Arashi IV of IV/carick of hunter moon/geetac: thanks!
Blitzstrahl: what conversion rate are you using? Gold price is around $36 per gram, thus 19 million grams would be $684 million.
Disclaimer: Did the Order confine Sirius in a house he hated for protection when there are so many ways to magically disguise someone? If yes, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I am merely using the universe she created for fun, nonprofit storytelling.
...
"Hello." The young girl said in a too-serious tone for her age as she looked up at Minerva McGonagal. "Can I help you?" A bit above average height for her age, not very athletic, quite intelligent if her piercing stare was any indication, and with either little interest in looking her best, or resigned to tolerate an untamable brown mane of epic proportions. Within only a few seconds, the very experienced Professor had the girl pegged as "intelligent, academically inclined, young female, one" even as the younger witch had catalogued her elder as "peculiar, well-dressed, unknown, old female, one." Had they access to each other's thoughts, the similarity of their mental process would have given them a good laugh.
"Are your parents here, Miss Granger?" The Deputy Headmistress asked with her best smile. The Granger girl might be the oldest of all the new Muggleborn students this year, but she was not yet twelve years old... and yet had answered the door with the confidence and calm of someone twice her age.
"I do not see why that would be a stranger's business." The young girl answered curtly giving the strange-looking visitor a thoughtful frown. "Who might you be and how do you know my name?" Hermione was very certain the middle-aged woman in the rather elaborate black-and-emerald dress was neither one of her parents' clients nor from anywhere nearby. The cut of her clothing was unusual and the seams, while expertly made, were not practically identical in the way that indicated automated sewing. People that wore genuine 1800s' period dresses did not grow on trees, and were unusual enough that her parents would have commented on their acquaintance.
"My name is Minerva McGonagal." The Transfiguration Professor answered with a sigh. It was going to be one of those visits, with her trying to convince her new student and her parents of the existence of magic, and them bringing up multiple logical arguments as to why shuch a thing could not exist. She'd rather feared that since she'd discovered the Grangers were doctors, and their daughter's attitude would not improve matters. "I am a faculty member of an old, very prestigious school for... gifted individuals and your talents, young lady, have come to our attention." Better ease the whole family into this situation; the existence of magic was never an easy thing to accept.
"Old, prestigious school?" The new set of unsigned packages she'd gotten for her eleventh birthday over nine months ago used that exact wording to describe... "Are you from Hogwarts?" Hermione suddenly asked with excitement, leaving the Professor gobsmacked.
"Who is at the door, dear?" Her mother asked from the kitchen long before Minerva McGonagal could recover from that little bombshell. "You aren't giving any visitors a hard time again, are you?" Still in shock, the Deputy Headmistress was ushered inside. This was obviously going to be a highly irregular visit...
...
"Aaand done." Iris said, wiping copious amounts of sweat from her forehead. Bottling the contents of the small cauldron in an unbreakable, undetectably expanded bottle, she scowled at her smiling cousin. "You should have learned to brew this yourself you know. Not taking advantage of your younger and/or older relatives."
"Don't be such a baby. Practice makes perfect!" Sirius said with a mischeivous smirk, his hands trembling with the effort of not immediately snatching the potion bottle out of his cousin's hands. "And don't worry, I'll put this to good use. How long will a single dose last?"
"Seven hours. Potions were never my greatest talent." Working Sirius' exact words in her mind again, she stared at him, eyes narrowed. "You will only use this to impersonate uncle Arcturus, understand? If I get word of any shenanigans involving Polyjuice, or that you didn't follow aunt Cassiopeia's exact instructions, I'll get out of Hogwarts, find you, and turn you into Bellatrix with it. Then I'll tell our dear cousin that it was your idea."
"You're no fun." Sirius said glumly, practically deflating before her eyes. "You get to be a kid again and instead of using the opportunity to party as anyone normal would do, it's only plots, plots, plots for you. You remind me so much of Narcissa at your age it's depressing."
"We, the House of Black, are slowly taking control of wizarding Britain in order to avoid another war if Voldemort returns." The eleven-year-old girl reminded the thirty-year-old man sternly. "It's supposed to be full of backstabbings, and backstage deals, and the monster called politics. Nine tenths paperwork and socializing, and one tenth sitting in a hard, cold, stone seat in good, old, dank and musty Courtroom Ten." One dark eyebrow rose, emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you want fun, you could challenge our cousin to another duel."
"After three years of daily dueling sessions among you two and dear aunt Cassie, the most learned dark witch in the family?" Sirius shuddered. "I'll take the frozen arse and cramped, ink-spotted fingers, thank you."
