weather and three demanding classes afterwards. Everybody was on tenterhooks how the first session of the Patronus Club would go. Dumbledore was set to teach, and when it was time for the seventh years to meet in the great hall, a lot of students from the lower years squeezed into corners to watch.
Harry was one of the few not eager to spend an hour watching, mainly because he desperately wanted to read Healer Williams' latest journal entry about the death adders' hatching in peace. He was therefore grateful to have his dorm room to himself and cast a mild repelling charm on the door for good measure.
September 13th, 1993
Harry,
Three of the four eggs have hatched successfully overnight. Only one little one is still fighting. We're all encouraging her, but she refuses help, even though she's a little on the small side. We hope that she'll make it soon. Otherwise we might have to disrespect her wishes, and that wouldn't be a good start in life.
The three hatched adders are beautiful. Their skin is incredibly soft as their scales will only harden after about a month out of the egg. The two males are dark grey with startingly blue accents, and the one female looks like burnished gold with deep pink markings. I apologize in advance that the pictures won't do them justice. What their sister will look like we can only guess, but I thought I saw a dark grey blue and a touch of some sort of violet coulour, maybe lilac.
Head Snake Breeder Tearclaw asked me to remind you that one of the little ones will be named by you, and that you should provide a selection of names at your earliest convenience.
Harry, I really can't tell you how emotional these last twenty-four hours have been for me. Talking to these babies is an experience I won't ever forget. They're already able to hold full conversations, and they're curious! We're rotating parselmouths in to read them stories and explain about our society. I don't think they're too impressed so far, but that's to be expected. Death adders are very particular with whom they bond, and some decide not to bond at all. That's the risk Gringotts has taken on by purchasing the eggs, although the non-bonded adders are still very valuable for breeding and no one here will begrudge you one knut of the money they paid.
Now it's my turn to entertain the little ones. I like their snarky humour and I think you would, too. The pictures are being developed as I write this, so expect a delivery very soon.
All the best (and eternally grateful),
Brady
Harry sighed happily and pressed the journal to his chest for a moment. He couldn't explain why, but he was so glad that something of the basilisk had survived, and that those snakes would be good, and be bonded to good people who did good work.
Then, he wrote his answer.
Brady,
That's awesome! Tell the kids hello from me, and that I'll find them some really cool names to choose from.
I actually noticed that wizarding photographs are a bit pale, compared to mundane photos. Why hasn't anyone invented colour photography yet, or if it exists, why not in Britain? I can't imagine that there isn't a market for it.
Keep me posted on what's going on with the still hatching baby!
-Harry
P.S.: Please stop thanking me; you and your colleagues are doing all the work. I just got lucky by not getting eaten.
Harry put the journal away and got up. The library beckoned, and he was eager to fulfill his part in the honour the goblins were bestowing on him.
Only a few students were seriously studying when Harry slunk into Madam Pince's domain, and none of them paid him any attention.
Remembering what Hermione had taught him about the register, Harry wrote, A book with great names on the page and waited. He didn't expect a huge success, and the two books the register listed were more than enough for him.
The first one was about famous people of Great Britain, which was well enough, except that none of those seemed like a good fit for a pretty little snake lady. Only Maeve, the Irish warrior queen, roused some interest, even if the sound of the name didn't quite excite him.
The next book was far better, as it included names from many countries. The Polynesian name Luana made him think of white beaches and blue sea, but his favourite after three quarters of an hour of flipping through the book was Nara, a Japanese name. For some reason, male names didn't grab his attention at all and he wondered whether that was Magic's way of telling him that he would name one of the females.
Finally having found eight names he felt he could offer, Harry put the books back and left the library again, slowly strolling by the great hall to see whether the club was already done.
To his surprise, Dumbledore was still teaching, although the lesson seemed to be winding down now. None of the students were able to produce one of those silvery animals, which was a pity in Harry's eyes. He still remembered Lupin's patronus vividly, even if he hadn't been able to make out what kind of animal it actually was.
"Thank you for a wonderful first lesson. I'll see you again next week, and until then you'll hopefully all have found a happy memory," Dumbledore said, beaming. "To cheer you up, there will be chocolate to restore your strength - some would say that this is the best part of learning the Patronus Charm. I quite agree."
Quiet laughter could be heard and Harry strained to see over the horde of students clogging the entrance. What of the seventh years he could see seemed to be relaxed, if a bit exhausted, and everyone was eager to get to their house table for dinner. Harry waited for Dumbledore to get up to the teachers' table, but the man lingered and it made his stomach twinge uncomfortably. Deciding that he would rather hide out until the man was gone, Harry turned around to leave the hall.
"There you are," Ginny greeted him, getting in his way. "I thought you'd want to see how the club works, Harry."
"Er, no, I was waiting for tomorrow," Harry said, quickly averting his eyes when Dumbledore looked over. "I'm not really hungry yet, so go, sit down." He made to step around her.
"Harry, a moment please?" Dumbledore called and strolled over. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. He'll join you shortly."
Ginny nodded and walked away.
"Sir?" Harry asked, purposefully keeping his eyes on a spot on the wall.
"I would like to speak to you about some things, not all concerning school," Dumbledore said. "Please see me in my office after dinner."
Knowing that there was no way out of that, Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Splendid," Dumbledore said and went away to take his seat at his table.
A presence at Harry's side startled him, but it was only Hermione.
"Are you well?" she asked with concern. "You look ... spooked. It wasn't Peeves, I hope!"
"No, worse. It was Dumbledore." Harry told her about the summons to the headmaster's office. "I don't want to go there alone. I'm afraid that he ..." His throat closed around the words, preventing him from expressing his fear of being magically manipulated.
Hermione understood him well enough, anyway. "Ask Professor McGonagall to come with you," she said. "She's our head of house. You know the student guide book: the headmaster can't send her away." She lowered her voice. "You said that you're having a lawyer now. They should probably be present, especially when it's about magical guardian stuff."
"You're right. I panicked for a moment there." Harry swallowed. "I never thought I'd be afraid of Dumbledore, but-"
"He hasn't given you many reasons to trust him since the summer," Hermione replied matter of factly. "Don't feel guilty for that. It's normal, Harry." She took his arm and gently led him to the Gryffindor table. Instead of sitting with their friends, she chose the very end closest to the door and cast a Muffliato around them. "You're probably not very hungry now. That man should've waited; everyone's worried when they're asked to see the headmaster!"
"Professor McGonagall's not here yet," Harry fretted. "How will I contact her?"
Hermione smiled slyly. "We've got a few options now, Harry. Hogwarts elf, please."
A small elf with huge ears and brown eyes appeared promptly. It was clearly female and was dressed in a clean, white tea towel. "How may Tilly serve?" it squeaked.
"Oh hey, you brought tea on Saturday, in Snape's office!" Harry smiled. "Nice to see you again, and to learn your name."
Tilly's huge eyes stared unblinkingly at Harry. "Tilly did, Harry Potter sir. It be nice talking to Harry Potter sir."
"Tilly, we'd like you to take a message to Professor McGonagall. Can you do that?" Hermione asked.
"Tilly can." When Hermione moved to find a scrap of paper and a pen, she piped up, "Tilly be very good with verbal messages, Miss."
"Oh! In that case, please tell her that the headmaster has asked to see Harry in his office after dinner, and that Harry requests her presence."
"Tilly be delivering message right away, Miss!"
"Thank you." Hermione laughed when the little thing popped away. "She's adorable."
"Thanks for helping me out. I'm a mess," Harry sighed. "I really ... panicked. Huh."
"Don't mention it," Hermione replied. "Really, Harry, he creeps me out, too. Your reaction to him is ... it's visceral, and it's sort of catching. I'm getting nervous just seeing you fret."
"Sorry about that." Harry listlessly played with his plateful of white bean soup. "I know that you really admired him."
"I did," Hermione conceded, "but that was his public persona. Right now, I wouldn't want to be alone with him either, and I'll ask for Professor McGonagall's presence if he ever asks to see me."
Just to spite the man, Harry waited until dinner was officially over and the tables were completely cleared. Professor McGonagall was waiting for him at the door, her gaze critical and a little worried.
"Would you like to tell me why you're not comfortable speaking alone with Professor Dumbledore?" she asked quietly.
Harry was aware of the listening ears, but he answered her anyway. "I don't like his interest in me, Professor. I'm afraid he'll try to cancel my electives after all ... or try something else."
"That won't happen, Potter. Come along and let's see what this is about."
Far too soon in Harry's opinion they reached the gargoyle, and to his dismay it jumped aside without Professor McGonagall having to give a password.
"Ah, Harry ... and Minerva." Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise at seeing her. "May I ask what brought you here?"
