A/N: Chap 24 review responses on my forums. Late post due to FF dot net hiccup this morning.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Little Girl Lost
By the time Harry arrived at the library, Astoria Greengrass was finished with whatever she was working on and was packing up her books.
Given the deliberate segregation of students by age, gender and elemental inclination, it was not surprising at all that Harry had never seen Astoria Greengrass before or even realized Daphne had a sister, just as it was not surprising that Harry had never seen Luna in person before she showed up at his house last summer to bond and marry him. So he wasn't sure what he was expecting when he found her while under his cloak.
Whereas Daphne had long, honey-coloured hair and brilliant but cold blue eyes, her sister had almond-brown hair than hung in a simple bob to her neck, held out of her eyes by a plain metal barrette. He found himself comparing her to Luna, because in many ways she reminded him of his first wife.
Astoria's eyes were just a smidge too large for her face, giving her the same look of constant surprise that Luna often had. Her mouth was very small with a sharp chin, making her whole face look reminiscent of a wedge. He knew she was younger by a year than her sister, but that one year did not explain her smaller stature entirely—Astoria was one of the shortest girls in the school.
It was her magic, though, that caught his attention.
Her core looked tiny, barely visible around her heart like a glove of cool, water-leaning magic in her chest. It was a wonder she could cast magic at all—even squibs had more magic than she did, even if they could not access it.
Harry ducked behind a bookshelf to remove his father's cloak and stuffed it in the spacious pockets of his school robe before stepping back out. Astoria saw him immediately and started, thrumming as if about to dart away like a wary gazelle. In fact, his whole impression of her was one of a prey animal in a savannah full of predators.
When she saw who it was, the fear pulled back behind an arrogant smirk. "Oh, it's you. Harry Potter, the twit who lived. What do you want?"
If he hadn't seen the fear in her eyes a moment before, he would have believed the contempt she displayed now. She was completely believable as the cold, arrogant Slytherin, but he had seen enough to know it was a lie.
"I discovered today that we're family," he said, searching for an opening. "You're my second cousin. Until recently, I didn't know I had any family at all, but now I'm finding all these cousins through my grandmother's family, so I wanted to talk to you."
"Like you talked to Daphne earlier?" she snorted. "I heard you sicked up on her shoes!"
"No, I completely missed her," Harry said. "I did a palm-reading on her; she has a very strong fate."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure I could describe it. Anyway, Luna mentioned she had a sister, which means instead of just one cousin, I have two, so here I am."
"So, here you are. Fine: Hello, goodbye, now go away."
She started walking past him and instinctively he caught her arm, opening his mind and magic to her as he did. The visions came hard and fast, stronger than he expected, and he once more had a sudden urge to vomit, though for completely different reasons.
"Let go of me!" she hissed, anger and fear in her brown eyes as she pulled away. She glared, though the glare shifted to confusion. "Are you crying? What is wrong with you?"
"I'm sorry," Harry choked. He cleared his throat and fought for control. "I'm sorry to bother you. Good night."
With one last confused look, Astoria turned and walked quickly out of the library. Harry didn't bother with his cloak as he ran back to the married wing. He managed to get in right before curfew, only to see Malfoy leaning against the doorframe of his own suite, twirling his wand.
"Shame you made it," Malfoy said. "It would have been fun to...what are you on about…?"
Malfoy had no chance to use his wand. Harry kicked it away with a round-house swipe of his foot he learned from Sergeant White, grabbed the startled Slytherin by the labels of his Acromantula-silk shirt and pulled him into the wide part of the hall before he began to pummel him.
"Draco?" Pansy asked as she came to the door clad in the most abhorrent pink pyjamas. She froze when she saw Harry straddling Malfoy and punching him repeatedly. "DRACO!"
Other doors up and down the married wing opened—not all the residents were Gryffindors, of course, since in fact most seventh year wizards and quite a few sixth years lived there. A seventh year shot a stunner at Harry which hit, but didn't take.
Harry had shrugged off a stunner, and at least twenty students saw it.
He could not shrug off Neville Longbottom, who was both taller and out-massed him by five stone. Neville virtually tackled him and threw him off the unmoving Slytherin. Harry screamed angrily, trying to continue the assault, when Neville slapped him. "Harry, stop it!"
