Granger, we need to talk
Chapter 33
Same old tired disclaimers. JK Rowling and Others own all recognizable characters.
I make no money off this work. As far as I know, no fame either.
Bummer.
Brief A/N: Ch. 21 was revised earlier and reposted. Unless you want to reread it, ignore.
Skipping is allowed while singing along:
Oh, we're off to see the Wiz again, the wonderful Wizengamot.
Where the Establishment may get a surprise.
Or then again, maybe not.
/
Yule, December 21, 1998.
Harry and Hermione followed the pattern laid down at the Autumnal Equinox Wizengamot meetings. Floo to 12 Grimmauld Place, breakfast, then arrive early at the Ministry for the ten o'clock scheduled meeting.
Everyone had dressed with extra care since prior to the Wizengamot meeting, the Orders of Merlin, were to be given to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville for the killing of Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts.
The Potter-Black group floo'd into the Ministry just before eight. After walking to the member's office area, the group separated. Andromeda and Narcissa continued to the House Black office while Harry and Hermione entered the House Potter office and after having a Ministry elf bring a supply of tea and scones with butter and jam, they settled into `their' chairs. Harry, in his sinfully comfortable, black dragon hide chair behind the large alder desk. Hermione to Harry's left in front of the desk.
The tiredness in their eyes and on the faces showed they had slept apart last night. Harry, as he had done many times this morning, settled his gaze upon Hermione. She in turn looked back, her eyes opaque to his probing, her demeanor quiet and controlled.
He had already asked half-a-dozen times either about what her and Greengrass had talked about, ("We had quite a discussion about wives and the Ministry of magical Britannia.") or had he done something wrong. ("No, Harry, you have not," was the calm measured reply.)
He could not ask Greengrass what had happened because she had left Potter Manor before Harry had left his study seeking the pair of young witches an hour after he had finished flying.
After a few moments, Harry grew uncomfortable with the silence. He was sitting there worrying that just as he had finally manned up enough for Hermione to be his girlfriend, Fate had decided to kick him in his teeth. With a long sigh, he looked down to his desk top and started opening and reading the mass of parchment there.
In his state of mind, not much reading happened.
Hermione attempted to bury herself in a book and not see all the times Harry looked over at her.
It was after nine o'clock when with a knock, the Black Sisters entered the office. After both sisters had given Hermione pointed looks, they sat next to her before Harry. Hermione tucked her book away.
Harry looked them both over. It must have been a rough morning. Even the ever-unflappable Narcissa looked a tad frazzled.
"Lord Potter-Black," started Andromeda. "Our work at finding support from our allies against this outbreak of marriage madness is not bearing fruit. In fact, we have found a disturbing amount of support for this atrocious bit of legislation amongst our supporters."
She snorted, her face tightening in contempt. "Oddly, or perhaps not, most of the trouble is with House Black. The Dark wants to stick it to you, The-Man-Who-Conquered. The Neutral and Light PureBlood Traditionalists do not want to have an old Most Ancient and Most Noble Family continued with off-spring from a Halfblood and a mug . . Mundane born. Think of it as their last gasp at the old levers of power. The smarter Lords have seen the runes being chiseled on the wall. They know that many of the traditional political power blocs are going to disappear. However, for whatever silly thoughts are whirling around in their tiny minds, others seem to think this pile of dragon dung is going to keep them relevant for a while longer."
Narcissa picked up the thread, her look at Harry hardened as she spoke after a moment. "In fact, your giving House Blythe to Lord Neville Longbottom has complicated the problem by a large degree. It is against Albion Magic and Wizengamot law to legislate a law that specifically targets one person. You gave the daft morons (1) a second person to whom the law could apply."
"Congratulations," she continued with a slash on her face imitating a smile, "You have managed to hoist yourself by your own Levicorpus"
Harry was silent for many seconds. "What about using our signed contract with the new Lord Houses to vote as they are told? Twice per year?"