Professor McGonagall levelled a look at Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter asked me to accompany him, and as his head of house I couldn't refuse his request."
"Well, I'm afraid that quite a few of the topics I wanted to discuss have nothing to do with school ... as I've stated when I asked Harry to visit me." Now Dumbledore's tone was definitely reproachful.
"Be that as it may, Albus, when a student asks for my presence, I'm obligated to follow their wishes." To Harry, she said, "My oath to the school forbids me to reveal anything private I might learn, as long as it is not a matter for law enforcement."
"That's fine, please stay," Harry said quickly.
"Harry, my boy ..." Dumbledore sighed but didn't say more when Professor McGonagall's lips pursed. "Of course, if that's your wish. Now, the first thing I wanted to talk about is the money you settled on Sir Nicholas, Fawkes, and Mrs. Norris."
"Oh, not that again, Albus," Professor McGonagall snapped. "So what if the lad sold that thrice damned beast to the goblins?"
"It's not so much the sale, but what's been done with the money," Dumbledore said placatingly. "The goblins helpfully pointed out the circumstance of Harry's generous gift to the petrified students, but you'll agree that neither Sir Nicholas, nor Fawkes, or Mrs. Norris can count as people. They represent Hogwarts in one way or other and it saddened me greatly that the school as such didn't get a portion."
"Maybe Hogwarts shouldn't have tried to kill Mr. Potter on several occasions, then," Professor McGonagall countered pitilessly. "Fawkes came to Mr. Potter's rescue, true, but he was rewarded for it and doesn't seem to have an issue with how Mr. Potter has decided to handle the matter."
"Due to a conflict of interest, it is impossible for me to act as your magical guardian in this instance, Harry, but I implore you to rethink your decision," Dumbledore pressed. "Hogwarts is always in needs of funds; just listening to the chatter these last two weeks showed how many improvements our beloved school needs, beginning but certainly not ending with better brooms for the Quidditch teams."
"Again, that's not Potter's responsibility," Professor McGonagall said, getting impatient. "Please stop bullying the boy for money. If you need some, go to the Minister. He's been cutting funds for years, anyway."
"Hogwarts has always prided itself on its independence," Dumbledore said soothingly, "and to keep it that way it relies on private gifts."
Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Stop right here, Albus. I won't have you make the boy feel guilty for failings that fall into your purview. The money belongs to Mr. Potter. He earned it and our laws are very clear on that matter. Additionally, he's still a minor and shouldn't be pressured to make such decisions without legal council, anyway. Don't do it again, I'm warning you."
"Very well, if Harry has nothing to add ..." Harry shook his head dumbly and Dumbledore sighed, the very picture of disappointment. "On to the next topic, then. It came to my attention that your first few lessons with Professors Babbling and Vectra went very well. I'll expect you to work hard, Harry, and will be disappointed if your grade will be lesser than EE at the end of the year."
"I like the subjects," Harry said by way of an answer, still not looking at Dumbledore but at the desk, as if fascinated by the trinkets on it.
Professor McGonagall's gimlet eye twitched, but she said nothing.
"Then you won't have any problems." Dumbledore shuffled some papers before continuing, "It also came to my attention that your friendship with Ron Weasley has been ... strained. It worries me that you'd let two years of friendship languish so. Would you mind telling me what the matter seems to be?"
Harry wondered what Dumbledore thought he could do, but shrugged and replied, "He's been a prat since the train ride. He insulted Hermione, threatened her pet, and is always starting fights. No one likes him right now."
"Now, now, I'm sure that's just a misunderstanding," Dumbledore murmured. "Young boys always find some thing to fight about. I spoke with Ronald, of course, and must say that I'm a bit disappointed that you seem to distrust him so. Locking your trunk against him ... that's been hard on him. He regards you as a brother, you see."
"Well, maybe my supposed brother shouldn't have taken my stuff without asking, then," Harry said, getting angry.
Professor McGonagall sucked in a breath. "Is that true, Mr. Potter?"
"Well, yes. But I took care of it and it won't happen again. Dean and Seamus and Neville are doing it, too." Rebelliously, Harry added, "Will you ask them to let Ron go through their things as well?"
"That was uncalled for, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "And of course not. I was merely trying to find the root cause of your estrangement."
"Tread carefully, Albus, because I heard you imply the same thing Mr. Potter did," Professor McGonagall warned. "I'm not comfortable with you discussing Mr. Potter's friendships in any case. As his magical guardian it might be your privilege to offer advice, should he seek it. However, any heavy-handed input is bound to be ignored, as I'm sure you know is par for the course for teenagers. Leave the children to sort things out among themselves first ... like you did last year, when the whole school was harassing Mr. Potter for allegedly opening the Chamber of Secrets."
"Minerva-"
"Albus," she cut him of frostily. "In all his years with his muggle relatives, you haven't taken an interest in Mr. Potter's affairs. Not once, even though you knew that they were the worst sort of muggles. Frankly, it is suspicious that you're starting to meddle now, and in matters that are not your concern."
"I always had Mr. Potter's best interests at heart," Dumbledore protested.
Chancing a quick glance, Harry saw him flush with temper.
"Well, I'm not buying it, and I'll keep watch now, Albus. I'll also warn the goblins to do the same, because after witnessing this 'talk' I'm forced to assume that you wanted to cheat Mr. Potter out of a substantial amount of galleons, and emotionally blackmail him into continuing a friendship that he's decided to put on probation." Professor McGonagall glared. "Shall I ask Filius what the Horde's view on stealing from, and the harassing of a child is?"
Dumbledore spluttered. "Where is all of this coming from, Minerva? You've known me for decades!"
"Yes, and I'm not blind." Professor McGonagall stood. "Leave the children out of your power plays with the Ministry, and do try to actually do right by Mr. Potter. You could start with signing his Hogsmeade permission slip. As Mr. Potter's magical guardian," Harry wondered how often she would stress that point until the meeting was over, "that's one of the things you're actually entitled to manage, and I can't see a reason to deny him the pleasure when the aurors will watch over the outings. Do you, Albus?"
"No, of course not." Dumbledore rather reluctantly opened a drawer and took out a sheet of parchment. "I simply have forgotten to sign it amidst my power games with the Ministry." He tried to catch Harry's eye and smiled crookedly. "Unfortunately I wasn't as victorious as I'd have liked; the dementors got stationed around the grounds anyway."
Harry didn't know what to make of it, but the form was signed and Professor McGonagall accepted it with a nod.
"If that was all?" she asked.
Dumbledore sighed. "For the moment, yes. Please accompany Harry to the common room, Minerva. Severus is patrolling tonight and I'd like to avoid further unpleasantness from that quarter."
Only after the gargoyle had settled in place and was closing the way up to Dumbledore's office, could Harry really breathe again, and only then did he notice how clammy his hands and forehead were.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, a worried frown marring her forehead.
"Yes." Harry cleared his throat. "Thank you ... for everything you've said."
She put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards Gryffindor tower. A few corridors away from the Fat Lady's portrait, she stopped in front of a portrait depicting a kitten that was transforming into a soup bowl and back.
"Do you feel comfortable coming into my quarters for a moment?" Professor McGonagall asked. "It's not exactly proper, but my office was too far out of the way."
"I don't mind," Harry said quickly and climbed through the portrait hole once she had given the password.
After bidding him to sit on one of the two armchairs in front of the roaring fire of her fireplace, Professor McGonagall got straight to the point, as usual. "Do you mind telling me what had you scared practically witless in the headmaster's presence, Mr. Potter?"
"I-" Harry's throat closed up again and he gasped. A shallow pain in chest followed.
"Oh, Merlin. Sit down, Potter. Here, drink some water ... I think I'd better check for mischief."
Harry endured several revealing spells while he sipped the cold water and breathed a sigh of relief when Professor McGonagall didn't find anything.
"No compulsions or mind hexes. That was an honest bout of panic there, lad," she said just as relieved and much softer than before. "Talk to me."
"It's ... I heard about ..." Harry's stomach sommersaulted but he forced it out anyway. "Spell hooks. The Imperius. Over the summer."
She blanched and sat back in her chair. "What?"
"I'm afraid of ... people cursing me," Harry said miserably. "Dumbledore's tried to control me, he obviously wants my money, and he's powerful. It'd be easy for him to-"
"He'd never-" Professor McGonagall caught herself and took a deep breath. "I apologize. Truthfully, I can't say that your fear is unfounded. I understand you, only too well, I'm afraid." She reached out and took one of Harry's clammy hands in his. "Oh, lad. I wish this weren't something you'd need to worry about."
"Isn't there something I can do?" Harry asked, trying to recover his composure and, he admitted it to himself, his dignity.
"Those curses are labelled dark for a reason," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "And I'm furious with myself for not noticing what a danger they are to you. But there are some things one can do to prevent being caught unawares."