The slap stopped Harry cold as the red tint of anger left his vision so he could see clearly for the first time what he did. "Oh Merlin," he breathed. "Ger' off, Neville. I'm okay, I'm over it."
A glaring seventh-year Ravenclaw girl was kneeling beside Draco casting a diagnostic spell Harry recognized from his occasional trips to Madam Pomfrey. He also recognized the result—he'd broken Malfoy's nose, jaw and ocular socket.
The older student, a former prefect who gave up her badge to marry the younger boy she poached, turned to Harry with hate in her eyes. "Get to your room and stay there," she said. "Barmy jackass."
"Hey, don't talk to him like that!" Neville said.
Harry, though, shook his head. "She's right, this was barmy," Harry said. "Merlin, I'm not even sure why I did it. I was just walking along and suddenly…" He stood and looked around at the stunned, angry expressions. "None of this is right," he said. "When the professors come, I'll be in my room."
He got back on shaky legs and saw Justine and Luna sitting on the bed. Justine was flushed and laughing nervously at something Luna said. Harry's heart sank at the sight of her—she actually was a lovely girl, even if she was taller than he was. He pulled out his cloak and handed it to Justine. "You need to get back to Hufflepuff fast," he said.
"What's wrong?" Luna asked.
"I think I'm about to get expelled," Harry said. He explained what happened to the two disbelieving witches.
When he was done, Justine asked, "But why?"
It was Luna, however, who answered. "You saw what he's done to her."
Harry nodded. To Justine he said: "Remember what Amelia told us regarding how rare rape is because of the risk a wizard might bond with his victim?"
She nodded.
Shaking, Harry said, "What if they're already bonded? A wizard can't bond a second time without his first wife's aid."
Justine's eyes widened as her flush died. He handed her the cloak again. "I'm sorry, Justine. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have, but I just saw him, and the vision came back and I just… I'm so sorry."
She took the cloak and then, despite the hard feelings and words, kissed his cheek. "You're a good man, Harry. We'll get through his somehow."
She disappeared under his cloak and slipped out while Harry collapsed onto the bed by Luna. "Did you see it?"
"Not as clearly as you did," Luna said. "It wasn't just Draco, either, you know. In our world, that can only happen if the woman in authority approves. It was first Cassandra Greengrass who handed her youngest daughter out as a plaything, and then Daphne herself, who gave Astoria to Draco and other bonded Slytherins to be played with. I suspect Malfoy did not wish to bond so soon—he's been insistent that Purebloods had sufficient restraint to wait until they were older. But if he was offered a prize to encourage him to bond, who better than the near-squib second sister of a second wife? Dames have done far worse. Chances are Astoria will end up being sold to the Goblins."
Luna's words did not help his anger at all. "How could Daphne do that to her own family?"
"Because that's how she was trained to be," Luna said sadly.
Not ten minutes later, the door opened and Albus Dumbledore himself stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and then conjured a chair to sit on. His knees audibly popped when he sat. For the longest time, he simply studied Harry's face without saying a word, and the disappointment in those ancient eyes was worse than any words he could say. Finally, in a tone laden with great weight and weariness, the headmaster said, "Why?"
The story spilled out so quickly Harry stumbled over his words, and not just tonight, but also the detention that started it all. Dumbledore listened without comment or expression, not even when Luna confirmed that she too had glimpsed Astoria's abuse. When they were done, the headmaster took a long, shaky breath.
"You realize, Harry, that young Miss Greengrass would violently deny your story," Dumbledore said. "In fact, it is likely Miss Greengrass would deny it so thoroughly she herself would believe the denial, which could fool even Veritaserum. Truth is, after all, subjective. I've seen this situation too many times not to know how it ends, and it never ends well."
"But…but…"
"Harry, even if I cannot condone your behaviour, I do understand it. However, that does not help us in this case." He leaned back, eyes half closed in thought. "On the surface, marrying a Greengrass would seem more advantageous to the Blacks and Malfoys than to you. Daphne Greengrass would not hesitate to have your elder wife and any others she or her Dame found objectionable, assassinated and replaced with those they felt more suitable. Such activity is not unheard of in the dark covens. If she were to become senior wife, by law she would have legal control over you and your bed. If you refused, she would be perfectly within her rights to have you forcibly bonded. I'm sure this was Professor Black's intent when she suggested the elder Greengrass sister, among others of similar inclination, especially since the elder sister is considered by all accounts far more attractive."
