Projection, Still Very Faint

Iere asked her house elf, Sue, to figure out how to acquire a picnic table for Owl Cottage.

It was spring and Iere liked eating outside, especially in the evening. If she were alone, or with only Astoria around, a blanket or two chairs on the lawn was fine. She wanted to be able to invite guests, though, and hospitality would be much easier with a table. Sue collaborated with the Nott Hall outdoor elves and delivered the table. She did it right, all very magical, the table materializing at the snap of Sue's elf fingers.

Iere did some quick addition and saw the flaw in her planning.

"That's a lovely table, Sue," Iere said. Sue looked pleased with the compliment.

"Can we get one more, just like it?"

One week before the end of the Hogwarts spring term, Iere hosted a picnic at Owl Farm for Draco and Astoria Malfoy, their son Scorpius, Harry Potter and his children, Albus and Lily. It was a very nice spring day, sunny and mild. The spring flowers were all in bloom. Song birds sang as bees flew from blossom to blossom, collecting nectar and moving pollen around.

Iere gave Astoria a briefing the week before, confiding her purpose in organizing the party. She wanted Draco and Astoria to take the children for a walk, possibly to see if the fox was moving about. That would get everyone some distance from the picnic table so Iere could consult with Harry Potter.

Harry might have been forewarned by Draco of the plot to isolate him or he could have just naturally found himself across the table from Iere when the others decided to take a walk. Either way, Iere was ready.

"Lord Harry," Iere began.

"Lady Iere," Harry returned.

"Oh, please don't," said Iere. "Iere is fine."

"Then feel free to call me Harry," Harry said. "That 'Lord' business is for the Wizengamot, not a picnic table."

"As you wish," said Iere. Harry didn't have to wonder where the not-yet-fourteen Iere heard that. It was pure Daphne.

"I knew what I was going to say, and now," Iere began.

"You don't," offered Harry.

"Thank-you for allying with me and I want to continue," Iere said, all in a rush.

"You're welcome and I'm flattered, on behalf of all the Potters and Blacks," said Harry. "You like the way we do things?"

"I do, very much," said Iere. "Which brings up James."

"Figures," said Harry. "You heard him talking about dingleberries? I'll have a talk with him. Young men, language. It happens. I may have dropped a term or two when I shouldn't have, back in the day. He'll apologize formally as soon as it can be arranged, once he's back from school."

"NO!" said Iere. "I didn't mean that!"

"Oh," said Harry. "I thought you'd heard about those from James. No one got it. In the Wizengamot? Tiber is probably still wondering how that bubbled up. Tricky thing, our subconscious."

"You knew?" gasped Iere, her face now going tomato red.

"Not until just this second," said Harry. "Did I speculate? Sure. It seemed the most likely explanation."

"He was going to call me a squib, right there in front of everyone, I could feel it!" said Iere. "I wasn't inside his mind, I could feel his sentiment. He resented me for being non-magical. If I hadn't had Uncle Theo right beside me, he might have gotten the votes. Anyway, James used that word one time and I just thought it sounded comical, so I kind of thought about Tiber using it as a substitute for squib. Then he got to the place where he was going to say, 'Squib,' and it came out. I don't even know what they are."

"The thing you mentioned? The word Tiber used?" asked Harry.

"Uh-huh. What are they, anyway?" Iere asked.

"James is going to explain it and apologize, as I said," Harry assured Iere. "Although, considering the favorable outcome, achieved without any hexes or duels or other nonsense, maybe he did a good thing, however inadvertent it might have been."

Iere was still puzzled but she put it aside in the place where she stored James issues until they could speak in private.

"James," Iere said.

Harry paid attention, wondering where in Merlin's name they were going to end up. His son had a sweetheart, that was very clear. 'Please don't tell me you're making plans,' Harry mentally begged.

"It isn't that there is anything wrong or unseemly," Iere began. She could feel Harry's anxiety and tried not to aggravate it.

"James and I talked about Mum's tragedy and the Notts and how I was left my father's successor, his parents' deaths initiating succession and so on, and James figured out right away I was Lady Nott."