"Gee, Sirius, where's your sense of adventure? Where's your Gryffindor daring?" The girl shook her head at the perpetual teenager that was her former godfather, her now longer and straighter black hair cascading over her shoulders with the motion. Styling potions were a wonder, especially Sleekeasy's. Naturally, it had been invented by a Potter. Just as naturally, the potioneer Fleamont Potter was noted as James Potter's father, and thus Iris' grandfather... when Iris herself had always believed Charlus Potter to be so instead. The Black family tapestry supported her even - was this yet another sign of paradox?
"Whatever." Her ex-godfather said, changing the subject. "What will Bellatrix be doing while I'm playing politics and wearing Granfather's face?"
"She'll be Chief of Security of the newly created Black Enterprises - under a false identity of course." Iris responded, storing a few more useful potions she'd been brewing. A few of those she'd be taking with her to Hogwarts, especially the Aging Potion. Physically growing into an adult self was safer and could last longer than Polyjuicing into her old form. Besides, in the future timeline she'd grown up suffering of malnutrition and had to recover from countless injuries over the years. Now, after years of exercise and healthy eating, the adult body she had to look forward to was... significantly improved. Too bad she wouldn't be changing her age very often.
"Really?" Sirius asked, unaware of where his cousin's thoughts wandered. "How did you convince dear cousin Bella to do legitimate work?"
"Our people need serious combat training in light of a potential second war. We also have no reason to train them that they or the Ministry will accept, and over half of them are muggleborns." Iris gave Sirius the patented Black cackle. "Bellatrix has to pretend to be a paranoid and possibly bigoted security chielf that puts muggleborns through borderline insane exercises on any excuse, most often for her own amusement. I think she'll do fine." She finished dryly.
"I'll say." Sirius agreed. "Well cousin, this has been a blast but I, the great and mighty Arcturus Black, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black have much work to do. Be seeing you."
"Not so fast, mister." Iris stopped him before he could disappear. "You still have to help me pack and tandem-Apparate me to Platform Nine and Three Quarters."
"Slavedriver!" The 'mighty' Head of House Black protested. "Why do you have to go, anyway? You are beyond NEWT-level in most subjects."
"Funny you should ask that." The ex Head Auror said, thinking about the abysmal Defense teachers, the Philosopher's Stone, the House rivalries, the Chamber of Secrets, a certain rat animagus, the Triwizard Tournament, Snape, the Horcruxes, the Room of Requirement, and all her other deadly adventures she had to go through with little to no support. Then she thought of Harry Potter, her counterpart in this timeline, the little boy that would go through the same hell unless someone helped him. "I think I'm going to have fun."
...
The Dursleys had not been at all interested in driving him to London. They'd given him just enough money for a one-way trip via train and had sent him away with the hope that he'll get hopelessly lost and they'd be rid of him once and for all. Unfortunately for them, just a few hours after the letter from his new school had arrived via owl, another envelope had simply appeared on his desk with a soft 'pop'. Barricading himself in his new room to avoid any Dudley-related interference, he'd read the detailed instructions of how to find Diagon Alley, get money from the goblins after confirming his identity with a blood test, and do everything required to be where he was now; an entire train platform somehow hidden away not only from the sight of muggles but also from Geometry and Common Sense, and their joint mandate that something so large could not possibly be hidden simply due to the space it took up.
"You're late, cousin." The girl that looked like his twin sister said. His more athletic, better-looking sister, Harry thought with a hint of annoyance. Being starved by the Dursleys might be a thing of the past but his clothes were still a far cry from the expertly tailored, expensive dress robe Iris was wearing. To her obvious wealth add her poise, confidence, and magical ability and Harry's doubts about fitting in this new world reared their ugly head.
"Stop that!" Iris commanded, once again proving her uncanny ability to know what Harry was thinking. "The only reason for our differences is that I've been practicing magic for a lot longer, trained for years under tutors that make the Dursleys seem positively angelic in comparison, and had the sense to buy something nice for myself, not just the things on my list." She was being the caring but all-knowing older sister again; Harry hated that version of the girl, mainly because he could not fault her reasoning. "You have to break this habit of doing just enough to get by, Harry. The Dursleys won't lock you up or starve you if you do better than Dudley or his friends now. On the contrary, the wizarding world will hurt you if you don't do enough; you've read all about the expectations they have of the Boy-Who-Lived."
"I did not ask for my fame." He told her once again. How many times have they had this conversation now?