Dumbledore paused in thought. "This will be difficult for you, Harry, but despite your justifications, reparations will have to be made and punishments given. You cannot mention what Malfoy may or may not have done in public because there is no way to prove anything."
"But Astoria…"
"Is a victim, I know." Dumbledore cut him off. "And if you do what I assume you are planning to do, that will be your best means of saving her. But regardless, defending yourself right now would be a battle the mere fighting of which will destroy all you hope to accomplish. Right now, the best thing you can do is accept responsibility and punishment."
The ancient wizard stood slowly and bowed his head in thought with his hands clasped behind his back. A second later, the door to the room banged open and a blazing, furious Narcissa Black stalked in, wand at the ready. She paused at the sight of Dumbledore, but her anger did not lessen.
"If you do not expel this…this…monster, then I shall curse him where he sits!" Narcissa snarled.
"No, Professor, you will not," Dumbledore said without raising his head. "Instead, you shall have a seat so that we may discuss this like adults. After all, Mr Malfoy will recover without any disfigurement at all, and will likely be in class on the morrow. We do not expel students for one fight."
"He's almost killed students in the past!" Narcissa said.
"In the past, perhaps. However, it is clearly stated in the rules that disciplinary actions start anew each year. This is his first such altercation this year. Rest assured, there shall be punishments. Please, Professor Black, have a seat."
The fury fled with astonishing speed behind a perfectly blank face as Narcissa summoned a desk chair and sat, her long legs crossed primly. In an instant, she went from angry mother, to cold, collected Slytherin. "Very well, Headmaster."
"Thank you." Dumbledore sat down heavily in his previously conjured chair. "Now, from what I have been told, Mr Potter responded as he did because of a vision he received earlier in the day. It filled him with a level of anger he did not even know he had until he saw your son. Having had dealings with many seers over the centuries, I can personally attest that this is not unusual—often the emotional impact of a vision hits sometime after the vision itself."
"And what was this vision, pray tell?"
"Of Mr Malfoy's entertainments this holiday, following his bonding to his new wife," Dumbledore said coolly, while staring intently at the witch.
Harry noticed Narcissa stiffen for a split second before she casually examined her nails. "He enjoyed his bonding period, nothing more. I'm not sure why a vision of that would cause distress to anyone."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said wryly. "Be that as it may, the fact remains that Mr Potter attacked a student. According to the discipline guides, a first-time physical altercation that results in a trip to the hospital wing but no injuries lasting more than a day to heal is punishable by a months' detention and the loss of one hundred points, both of which are effective immediately."
"His detention will be with me," she said flatly.
"Regrettably, that will not be possible," Dumbledore said. "You are too close to the situation. Rather, he shall have detention with Professor Snape. I expect it to be unpleasant, since, shall we say, the two are not close."
While visibly upset about not having Harry to her own ends, she apparently knew enough about Snape to accept this.
"There are civil considerations to be made as well," Dumbledore continued. "Among families of standing, such an attack could be construed an act of feud between covens or families. Against this possibility, and as an acknowledgment of the wrongness of his actions, Mr Potter is willing to pay wergild to the Malfoy coven in the amount of two thousand galleons."
Harry goggled—that was more than many wizards made in a year!
Even Narcissa seemed surprised at the amount. "In return for?"
"A full release of any claim of vengeance for your son, yourself, your family, or your coven," Dumbledore said. "This amount will be paid directly from Mr Potter's personal vaults, rather than from the Lloyd Coven."
Narcissa turned to look coldly at Harry. "And would you agree to this, Mr Potter?"
Fighting for every control at his disposal, Harry nodded, "Yes, Professor Black. I did not intend to attack him, and was not even aware of what was happening until Neville pulled me off. I am sorry this has happened, and I do want to make it right."
"And if it happens again?"
"Then punishment will be more severe," Dumbledore said without hesitation. "Rest assured; this will not happen again."
Narcissa stood abruptly and moved to leave, before turning and glaring back at Luna. "You need to control your husband, witch, before you lose everything." With that she turned and left.
"Two thousand galleons?" Harry asked when she was gone.
Dumbledore waved it away. "I'll pay the fine, Harry. I've been saving for two hundred years, I can assure you I have the money." He walked to the door and paused again. "I think it advisable for you to contact your Dame if you truly mean to open contract negotiations with the Black Coven. You will gain standing by following all the forms."