"It wasn't a problem?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no," said Iere. "James said he'd never known anyone like me. I said, 'What about Mr. Potter?' and James talked like he didn't know about your titles. He was there at dinner when you gave me my ring. I don't know what I can say and what I can't."

Harry stared at Iere. She didn't just have the gift of empathy. She was a first-rate analyst besides.

"James knows, in a kind of superficial way, that I have some duties outside of our immediate family," Harry began, choosing his words. "I tried to keep all of it away from the children while they were growing up. As you've learned, that stuff is more about administration and taking responsibility and doing your duty than it is about balls and parties and a social page lifestyle. I take your point. James is twelve now and that is old enough. We'll talk. Anything else?"

"No, sir, that was it," said Iere. "Summer break is almost here. I'd like to see James…"

Iere caught herself and looked away, her face flushed a second time.

"It's okay," said Harry. "Of course you would, that's natural. I don't object. Just keep it in perspective, won't you? There is so much more you have to do before the two of you could consider, ah, more permanent arrangements?"

Iere nodded.

"I understand," she said.

"I have no objections," Harry repeated. "Please just consider, James is barely twelve and you're fourteen?"

"A few more weeks, but nearly," said Iere.

"You've both had so much dropped on you, much too early," said Harry. "Is he a bright spot in your life?"

"Yes," Iere said, nearly whispering.

"You are in his, of course," said Harry. "Talk everything through with Astoria. She knows all about romance, men and women. She's lots closer to your perspective than I would ever be."

At the end of May, James came back on the Hogwarts Express, ready for some serious training with an interval now and then for seeing, and talking to, Iere Greengrass.

Harry looked for an opportunity to talk through the things Iere had brought to his attention. James needed to hear from Harry how the Potters fit into the structure of British magical society. The tragedy of Daphne and Iere Greengrass had shown how the unexpected could happen anytime. James might be required to step up to great responsibilities, the same as Iere.

Harry got his time with James through a very slight bit of subterfuge. Draco and Astoria invited Albus to Jasper Farm and the time of the invitation happened to coincide with a special day at Grandmother Molly's for all of the Weasley granddaughters.

"Buy you lunch?" Harry asked after Albus and Lily were away.

"Sure," said James.

He would have rather gone somewhere for a good long run, preferably a place with hills, but he was sensitive enough right then to grasp that Harry really did want to treat him to lunch. The polite thing to do was accept and make up the miles later.

Harry retained a major soft spot for the Leaky Cauldron, a residual condition dating from his first, introductory experiences in the magical world. Furthermore, he realized Harry Potter having lunch with his son could always generate a little buzz and wouldn't hurt business for his friends the Longbottoms.

"Anywhere?" Harry asked Hannah when he and James exited the floo in the main room.

"Sure," Hannah said. "Be right with you."

Harry took a table with the twin virtues of being the furthest distant from the main body of seating while having a view of all the others nearby. Harry needed to be able to speak freely for the next hour or so.

The food was exceptional, Harry thought. He had official Potter business to discuss, unfortunately, so he couldn't concentrate exclusively on his sandwich.

"Did Iere tell you her title is official?" Harry began.

"Yeah," said James. "That was it. One sentence. Was there any doubt?"

"Oh, one distant cousin addressed the Wizengamot and made a case. It didn't go anywhere. The Wizengamot had to vote, as a formality, but it rejected the claim by acclamation."

"That's good," said James. "She'll be a good Lady Nott."

"She brought something up," said Harry. "She was a little confused. I guess she thought about your conversation and it sounded to her like you didn't know anything about Potters and titles. It occurred to me that we probably hadn't talked about it. Not enough. I tried to keep that all away from us because it gets wrapped up in politics and people start to think about us as objects instead of humans. You may have already seen some of that at school."

James looked at Harry, waiting, not feeling a need to comment.

"Here it is, then: the Head of the House of Potter is a Lord. It goes back a long way. Someone got elevated for some reason and now it gets handed down. Were you aware of that?"

James considered Harry's little speech.

"You inherited a title? For being Harry Potter?" James asked.