"You can try it," came Narcissa's reply. "But the Dark will bring this motion to the floor for a vote at the Vernal Equinox meeting. And they will keep raising it at every meeting. Plus, they get the knowledge that this law will hang over your head for three months. And the backlash of would undo some of the, um . . . let's call it goodwill, that we have due to your gracious saving of many House lines that were headed for extinction."
Silence descended in the room. Harry sat back, slightly swiveling his chair back and forth.
"But goodwill is not enough to get a bunch of old fuddy-duddies to stop interfering in my life?" he questioned.
"Not all of them are old," came the regretful sounding voice of Andromeda. "What we have is an unprecedented, ad-hoc coalition of Man-Who-Conquered haters, young, just ascended Heirs who want to prove to their family that they are independent of any awe for you and see this vote as a harmless way to posture. And then you get to throw in the old fuddy-duddy's who are positive that you will actually learn to love this opportunity to have more than one woman available for your bed."
"If I see one more wink-wink, nudge-nudge in my presence, I am going to hex someone inside out," Andromeda spat.
"Alright, we have talked the multi-marriage ambush to death," Harry said, changing subjects. "How does our support for the Ministerial Department Organization Review look?"
"That will pass in our favor," replied Andromeda with a smirk. "Else several Houses will be feeling our wrath. And, they know it."
Andromeda closed her eyes briefly, then flatly said, "If nothing else, we will bring it up right after the marriage law vote. Our supposed allies will be falling all over themselves to prove their faithfulness to you."
The knock on the door startled everyone. Being the junior retinue member present, it was Hermione was who opened the door.
In the hall stood Daphne Greengrass, kitted up in her full Heiress Greengrass robes.
"I have a message from Lord Greengrass for Lord Potter-Black," she said.
Hermione deliberately leaned out of the doorway and openly looked at the "Do Not Disturb" globe on its bracket beside the door. It was glowing a dark, flaring red. Hermione returned her flat, opaque gaze upon the young Heiress. Custom dictated that when the globe was that colour, the disturbed Lord was allowed to be wroth with the interrupter.
Hermione stepped aside and allowed Daphne access to the office.
Harry observed that she and Hermione had almost no inter-action as they passed. The Heiress stopped in front of his desk and asked for leave to speak.
At Harry's minimal gesture, she started. "Lord Potter-Black, my Lord Greengrass wishes me to convey to you that House Greengrass had no forewarning, nor participation, in the coming vote against you that is being contemplated today. My Lord Greengrass further wishes me to state that he will be voting against the legislation."
After delivering her message, Daphne stood erect with her PureBlood mask firmly affixed. Lord Potter-Black looked at her firmly. Harry allowed none of the questions he so badly wanted to ask her to show anywhere except his eyes.
"Please return my felicitations to Lord Greengrass, and thank him for his support in this matter. Perhaps there will be other areas of mutual interest we can find at a later time."
Daphne curtseyed in return and turned to leave. As she passed Hermione, she paused and softly spoke to her.
"Order of Merlin Designate Granger, while I will miss having someone to talk with in the spectator section during the meeting, please accept my personal congratulations upon your elevation to the voting sector of the Wizengamot."
And with a head bow to Hermione, she walked out the door, closing it behind her.
"Those are two votes (2) I did not expect," commented Narcissa. "In fact, I figured he would be a firm supporter as Heiress Greengrass would be a strong aspirant for a PureBlood Lady Black."
She took a deliberate sip of her tea, explicitly not paying attention to the two young adults who were looking at each other with shuttered eyes.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Two Order of Merlin awards, First class, were given to Harry and Neville. The Second-class awards went to Hermione and Ron. The four awardees with all the proper pomp and ceremony to be expected at a Wizengamot session. And as much as Harry wished the whole thing could have been done by owl post, seeing the satisfaction in his friends faces after was something to cherish. He just wished he could bury the feeling of satisfaction that they represented two more votes that would support him.
