Chapter 21
Recap:
"Susan? What's wrong?" Hermione asked.
"Granger, I am here to formally tell you to stand down as Harry Potter's date for the Yule Ball."
"And why in the world would I do that?" Hermione spoke coldly. This wasn't the first time a young witch had tried to warn her away from Harry so that they could have a chance at him. But Susan was the first one brazen enough to tell her so in front of Harry.
Susan thrust her chin out arrogantly. "Because he and I are betrothed to be married. And I will not have him dating someone else and thus make a mockery of both me and the House of Bones!"
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DECEMBER 19, 1994
MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON
INFIRMARY
HOGWARTS
"What do you mean we are betrothed to be married?" demanded Harry, shocked and outraged. Surprise outlined Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott's face. "You didn't know?"
"Of course not!"
Harry and Hermione just stood there for a moment staring at Susan and Hannah, who also appeared to be at a loss for words. The more it drug on, the more neither wanted to be the first to say anything. Fortunately, there was a fifth person in the Infirmary with them.
"Is it customary for children of the wizarding world to be betrothed? Even sometimes without their knowledge?" Petunia Dursley asked as casually as if she were asking a baker if the loaves of bread he was selling were fresh.
As it was his aunt who had asked, he decided to say something first, not that it helped any. "Not to my knowledge. I thought all that kind of thing went out of practice in England four or five hundred years ago."
"That was in the muggle world," Hermione said tightly. "However, the Wizarding World has been stagnant in its social growth for hundreds of years, which is why it still holds to many Elizabethan customs and prejudices. But even so, marriage betrothals, which are basically marriage contracts, are rare in this day and age, and even then are used primarily by the older pure blood families."
"How dare you cast your aversions on the time honored traditions of the Wizarding world!" Susan yelled.
The shouting was the last straw for Hermione. The very thought that Harry would be taken away from her began to become overwhelming. The bushy-haired witch bolted for the doorway, as she was about to lose her battle with holding back her tears. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye, and with his quick reflexes, managed to reach out and grab her hand, pulling her close to him. Not wanting to fight him, she settled for crying into his shoulder.
Hannah put a hand on Susan's shoulder, giving her a slight shove.
"Sorry," the redhead witch managed to say. "I've been wound up about this for quite a while."
"Ms. Bones," Harry spoke gruffly. "Have you ever even been out into the Muggle world?"
"Well, no," she admitted. "But I am among the top of my class in Muggle Studies. Or at least I used to be until the curriculum was changed."
"It was updated," Petunia ratified. "It was hopelessly out of date. Any pure bloods trying to use that material for guidelines to pass unnoticed in the muggle world would cause the exact opposite result. It was a very real threat to your—our statutes of secrecy."
"It couldn't be that far off," Hannah said. "Could it?"
"Definitely," the older witch confirmed. "Now please tell me why anyone would force two teens that hardly know each other to get married?"
"Um." Hannah glanced about nervously. "For tying allegiances between the two families, Lady Ravenclaw."
"While I didn't know her husband very well, I have a hard time believing my sister would have agree to something like that."
"Hmm? No." Susan responded. "The marriage contract wasn't created by either of the Potters. It was only created and put into effect two years ago."
"By who?" hissed Harry, his magic starting to become visible around him similar to the Aurora Borealis on the North night sky. "Not by my parents, that's for sure! They were already dead a decade!"
Hannah desperately poked Susan in the shoulder, until the redhead swatted her hand away. "The betrothal contract was made and signed by my aunt, Amelia Bones, who is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and your magical guardian."
Harry blinked. "I have a magical guardian?"
Both girls seem confused by his response. "Uh, yes. Everyone raised by muggles does."
"How come I didn't know that then?" Harry demanded.
"I didn't either!" Hermione spoke frigidly, wiping the tear from her face, but now holding tightly onto her boyfriend's arm.
"And neither did I," Petunia stated.
Susan frowned. "Well, I'm sorry to say that doesn't matter, since your magical guardian is in charge of you until you reach your seventeenth birthday which is when the Wizarding World considers witches and wizards adults."
"Wait," Hermione quickly wiped a last tear away. "Since Harry is being allowed to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, in which only contestants who are of an adult age can participate, doesn't that mean he is now an adult?"
"I'm not sure," Susan admitted. "But I think his magical guardian gave his approval to be in the tournament so that probably doesn't apply."
"Who is this so-called guardian anyway, and where have they been all my life?" seethed Harry.
Susan was now even more unsure. "It-it's Dumbledore."
