Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Press and Warner Brothers, not me.
A/N: If I don't see you no more in this world, I'll see you in the next one, don't be late!
Chapter 4 – The Mirror of Her Dreams
In the beginning there was light. Her first memory was of a bright shaft of light illuminating her hand.
The place in which she lived was filled with light. It poured over her in all directions, from the windows, the glass doors, the skylights, the electric lamps, the halogen globes in the garden.
She hated the darkness. Inside the darkness the nightmares would come. They were vague, all the more terrifying for being incoherent fragments of images. A horrible dark building that was cold and draughty and worst of all, filled with lots of horrid little people who'd pinch and bite her and steal her food and clothes. Big people who were cold and distant. They didn't protect her from the little people, so she protected herself. She'd punch and kick and steal their things right back. One night she dreamed she could inflict pain on them with a mere thought. She used that power to make them fear her. Another night she dreamed she could make the little people do things directly. She could think a thought, and then they would do it – furiously, unwillingly, but they couldn't defy her, they were only weaklings …
She dreamed of a giant castle filled with wonders. But that place was also filled with tormentors. Little people covered in green who hated her because she was different from them. Just like in the bleak house. So she treated the greenies the same way; if they were too strong she'd flatter and obey them. If they were weak, she'd make them feel pain, just like in the cave. The worst dreams were of the cave. She'd drag some little people in, the ones who'd hurt her the most, drag them in and laugh and laugh in delight as they writhed and suffered at her feet –
On those nights she'd wake in terror, cold sweat running down her face and back. Fleeing from sleep, she'd wander the corridors and empty rooms to try and distract herself, to calm her pounding heart. Each time she'd feel something behind her stomach tugging, drawing her body like from an invisible tether towards his room. It was always his room. Almost without her control, her body would sneak into his bedroom, slide under the covers and snuggle into his warmth. His arms would instinctively cradle her close to him, hands stroking her hair until she stopped shivering.
When morning came he'd tell her to go back to her room, that her bed was for her to sleep in and his bed was for him to sleep in, but she'd complain about the nightmares, break out the puppy-dog eyes, and start tearing up until he caved. He never forced her to leave, and he never locked his door.
She was jealous of Bellatrix, who slept like a baby every night. But she comforted herself with the thought that Bellatrix also had to sleep alone.
The days of December progressed. Dan and Emma enlisted everyone to set up decorations in honour of the season. She helped the others to fill the house with shiny things. Tinsel across the doorframes, a tree covered in glistening baubles, statues of white beings with wings like Hedwig's, and many glowing idols of the Granger family's personal deity: a fat man with a long white beard, adorned in red robes. Everything was shiny, as shiny and Dan and Emma's eyes and teeth. Light bounced off the shiny things in all directions, and she imagined it dancing happily from place to place.
One morning, the adults walked the three of them down the road to a local school. Then they were suddenly surrounded by a cavalcade of children their own age for five days a week. She felt the onslaught of boisterous noise and energy was overwhelming and yet … and yet there was something deeply familiar about the process of listening to teachers, running around in the yard, sitting at her desk, looking at the strange black shapes on the pages of her books and realising that she could somehow comprehend their meanings, writing words that she had never learned. Her hand automatically flew along the paper without a thought, and her ideas appeared in ordered shapes before her like magic.
She spent a lot of time shepherding Bellatrix through the bewildering tangle of school life. As much as she was out of her depth, Bella was in a far worse state. The girl could read and write as well as she, but had no idea how to deal with the swirl of people and events that enveloped her. The knowledge they were imparted was bizarre and alien, and the conversations of the other children unintelligible. Whenever not confined to her desk during lessons, she was by her side or slouching behind her, hand firmly clasped in her own. Sometimes Bella simply clung to her waist, buried her face in her neck, and stubbornly refused to let go, even when classes resumed. Fortunately Dan and Emma had informed the school of their situation, and the teachers were sympathetic. They were allowed to flee class and have alone time whenever the pressure become too much. She made it her mission to protect Bella from all the strangeness, until she could stand tall on her own. The feelings that swelled within her when she made this promise to herself felt like another kind of magic.
The Saturday after their first complete week of school, Harry rewarded them for their perseverance. He led them to a secluded alley and then waggled a wooden stick until a fantastical bus appeared with a flash! The bus tore through the streets at an incredible speed, bouncing and shuddering the entire way, Bellatrix screaming and cackling with manic glee. She ignored the girl's shrieks of joy and clung to Harry, burying herself in his stomach until they reached their destination.