Becoming an Order of Merlin member automatically gave the recipient a lifetime voting seat in the Wizengamot. As Harry and Neville were already members of the Wizengamot, nothing further occurred. Hermione and Ron were presented with, then robed in their new 'Mot robes, and led to their seats
After the Order of Merlin Members (OMM) Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were formally introduced and seated in the OMM section of the Wizengamot, the rustling from the Dark section and from some other PureBloods was not quite loud enough for Harry to be outwardly displeased. But the knowledge that all they could do at the moment was grind their teeth as the first Mundane-born (Tsk. Can't say Mudblood in public now, can you?) to ever be a Wizengamot member was ceremonially seated, filled Harry with vengeful satisfaction.
He was very happy to 'stick it to' the old geezers. They were the ones who had knocked the Minister's recommendation of Order of Merlin First Class for the Blood Traitor and the Mudblood, down to Second Class.
It had taken a lot of persuasion to stop Harry from telling the Ministry to stick their award where the sun doesn't shine.
The need to not smirk hugely while looking around the Wizengamot was nearly overwhelming.
Next, Lord Moragaine presented her proofs of Lordship of the Ancient House to the gathering, and took his/her seat, looking every inch a PureBlood.
Harry did smirk at her. Tracey tried to glare back, but it was weak.
The work started soon after. First up was the approval for the Ministry to tax convicted Death Eaters and collect the assessed money from their vaults. This had originally supposed to be a fine, but the Gringotts Goblins objected to giving the Ministry access to the vault records due to various provisions of the Wizard-Goblin Treaties of 1559, 1642 and 1704.
This was a problem because the Ministry was running out of money, and desperately needed an infusion of gold. Wildly guessing at the amount held in a convicted Voldemort supporter vaults, and getting it wrong, and forever breaking a House, would someday return to bite the Ministry in the arse.
The impasse had been breached when a Halfblood in the Ministry Financial Department suggested that the Ministry tax the marked Death Eaters killed in the war or by Voldemort dieing. The proposal was that a Dark Mark was to be retroactively taxable by the Ministry. And the more Dark Marks a House had had, the more tax it would owe. Since Gringotts was responsible for reporting to the Ministry a wizard's income for Ministry tax purposes, a tax would give the Ministry an estimate on how much tax would almost break a Death Eater supporter House.
Minister Shacklebolt had worked at convincing Lord Potter-Black that this was a solution that would also keep the Dark faction supporters still in the Ministry from being punitive and targeting to hurt the eleven Houses he had come to possess by Right of Conquest. An open to the wizarding public tax could be objected to and reviewed in the open. Historically the amount of a fine upon a PureBlood House had often changed between the Wizengamot amount and the amount finally collected. Sticky-fingered Ministry officials and quiet bribery could cost the Ministry a lot of gold.
A pile of parchment was given to each member. It contained a list of convicted Death Eater's, the amount in their vaults, amounts of business ownership and shares, property owned, their investments and it was then read aloud.
The Wizengamot, now acting in its judicial mode, then voted on a preliminary vote to accept the Ministry findings and tax amounts. Individually, the tax would be voted upon per defendant on the thirtieth of December.
There were several new pieces of legislation proposed to be voted on at the Vernal Equinox session.
Harry had been nervous all session waiting for the AK to be cast. Certainly no one in the PureBlood circles of the Wizengamot would have thought forcing a marriage upon someone was an "Unforgivable", but it was to him.
He badly wanted to turn and look at Hermione. She now had her own Wizengamot seat and vote as an Order of Merlin recipient. Somehow, this consequence of her getting a seat on the Wizengamot as an Order of Merlin recipient had not been real to him. He had thought, as always, she would be sitting behind him. Whispering the world's greatest advice in his ear.
Several times the Black Sisters had put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down as though whispering in his ear attempting to calm him as nervous twitches and vibrates threatened to become visible.