"Kind of, I guess," said Harry. "I'm Lord Black, too, because my godfather named me his heir before he died. You were at the dinner when we presented Iere with her Black ring."

"That was because you're Lord Black?" asked James.

"It was because, when Iere had just lost Daphne and the Notts were all dead, she was very vulnerable, so I offered her alliance and support from our houses," said Harry. "People are dangerous when they see a title or some land or money they think they can steal. They'll commit murder for those things. Inviting Iere to ally with our houses lets those types know they will have more than a thirteen-year-old girl to contend with, should they get any smart ideas."

"Good," said James. He started to take another bite of his sandwich but put it back down. "Thanks. That was a nice thing to do."

"I suppose," Harry said. "It was the right thing to do."

"It was," said James. "You keep saying houses. You mean Potter and Black?"

"Ah," said Harry. "Here's the thing…"

Explaining the Peverell and Slytherin titles took some time. Harry breezed through the introductory material but the questions James asked were good ones.

"So you are the head of a house even though the last Peverell died hundreds of years ago?"

"Yes, the last Peverell was Iolanthe and when she married my several times great-grandfather the houses were joined. The family line continues in us. You're a direct descendant of Ignotus Peverell even though it is through his daughter," Harry explained. "With no males in that generation, had Iolanthe died childless, the House of Peverell would have been extinct. She married and had children so it continued on, courtesy of us Potters. There aren't any rivals because there weren't any other lines descending from Ignotus. No half-siblings or third cousins to dispute the succession."

James sat quietly, thinking over what Harry had said and taking an occasional bite of sandwich.

"Okay," he said, "What about Slytherin?"

James took a drink of iced tea and Harry took a deep breath.

"Slytherin," Harry began. "Have you had any lectures or readings on the Second Wizarding War?"

James finished his sandwich and iced tea and was considering asking if he could order some more food before Harry wound up the story of Salazar Slytherin and his feckless descendants' squandering of their birthright by biting off more than they could chew.

"Salazar Slytherin…" said James.

"One of the four original Founders," supplied Harry.

"His direct descendants came down to He Who Must Not…et cetera, and he picked a fight with you…"

"Uh-huh," said Harry. "Some half-assed prophecy got back to him and he took it as authoritative. He had already murdered a bunch of people to make those infernal horcruxes so he was effectively insulated from death. If he had left me alone, he might have gone on and on. Then he got greedy."

"So you…"

"Killed him," Harry said, looking James in the eye. "And that settled that. It was him or me. The big snake Neville killed was the last horcrux Riddle knew about, and after Neville took care of her, then Riddle, in effect, destroyed the one he didn't know about by hitting me with a killing curse. What he didn't know, and I want you to keep this to yourself, was that I was the true master of the wand he was using."

"See, Dumbledore's theory, with which I can't find fault, was that Riddle's murdering in Godric's Hollow, when I was just a toddler, had the same effect as intentionally dividing one's own soul, same as what he did in the ritural making the horcruxes. The free fragment he created attached itself to me. Well, killing two young parents and attempting to kill their baby is pretty much soul-destroying. You can see Dumbledore's point, I'm sure. When we squared off there in the castle it came down to the two of us and I knew he was using a purloined wand. It wasn't clear right then that it was really mine at the time, but I figured it out."

"You defeated him in a fair fight," said James.

"Fair enough," Harry replied. "Everything was so confused by the time we got to it, it is hard to say what was fair. Dumbledore had been working it all out since the Triwizard Tournament. That was when Riddle came back physically; the reconstituted body and so on. Dumbledore figured out the diary and the ring, mortally wounded himself trying to use the stone in the ring and got as far as the cave and the locket. Dumbledore didn't know the locket had been swapped out for a fake. Ron, Hermione and I got the rest of the old artifacts, Neville took care of Nagini and Riddle knocked himself out of me. All of his back up was gone before we fought and both of the wands in the fight were loyal to me. That is what it took to put Tom Riddle, Jr. out of his misery."

"Damn," said James. He took another drink from his glass. The melt water wasn't very tasty.

"Let's get some more," said Harry. "Another sandwich?"