"Will you teach me?" Harry pleaded.
"I will." She nodded firmly. "And with your permission, I'll be bringing Professor Flitwick and Professor Lupin on board, as well. For your peace of mind, I'll compose an oath to protect your privacy, but I'm afraid that my oath to the school will supersede it if challenged."
"It's alright, I'll take it," Harry said. "Thank you, so much."
"Bah, I should've never bought into Dumbledore's claims that you need as normal a childhood as you could get. What you needed was thorough schooling, and we all dropped the ball on that."
"But at least I was hidden from Voldemort and his people," Harry murmured. "When can we start?"
"Not tonight," Professor McGonagall said firmly, quelling his protest with just a look. "Tonight, I've checked you for curses. Allow yourself to be content with that, and give me some time to make arrangements. I'll send notice when we're ready to begin."
"Sorry," Harry said, ashamed. "It's just ... pushing me."
"What?" McGonagall stilled. "What is pushing you? Your magic?" At Harry's small nod, she blanched again and cursed. "I've been so stupid. Last of your line; of course it's pushing you ... I can't believe I didn't see-" Her stare became fiery. "Potter, follow my lead. Out with your wand."
Perplexed, Harry did as he was told. In a matter of minutes, he'd learned the revealing spell the professor had used on him and nervously cast it on her.
"Uhm ... you're looking like a Christmas tree, Professor," he said, gaping at the tendrils of orange and pale blue magic that were winding around her body. "What is that?"
"One is my ... it's a personal charm," she replied, face stony. "The blue one, however, isn't mine. If I had to guess, it's a very subtle mind-altering spell, and if I had to guess again, it's got to do with you." She motioned for Harry to end the revealing spell, which he did, but only reluctantly.
"What will you do about it?" Harry asked, worried. "Do you know who cast it?"
"No, but I can guess. Here, take this pen and paper ... I need you to write a note for me. Sign it with your name and the date and time."
"Why am I writing it, Professor?" he asked.
"Because, if I'm right, the spell might make me write something entirely different in a bid to protect itself," she answered so matter-of-factly that Harry's stomach clenched in horror. "A letter from you will carry weight, however. Now please write ..."
Harry followed Professor McGonagall's directions. His whole body felt jittery with nerves and outrage on her behalf, so much so that he ruined his first attempt and had to start over. The note, at least, was short and to the point: It asked Professor McGonagall's friend Amy for a meeting and a check-up for 'the usual'. Harry signed and dated it, exhaling harshly when he was done.
"Five points for being a quick study, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said grimly, motioning for him to write the directions on an envelope she summoned from a small secretary desk. "Remember that spell and use it often. Maybe also use it on classmates, if their behaviour inexplicably changes."
"I'll teach it to Hermione," Harry replied, still fighting his fight-or-flight response to their discovery. "She notices a lot of things. And maybe Neville, if he wants. It's unfair, but not many people think of him as a threat."
"In this instance, it can only be to our benefit." Professor McGonagall rose from her chair. "On behalf on Hogwarts, and even more so for myself, I sincerely apologize for not stepping up to help you through everything that's been going on. I'll get to the bottom of this, I promise, and then heads will roll."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, standing when she rose from her chair. "That means a lot. Last year was ... it was difficult."
"I know, lad." She smiled at him, not so grimly this time, but her eyes were still flinty. "Before we leave my quarters, I ask that you'll cast that spell on me as well. Do it randomly, and send my friend Amy these requests whenever you find something. Will you do that for me?"
Stunned, Harry could barely nod.
"Good. Then come, it's getting late."
She accompanied him to the common room and then strode off in the direction of the owlery.
Hermione was by Harry's side immediately. Her keen eyes took in his pallor and the shell-shocked tremor in his hands.
"It didn't go well, I take it?" she murmured. "Come, let's sit down here ... Muffliato! Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not here," Harry replied, surreptitiously looking around and noting the many curious eyes on them. "Tomorrow. Let's meet you-know-where."
"Alright. Can I hug you?"
"Please." Harry shifted in the old armchair Hermione had sat him down in and accepted her weight in his lap. His arms went around her and he hid his face against her shoulder. "That feels really good."
"Yes," Hermione agreed softly, gently pulling him even closer and carding her fingers through his unruly hair.
Far too soon, the prefects sent the younger years to bed. Harry wished that he could keep cuddling with Hermione, but he also needed to tell his godfather what was going on at Hogwarts.
That won't go over well, Harry thought miserably as he spelled his teeth clean. I hate having to worry him. Maybe I should write Brady as well, he can help calm Sirius down.
Back in the dorm, Ron showed him the cold shoulder. The boy didn't talk to anyone, just climbed into bed and yanked the hangings shut, followed by a surprisingly strong privacy charm.
"Does anybody else want to know what he's up to?" Dean asked, eyeing Ron's bed suspiciously.
Harry sighed and cast his own privacy charm around them. "I talked to Fred and George and asked them to write to their parents to have him checked out."
"Seriously?" Seamus hooted. "How did they take it?"
"Well, they said that Ron had his moments before this, but they'll do it. No idea what will come of it, though." Harry checked that his trunk was firmly locked before sitting on his bed. "Maybe it'll just be a howler from Mrs. Weasley."
"Even if it's just that, you did all you could as his friend," Neville said quietly. "The rest is up to family."
"Don't worry about it so much anymore," Seamus advised. "It'll either get better, or it won't, but you'll know what to do in any case."
"Will I?" Harry asked wrily.
"Yup. You'll figure it out," Dean said and jumped onto his bed. "Night, guys!"
One after the other the bed hangings closed and privacy charms were cast. Harry only followed when everything was quiet, and then he scrambled to get Sirius' journal and a pen out of his bag. It took far longer than anticipated to write everything down, so he asked his godfather to share with Sharptooth. Healer Williams, he wanted to contact himself.
After copying and pasting everything he had told Sirius, Harry added, I don't feel safe at Hogwarts anymore. Professor McGonagall suspects Dumbledore of mind-charming her, and I'll have to teach at least Hermione how to detect spell hooks, and I'm really freaking out right now. Professor McGonagall even had me write a letter to a friend she trusts because apparently the spell can make her change what she's writing to protect itself. It's bloody scary.
Healer Williams' answer came quickly.
Harry,
This is terrible news. I'm so, so sorry that it caught you unawares like this, and not even two weeks into your school year. I can only imagine what Sirius and Sharptooth will come up with, but you can trust them to do what's best for you.
In the meantime, I'll send you a book about revealing charms and spells. It's good that Professor McGonagall and her colleagues will teach you, and that she takes your concerns so seriously, but you shouldn't depend on just that. If your family magic is pushing you, the situation is at the very least pressing, if not dire, and we can't allow it to continue.
If I could, I'd come to Hogwarts and teach you myself, but failing that, I'll do my best to support you, and the Nation will, as well. At least you have Hogsmeade privileges now, which means that we can meet every now and then.
To make a glum eveninghopefully a little brighter, I can report that the little adders are all well, even if the little princess is still stuck in her egg and refusing to come out. Her hissed insults are quite inventive for one so young. You'd find it hilarious, I'm sure!
All the best,
Brady
P.S.: If you need help with sleeping, call Dobby. It won't help anyone if you're not awake and alert.
Knowing that there was no way around it, Harry called for Dobby.
"Hey," he greeted his friend when he appeared on his bed. "Did you get back from Greece alright? Did you find Hagrid's friend?"
"Dobby did," the elf said smugly. "Dobby be delivering Miss Mione's letter. Mr. Papageorgiou be sending answer back with his own house elf."
"Awesome!" That little bit of good news did a lot to cheer Harry up. "Uhm, Dobby, would you please put a sleeping charm on me? And, uhm, maybe ward the bed against other people?"
Dobby instantly looked alarmed, ears raised and eyes as wide as he could make them go. "Harry Potter sir be in danger?"
"Sort of ... it's a long story. Brady can tell you," Harry replied. "Will you do it, please?"
"Dobby will. Dobby be right back."
"What?"
With a snap of his fingers, the elf vanished without giving an answer, and Harry could do little else but wait, fidgeting and glancing at the two journals, who remained ominously inactive.
After only a short while, which felt like a fright-filled eternity for Harry, Dobby was back. In his hands, he clutched three little snakes, and an egg, and he had stuffed a sheaf of photos under one arm.
"No," Harry whispered. "Dobby!"
Dobby let the beautiful little snakelings loose. They slithered over Harry's comforter, tiny tongues flicking out and tasting the air and everything that was in their way. The journals interested all of them, but soon they were wallowing in Harry's lap and hissing nonsense.