Lunch had come and gone. Despite his case of nerves, Lord Potter-Black made the effort to eat in the exclusive Wizengamot dining room. Andromeda, Narcissa and Hermione joined him at table. After a short stop to congratulate Ron, who was dining with his father and surprising Harry, Millicent Bulstrode, they sat and ordered.
Strangely, no one interrupted their meal. Dining room custom had that it was considered rude to interrupt a Lord's meal to politic for something, but the Potter-Black's had actually expected someone to try to have their vote bought by Harry. The fact it had not occurred was . . disturbing.
The Wizengamot was only fifteen minutes into the afternoon part of the meeting and Harry wanted to hex somebody. "Get on with it! We've got real legislation to get voted on after the ambush!"
"Madam Chief Witch," came a voice from the far left of the Wizengamot chamber. "I want to present a piece of legislation that is not on the list of for today's session."
There were numerous groans from all portions of the chamber. Most everyone wanted to get to the end of the session. Some were tired and others wanted to get home for the evenings Yule celebrations.
"Chief Witch, point of order," came the smooth voice of a tall, sandy haired member whom Harry did not recognize. He could not read the crest from where he was. "If Lord Onbarstot wishes to spring a proposed legislative bill upon us without having placed it on the Wizengamot Proposal List, he must first gain a procedural consensus from this body or place his proposal on the list for the Vernal Equinox session."
"Quite correct Lord Greengrass," came Augusta Longbottom's voice as the man sat down.
"Merlin's dragon dung! That was Greengrass' father! Crap! Now I really owe her!" came Harry'sthought.
"For a procedural vote such as this, the question needs to be proposed," said the Chief Witch.
"I propose the Wizengamot have a procedural vote on Lord Onbarstot's petition." came a voice.
"I offer a second to the motion," came another voice, this one filled with hateful glee.
Harry turned around to see who had made that second. After staring into that hate-filled face for a few seconds, he turned to Narcissa and made an obvious show of whispering in her ear.
Narcissa looked at the man for a second then turned back to Harry. He made a short, two-inch long finger across his throat motion, at Narcissa's nod, he turned back to the `floor' of the Wizengamot.
The Chief Witch banged her gavel once and spoke in a stern voice, "Members, a vote has been called on the procedural motion to hear Lord Onbarstot's proposed legislation. Press your wand onto the blue yes button to allow the reading, or press the red button to vote against the proposed motion."
Two coloured tally boards that could be read by the whole chamber started lighting up as votes were cast for or against.
At the five-minute mark, the Chief Witch banged her gavel once. "With eighty-nine votes tallied of a possible ninety member votes, the vote to hear Lord Onbarstot's proposal is passed, forty-five votes for, forty-four votes against."
"Humpf. If Valcourt had been released by St. Mungo's it probably would have been forty-six to forty-four," thought Harry.
A buzz of comment arose from both the Wizengamot and the visitor seating.
"Lord Onbarstot, you may proceed."
"Lords and Ladies, I am here to speak about a need . . . we must . . .Too many ancient and noble . . . it is therefore a measure that is needed . . . guidance of the young is required . . .
After all, we have only the well-being of the . . . blah, blah, blah."
Harry paid little attention to the proposal speech. He already knew what it would say. Instead, he sat and thought about how magical Britannia was in the process of screwing him over again.
The difference was, as had been forcefully pointed out to him, was that this time he had public allies. He had public support. And if he could smack down this stupid intended law, the prestige from having out-maneuvered the idiots, could make those five years of probable majorities for most of the laws that he, Hermione and Greengrass had talked about.
"I want to be your wife," suddenly popped into his mind. And Harry remembered how openly Greengrass had looked at him.
"NO! I'm in love with Hermione. I asked her to be my girlfriend! And even Greengrass has been pushing me to get engaged to her. Then why did she say . . " The same thoughts that had fruitlessly whirled through his head almost all night returned.