"Sure, thanks," said James. "Another fish, please."

Harry brought their drinks back from the bar and sat down.

"Questions?" Harry asked.

"Of course," said James. "How come I didn't know any of this?"

"I wanted to give you a normal life for as long as I could," said Harry. "Dealing with all the stupidity is hard for an adult. Why would I want you to get drawn into it? People leave us alone in here because most of the customers know us and don't go all overboard. We aren't exactly regular folks but they don't want my autograph, either. I had enough celebrity so I do things that don't draw attention to me or my children."

A light came on for James.

"Mum," he said.

"Loves that stuff," said Harry, finishing James' thought.

Harry sat, silent, while James mulled his father's story.

"When you defeated that guy, Riddle, you defeated the head of the House of Slytherin," James said.

"Right," said Harry. "Although, I've never known for sure whether he knew he was Head of House. His ambitions weren't exactly in that area. Either way, he was, and we fought, two heads, just like the old days. Single combat. It was the goblins who told me what I'd won, afterwards. There wasn't any money or property in it, but I admit it was kind of cool at the time. There is the cachet, of course."

"Merlin, I guess," said James. The second sandwich arrived. James picked up the little cup of tartar sauce and anointed the filet before putting the top half of the bun in place.

"I like it in Slytherin, you know?" James asked.

"Good," said Harry. "We should all be happy in our house. Merlin knows there are enough hard things at Hogwarts, you don't need a bad atmosphere waiting for you at the end of the day."

"So you're kind of something in Slytherin, aren't you? I don't know just what," James observed.

"It's interesting to think about, but I don't know of anything I'd be," Harry said. "Can I give you a bit of advice? Be a Slytherin. I don't mean the negative stereotype, pureblood snobbery, anything to win, Bellatrix Lestrange posters in the dorm…"

"Dad! How do you know about the posters?" exclaimed James.

Harry looked around and was pleased to see there weren't any customers nearby.

"Draco sells them over at Borgin & Burke's so it really isn't much more than an educated guess," said Harry. "You just told me it was accurate. My point, and I had one, was this: there is nothing wrong with Salazar Slytherin's principles. Have a goal, work at accomplishing it, keep working until you are the best there is. A man can live his life by that, take honest pride in his successes and die with a clear conscience. Go for it, give it all you've got, fair play always. Win the quidditch cup the next six years. I'll be proud of you."

"Will you sit with Slytherin?" James asked.

"Doubt it," snorted Harry. "There are limits. Can I give you one piece of unsolicited advice? Keep this whole conversation to yourself, around school. You and Iere have joint business, I know. Tell her about today. She was concerned you didn't have this necessary information about your background, and I agree. If keeping it all to myself was wrong, I apologize. As for everyone else, I really don't think small minds need to be seeing some arcane title when they look at you. You're your own man, as long as you don't get tainted by other peoples' expectations. You'll get this all dumped on you, one day, just the same as Iere. I hope it's far, far in the future. Enjoy the freedom while you have it."

James spent the remainder of the day mulling over the short course Harry had presented on the place of the Potters in the recent history of Magical Britain. Albus and Lily were very tired when they returned from their excursions so Harry ordered a light supper of soup and crackers for everyone from Bennie and soon had them tucked in. He was sitting downstairs looking at some business papers when James came down. The water ran for a bit in the kitchen, then James joined Harry in the living room

James looked at the file folder of paper in Harry's hand as he sat down.

"You aren't a cab driver, are you?" James asked. He said it with assurance but there were no accusations embedded, as near as Harry could tell. He sat still while he studied his son.

"Actually, I am a cab driver," said Harry. "I have a green badge and am licensed to transport customers to destinations within the boundaries permitted by law and regulation. After operating my own taxi for some years I now work one or two days per week and devote the extra time to my young family. What you want to know is am I solely a cab driver, isn't it?"

James thought over Harry's response.

"Yes, that is it," he said. "Do you do something else besides driving the cab?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" asked James.

"Someday," said Harry, "When I judge it won't be a burden to you. Haven't you had enough new information to think about for one day?"

"Probably," James said as he stood. "See you tomorrow."