"Yes, headmaster," Luna said.
When the old wizard was gone, Harry buried his face in his hands. "I really bolloxed this up, didn't I?"
"Yes," Luna said. "But as the headmaster said, it was understandable. It is the curse of seeing as much as you do."
"I bet Justine hates me now," Harry moaned.
"No, I don't think so," Luna said.
Harry took a deep shuddering breath before he looked at Luna. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
"It's alright," Luna said. "I came along of my own volition, after all. Now, let's go see what Hermione is doing."
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Dame Branwenna, the only living granddaughter of her namesake, Dame Branwenn Lloyd, was herself approaching three hundred years of age. She was a thin, seemingly fragile woman with thinning white hair and brilliant glowing eyes of magic and paper-thin skin that shone with power. Compared to her grandmother, who died within minutes of marrying Harry and Luna together, she seemed young and vibrant. However, when she arrived through the Headmaster's Floo in the first weekend of February, Harry was struck by how very old she looked.
Still, she walked straight enough as she crossed the office to meet Harry, Luna and Hermione. "Children," she said in greeting.
Harry bowed, while both Hermione and Luna curtseyed. As spouses of Harry, both girls were now considered members of his coven. Witches were plentiful and covens had no problem letting them go, but wizards were a commodity covens fought over fiercely.
"You've grown even more, boy," Branwenna said. "When are you going to get these girls pregnant?"
"We thought it wiser to finish school first, Dame Branwenna," Hermione said, blushing prettily.
"And the Sabbat sterilized me," Luna said.
Branwenna blinked. "Aye, I remember that, I suppose. I've sat proxy for Nana many years before she finally passed into magic. So, you asked to see me in your letter, what can I do for you?"
"Dame Branwenna," Luna said, her voice going up in a strange, childlike tone, "is there a cure that would restore my womanhood?"
The ancient witch visibly grimaced. "Aye, lass, but it is an artefact tightly controlled by the Sabbat. I saw it used once maybe a hundred years or so ago, and I won't lie, child. It was so awful I came close to fainting. Even so, it's a terrible thing, to punish a child for their parent's activity."
Luna bowed her head, fighting back tears. Realizing she was too overcome to speak, Harry said, "Dame Branwenna, Professor Black indicated the Sabbat might be willing to bestow such a gift to Luna if…if we were to replace Hermione with a pureblood witch of their choosing. She mentioned Daphne Greengrass by name."
"Wasps and harpies, those Greengrasses," Branwenna said without pause. "That Cassandra was troublesome as a child, and she's worse as a Dame. I'd trust her no further than I could throw her, nor her daughters."
"Would it be possible to negotiate a contract of marriage for a Greengrass daughter without actually naming which one?" Harry asked. "It's obvious they want me to choose Daphne, but Luna and I both believe Astoria, the younger sister, would be a better choice."
"And why is that?"
"Because Daphne would murder Hermione and Luna as soon as we bonded, while Astoria would not," Harry said.
Branwenna nodded, and then snorted in a singularly un-ladylike fashion. "Seems a sensible reason, all things considered. Why not be open about Astoria, though?"
"We want them to think they're getting what they want as long as possible," Hermione said. "We want Luna healed and fertile again, and we want to actually pass our OWLS."
"And are you willing to actually have your bonds to this lass broken?" Branwenna asked Harry.
"No, Dame Branwenna," Harry said. "Instead, we would want to say in the contract that the Greengrass bride would be the second wife by contract."
Branwenna nodded, smiling faintly. "I see. Can you handle a third wife, lad?"
"Easily," Luna said confidently.
"You realize that if I handle this for you, the Coven gets half the dowry," she said.
"You'll have earned it," Luna said.
"Indeed, I will, as I'll have to recruit one of our solicitors to ensure the contract delivers what we want. And to be sure I understand; you wish to bond the younger sister without specifically naming names in return for the restoration spell for your first wife."
"Correct, Dame Branwenna," Harry said.
The ancient witch reached up and ruffled Harry's hair fondly. "You're a good lad. It's been a bad bit of business this last year, to be sure, but you've handled it better than most could. I'll do what I can and let you know how it turns out."
"Thank you, Dame Branwenna," Harry said. He bowed, his wives curtseyed, and the old witch returned to her home to begin the arduous task of negotiating a marriage contract with whole family of truly wicked witches.
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Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.