"I know you didn't." Iris sighed. "But you have to be ready, Harry. Fame, wanted or otherwise, attracts enemies. And enemies with magic can be terrible. I've been trying to help you prepare, you know. Did you get into Diagon Alley by yourself or did Hagrid take you?"
"Hagrid helped." Harry admitted, knowing it was useless trying to keep a secret from his cousin. "Was that one of your little tests then? What was the point?"
"The point was seeing how being proactive can help you in the long run. Had you not waited for Hagrid you'd have had more time to read your textbooks." Iris admonished as she helped him load his trunk into the Hogwarts express. Harry saw her struggle with the weight and laughed; he couldn't help it, knowing how either of them could have lifted it with magic. Since Iris had insisted they keep their full abilities a secret however, and Iris knew best, Iris could make a fool of herself struggling like that, too. Finally realizing the futility of her efforts, his cousin cheated by making the trunk lighter and then pretending to success by strength alone... and finishing with a kick to the offending piece of luggage for good measure. "Yeah, yeah, laugh now that you can, cousin. You won't always have a smart girl by your side solving all your problems for you. I'll personally make sure of it."
Rolling his eyes at the girl's antics, Harry disregarded her ominous pronouncement and led the search for an empty compartment.
...
"Is this seat taken?" The tall redheaded boy said hesitantly as he entered Harry and Iris' compartment a few minutes later. "Everywhere else is full."
"Of course it is." Iris said sweetly. "Can't you see one of my cousins sitting there under an Invisibility Cloak?" The former Girl-Who-Lived couldn't resist having a bit of fun at Ron's expense after the redhead's little white lie. She would have never noticed it if she had not reviewed all her memories of her Hogwarts years in preparation for enrolling once again, but Ron's statement could not have been true. For one, Fred and George had not gone to sit with their friend Lee Jordan till later so that was at least one compartment with open seats confirmed. For another, the train had been prepared with the larger pre-war generations in mind and stood now only two-thirds full. On the other hand, Ron had even less confidence than Harry and sitting with older students, his brothers, or a group of other purebloods would have been a daunting challenge for the eleven year old Weasley boy.
"Oh. Uh... I'll be going then."
"Seriously?" Harry asked before Ron could leave. "Needling me all the time I can understand, but playing a prank on somebody else?" Harry turned to the youngest Weasley boy and gave him a welcome smile. "Don't mind my cousin, she's always doing things like that. Sit anywhere you like."
"Thanks!" Ron said, his own smile widening. His uncertain look returned as he glanced at Iris again. "Cousin? I thought..."
"That he's Harry Potter?" Iris said dryly. "You're right. I'm still his cousin though."
"Unfortunately." Harry added with a mock suffering look. Iris elbowed him playfully, and they both burst out in laughter.
"Harry Potter, pleased to meet you." Ron shyly shook the offered hand.
"Ron Weasley." He said, then turned towards Iris.
"Iris Black." The girl said, seeing her former friend's eyes widen comincally. "Yes, I am one of those Blacks."
"And you're cousins?" Ron blurted, mouth agape.
"I'm cousins with many people. The Blacks are a big family." Iris said airily. "Bellatrix Black, Sirius Black, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black - you've heard of us, yes?" Ron now was so red in the face he could be taken for a giant tomato. "Some of my aunts you must know, too. Callidora Black who married into the Longbottoms, and Cedrella Black who married one Septimus Weasley. She's your grandmother, no?"
Harry was quietly laughing in his chair now, having abandoned his attempts to elbow Iris into oblivion - not that he was getting anywhere against the weak Shield Charm Iris had cast - when Fred and George Weasley burst into the cabin.
"There you are, Ron." The first twin said with a smile. "I see you've found a seat..."
"...are you sure you don't want to sit with us?" The other twin said. "We'll be joining Lee Jordan..."
"...and his giant tarantula." Obviously horrified at the offer, Ron shook his head and immediately sat between Harry and Iris. The girl gave the twins a wink and a smirk, while Harry rolled his eyes at that.
"Hmm, I guess we'll invite someone else." George said and the two of them grinned. They'd probably been following their younger brother either to make fun of him, or at their mother's request, and must have been waiting outside to listen in on Ron's first contact with Harry. Their next statement confirmed that.
"See you later Harry, miss Black."
"You're just like them!" Ron accused after the Twins had left; Iris took it as a compliment.
"A very great prankster once told me I'm not having enough fun in my life." Iris shrugged. "I'm trying to follow his advice."
...