Right then, the thought was lost, due to the pain screaming from his ear where Narcissa had used her leaning forward to apparently whisper to him that masked the pinching of his ear lobe that nearly levitated him off his chair.
While he had been brooding, lost in his thoughts, Lord Onbarstot had finished his standard, boring Wizengamot speech.
Without thinking, Harry pushed his wand into the Attention hole in front of him to alert the Chief Witch that he wanted to speak.
"Lord Potter-Black. It is your wish to address this this body?"
"Yes, Chief Witch, it is."
As Harry stood from his chair, he very deliberately did not look at Andromeda, Narcissa, or Hermione. That was because he knew they were giving him their best `you will die soon, and they will never find the pieces' glares.
The three of them were meticulous planners who covered every contingency and every contingency plan had at least one back-up plan. Harry was going to speak without a prepared plan or speech. Harry had just flared into thoroughly pissed that Wizarding Britannia was about to screw him over again. It was Dumbledore and his control obsession all over again.
Harry was done.
"Lords, and Ladies of the Wizengamot. Ever since the Eve of Samhain in nineteen eighty-one, I have been under the control of those whom did not have my best interests at heart, Harry began.
"First it was my Mundane relatives. They had absolutely no magic ability, and regarded any accidental magic as an affront. My first inkling that I was a wizard was my Hogwarts letter on my eleventh birthday."
As a susurrus ran about the tiers, Harry continued. "Remarkable is it not that one of the oldest and respected Houses in Britannia had that happen to its Heir. Especially since I, or probably more accurately, my mother, had just rid our world of the threat of Tom Marvolo Riddle."
The hiss of anger from the Dark area had Harry smirking in triumph.
"In my first year at Hogwarts, it was my turn to have to banish Tommy back to his wraith status. Imagine, a poor little Firstie having to fight a Riddle possessed adult. I won though. And at my personal cost, bought three more years of peace for Britannia."
Harry then went year after year. He rolled up his sleeve to show "basilisk fang puncture, got that killing off a soul wraith of his." In the midst of his third year, he brought out how he had been almost had his soul removed three times by supposedly Ministry controlled Dementor's.
Harry glossed over most of fourth-year's Tri-Wizard tournament. "All of you know, or should know, that grabbing the cup at the end of the third task, activated a portkey that took me to the grave of Riddle's muggle-born father." Hisses and angry mutterings from the Dark seats had the attending guard aurors surreptitiously readying their wands.
"I would ask several former members of this august body who apparated into the graveyard that night to confirm my story, but sadly, they all perished when the Dark Mark cattle mark their Master branded them with, killed them all after I destroyed him."
An almost growl sounded in the room.
"C'mon," thought Harry. "Just one of you explode over my calling the Dork Lord a wanker, and the worst will be the next vote will tie."
Sixth-year was disposed of in a couple of sentences.
Last year was covered as a hunt for several powerful artifacts that would allow them to drain some of Tom Riddle's magic so the Light could finally triumph over The Great Evil.
"So, my fellow members, I have fought, bled and been scarred fighting against the Dark since I was fifteen months old. I have been told I had to do this because the wizarding world needed me to do it. Imagine, a pre-teen and teenage boy forced to fight against the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries. I am now an adult and I am tired of being told by people who are not my family what I have to do."
Harry paused and looked over the assembly. Some looked awestruck. Others looked guilty. And one section just sneered.
"I have decided to channel those members whom I have been told were some of the greatest lords to have sat in the Wizengamot. I promise to treat those who vote to target myself and my battle-brother, Lord Neville "Snakeslayer" Longbottom, exactly as those paragons of virtue, Lucius Malfoy, Caracticus Nott, Cassius Warrington or Strodamus Avery would have responded to the petty machinations of a small part of this assembly."