Harry led them through wondrous streets full of weird shops and people dressed in outlandish clothes. And yet there was something deeply familiar about this place too. To her joy, it resonated even more deeply with Bellatrix. The girl blossomed before her very eyes, dragging her to this store and then that, peppering the affable proprietors with question after question, brilliant violet eyes ablaze.
He finally intervened after two hours, and guided them to an ice-cream shop. Over sundaes he explained that the three of them had magic within them, a magic different to what she'd felt before. That they were special. That they could never tell anyone at school about it.
When the adults weren't looking, he extracted his wooden stick and the empty bowls transformed into soft yellow chicks. She could only stare in wonder as they peep-peep-peeped! and pecked at the flakes of chocolate that had fallen onto the table. She almost cried when they reverted back to crockery. When he said she would be able to do the same with lots of practice, motivation sprang up like an internal fire, and she hurried the others along as fast as she could to Ollivander's.
Harry escorted the two girls inside the creepy dark shop where a sinister old man gave them stick after stick to wave around. Bellatrix hit paydirt first. A comet of crimson stars shot out and incinerated the antique tapestry hanging on the wall.
"12 ¾ inches, walnut, dragon heartstring core," noted Ollivander, dousing the fire. "Unyielding."
Bella couldn't stop giggling, cradling her new wand like she cradled and cooed over Hedwig.
Her own quest took far longer. Wand after wand felt like deadwood in her sweaty hands. The shopkeep was forced to unlock the cellar and withdraw the more rare and non-commercial models he usually stored out of the way. Finally she grasped something that ignited something swirling and writhing inside her body. Invisible flames licked under her skin, and an explosion of sparkling gold shards twirled through the shop.
Harry and Bella applauded. She made a theatrical bow.
"13 ½ inches, yew, phoenix feather core. Vigorous."
And Harry nodded at the man's words, as if he wasn't surprised at all.
The rest of the weekend was taken up exploring the magical neighbourhoods and practising simple spells with their new wands in out-of-the-way places. Harry promised to find them magic teachers after the New Year. In the meantime, he made them promise never to use magic without him present.
One day an interloper invaded their happy paradise. Harry told them about Dan and Emma's daughter, who was also a magic user. The girl learned magic in a big castle far the north, and was coming back for a week and a half to visit her parents. He hoped that the four of them could be best friends. Hermione was tall with a big bushy mane of brown hair that cascaded wildly in all directions. But the way the witch stared at her made her squirm and want to run away.
The next morning, she woke up and found herself tied up so tight she couldn't move. A gag fastened in her mouth prevented speech. Looking across the bed she noticed Bella was in the same pickle. A few minutes of struggle proved that escape was impossible. There wands lay out of reach on the bookstand on the other side of the room.
Hermione entered her bedroom and a floating Harry levitated in after her. With a swish of her wand, he landed, none too gently, on the floor with a grunt that the gag couldn't quite suppress. His wand floated over to the bookstand to join the others. Looking down at her three bound victims, the witch twirled her wand in a circle as she pondered out loud.
"Now what exactly am I going to do with you three home invaders? I would interrogate you as to what in Merlin's name you thought you were doing squatting in my house, but a) the Other Me in the watch spent all night filling me in on the situation, and b) I can't afford to remove your gags lest you summon your house-elves to your aid. So you'll just have to sit there trussed up like turkeys and listen."
She noticed Harry's gaze on her wand. He raised an eyebrow.
"I take it you're wondering about the Trace? Your elves obligingly used their magic to block it before they left to go run errands with Dad. Which leaves us with several hours of just the four of us and my untrackable wand."
The girl sat primly upon a cushioned pouffe and crossed her legs.
"Tut tut Harry, the watch told me that we were best friends in our past timeline. Friends don't let friends brainwash said friend's parents. Confundus Charms on Muggles to obtain personal benefit? Dear, dear, I do believe there's a mandatory stint in Azkaban for that sort of behaviour."
"Uh, I think you may be taking this too far, Real Me," said Portrait-Hermione hesitantly.
"Silencio!" Hermione silenced the painting without breaking eye contact with Harry.
She writhed against her bindings with all her might. Her instincts had been proven right, this girl was Trouble with a capital T! She had to find a way to rescue Harry and get away from this crazy witch!
Hermione noticed her struggle. "Don't bother, you'll only exhaust yourself," she sneered. "There's no way out of this for you except for what I decide."
"Oh I don't know about that," said a voice from the half-open door.