A low groan emitted from the young contestant. "Of course it is."
"It doesn't make any sense."
Everyone looked to Petunia who was tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"Harry had no need of any magical guardian," Harry's aunt stated.
"But he was raised by muggles," Hannah stated.
"Ah!" Petunia then held up her wand. "But I'm not a muggle!"
"So that means Dumbledore had no right in arranging anything for me!" Harry practically shouted, grabbing Hermione in a tight embrace, which she returned with a slight squeal of delight.
"I don't think he could have enforced it anyway," Petunia added. "If the Goblins are correct and you two have a soul-bond, well, nothing could come between you. Not even a marriage contract."
"But my auntie says that soul-bonds are just made up myths," Susan responded half-heartedly.
Hannah bumped her in the shoulder. "Susan, this means you don't have to marry Harry."
A smile started to appear on the redhead face.
"Wait! You didn't really want to marry Harry?" Hermione said in surprise.
"No. I- oh, let me start at the beginning."
"A very good place to start," Petunia said with a secret smile that she shared with Hermione, who couldn't help shooting a grin back in return.
"About two years ago, my auntie (She's my guardian) told me that she and Dumbledore had made a betrothal agreement between the two of us. It was about making a unified political front, which my aunt said they needed to try stop the problems caused by Fudge's incomitance and corruption."
"Why couldn't they just agree to ally together? Why force the two of us into it?"
"Because that is the way it is done in the older families. It ensures that the alliance will be held together for at least one generation, and possibly further."
"So you just accepted it," Petunia said, trying to be the calming force in the room.
"I had no choice, so yes."
"Then why are you confronting Harry about it only now? Why not talk to him about it two years ago?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.
"Dumbledore convinced auntie that Harry wasn't ready to know about the marriage contract yet. And that I should give Harry space until he was ready and became more accustomed to the customs and regulations of the Wizarding world."
"Yet you barged in here as if you thought Harry already knew about the contract," Petunia pointed out.
"Oh, I see. What I left out was that once it became known that Harry was Lord Slytherin, and he also displayed such incredible power during the First Tournament, my auntie insisted to Dumbledore that you and I were to begin to get to know each other. Dumbledore said that he explained things to you, but you insisted on having more time to adjust to the idea. So when I found out that you were taking Hermione to the Yule Ball, I felt incredibly slighted."
"You said you didn't really want Harry," Hermione pondered, as she eased out of the hug with Harry. "Was there someone else you did want to go with to the Yule Ball?"
Crimson colors that nearly matched the hair on her head spread across her face. "Not that it matters, as he is already going with someone else."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Oh!" Hermione brought a hand to her lips in surprise. "The same person that most of the Hufflepuff females have a crush on."
"Uh?" was all a clueless Harry could say.
"Cedric Diggory," his girlfriend said with a shake of her head.
"Oh, yeah, he's kinda already taken by Cho," Harry said without thinking.
"Good guys are hard to come by," Hannah murmured, a guilty blush on her face as well.
Petunia raised her hand slightly. "Harry, if the young ladies are in need of dates for the ball, maybe you know of some of your friends that are available." She gave him a smile, as the mini-crisis had been mostly diverted for now. They would still have to deal with Dumbledore and maybe the Bones woman later.
"I could check in Gryffindor to see who is still available," Harry said, rather reluctantly.
"We could ask Krum about any of his friends in Durmstrang," suggested Hermione. "Decent ones who wouldn't be creepy and all hands."
"They do have some cute boys," admitted Hannah. "Uh, I am also in need of a date," she said quietly, with a smile. "I had been planning to go with Zacharias Smith, but he's proven to be a real jerk lately. So, I am also in need of accompaniment."
"We'll see what we can do," Hermione said, nestled into the crook of Harry's arm. Harry and Hermione will check among their friends to see about potential dates for the two of you. Miss Bones, you should inform your aunt that the contract with Harry is not valid, but that doesn't mean Harry and I are not willing to be part of an alliance."
Susan nodded before hesitantly looking over at Petunia. "Lady Ravenclaw, I should warn you. My auntie can be rather domineering in discussions. Don't be surprised if she tries to convince you to sign another contract binding Harry and I together."
Petunia's lips tightened slightly. "I wouldn't do that."
"I believe you," Susan said. "It's just that when she realizes that won't work, she may try and get you to agree to a contract between me and your son, Dudley. In fact, you should prepare yourself to receive several betrothal offers since he is your only child, so after you, he would be the last heir of Ravenclaw."