"Healer Williams be telling Dobby that Harry Potter sir be needing emotional and actual support snakes. Little death snakelings be volunteering. Head breeder not be daring to refuse. It be settled."
"God," Harry sighed. Carefully, he let the three snakes scent his fingers. The dark gold female immediately wound around his wrist as if she owned it. "But, thank you."
"We make you feel better," the female hissed. "We listen to Favourite talk about threat to you, so we come here. We bite evil people."
"I'm probably overreacting right now," Harry confessed, "but my magic is feeling upset."
"It is upheaval," she replied, sounding wise and snotty at the same time. "This place not feel very good. Many shadows."
Her brothers hissed in agreement. Both raised their dark heads, vying for Harry's attention now and seeking his warmth. The lone egg in Dobby's small hands looked almost sad. Harry carefully took it as well and petted the broken leathery shell. A single orange, glowing eye stared back at him through the crack.
"Thank you, Dobby. And thanks for the pictures as well. Uhm, when does Gringotts expect the adders back?"
Dobby bounced on his feet. "Healer Williams not be saying. It be implied that it be as long as Harry Potter sir be needing support snakes."
Harry snorted at the absurdity of having a support snake, be it emotional or actual, let alone four. "For the next year or so, then. Great. Gringotts'll want the money back." The three snakes around his wrists and forearms were surprisingly warm and soft, and actually rather soothing. "Oh well."
"Dobby be coming back in an hour," the house elf decided. "Maybe Harry Potter sir be able to go to sleep without help. Dobby be warding bed now."
"Thank you, Dobby. Have a good night."
Dobby grinned and popped away.
"Er, I'm really grateful for your company, but how will we do this?" Harry asked the snakes. "I don't want to accidentally squish you."
"You won't," the female hissed. "We are protected by goblin magic. We sleep in your bed. You will bathe little sister in your magic. She is stubborn."
"Not ready," the little snake in her egg hissed petulantly. "Make it warm, Harry."
"Make it warm, Harry," her brothers parroted, winding closer and tucking their tiny heads into his armpits. In the dark, their blue markings shimmered and changed in beguiling shades of turquoise and ice blue.
Harry got the impression that they would be far easier to manage than the females.
"Okay, if you're sure," he said. Carefully, he pulled the comforter up and snuggled in. The egg he placed in front of his stomach, were it was warmest. "Please don't bite me in your sleep."
"No worry, Harry," the golden female hissed in contentment. "We like you. Rest now."
To his surprise, Harry's eyelids grew heavier and heavier in a matter of minutes. To warm his little companions, he pushed magic at them, seeking out their little signatures and wrapping them up snugly. Sleep carried him away easily, and while he did have vivid dreams, it was also restful and refreshing.
oOo
Hermione was already waiting for him when Harry gingerly stepped into the common room. He had all three snakes hidden on his body and the egg in his bag. It had been a scramble to find an adequate warming charm in one of the household charm books he'd bought during the holidays.
"Hey," Hermione whispered and gave Harry a lingering kiss on the cheek. "How are you?"
Harry returned the kiss gratefully. "Better. I even slept okay. Let's go and I'll explain."
In an abandoned corridor, Betty picked them up and brought them to the Come And Go Room, vanishing immediately afterwards with a sad look at Harry.
Inside the room, now a cozy little study with a large fire in the fireplace and a tea service on the coffee table, Harry tugged Hermione to the sofa and pulled her close. Beneath his shirt, the snakes stirred, although they seemed unconcerned about her weight on them.
"Something's wrong here," he murmured into Hermione's hair. "Dumbledore's acting really strangely, and Professor McGonagall told him off, and then she taught me this spell afterwards and we discovered that she's been charmed-"
"Wait, wait, what? Charmed?" Hermione asked, sitting up to face him. "Please start over."
Harry took a deep breath. "Sorry, ah, when me and Professor McGonagall went to see Dumbledore, he tried to send her away. She refused."
"Well, good!" Hermione said.
"Dumbledore tried to ... I guess he tried to ask for money, only McGonagall called it bullying. He said he was disappointed that I wasn't giving Hogwarts any of the basilisk money, and that the school relied on private gifts to better our education."
"Oh, that impossible man!" Hermione scowled fiercely. "How dare he! Has he tried to exert his influence as your guardian?"
"No, he said that he couldn't because of a conflict of interest. Professor McGonagall really laid into him for that, through, and he dropped it." Harry wished, not for the first time, that he had a pensieve to show her exactly what was going on. A master of words he was not.
"That wasn't all, was it?" Hermione asked, peeved.
"No. After that, he said that he's glad about my interest and good work in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and that he expects at least an EE at the end of the year."
Hermione's hair fluffed up like the fur of an angry cat. "He what? He's imposing conditions after first refusing to honour your choice?!"
Harry shrugged weakly. "Yeah, I guess so." Before Hermione could work herself into a full strop, he continued, "And lastly, Dumbledore tried to get me to reconcile with Ron."
"Did he now. How did he even hear about that?" Hermione growled. "And why would he even care?"
"Apparently Ron whined about me and Dumbledore is concerned and disappointed that I'd rather lose my first friend than try to make things right."
"Does he know that Ron was out of line?"
Harry nodded. "I told him. He said it must've been a misunderstanding. Professor McGonagall told him off, said that it wasn't right for him to interfere, and that she finds it suspicious that he's starting to meddle now when he never did before I started Hogwarts. Honestly, I have no idea what's gotten into her, but I sure am grateful."
"And the being charmed part?" Hermione asked after a little pause, during which she visibly digested the news. "What's that about?"
"I kind of panicked again when we finally left Dumbledore's office," Harry admitted. "She took me to her quarters and checked me for spells. She thought that maybe I was under a compulsion spell or something because I was so choked up. I came up clear, but something I said really rattled her and she made me learn that spell and cast it on her."
Hermione stared. She stared for so long that Harry was starting to get afraid that he'd broken her.
"What?" Hermione finally whispered. "Harry-"
"I know," he said, feeling the fury well up again. "Professor McGonagall said that it's some kind of mild mind-altering spell, and that it's probably got to do with me. I am to teach you and Neville that spell, and use it on people, and her, if something seems off ... to see whether they've been charmed without their knowledge."
Hermione raised a trembling hand to her lips. "I can't believe it. Oh my god."
"Hey, I won't let anything happen to you," Harry murmured. "I'll work really hard to find out how to prevent that."
"That's great, Harry, honestly. It's just ... I'm a girl, and there are drugs in the mundane world that allow men to do whatever they like to other people ... usually girls and women." She shuddered. "I've always known that magic can be dangerous. It's just ... it's never hit home like this." She wound her arms around herself and shivered. "What good are karate and krav maga if some idiot can just charm me and-"
Harry's fury roared in his ears when he tried to imagine it. Healer Williams had put it in rather graphic words and as far as he was concerned, it had been enough to last him a lifetime. "I'll murder anyone who tries."
"I'll go to Madam Pomfrey, see what spells she can recommend. I was going to do that anyway, I just haven't found the time yet." Hermione clung tightly to Harry. "That's not how I imagined this morning to go. I thought there would be a lot of righteous indignation about Dumbledore, and maybe a little bitching about Ron. That almost would've been fun. But this ..." She shuddered again.
"Do the other girls also feel like this?" Harry asked.
"Not that I know of," Hermione murmured. "But maybe they already have something arranged. Should I ask?"
"Maybe Parvati would be best," Harry said thoughtfully, "since her family is really old and she's pretty. There's bound to be some unwanted attention, and her family will want to protect her from gold diggers and stuff, right?"
"Right." Hermione pressed a little kiss to Harry's temple. "Thanks for not freaking out because I was freaking out. It's just ... being a girl can be so unfun. It's horrible. And with magic it's even more horrible. God."
"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed. "I don't really get it, but I understand."
"Please tell me that that's all Dumbledore did," Hermione pleaded. "I'm not sure I could take any more bad news."
"No, that was all, but ... huh, I almost forgot. He signed my Hogsmeade permission." Harry brightened. "Professor McGonagall has it, so we can go on real dates!"
"Oh ..." Hermione's eyes became soft and a little wet. "That's wonderful. Did he want something for doing it?"
"Professor McGonagall would've torn him to shreds, but maybe he'll try later." Harry placed his hands carefully around Hermione's face and kissed her very gently on the lips. "Until then, I'll be really happy about it."
"Me, too," she whispered. "It's my turn to treat you."
They smiled at each other. Finally, Harry remembered the tea tray and poured them piping hot cups of tea.
"Since we're here already, should we shift our training to another day?" Hermione asked. "I totally forgot Astronomy because Professor Sinistra was gone until last night, and of course it'll take place on Wednesday, like it did the last two years."