Hermione whirled around, wand raised. But it was a fraction too slow. "Expelliarmus!" The red light appeared out of nowhere and slammed into the girl, hurling her backwards onto her bed. "Accio wand!" The wand that spun through the air halted and whizzed into the new arrival's hand.
"Honestly Hermione," said Harry, removing his Invisibility Cloak, "why you thought you could get the drop on someone who has control of Time is beyond me. And did you really think Dobby and Winky would have nothing to say when they got home and found you messing with three of their friends?" He shuddered. "You've never seen what an enraged house-elf can do."
With a quick "Finite!" he cancelled the Incarcerus spell that had imprisoned his other self.
"Gringotts vault?" he asked, getting to his feet and stretching out the kinks in his back.
"Gringotts vault," Harry agreed. "Best get going. I think three turns should be enough."
"Pleasure doing business with you," Harry saluted. He grabbed his wand from the bookstand and the Cloak from the floor and sauntered out.
"So now what?" asked Hermione coldly, sitting upright. With a slight twist of the head, she flicked a bundle of errant locks out of her eyes.
"Do you really hate us being here that much?" Harry demanded. "Yes, I used a bit of spellwork to convince your parents to take us in. But that's the only thing I did; everything else since then has been entirely their own idea. Did you know they always wanted to have more children after you but Emma had some sort of complication that made it impossible? I never knew that until they told me the other day. If you could see how Dan and Emma dote on Tom and Bella, would you really want to deprive them of that? For better or worse, they've filled a gap in your parents' lives, and it's made everyone much happier than before."
He noticed Hermione's gaze flick to her wand clasped in his other hand.
"Don't bother. You may be a prodigy Hermione, but you've never fought in a real battle before; it's nothing like the refined art of duelling. I could teach you if you want – after all, you are my best friend. It's only natural to help each other out."
Hermione sighed, and all the tension seemed to drain out of her body. She slumped. "I guess you're right." She flicked her hair away again, and in the same movement her left hand shot out and grasped the ballerina statuette on her bedside table. She hurled the knick-knack at Harry's face, simultaneously launching herself sideways away from the point of his wand.
The porcelain dancer spun through the air in a perfect pirouette and impacted directly on the scar on Harry's forehead. He yelped in pain as fragments shattered off his skull. Falling backwards, he dropped Hermione's wand in order to brace himself against the wall. The witch dived forward and seized her wand, rolling backwards and springing to her feet. "Incarcerus!"
Harry dodged and instinctively snapped off a chain of spells spread over a wide area that forced Hermione to drop to the floor to avoid.
She was back on her feet an instant later with her own spell chain.
"Protego!" Harry's shield deflected her assault, and her responsive shield blocked his follow-up Expelliarmus.
The two paused, glaring at each other, panting from the exertion.
"Never been a battle before?" Hermione sneered. "You condescending flobberworm, what in Mordred's name would you know!? I've been forced to fight battle after battle every single day I reside in Hogwarts!"
The both dropped into classic duelling stances, bodies turned to the side, one foot behind the other, wands at the neutral ready-point.
Then the half-closed door swung wide open and Emma strolled in. The woman took one glance at the scene – her daughter and Harry in wand-to-wand combat formation while she and Bella sat bound and gagged on their beds – and sighed deeply. "Dear me, Puckle – don't play so rough with your new friends! I know this the first time you've had any, but even so, a girl as smart as you should know this isn't the way to get people to like you," her mother scolded. "Dan and the elves will be back from B&Q in an hour. I'm going to get lunch started; make sure you're all cleaned up and at the table at 12:30 sharp." Emma rolled her eyes and left.
Harry and Hermione continued to watch each other warily, neither making the first move.
"Alright, fine, I get it – so you don't want to be friends again," he snorted bitterly. "So be it. How about tenants then? We need a roof over our heads in the Muggle world. So let's talk deal. What is it you want?"
"I don't want anything except for you lot to be gone!"
"Don't be absurd, of course you want something – everyone wants something! You're not the Buddha, so ask yourself, Hermione Jane Granger, what is it you want most in the whole world …?"
The girl chewed her lip.
The silence dragged on.
"We can sign a binding magical contract," he wheedled. "They exist in the wizarding world. Our magic itself will enforce it, so there's no way for us to cheat each other …"
Hermione frowned, her mind clicking away.
"Or we could just keep slinging spells at each other for another hour and stay stalemated until Dobby and Winky get home. At which point you'll be left to the 'tender mercies' of a couple of house-elves who don't know the meaning of the word 'restraint'."