There was a small snapping sound that was soon identified as sparks emitting from Petunia's fingertips. "My son is in a relationship," she spoke coolly. "And while the majority of first-time relationships do not work out in the long run, I will always try to give my son and the person he is dating the benefit of the doubt that it could be forever."
Susan swallowed the lump in her throat. "I... yes, I think I would like that as well if I had the opportunity. I just don't think I will. My auntie would have to die before she lined up a marriage contract for me, and I don't wish that on her." She jerked slightly at Hannah taking her hand. She let out a heavy sigh. "Due to the position she has at the DMLE, she had an assassination attempt on her life last year, and two attempts the year before. My auntie stands for justice, which is why certain factions, Fudge included, want her out of office. During the last Wizarding war, her husband had been killed after only a year of marriage, and she was struck with a sterility hex, so not many men wish to pursue her once they learn that. My parents were both killed just a few months before your sister and her husband were. I am all that my auntie has left."
Petunia gave a slow nod. "And that is why she wants to connect you to a promising alliance, so that you would be safe and protected. And hopefully your children after you."
Susan nodded in return, having to wipe a tear away. "Now you understand."
Hermione let out a sigh. "See, now this is just another reason why muggleborns need a class to explain the customs and traditions of the Wizarding world to them."
She felt a poke in the ribs from Harry. "I think you just want more classes to take."
As she rounded on him to tell him off, he had already begun to race out of the room.
"Harry James Potter! You come right back, you... you..."
"I think you are suppose to go after him," Hannah suggested.
"I bet you could easily corner him in a broom closet," Susan added, now grinning from ear to ear.
It was a red faced Hermione that headed out after her boyfriend.
The door to Pomfrey's office opened up, allowing Unspeakable Crescendo and (her?) companions out from their meeting.
"Ah, good, if you will excuse me, ladies, I have to discuss some things with these people. I do hope you are able to find some pleasant dates for the Yule Ball. And if you would inform you aunt about the problem with the marriage contracts, I will do so as well with Dumbledore."
Both girls nodded, glad that they were ending the impromptu discussion on friendly teams, even if things had not turned out as they had expected.
Unnoticed in a nearby corner, a ghostly giggle could be was almost heard by a departing Myrtle as she went to seek out Draco to tell what she had overheard.
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DECEMBER 19, 1994
MONDAY, 5:45 PM
Vernon sloughed off his coat, wet with melting snow, haphazardly putting it on a coat hook, and turning away, never noticing that it slipped from its hook and fell to the floor. He also didn't hear the house-elf pop to where his wet coat and boots were. The meek house-elf gave a small snap of her fingers, causing the coat, boots and puddles on the floor to dry instantly. The jacket jumped up to the hook looking very neat, while Vernon's boots took in a instant polish.
"There you are," he heard his sister call out from the kitchen. "I didn't think it would take you this long to get home."
"Marge?" He made his way to the kitchen, only to stop when her pudgy dog waddled out, giving him the 'you look quite chewable' look. Vernon knew better than to move at this point, as the dog liked to chase things that might run away from him, and with the canine's advanced aged, the eyes weren't the best to the point that the dog might not realize that Vernon was one of the 'do not bite' category.
Marge came through the kitchen door with two filled wine glasses. "Oh, behave, Ripper. That nasty boy isn't here; that's just Vernon."
The dog sniffed dejectedly, before waddling with a slight limp to his cushioned dog bed.
Marge walked up to Vernon and handed him a wineglass before going over to sit at the couch in the living room. With a heavy sigh, Vernon followed her, putting his glass down on a side table before sitting in his favorite recliner.
"Traffic is horrible in this snow storm," bemoaned Vernon. "I can't remember how many accidents I passed just getting home. In fact, I'm surprised you made it here." He then frowned, "Marge, I didn't see your car out front; did you drive or take a taxi? You weren't involved in an accident, were you?"
She waved her hand dismissively at his concern, nearly spilling her wine. "Never even went outside today."
Vernon frowned at his sister. "Then how did you get here?"
Sipping from her wine glass, Marge snapped her fingers. Almost instantly, a petite house-elf in a pink maid-outfit appeared with a shy smile. "This is Millie. She's one of Samuel Kingson's house-elves that he's borrowed out to me. I had her bring me."
Vernon almost made an outburst. It was only the fact that it was his sister who had brought this thing to his home that kept him from saying anything right away. Well, that and the fact they were such amazing cooks.
"Millie," Marge spoke as if to a small child. "Ripper is in need of a bath. Please do so right away."