"The day would be too long," Harry agreed with a sigh. "Tuesday is also bad because of the Patronus Club. Thursday, then? And move our weekend meeting from Saturday to Sunday to have a day more in between?"
"That works for me," Hermione replied. She pulled her planner from her bag and changed the entries with a few taps of her wand. Quietly, she confessed, "I don't want to go to class."
"I don't want to go, either." Harry sighed.
He wanted to go home, actually. Back to his cottage, and Sirius, and have Healer Williams over for visits, and take care of the wild garden and the pension the house elves were getting ready for visitors. He could even envision having tutors and meeting regularly with lawyers ... anything to get his sense of peace back.
"What will I tell my parents?" Hermione whispered, wringing her hands. "They will take me home immediately. They should!"
"Yeah, they should," Harry agreed with a heavy heart.
"But first you'll teach me that spell." Hermione raised her chin stubbornly. "And we'll learn spells to defend ourselves. I read about spell cascades the other night; they're difficult to build, but once done ... our magic would react to certain threats by itself, even without us knowing that there is a threat."
"We'll do that," Harry said immediately. "And I got lots of books about occlumency. Maybe we can do that while we meditate before our exercises."
Hermione made some changes to her planner entries. "That's a lot of work. We could do with more hours in the day."
"We'll manage somehow," Harry replied, stroking along Hermione's back and taking a deep breath himself. "I don't want you to have to leave, so I'll work really hard."
"I will, too."
Hermione's breath against Harry's neck was warm and the snakes seemed to like her closeness a lot, if their subtle squirming was any indication. At last, however, they had to get up and leave their little haven. Harry accompanied Hermione to the great hall for breakfast and they endured some well-meaning ribbing about their linked hands. Why no one had outright asked them about it yet was a mystery to Harry, but not one he was willing to solve anytime soon.
After managing to force down some toast and scrambled eggs, Harry returned to the Come And Go Room and let the snakes slither around his study. The egg he put on the desk where the snake within could see him.
"Cold, Harry," she complained. "Need magic fire. Make it warm."
Harry cast the warming charm and pushed his magic along for her to latch on. It was a strange feeling to have her practically suckling on it, but not an unpleasant one. If anything, it was humbling to know that she depended on him to nurture her for a bit until the breeders at Gringotts could take care of her again.
"Shouldn't you be in your nest at Gringotts?" he asked, carefully petting the leathery egg shell. Inside, the snake restlessly wound around itself, making the shell bulge in some places and deflate in others. "They can give you everything you need. I want you to be big and strong like your brothers and sister."
"Not ready," she repeated her words from the night before and flicked her tiny tongue at Harry's thumb. "Harry keep me warm. Harry is nice."
Touched, Harry nodded. "I'll do my best, Sweetie."
"That's not my name," she informed him primly. "But I like."
"Harry make the fire bigger," the golden female hissed, echoed, as usual, by her brothers. "We bathe in fire. Need much heat."
Smiling, Harry sent an Incendio at the fireplace and watched as the three adders dove right in. Their markings flared up, glaring blue for the males and vibrant pink for the female, and their little hisses where rapturous.
Since he didn't have that much time, Harry unpacked Sirius' journal and his pen and started writing.
September 14th, 1993
Good morning Siri,
Sorry for bothering you again so soon. I just wanted to let you know that Brady sent me the basilisk snakelings last night, for all the support, or so he said. They're awesome and really pretty. Right now they're bathing in fire and glowing like gemstones.
Also, Hermione asked whether I could have a lawyer with me whenever Dumbledore wants to talk to me. She's really freaked out about that charm on Professor McGonagall and worried that someone might hurt me ... or her. I'll teach her all the spells Brady will teach me because being a girl is very unfun sometimes and I'm going to kill dumb people who try to hurt her.
Love,
Harry
Despite the early hour, Sirius was already up, and by the appearance of his writing working his way up from angry to furious.
Harry,
Merlin's soiled pants! I'll hire a lawyer justfor that as soon as you've gone to class, and I'll instruct him to take on Hermione as well! Bloody hell - being a muggle-born girl in our society isn't just unfun, it's absolutely inadvisable. Remind me to send you the current law book, you'll have a fully grown nundu!
Before you ask, yes, Sharptooth will probably skin me alive (he tried to calm me down last night and devise a plan to work around outing me as back in the game), but I don't care whether people know who hired them or not. Right now, people don't suspect that we even know each other, and even if they found out, I'd just go back to Gringotts and claim asylum. Thatwould make them sit up and take notice! Additionally, Lawrence already told me that if push came to shove, he could raise enough red tape to keep even the ICW busy for a couple of months, allowing my healing plan to continue as scheduled, just in Italy instead of Britain. Seeing you safe, or at least safer, isn't the least bit inconvenient to me, pup, so be prepared to get a visitor very soon, and a lot of flattering headlines about yours truly in the papers.
Love,
Sirius
Harry swallowed and unsteadily answered, Thanks. I'm so, so glad.
Harry,
don't thank me for doing my job as your parent. I'm so angry that Hogwarts isn't the safe place for you it should be. I want to whisk you away and homeschool you until you're an adult! That way you'll be actually prepared to deal with Voldemort when the time comes, because it willcome. The abominations in that diary and in you weren't the only ones. Ninja found another, in my family home of all places, and there'll likely be more. Dumbledore's strange ideas of giving you a crappy childhood and then wanting to teach you about divination and not much else isn't going to cut it.
Which means, of course, that a History tutor is coming to Hogwarts, and one for Potions as well. Sharptooth is already on it, so you can tell Hermione to withdraw her request. The tutors are not negotiable, but you may invite four other students to sit with you, if you like. If more students want to join, kindly remind them that it is not your responsibility to provide acceptable teachers, but Dumbledore's. Your newspaper would be the perfect medium for that.
Love,
Sirius
The first half of the first period had already passed, and Harry had the urgent wish to write to Brady, as well.
"We really need more time," he muttered, setting the pen back on paper.
Sirius,
Thanks for the tutors, they'll be a big hit around here. I already know that I'll invite Hermione and Neville for both subjects and go from there. There's this Slytherin, Blaise Zabini, who's not a total menace. He even helped me in Potions the other day. Maybe I could ask him, try to sound him out and stuff. But I won't if you tell me that his family is bad news, of course.
Harry looked up and watched the snakes sleeping in the fireplace. They were even more glowy than before, as if the fire was somehow charging them. That reminded him that he'd told Sirius about Slytherin's library, but had never gotten an answer to his question what they should do with it.
Speaking of bad news, I know that Slytherin's library is a huge deal, but I thought that at least Brady had something to say about all the books. Is something wrong with them?
Love,
Harry
Sirius' reply came quickly and gave Harry the answers he was seeking.
The Zabinis are an old family, though they're not from around here. As such, there's some stigma attached to their pureblood claims. Lauretta Zabini is a very beautiful woman - she's been married five times last I counted, and her husbands all died under mysterious circumstances. They're rich to be sure, the husbands left her tons of gold. However, I know nothing about the kid, so you'll have to rely on your instinct and not let him get too close, too fast. A contact in Slytherin would be valuable, though, so don't burn this bridge if you don't have to.
The Slytherin library ... pup, I don't know what to say about that, and neither do Brady or Gringotts. The books are yours by right. The Slytherin family magic will probably guard them zealously, now that you've claimed the family. Would the knowledge in those books and journals be priceless? Yes, of course, but we all feel ... inadequate to advise you. It's such a huge legacy that everyone is still quite out of sorts.
Harry sighed.Can you please do it anyway? There might be helpful stuff against the Dark Git in these books and I'll never, ever be able to read them all by myself.
Alright, kiddo, I'll try:
1) Try to make copies of the books. They can look cheap, it doesn't matter. If that works, continue with step 2.
2) Set up a contract and formulate an oath to viciously protect all (and I mean all) your interests. Let Sharptooth help with that, since it's not only his job, but his duty as your steward. The oath will probably have to be unbreakable, and I honestly wouldn't accept anything less in your place. It might also be necessary to stipulate obliviation after the work is done, if someone proves to be unable to contain the information. It occasionally happens and would protect them from a messy death. Slytherin's legacy simply is too valuable to take risks.
3) Find parselmouths who're willing to swear the oath and sign the contract and set them up to work. Pay them well for their effort, and store the translations in the deepest pits of Gringotts and protect them with Slytherin's family magic and a dragon or two.
4) Depending on what's in the books and journals, people will be pressing you to do something with them. Resist at all costs, until the true value and magnitude of the knowledge has been assessed. I can't stress enough that these books are your legacy. No matter how helpful the knowledge would be to other people or the government, triple check that your bases are covered and that people can't take advantage of you.