The girl's lips sharpened.
Hermione finally clicked her tongue in irritation. "Tell me about time travel."
A smile cracked his face. "You can use a Turner to give yourself extra study time. You can even take extra classes. In fact, you did use it for just that purpose …"
The duo dickered over the terms for an hour, then held a truce while everyone tramped down to the dining room to enjoy lunch with Dan and Emma, then returned for more dickering for the rest of the afternoon and evening until Emma ordered lights out.
The next day found her, Harry, Bella and Hermione at the offices of Tinker and Tonks – Magical Solicitors. After some more haggling, one of the partners Ted Tonks wrote out a formal magical contract detailing their bargain. The 10 terms were as follows:
1. Harry must free Dobby and Winky and never enslave another house-elf.
2. Harry must undo all magic cast on Dan and Emma.
3. All parties to the contract must never use any magic on each other (and Dan and Emma) without that person's consent, unless it is to deal with an emergency.
4. Harry must give Hermione a Time Turner.
5. All parties to the contract must never use time travel to intentionally cause harm to each other (and Dan and Emma).
6. All parties to the contract must not intentionally cause harm to each other (and Dan and Emma) by any means.
7. Harry must pay Hermione rent in Galleons in exchange for living at her house, paid on a monthly basis into her Gringotts account. Rates to be determined by negotiation, based on market rates.
8. The adoption process will go forward, and the three newcomers will take the Granger surname. All parties to the contract must not impede this or try to have it reversed.
9. Hermione must not act to try to evict the three newcomers from the house without their consent.
10. The newcomers must not intentionally cause damage to the property, but must help maintain it; in exchange, Hermione must assist her and Bella with their Muggle and magical studies when not at boarding school.
Harry, Hermione, Bella and herself signed, and Ted witnessed it. When they returned home, Harry took the first step by explaining to Dobby and Winky that he couldn't be their master and why. This bombshell led to much weeping and gnashing of teeth. She couldn't help giggling when the two small elves proceeded to give the astonished Hermione the scolding of a lifetime for interfering with their personal affairs and sabotaging their relationship with their beloved master.
Harry then began his second round of negotiations, this time to settle employment terms with the elves. He offered to pay them 10 Galleons a week, the weekends free, and a fortnight-long paid vacation once a year. The elves proved to be powerful and cunning negotiators who drove a hard bargain. After three gruelling hours they finally beat him down to 5 Sickles a month, one free weekend a year, and no leave. Unable to withstand the onslaught, Harry caved and they shook hands to strike the bargain.
Things settled down after that.
She was anxious about sharing a bedroom with such an unstable and hostile individual, but Hermione pretended she and Bellatrix didn't exist whenever possible. Except occasionally, when she'd sense an intensive stare upon herself or Bella when no-one was looking. Well, she could tolerate that much! Her mama didn't raise no quitter … she assumed. All in all, the arrangement was fine and dandy with her. Though she did find it bewildering that the bushy-haired witch would treat everyone so coldly – the three newcomers, visitors and guests, extended family members, neighbours – except for Dan, Emma, Crookshanks and Hedwig, to whom Hermione was extremely warm and affectionate. What a mystery.
But not a mystery she was interested in solving. Fortunately she didn't have to. She and Bella gave the chestnut-eyed girl a wide berth for the next two days, and then the five of them (including the pets) had the house to themselves as Dan, Emma and Hermione flew out to southern Italy for a post-Christmas holiday they'd scheduled months in advance. When they returned, Hermione was off the next day to her fancy magical boarding school in Scotland. Good riddance.
She couldn't help the shudder of relief as the atmosphere of the house gradually returned to its status quo ante of relaxed camaraderie. She was also free to start sleeping in Harry's bed again.
She didn't bother to wait until she had a nightmare anymore. She'd creep down the hall and slip under his sheets whenever the fancy took her, and it took her more and more frequently. He'd scold her mildly but she could tell he didn't really mean it, and he still never locked his door. Nor did he return her things that she left behind.
She couldn't remember when she began leaving her possessions in his room. It was a hassle to go and fetch them all the time, she told herself. Much more efficient to keep them close at hand when she woke in the morning. And so part of his wardrobe filled with her clothes, several of his draws filled with her trinkets, and part of his bookshelf filled with her textbooks and novels.
Harry explained to her that he sent an underpowered Finite at the parents, which would weaken the Confundus he'd originally placed on them, causing it to unravel bit by bit until it broke naturally. He explained that it was more gentle on their minds that way. But there was no telling what they would do once they were no longer compelled to take the three orphans in.