Millie's smile wavered, but then gave a firm nod, disappearing with a crack. Ripper did likewise just a moment later from his pillow bed. A startled yelp could be heard from the dog in the upstairs bathroom before it was suddenly silenced.
"Is that safe?" Vernon found himself asking, surprised by the bit of concern for the house-elf having to deal with washing a dog that was nearly the same mass as she was. He knew that Ripper had a temper as well as a bit of a sadistic streak. Harry wasn't the only one that Ripper has taken a bite out of over the years. He himself had been bit twice when the dog was two years old, as had many a mailman and jogger.
"Oh, she wouldn't harm Ripper," assured Marge, dismissively.
He was about to correct her, to let her know where his real concerns had been, but decided to not even bother as he didn't think she would understand. He wasn't sure he understood either. After it had been revealed to Petunia that he had covered up Dudley's accidental fall down the stairs when he was one, he realized just how much in jeopardy his marriage was. His wife and son had turned out to be just like that freak of a nephew of hers. Then finding out his workplace, Grunnings, was owned and run by a bunch of those 'first-born' wizards or whatever they called themselves. Or maybe it was 'muddle-born'? And to top it off, Marge had discovered that some of her contacts were from wizarding families. Squibs, yes, he remembered that word, at least. But the squibs were organized, and wanted revenge on being ostracized and kicked out by the very families that should have been watching out for them. So instead they were going to take everything they could from the self-righteous pure-bloods.
"What brings you here, Marge?"
She set her glass down on a coaster, and leaned back with a sigh. "Kingson has a plan that will take Hogwarts from those magical freaks along with a good amount of gold."
Vernon sat up in his chair. "Will it be dangerous?"
She gave a shrug. "Most of it will be handled by lawyers. Fortunately, the law will be on our side."
Vernon had heard many a story of how some lawyer had totally derailed a case against a client, or made the victim the scapegoat. The law had its own magic; the trick was always how to wield it. "How's that?"
She reached over and put a hand on hers. "The key to it all is actually you."
"Me?" Surely he had heard her wrong. "What are you talking about, woman?"
"You have to remember," she said, holding her hand up so that he would give her a chance to explain. "-that we are talking about a people who are centuries behind us in the matters of technology, fashion, law, cleanliness, and so many other things. But, it is in the area of the law that we have them. You see, their laws make it so that a husband has full rights over his wife and any properties she may own, which would be the dowry."
"How does that help?"
Marge grinned evilly. "Because your wife is descended from that Ravenclaw dame, she owns a fourth of the castle."
"That's doesn't do any good!" he snapped at his sister. "I've been told that you'd need at least half ownership to enforce anything."
Marge cackled. "And who, Vernon dear, who is the other only known owner of the castle? Who has the other one-fourth?"
"That damn nephew of mine! Harry Potter! That's who!" Vernon practically spat, as anger and frustration built inside him. "And that is why Petunia couldn't enforce anything at that castle without her nephew agreeing to it."
Marge leaned onto the side of her chair, nearly threatening to tip it over or crush the arm of the chair. "No, no, no," she sang out annoyingly. "You forget, dear brother. That nephew of yours is a minor, and as such, he is under the authority of his older family members, who happens to be your wife. And as I said before, you control everything that belongs to your wife. So..."
"I would control his portion, too," he stated flatly, falling back into the back of his recliner. He tried to gauge his wife's reaction if he went along with this. No matter how he worked it, he could not put a positive spin on his actions. He wasn't fool enough to ignore the fact that his marriage was already near rocky shores, and that any misstep on his part could ruin everything.
"Oh, and Vernon," she said. "Kingson also tells me that he believes that Harry comes from an old family line that is believed to be very rich."
"How rich?" he asked skeptically.
She tossed him a shiny golden object that he managed to barely catch. Upon examining it, he saw that is was a gold coin with a large G stamped on it. Even he could tell that it was solid gold.
"Kingson believes your nephew has at least a couple million just like that in that magic bank of theirs. And you being Petunia's husband, can legally go in and get your hands on it."
His breath started catching in his throat as he had to keep from having a panic attack. He quickly drained down his drink and sank back into his recliner, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.
"If I did all that, she could very well divorce me," he finally said, voicing his real concerns.
"Wouldn't happen," Marge said as waved her hand as if to wave the very thought away.
"You don't know that!" he practically shouted.
She sighed dramatically. "What I meant was that the Wizarding world she has recently gotten so cozy with doesn't accept divorces. She is stuck with you, dear brother."
She watched Vernon carefully as he took in all of what she had told him. Marge snapped her fingers, and Millie appeared with a slight crack that Vernon didn't even seem to register.