Without looking to see how the last had affected his audience, Harry turned and bowed deeply to Augusta Longbottom. "Madam Chief Witch, I believe the Wizengamot is prepared to vote now."
Madam Longbottom visibly pulled her thoughts back to running the assembly.
"Wizards and Witches, we will now vote upon allowing the proposed Progeny Recovery Act for Most Ancient and Most Noble House's to be voted upon this session. Enter your vote for Yea or Nay, now."
Harry immediately voted Nay and then immediately wandlessly activated a harmless little trantric that made his eyes glow the same colour as the Avada Kedavra curse. He then turned, trying to catch the eyes of several Neutral or Light members whom the Black Sister's had suspicions were trying to prove some mysterious point by voting for an obviously Dark sponsored law.
Five minutes later, the last light on the vote tally board lit. Harry blinked in surprise.
"With a vote of forty-three ayes and a vote of forty-six nays, the motion to bring the Progeny Recovery Act for Most Ancient and Most Noble House's is defeated. Lord Onbarstot, you may re-submit your proposal at the Summer Solstice session in six months."
Bang went the Chief Witches gavel.
Lord Onbarstot, snarled wordlessly from his seat. Harry deliberately did not look at Onbarstot. He knew he could never hold back the huge, gloating smirk.
To Harry's hidden delight, due to the previous vote shock and member eagerness to go home, the Ministerial Department Organization Recapitulation Act passed with little debate, and by a wide majority. (Set up in revised Chapter 21)
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Harry had to spend a half-hour being Lord Potter-Black as many Lords, sycophants and influence peddlers came by to congratulate the obviously rising new power in the Wizengamot.
Most were able to be shuffled off with a few vague words of `thank you for your support' and `that will be something to consider after my graduation'.
As soon as possible, citing a Yule celebration to attend, the Potter-Black "family" floo'd to their respective house's.
After skidding across the floor in front of the floo at Potter Manor, Harry picked himself up, offered his arm and asked, "Hermione would you please join me in the small sitting room?"
Silently the pair walked to the room and sat in the matching armchairs facing each other.
Harry looked at Hermione for over two minutes without saying a word. Hermione sat for almost two minutes looking back at Harry. Finally, she could take no more.
"Harry, I will understand if you do not want to take me to the Greengrass Yule celebration so you can be with Daphne."
Harry worked very hard at not jumping up and yelling, "What?"
Instead, he waited a few seconds and quietly said, "The invitation was made to Lord Potter-Black and guest. I want my girlfriend to attend with me. I have no intention of attending the Rite's alone. Are you still my girlfriend, Hermione?"
Hermione briefly closed her eyes. "Yes, I am, Harry."
"Then come with me. Both of us are exhausted. Last night and today were hard on us." He quirked an eyebrow. "We need a nap."
Ten minutes later, they were clad only in underwear and t-shirts. As Harry carefully spooned into Hermione's back, for the first time, she wordlessly grabbed his semi-resisting arm and clamped it across her lower chest.
The action froze Harry for a moment. But since he was not touching anything that in his mind was forbidden, he slowly relaxed and dropped deep into peaceful sleep.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Someone was disturbing Harry's sleep. Harry most emphatically did not want to wake up. Harry tried to ignore the insistent voice by pulling the covers up, and burrowing his exhausted head deeper into his soft, floaty pillow.
"Lord Harry must awaken," came what Harry now realized was Tilitsy's urgent squeaking voice. "Lord Harry and Mistress Hermione must get out of bed. There be's less than an hour befores you's must floo to Fair Greengrass for celebration."
Grump. "Doan wanna," he thought. Harry rubbed his face on his pillowcase to get his brain considering what Tilitsy was saying. Suddenly he realized that his pillow was starting to quiver.
"Quiver?" He forced his gummy eyes open. Even without his glasses, he could see the moss green of the pillowcase he was lying on.
"Wait a min. My pillows are white! Then what in Hades am I laying o . . OH, MERLIN, Hermione's t-shirt is green!"