That's everything I could think of on the fly. If you really want to get started on the library, let me know and I'll make a journal for you and Sharptooth for just that purpose. Contracts and agreements will still have to be sent by mail, because of Gringotts' record keeping, but the planning can be done directly and will save a lot of time.
Take care, and don't take on too much all at once. Right now, occlumency should be your first priority, likewise for Hermione if she insists on being included.
Love,
Sirius
Harry was stunned. Of course he'd known that Slytherin's books would be valuable, but to all but demand total secrecy on the life of the people who'd work on them was ... intense. Harry had already had a problem with Brady swearing such an oath, adding more people to that number made him very uncomfortable.
And yet it's necessary, he thought with a grimace. Bloody hell.
There were only ten minutes left until the bell would ring, and so Harry thanked his godfather for his advice and the offer of a journal for Sharptooth and him and then collected the death adders.
"Are you warm enough, Sweetie?" he asked the snake in the egg while the others were climbing up his hand and into his shirt sleeve. "Do you need a charm?"
"I want to be with the others," she huffed. "Put me under your robe."
"People will see," Harry said gently. "How about my pocket? But no wiggling."
"Acceptable," the snake hissed. "But cast a warming charm. Next time, I bathe in fire with siblings."
He let the egg slide into his robe pocket, made sure that the opening in the shell wouldn't be closed up by his body and suffocate the little snake, and then he cast the warming charm on her.
"Alright?"
"Thank you, Harry," she hissed blissfully.
Betty appeared, showing Harry a plate with snacks that she then vanished into his book bag, before taking him from the Come And Go Room and popped him into a corridor close to Professor Flitwick's classroom.
"Alright," Harry muttered, "let's do this. It's just another day at Hogwarts ..."
And to his surprise, it actually was. Charms, Herbology, and Defence all passed as they usually did. It helped that the Slytherins were keeping to themselves for once, and that Ron decided not to approach Harry during lunch time.
In the hour between the last class and the Patronus Club, Neville shyly came up to Harry and Hermione's table in the library and informed them that their order was as complete as he could make it, and that it was waiting in the dorm for them.
"I'm sorry for the high price," the boy mumbled as he slid the invoice over the table. "Last year wasn't very great for some of the plants, so I couldn't restock as much as I wanted."
"That's alright, Neville," Harry assured him. "I'll give you the gold tonight. Is cash alright, or do you want it in your Gringotts account?"
"Cash please. My gran checks every now and then." Neville frowned. "Ever since my uncle tried dipping into my trust fund, to be exact."
"Oh, that's horrible!" Hermione said, shocked. "I can't believe what some people will try to do."
Harry smiled a little. "Not everyone's family is like yours, 'Mione." To Neville, he said, "Thank you, we really appreciate it."
As he was already there, Neville stayed to work on his DADA essay and walked with them when it was time to head into the great hall for the Patronus Club meeting.
For the club, the tables and benches had again been banished to the sides of the hall, leaving plenty of space for the students. Professor Lupin was already there, a smile on his face.
"I'm sorry that you have to see me so soon after your last class of the day," he said, earning himself a few chuckles. "Now, you've all signed up for this club because you want to be able to defend yourselves against a dementor. Since you're very young, it might be hard on your magic to actually successfully cast a Patronus. However, what you learn today, even in theory, might help you tomorrow, so don't get discouraged if it takes longer than you'd like." He pointed to the table behind him, where two dozen large chocolate bars were arranged to their best advantage. "If anything, there'll always be good chocolate at the end, so I hope you'll return."
After his short speech, Lupin told the students to set themselves up with a bit of distance between them.
"Now, dementors feed on negative emotions as we've already learned. Their very presence strikes terror in our hearts, bringing these emotions to the surface for their consumption." Lupin walked between the students and stopped next to Anthony Goldstein. "Anthony, can you tell me what a natural protection against dementors therefore is?"
"Well, if they're working to bring up the negative emotions, logic dictates that positive emotions would stop them." Anthony shrugged. "Although magic isn't always logical, right?"
The whole group giggled and Lupin smiled. "Five points to Ravenclaw for a well thought out conclusion. And in our case, thankfully, magic does follow logic. What powers the Patronus Charm is positive emotion, as pure as it possibly can be." He walked on, right to Pansy Parkinson, who was eyeing him warily. "Who can tell me one way to generate positive emotion? Miss Parkinson?"
She huffed, but said, "Recalling happy memories."
"Very good. Take five points for Slytherin. Can anyone think of other ways? Yes, Hermione?"
Hermione cleared her throat. "Gratitude. Or rather, the mindset of gratitude."
Millicent Bulstrode snorted loudly.
"How so?" Lupin asked in his mild manner.
Hermione said, unperturbed, "If one is grateful and content with who they are and what they have in life, they're bound to feel happy. It's not instant, though, and requires training, and I also don't know if that'd be enough to fight a dementor, but I imagine that it would at least help."
"You're practicing meditation?" When Hermione nodded, Lupin smiled and said, "It's true that a generally happy person will have a far easier time of successfully summoning their Patronus than an unhappy one. And while your answer wasn't fully correct in that a general state of contentment is enough to power the spell, practicing the art of gratitude is still a very helpful life skill. Take three points for Gryffindor. Anyone else?"
No one raised their hands, and Lupin nodded. "You'd be right. If there are any other ways to call a Patronus, or Spirit Guardian as it is sometimes called, wizardkind hasn't found them yet. Memories are quickly accessible and they're free, not to mention everyone has them. How happy they are, however, is a very different matter. In your own interest I hope that you'll have the opportunity of making many very happy memories in your lifetime." Lupin reached the end of the hall and spun around, wand in hand. "Expecto Patronum!"
Harry's breath caught as a large, silver cloud burst from Lupin's wand. It hovered for a second and then, abruptly, a wolf emerged from the mist and raced through the hall before fading away. Impulsively, he began to clap and was quickly joined by the others.
"Thank you." Lupin smiled, though he looked strained. "Now, please take a few minutes to find your happiest memory. Really get into it and remember the feeling in that moment with every fibre of your being."
For Harry, it wasn't hard to decide on a memory. The visit to his family vault, the feeling of being enveloped by the presence of generations of Potters, of being loved so unconditionally, was everything. He loved Sirius as well and was overjoyed to have him in his life, but it couldn't hope to compare to that fierce sense of belonging. Against his skin under his shirt and in his robe pocket, the snakes were wiggling excitedly.
"Alright, let's try it! You know the incantation!" Lupin clapped his hands for everyone's attention. "After me: Expecto Patronum! Say it loudly and clearly!"
"Expecto Patronum!" the students repeated.
"Now the wand movement ... like this!"
Again everyone copied Professor Lupin.
"You're a clever lot, well done," the man praised. "Now you can try."
Shouts of, "Expecto Patronum!" echoed through the great hall, and arms waved wildly in an attempt to get the movement right. Curious, Harry took it all in, hoping to spy a wisp of that silver light.
"I can't decide which memory to use," Hermione whispered, face anxious.
"Just try them all," Harry said and squeezed her hand. "It's our first club meeting, no one will get it right."
She smiled gratefully at him. "You're right, I'm being silly."
"Not silly." Harry grinned. "Just eager to do this."
"Do you have a good memory?" Hermione asked.
Harry's smile went soft. "I have the best."
They reluctantly split up for more room to flail around and Harry closed his eyes to concentrate. Remembering that moment in front of his family vault was easy, actually handling the surge of emotions was not. The remembered love rose up and up, tangled with his own answering emotions and bubbled from his eyes and mouth and hand and feet.
"Expecto Patronum," he murmured and could actually feel some of that intense feeling leave his body through his wand. "Oh."
In front of him, a shapeless silvery mist was hovering like a disconnected Lumos charm.
"Oh, really? Bloody Potter!" Malfoy shouted. He looked close to throwing down in wand in a tantrum.
The other students stopped what they were doing, elbowing each other as they stared at him, and beginning to talk in hushed whispers.
"Well done, Harry, very impressive!" Lupin said. As he came closer, Harry's cloudy mist winked out. "Fifty points to Gryffindor for a feat that not even the seventh years have managed yet."
"Fifty!" someone yelped and the talking got louder.
"There'll be fifty more in the cards if you manage to repeat that and get some shape to it," Lupin cajoled. "How about it, Harry?"
"I'll try," Harry muttered, blushing at the unabashed looks of his yearmates.
"There's no need to stare," Lupin reminded the group and ushered them back to their spots. "You have your own work to do. Twenty points for everyone who can also produce a mist. Mind the wand movement, Susan ..."
"That must be some memory!" Hermione said excitedly when the others had resumed their training. She was beaming. "I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry replied shyly. "What about you? Did you already try?"
"Not yet." Suddenly shy herself, Hermione shrugged. "I'm really not sure if my memory is strong enough ... and it seemed to go so effortlessly for you."