So she watched them carefully for negative signals. But as the weeks went by, and she and Bella returned to school as usual, life continued on as normal. She and Harry had to conclude that the Grangers had decided to stay the course, regardless of what they may think now. He laughed and told her it was a common human experience to look back on your past decisions and wonder why the heck you chose what you did. He added that Hermione had to have inherited her stubbornness from somewhere.
The new year brought exciting changes. First, Harry gave her and Bella watches just like the ones he, Emma, Dan and Hermione had. Inside the face was a painting of Hermione, but unlike the other paintings and photos she'd seen, this one could talk, and move from watch to watch. At first she was nervous to have Hermione on her wrist at all times. For the first few weeks she could barely bring herself to look at it. But as more weeks passed, she realised that this Hermione was gentle and sweet, and was always willing to pass messages and give advice about how to do magic better. It also listened whenever she had problems or just wanted to vent.
Second, they met their magic tutors that Harry had found for them. Twice a week after school, and all weekend, she, Bella and Harry would take the mystical bus to a strange, non-Euclidean house whose geometry was all wrong, but why it was all wrong she couldn't articulate. This place, called the Rookery for some unfathomable reason (it more resembled something a bird would vomit up rather than somewhere it would live), was the home of her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes tutor, Mr Xenophilius Lovegood. The kindly man with a shock of long white hair and long white robes looked precisely like what she imagined a real, powerful wizard should look like, just like the pictures in the Lord of the Rings books that Dan read to them at bedtime every night. Mr Lovegood kindly agreed that the rest of their classes could also take place on his property, on condition that his daughter be able to attend for free whenever she wasn't in school.
Their Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration tutor was a former Auror named Madame Porpentina Scamander-Goldstein, who convinced Harry to hire on her husband, Mr Newton Scamander as their Magical Creatures tutor, and her sister Madame Queenie Kowalski-Goldstein as their Mind Magic and Charms tutor. The entire family agreed that part-time teaching of eager students in the middle of England's green and pleasant land was far more enjoyable than the mind-numbing boredom of 'peaceful retirement'. The teachers were rounded out by Mr Horace Slughorn who tutored them in Potions (after being impressed with their first attempts during a test run) and Mr Tilden Toots who tutored them in Herbology.
She and Bella agreed that their favourite class was Defence, especially combat training. Nothing could compare to the fiery glee that sprung up inside her when in pitched battle. To pit her strength and her wits and her magical strength and magical knowledge against a far more powerful opponent. Every successful hit (though rare) was a flare of joy. To her delight, as time went on she was able to land a hit more and more frequently; was able to force Madame Scamander-Goldstein – with her shock of iron-grey hair and sharp brown eyes that seemed to pierce right through her heart – to dodge more quickly, to cast more powerful spells faster.
Harry would sport a complicated look every time she or Bella were praised by their tutors. 'Geniuses' they'd say, or 'prodigies', or 'they suck up every bit of knowledge at a rapid pace' or 'where on earth did you find these gems?'. But even so, he made sure to smile and stroke their hair while telling them how proud he was.
Every few months, Hermione would return home. She didn't trust the girl, she never forgot the icy stare in those merciless orbs on that day. She dreaded to think about what might have happened if Harry hadn't outsmarted her. But Hermione stuck to the terms of the contract, and didn't cause trouble. Her fear of the girl gradually faded into a sort of benign tolerance. Like one would tolerate an unsightly birthmark.
Harry never give up his efforts to win the witch over. He often tried to engage her in conversation, which was usually rebuffed or ignored. When she was at Hogwarts, he'd send messages via the watch and letters via Hedwig. These were also usually ignored. Dan and Emma would roll their eyes, and encourage him not to give up.
For reasons inexplicable to her, Bellatrix started to get on board this bandwagon as well. She'd no idea why any sane person would take a shine to Hermione, but the proof was before her eyes. Whenever Hermione was present, Bella was always hovering around and seeking her attention. Amazingly enough, the witch herself seemed to grow more relaxed around the boisterous Bellatrix the more she made herself a nuisance. Hermione started to take the time to sit and chat, come along to her tutoring sessions, and take her on trips through Muggle London. Nobody else knew where they went or what they did, and the duo weren't talking.
One day she found Harry poring over The Daily Prophet's real estate section.
"I'm looking for some potential properties," he explained. "Dan and Emma have been very good to us, but we can't stay here forever. Hermione and I have a handshake agreement that the three of us will move out once you and Bellatrix obtain your N.E.W.T.s at the latest. Better to prepare earlier rather than later."