As Harry tried to lunge up an iron bar clamped him down against his pillow. The quivering became full-blown shaking as Hermione's laughter resounded through his ears.
"Going somewhere, Harry?" she managed to gasp out between laughs. "Don't you feel comfy?"
"Merlin. I didn't know she was that strong. Or that padded." he thought. He lay there trying to decide which was worse. Laying there dying of embarrassment, or fighting out of Hermione's death grip grasp.
While he lay there trying to make his paralyzed mind work, Hermione rolled onto her side, dumping his glowing face off her breast and onto the sheet.
Bringing her laughter down to occasional spasms, she said, "I don't understand. When I wake up in that position on you, I certainly don't try to flee like a scalded Crookshanks."
Harry looked up into her humour filled eyes. "Who are you and what did you do with my dour, angst-filled girlfriend from this morning?" he thought.
"Please Lord Harry, you's must go. Your clothes are ready in your wardrobe. Mistress Hermione you's must get to your room for shower and dressing," scolded Tilitsy.
With a huge eye-roll, Harry rolled off the bed and headed for his ensuite. Ten minutes later he was pulling on mundane thermal underwear under his trousers. Over top, a set of dark green warm robes specially enchanted to keep warming and cooling charms working stronger and longer. Black dragonhide boots finished off his `wealthy-casual' look.
Harry was getting nervous. They had a timed portkey to the Greengrass' within less than five minutes. He had just turned to re-trace his pacing when Hermione came down the stairs.
Vaguely the thought wandered through his stupefied mind that she had mastered the art of turning him into a confounded, brain stunned drooling idiot this year.
Harry stood dumbfounded. She was wearing a glistening-grey becoming silver-tipped fur cloak of some unknown animal that screamed a fortune spent.
She briefly opened the cloak to show off her dragonhide boots and the dark green robe bought in Diagon Alley those many months ago. (3)
She glided up to him in her best Narcissa taught walk as he kept staring. The small smirk was pure Hermione.
"Tilitsy found this cloak in storage. She won't tell me what it is." She looked down at herself in some distress. "I've always been taught not to wear animal fur because of the cruelty of killing them for their skin. But Tilitsy insists this fur is over four hundred years old. I don't think they had silver mink farms, or whatever this is, back then."
"I think Tilitsy is showing you off," Harry said thoughtfully. "She has decided it is important for us to `showoff' that we can `snob' with the best of them."
"And after Lord Greengrass publicly came out on `our' side today," he continued, "I guess looking to his extended family like a couple of rich parvenue's that he's courting shouldn't hurt anything."
"Now," said Harry, hardening his voice, "Why have you been shutting me out? And how do you want me to act towards Daphne?"
As Hermione opened her mouth to answer, the portkey flashed blue and they both hastened to touch it as in a moment they both disappeared in a swirl.
A/N:
Not my best work, but has to be kicked out the door sometime.
One: Yes, it is a shout out to HP and the Daft Morons by Sinyk. Great story.
Two: The Greengrass' are a Most Ancient House. Ancient = 1 vote, Most = 1 vote. See Chapter 8.
Three: Chapter 11 shopping trip.
The differing vote amounts from Chapter 21 reflect the adding of the what-were-heirless, at the time, Conquered Houses to the Wizengamot totals since that vote
The campground I'm in wants too damn much money for internet access and with everything shut down in Florida, there are no libraries, fast food or Barnes and Noble to upload from.
I'm gonna pay for a few days to send off my taxes and upload this chapter and a revised Chapter 21.
Of course, it is better than being in XXXXXXX. The guv there won't even allow campgrounds to open. Hell, I'm "social distancing" in my tiny house no matter where I am. Stupid, stupid.
Probably Ch. 34 will not be published until I get "home" about late May. Maybe. If we go "home". As is, where I have paid mightily to stay, might be closed.