Harry's brow furrowed. "It wasn't effortless. I just have a really good memory for this." He lowered his voice, nervously eyeing the other boys in their vicinity. "Look, I just totally ... felt it. Like it was happening right then, instead of just remembering. You know?"
Hermione frowned back and chewed on her bottom lip in concentration. "I think so. I mean, it's what Professor Lupin told us to do, so it makes sense."
"You have nearly perfect recall," Harry continued. "And you've got a really great family. I'm sure you have lots of awesome memories to choose from."
"I do." Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Harry."
"I'll take it from here," Lupin said, slowly meandering over and gently nudging Harry back to his own training spot. "Give it another try, Harry, our time is almost up."
Although Harry didn't want to make a spectacle out of himself, he followed the request. This time it was harder to fall into the feeling - he knew that the others were keeping their eyes on him and it was distracting.
"Harry is strong," a nearly silent hiss came from under his shirt. "Little sister wants hot feeling. Harry forget noisy people and help little sister."
It wasn't the female's voice, which startled Harry. So far, the brothers had been content to want whatever their bossy golden sister wanted, but it seemed that the quiet times were over now.
"I'll try," he whispered.
Slowly, he called up the memory again, starting from the beginning to build up to it because heaven knew that he wasn't prepared to handle it at immediate full force again.
He was clinging to a man he barely knew, but knew well enough with Magic's help to love him ... was kneeling in front of an ancient vault, at the mercy of his family magic ... was being bathed in so much affection and pride that it was hard to breathe for the happiness of it ...
"Expecto Patronum," he forced through the sheer heaviness of emotion in his whole body, and again something left through his wand and burst into existence.
Harry kept his eyes closed and just felt the new presence in front of him. It was warm and glowing, radiating so much peace and happiness that it was nearly painful.
"Harry, look at him," Hermione said quietly. "He's waiting."
Reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes. He was half afraid that the apparition would vanish as soon as he did so, but there he was, a beautiful, silver stag made of glowing light with an impressive set of antlers. Calmly, it was looking at Harry, one ear flicking and left front hoof soundlessly scratching the floor.
"Hey," he whispered. Harry reached out and sighed when the stag pressed his nose into his palm.
Then, it vanished like mist on a summer morning.
Silence reigned for long moments, until Hannah Abbott began to applaud. Susan Bones joined, softly, almost reverently, and one after the other most of Harry's yearmates joined in.
Lupin looked stricken and his amber eyes had a wet sheen to them. "Fifty points to Gryffindor, Harry," he said roughly. "Very well done. Very well, indeed."
All hope of actually working through the last few minutes was utterly lost and Lupin accepted that with a lot of grace. The boys and girls converged around Harry, peppering with questions and expressing their admiration for his Patronus.
"Which memory did you use?" Ron called, sounding sullen. "Maybe we want to use it, too."
"Ron!" Hermione cried. "How dare you! That's personal!"
"How important can it be when there's dementors out to eat us?" Ron snapped back.
"That's a horrid thing to say, Ron," Professor Lupin said, voice sounding so cold that Harry nearly didn't recognize it. "I won't take points because that would harm your housemate's success. Instead, you'll have detention with Mr. Filch next Saturday."
"What for? I'm not saying anything others aren't thinking!" Ron complained.
All four snakes on Harry writhed around in agitation and hisses of, "Impudent boy" slythered over the boy's skin.
"Merlin, Weasley, you're an embarrassment," Blaise Zabini said sharply before Professor Lupin could formulate a reply. "You don't get that Potter's memory might be worthless to you, do you? Everyone's values are different, you moron. Find your own happy place and stop trying to steal other people's things." He glared. "I can't believe you're after Potter's memories. How desperate can you get."
"One point from Slytherin for insulting a fellow student, Blaise," Lupin said quietly. "To the rest of you: Blaise and Hermione are right. Memories are intensely personal, and everyone deals with their emotions differently. I can almost guarantee that borrowed happy thoughts won't work."
Blaise inclined his dark head, not protesting the point loss. And while the other Slytherins didn't look happy about him speaking out in Harry's favour, they quite obviously disliked Ron more and didn't say anything.
"And if they do?" Ron demanded.
"Then I'll happily award points," Lupin replied, voice still cool.
"Fine. Then tell Harry to tell us what memory he used." Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking triumphantly.
Hermione and several other students gasped in outrage.
"Of course I won't," Lupin said, visibly losing his cool. "Another detention for asking such a morally reprehensible thing from a teacher. I think Professor Snape could do with help cleaning several dozens of mucky cauldrons. And if you persist, it'll be detention until the end of term."
Ron lost his smugness and flushed angrily. "How am I to prove it, then?"
"That is your problem, I'm afraid." Lupin turned away from Ron and made a show of checking the time. "Alright you lot, our hour is almost up. Let's set the great hall to rights so we can enjoy dinner."
In short oder the tables and benches were back in their rightful places and every house had earned ten points for helping.
"Harry, if I might have a minute of your time before dinner is served?" Lupin asked as the students trotted off to their tables.
"Sure." Harry motioned for Hermione to go on and then followed Lupin out of the hall and into a small ante chamber. "Professor?"
"First of all, congratulations again for your successful Patronus Charm," Lupin said quietly. "It was a huge surprise, as you can imagine. Your Spirit Guardian ... it made me think of your father, Harry."
Harry frowned. "My dad? Why?"
Lupin smiled tiredly. "He, er, had the ability to transform into an animal. A stag, to be precice. Just like the one your Patronus formed into."
"Oh." Harry swallowed. "Sorry if that hurt you, sir."
"It hurt in a good way," Lupin assured him. "Their loss was ... horrifying. They were my family."
Harry's mind immediately went somewhere he'd sworn Sirius he wouldn't go, and it took all of his resolve not to blurt out, "Where were you, then, when I was a baby?" Instead, Harry said, "Will he come again, or will my Patronus look the same every time?"
"Generally a Patronus retains its form, although a life-changing event could cause it to alter its form to better suit the needs of its wizard," Lupin said quietly.
"Yours was very cool," Harry said honestly. "He looked beautiful ... why didn't you want us to see?"
"It's ... complicated." Lupin exhaled. "Harry, you know that ... that Sirius Black is out and about."
So there it was, the first volley. Harry tried not to stiffen, although his suddenly racing heart probably gave him away. It was a wonder that Lupin hadn't said anything about the additional four heartbeats on his person, yet.
"Everybody knows," Harry said carefully. "
"So they do." Lupin's eyes were intent, also his whole posture screamed wariness. "He was your godfather. Has he approached you?"
"He is my godfather," Harry murmured, unable to resist the poke. The question he ignored outright; it wouldn't do to admit to it. He watched Lupin's reaction and the man didn't disappoint.
"Is he?" Lupin asked, quietly shocked even though he'd already heard it once, albeit obliquely. His face flitted through a lot of expressions. It looked uncomfortable, almost painful. The sliver of hope was the worst, because it was almost instantly crushed by decade-old doubt.
"I'm glad the Ministry hasn't caught him yet," Harry added, taking care not to look directly into Lupin's eyes, even though he was fairly sure that the man wasn't a legilimens. "I hope they never will."
Through the thick wooden door they could hear the voices of the arriving students. The tension between Harry and Lupin was so thick it was almost suffocating.
"Harry ...," Lupin whispered. "Truly?"
There was a world of feeling being expressed in that one word. Pain and new hope and love and hate and anger and despair.
Instead of saying anything, Harry gave a barely-there nod and quietly slipped from the ante chamber to join his friends.
Mischief managed, as Sirius would say, he thought, already bracing himself for the crowd because there was no way the story about his Patronus hadn't spread.
oOo
Harry was absolutely wiped out when he finally managed to get up to his dorm. He'd never socialized so much in his life and was thoroughly convinced that he never wanted to do it again.
"I bet you're pretty satisfied with yourself now," Ron said bitterly. He was sitting on his bed, already washed and dressed for sleep.
"I could've done without the mobbing," Harry said grumpily, placing his book bag onto his own bed and flopping down. "People are seriously nuts."
"This time they kind of had a right to go crazy," Dean said apologetically. "It's not everyday a third year manages a corporeal Patronus."
Ron sneered. "The first in several centuries, of course."
"Right." Dean narrowed his eyes at the boy. "You said you had a really good memory to fuel the charm, but you know what, Harry? It also takes a bit of power to do it, and most of us just aren't there yet."
"Right, yet. I bet you that you can do it at the end of the year, at the latest," Harry muttered, still annoyed.
"Why? So you can claim that as your success as well?" Ron asked, tone biting.
"For the love of Merlin, enough, Ron!" Neville cried. "I'm so tired of you starting fights! Leave Harry alone already!"