"Two more drinks for us, Millie," she commanded dismissively. "And some appetizers."
The house-elf, her pink outfit wet and covered with suds, disappeared at almost the same time as the items that Marge had asked for had arrived.
"Those fre-…, er, witches and wizards wouldn't stand for it. They would retaliate. And be out for blood. My blood. And besides, you didn't see how powerful my nephew is now. Even the rest of his kind are amazed and frightened by him. There is no way he wouldn't put a stop to this."
Marge showed her teeth as she smiled wickedly. "Kingson has an answer for that, too."
She pulled out a magical picture of a wizarding family at a picnic in the country, placing it between them. Then she took out a small plastic pellet, and while holding it over the picture, she squeezed it so that it popped and poured an orange gel onto it. There was a brief glow, but the results were nearly instantaneous, causing the photograph to become still, and thus indistinguishable between that of a regular muggle photograph. Kingson's people have come up with this. It doesn't have a name yet, but it stops magic from working, so you can see how that would be useful. He has hundreds of gallons of the stuff loaded into paintball capsules, as well as several other ways to deploying it."
Vernon downed the contents of the second glass, barely noticing the taste.
"Why is Kingson so committed to doing this?" he finally asked.
"Revenge for being looked down upon and then kicked out of his family without a pound to his name." She sipped her drink more conservatively. "He's also from a well-established old family. They had evidently cared for him a lot when he was younger, but as he grew older and displayed no signs of magic, they began to become less and less patient with him, until finally his own father, who had recently become the head of the House of Prince, banished him to our civilization. In his anger of being rejected, Samuel changed his name to Kingson, so that he would no longer bare the same name, but at the same time, always remember the people that threw him away for something that wasn't really his fault."
"That explains why he has an ax to grind," he admitted. Gently, he rubbed his forehead in an effort to ease the forthcoming headache. "When is this all supposed to happen?"
"Soon!" she said gleefully. "Very soon!"
He had to think how he felt about that. So many things could go wrong. And he and his family would be right in the middle of it all. Petunia might not see that he was doing it all for them. He hoped he could convince her of that when it was over. Once he had control of Hogwarts and put those magical freaks in their place, she would see that. Right?
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DECEMBER 19, 1994
MONDAY, 9:35 PM
TEACHERS QUARTERS OF ALASTOR 'MAD-EYE' MOODY
HOGWARTS
"Turn."
The portrait of Salazar Slytherin scanned the pages of the book in front of him, frowning at what he was reading. Barty Crouch, Jr., who was masquerading as a scarred up former auror who looked like he had been repeatedly mutilated over his year, had left for the evening to search in the library for something to help him in the ways of communication. The man waited until evening to do his searching as he wanted to not have students underfoot. Or other teachers, either.
Fortunately, Crouch had laid out a book for Salazar to read in his absence, including using a spell he knew so that the pages of the book would respond to certain words. Currently, he was reading Hogwarts – A History, which was proving to be very upsetting. It was a far cry from the book that Rowena and Helga had been working on in some of the last of his true memories, those memories from when he had been alive. No, someone had severely edited events from his time. Since it had originally been written over a thousand years ago, it had probably been edited, and even censored at times, by many people, all with their own reasons for doing so.
It still made him angry.
~Come to my call.~
Reading the history of the castle was informative. But he had been there during its construction. He knew things about Hogwarts that had never been told to anyone or written down. Such as small magical glyphs of serpents that he had placed in every room of the castle, including the very room that Crouch Jr. believed to be completely secure.
An indentation in the shape of a serpent grew across a bare stone section of the wall. ~Master calls?~
Salazar lowered his head in contemplation. "There are things to be done."
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AUTHOR's NoTeS:
Wow! It's been a year since I started this story. I'm rather impressed with how well it's turned out. A year ago, my wife, kids and I, went to stay at a beach house with my wife's extended family. It was a great time. Even on the one rainy day, we didn't mind being stuck all together. And it was on that rainy day that I sat down and started writing this story. And in about ten days we are all heading out to the beach again! I just hope we all enjoy it as much as last time.
I think I handled the Bones/Potter Martial Contract well. Plus, the added bonus of Myrtle spying for Draco. But stirring up the Vernon and Marge conspiracy was the main point of this chapter.
As for Samuel Kingson, if you didn't catch the not-so-subtle hint, the Prince family that he is related to is the same one that Severus Snape is. I don't think anyone figured that out before now. The only real hint I left for people was the last name: Kingson. And a king's son is a prince.