Iris had stayed out of the boys' conversation for some time now, alllowing them to get to know each other and possibly become friends without interference. She'd only participated when the talk turned to Quidditch, to Ron's great surprise, but had quickly fallen silent again when Ron took out 'Scabbers the Rat'. Trying to suppress her rising anger at the traitor with Occlumency was not working very well and she was very happy with the distraction that suddenly barged into their compartment.
"Could you please stay still for a moment?" A bushy-haired, buck-toothed brunette said as she entered, holding up a series of finger-sized wooden tablets with a subtly glowing rune each hanging from a string. "We're searching for a toad." The two boys looked at Hermione Granger in annoyance, and Iris sighed, took out her wand and cast.
Finite!
The glow of the runes faded, the minor magic put into them by Hermione's inexpert attempts easily quashed by her counterspell.
"Wha-" Iris' once best friend looked surprised for a moment, then furious. "Why did you do that!" She demanded.
"Because you were rude." Iris said calmly. "Not only did you get in unannounced, but you started using magic near or on us without asking."
"I'm trying to help Neville find his toad!" Hermione insisted with all the self-righteousness she could bring to bear when she was certain she was in the right and that others were wrong. It had always been her greatest flaw in the other timeline - and here too, from what Iris could see.
"What if we had been a group of seventh-years, snogging? What if we had been changing into our school robes? What if we had been a bunch of prejudiced Purebloods more than willing to hex the first year muggleborn that fell in our hands?" Iris countered. "Besides, there's a far easier and safer way to find Neville's toad."
"Oh yeah?" Hermione challenged, her hair becoming bushier by the moment, like an angry cat's. Untamable hair was often a sign of accidental magic. "Let's hear it, then!" Iris sighed. She'd liked the other girl much better after the troll incident, after she'd learned she could have friends, that she didn't have to hide behind smug superiority all the time. A small confrontation in the safety of Hogwarts Express was not enough to shake her out of it, it would seem.
"You could ask a Prefect for help." She finally said. Letting the troll incident happen again was a risky proposition, but Iris was beginning to think the best friendships could only be forged through adversity, not safety and common sense - unfortunately.
...
"Is it true?" Draco Malfoy asked as he and his two bodyguards entered the compartment. "Everybody says that Harry Pott... you!" Iris smirked. Her other, less likeable cousin had finally noticed her. "What are you doing here?"
"We're the same age, Draco, so we'd both go to Hogwarts at the same time." She took another Chocolate Frog out of the large bag Harry had bought for all of them, while the other boys observed her and Draco's interaction. "If you're here to meet the great Harry Potter, I must admit to being disappointed."
"Really?" Draco Malfoy said, trying not to sound his usual challenging and pompous self. He knew what would follow if he did. "How so?"
"For one thing, you're late. Neville Longbottom came by a good hour earlier, as did several of the Weasleys - not to mention a muggleborn witch that was a bit too clever for her own good." Iris shrugged. "For another, I doubt Harry will be impressed by your offer of alliance if you insult his new friends while giving it."
Draco scowled but could not refute Iris' words. "Right." He turned towards Harry and offered his hand. "I don't know what cousin Iris has been telling you Potter, but it would be unwise to only listen to her opinions." He whispered conspiratorially, though not so quietly that everyone couldn't hear him. "She can be rather annoying at times, you know what I mean?" Ron laughed for as long as it took him to realize he was laughing at Draco malfoy's joke, and even Harry smiled a bit.
"Yeah, she's always trying to mother people... or nag them to death big-sister style." Harry agreed. "What did you want to tell me?"
"Just that some wizarding families are far better than others." Draco said, and Ron scowled. "It would be best if you were more... careful whom you made friends with."
"Maybe." Harry said dubiously, but without rejecting the proposition outright. "Perhaps if people proved they were my friends by being friendly?"
Draco left, disappointment evident on his face, but without hints of anger. For a few minutes the compartment was quiet - but not for long.
"What was that about?" Ron asked heatedly. "Should I 'prove' I am a friend now, whatever that means?"
"Excellent performance, Harry." Iris said with a smile before Ron could explode. "Thanks for trusting me, too."
"Why did you ask me to do all that?" Harry asked at the same time Ron demanded; "What performance?"
"I coached Harry into confusing Draco." Iris explained to the both of them, but addressing Ron foremost. "For a future Slytherin, my other cousin is terribly direct and not very perceptive. If Harry rejected him outright, he'd probably throw a tantrum and might even start a fight. But now he's confused just as you were - how can he prove he's Harry friend? Until he thinks this through, he can't return to his plans of befriending the Great Harry Potter."
"So you tricked him!" Ron said, smiling once more.
Iris despaired of ever healing the rift between the Houses, or understanding teenagers again - teenage body or no.