"What Neville said," Seamus snapped. "Geez, get a grip, Weasley, your jealousy is getting toxic."
"Get help, Weasley," Dean said and left for the showers without another word.
Ron huffed, drawing his bed hangings shut roughly.
"I hate that he's always bringing stuff up," Harry said. The anger left him and he deflated. "I don't know what I did to him to make him like this. Sorry, guys."
"Not your fault," Seamus said with a shrug and followed Dean, unknowingly giving Harry and Neville the privacy to finalize their business.
"One crate of magical plants, mushrooms, and herbs," Neville said, handing the nearly weightless wooden box over.
"And ten galleons, eight sickles and five knuts for you." Harry grinned. "Thanks, Neville. Everything looks really good. I'll let you know how our potions turned out with your stuff."
"Please do. If there are problems with the quality, I need to work on it."
After a quick wash, Harry climbed into bed, cast his privacy charms and checked Dobbby's wards before coaxing the little adders from their hiding place under his pillow.
"Say, what do you even eat? You haven't asked for food all day," Harry said, stroking the three hatched snakes with one hand and the egg with the other.
"We eat magic," the golden female informed him and curled around his fingers, displacing one of her brothers who bore it with good humour. "Yours is yummy. Very rich. It's good for us, and little sister."
"She almost died in Mother," one of the brothers hissed. "We helped, but it nearly was too late."
"Harry make us grow," the female said imperiously and gnawed on Harry's thumb. "We will be strong and fierce."
"You absolutely will be," Harry chuckled. He cradled the egg against his chest and just let it rest over his heart while he let his magic well up. Everytime he did that, it got easier, just like the martial arts exercises Hermione had him do. "Are you well, Sweetie? You're so quiet."
"Growing," the little snake hissed sleepily. "Not too tired to eat."
"Okay." Overcome with affection for the tiny thing, Harry nuzzled a kiss on the teeny snake nose and bussed the three others as well when they complained about missing out on 'silly human affections'. "Sleep well, all of you. I'll just write to my godfather and Brady."
"Tell the Favourite that I'll come visit soon," the golden female hissed. She coiled around her brothers, forming an absurdly pretty braid. "We miss him."
"I miss him, too," Harry confessed.
When Harry opened the green journal, the four adders were already asleep. He used a sticking charm to keep the egg on his chest, making him feel a little like a sea horse dad with his kid.
September 14th, 1993
Brady,
Today's been insane. I just learned that the adders eat magic - I thought I'd let them starve because they haven't asked for food yet. Boy, do I feel stupid. Anyway, thanks for sending them, they're absolutely great. I adore the boys, and the golden one is a little queen. But I guess my favourite is the one still in the egg. She's so fierce, and her brother told me that she almost died in the Chamber. I feel like a total heel. Hopefully she won't hold it against me much once she's heard about it. Right now she's stuck to my chest and I sort of let her bathe in my magic. I didn't really know how to do it at first, but caring for them quickly taught me.
The golden one also told me to greet the Favourite, which is you, I guess, and tell you that she misses you and will come for a visit soon. I think her brothers will come with, they seem content under her rule.
We also had our first Patronus Club meeting tonight. I honestly didn't expect much, but ... you remember the visit to my family vault? Turns out that the memory is excellent Patronus fuel. I earned a hundred points for Gryffindor and my Patronus is a stag. Professor Lupin got all misty eyed afterwards because apparently my dad could turn into a stag and my Patronus looks exactly like him.
I sort of let Lupin know (for sure, that is) that Sirius still is my godfather, and therefore innocent, and he was kind of stunned and lost-looking. No idea what he'll do with that, but it felt like the right thing to do. I don't want him to be sad, and I don't want him to hate Sirius any longer. Both of them need a friend, so maybe that can happen now.
Ron's not been any nicer today. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I finally caved and asked the twins to write home. Even his brothers say that he's being a total git, and they don't have an explanation, either. Maybe his parents can deal with it before the whole school starts to hate him; Seamus and Dean are already nearly there, and even Neville snapped at him. I know how shitty being ostracised is and I don't want that for Ron. Do you have any ideas how I could deal with it? It's driving me crazy to always have him sniping at me.
Sorry for the long letter, I hope I haven't disturbed your evening too much.
-Harry
Healer Williams' answer took a while, which wasn't a surprise. Finally, the words began to appear on the page in a fairly even flow.
Harry,
You've had a full day, it seems, and you won't ever disturb me.
Let's get the unpleasantness out of the way first, because this ongoing situation with your friend is beginning to really worry Sirius and myself. It was good to involve Ron's brothers, that will hopefully lend credence to the claim in their parents' eyes. In the meantime you should consider hitting him with a revealing spell. Even if it's a basic one, it should pick up on malicious magic and allow you to report the matter to the school nurse or head of house.
I can't judge your dealings with Remus Lupin, that is between Sirius and yourself. That being said, I agree that your godfather could use a friend. He is at a stage in his healing regimen where additional social contact will be to his benefit, although I rather question the wisdom of confronting Sirius with this part of his past first. There's bound to be tension and what with Dumbledore probably forcing us to move our schedule forward, the additional stress could harm our cause. I'll talk it over with Sirius, although I'll be honest and say that his mind healer will probably advise him to wait for Lupin to make contact. In the meantime, Gringotts will continue to gather information and act in the manner that's best for Sirius' recovery and return to society.
Your Patronus ... I don't know what to say to that, Harry, except congratulations, of course! I knew you would be able to do it, but so soon? I shouldn't tell you this, but Sharptooth opened a betting pool as soon as he learned of the club, and put a hundred galleons on your first session.
He will be so unbearably smug now.
This is a very special achievement, and one that will bring you a lot of joy in the future. I'm so very proud of you, and very happy that the touch of your family magic has brought about such a marvellous gift.
And speaking of gifts, Patroni aren't only useful to repel dementors, they can also carry voice messages that can't be intercepted, and they simply offer comfort in times of despair. Their presence reminds us wizards of the good things in our lives, of all the happiness we were already blessed to experience. Our Spirit Guides will never lead us wrong. In my country, the people call them Little Soul and I think that describes them very well.
Thank you for the snakelings' greetings, I'm looking forward to seeing all of them again, and I'm very glad that they are a comfort you. Regarding their rather special dietary needs, I can only apologize. My plan wasn't well thought out, in fact, I acted before I really knew what I was about, and Dobby was off with them before I could tell him how they needed to be cared for. Thankfully they're not shy about making their wants and needs known and you seem to do just fine on that front. Also, I'd pay a galleon for a picture of you having that egg stuck to you. It must look adorable!
Shoot, it's getting late and you need your sleep. Thanks again for thinking of me on this rather special day! I'll tell Sirius all about it right now (he's invited me to stay at the Cottage for as long as the adders are with you, I hope that's alright) because I swear, your poor godfather has been biting his nails to the quick, he was so nervous about the club. He'll probably cry when I tell him about the form of your Patronus, so please don't tease him too much if he brings it up, okay?
Sleep well and hang in there,
Brady
Harry smiled and gently closed the journal.
"Betty," he called quietly.
The little elf promptly appeared, landing noiselessly on his shins and looking expectantly at him. "How can Betty serve?"
"First of all, you're wearing a dress!" Harry took in the black little number, admiring how the deep colour brought out the elf's bright blue eyes. "It looks very cute on you."
"It be gift from Dobby," Betty confessed, blushing a little. "Dobby be saying that Betty be deserving to have real uniform for House Potter's good work. Dobby not be wearing black because he be boss, but Ninja be happy to wear little black kimono for work. Master Sirius be grinning like loon about it."
"It suits you very well," Harry said, squeezing her small hand softly. "Could you do me a favour and get the camera from home? Brady said he wants a picture of me, like this," he gestured at the egg stuck to his chest and peeking out of his pyjama top."
Betty cooed at the egg and nodded. "Betty be right back!" She popped away and returned almost immediately with the old-fashioned camera in her hands. "Harry Potter sir smile now!"
Harry did, grinning happily and stroking the egg with protective pride. Under the shell, the snake wiggled in contentment before settling down again. "I call her Sweetie until she's ready for a name."
"She be lovely," Betty agreed. "You be doing good with that little one, Harry Potter sir. Betty be going now. Good night, and many doggie kisses from Master Sirius."
Harry laughed in surprise and waved. "See you soon, Betty. Good night."
When he was alone again, Harry put the journal and his pen back into his bag and closed it tightly. Even that small visit from home, and that bit of levitiy, went a long way in calming him down enough for sleep and he took full advantage of that. If it was a bit strange to have four little companions in his dreams, he didn't care enough to ask them about it, just went along with whatever adventure the snakelings had planned.
End of part 10