She felt her heart clench painfully at the thought she and Harry would go live in different homes in the future. Ruthlessly suppressing the urge to panic, she began to plan. The best way to prevent a potential separation would be to obtain a home big enough and ideal enough to keep all three of them (and Hedwig) happy forever. It also needed a place for Dan and Emma to stay when they visited.
Harry's distrust of the magical and Muggle governments must have rubbed off on her, since her top criteria was freedom from such pesky things as regulations, taxes, Aurors, bobbies, or any other type of official oversight. But that was easier said than done. Both governments had been around for centuries and were well-practised in preventing what was, in effect, a form of secession. Undeterred, she bent her prodigious mind to the problem. The solution to which arrived in a rather unexpected manner.
"Eureka!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her bed.
"Hm?" Bella looked up from her work. Hedwig uttered a displeased prek to protest that her grooming had been interrupted.
"The answer to where we can live – Azkaban!"
"You want us to go live in Azkaban? Did you transfigure your brains into instant noodles?"
"No no no, not the place, the concept! According to Historia Britannica Magica, back in the 1400s, a foreign sorcerer called Ekrizdis settled on an uninhabited island in the North Sea. He used magic to enlarge the land mass and built a giant fortress on top, wherein he performed insane experiments on passing Muggle sailors. He made the whole island unplottable to wizards and invisible to Muggles. Apparently the Ministry had no idea it even existed until after he died and the concealment wards eventually dissipated. When they came to investigate they discovered the stronghold swarming with Dementors and since didn't know how to destroy the demons they turned it into a magical prison. And so Azkaban came into being."
"Ugh!" Bellatrix shivered, cuddling Hedwig closer to deflect the bad vibes. "What a ghastly story! Are you saying you want to do something similar? 'Cause if so, you can go tramping around the Arctic by your lonesome!"
"Not quite. A distant island is too much trouble. But we can find our own bit of land and layer it with our own set of wards to hide it from both the Ministry and the Muggles. Especially this gem," she waved a different tome in the air. "The Fidelius Charm – the ne plus ultra for making your property disappear, and even removing all knowledge of the place itself from everyone's minds to boot. Perfect for keeping unwanted people and governments out of our hair."
She tapped her lip pensively.
"But buying up land and hiring experts to establish high-level wards sounds expensive. I'll have to ask Madame Scamander-Goldstein."
Her tutor confirmed her fears – to vanish from the Ministry's radar entirely would require hiring experienced ward-masters to construct world-class defences. The costs could range from tens of thousands of Galleons to hundreds of thousands of Galleons, depending on the number of wards installed and the size of the area to be shielded.
But where to get these funds? She knew Harry had a vault full of gold, but that was being used to pay rent to Hermione, to cover their magical tutors' fees, and to take her and Bella on trips through the wizarding world. She doubted those costs were cheap. Dan and Emma were wealthy but they were already providing food, shelter, clothing and schooling. No, she needed a separate source of Galleons. But where oh where could a budding young Muggleborn sorceress get ahold of tens of thousands of Galleons?
"Why don't we rob the Bank of England," suggested Bella. "They must have tons of gold hidden away. We swipe it and bring it to the goblins to convert to Galleons."
"Where specifically does the Bank keeps its gold?" she asked.
"Ah, in a vault somewhere …?" Bella offered tentatively.
"Brilliant deduction, Watson. And do you know how heavy a ton of gold is? How are we supposed to move it? Gold is resistant to most magics, including Featherlight Charms. Do you want Dobby and Winky to kill themselves trying to elf 'pop' it all to our house?"
"Alright, alright, so that's a bust. Then how about we rig the National Lottery," suggested Bella.
"You have any idea how to do that?" she asked, not bothering to hide the scepticism this time.
"Uuuh, sneak into the TV studio and Confound the ball-spinning girl into only picking our numbers …?"
She didn't deign to dignify that plan with a response. "Too risky. We want to stay under the radar. We need something less high-profile."
"Let's charge tickets to view the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," suggested Luna Lovegood, tickling the Niffler on her tummy. The creature chittered in pleasure. "Oooh, that cloud looks just like one. It's a sign!"
The three teens lay sprawled in a meadow near the Rookery, enjoying the afternoon sun. She rolled onto her back and stared at the cloud in question. She was no artist but to her eyes the only thing the cloud resembled was Harry's head – if it had been beaten with bludgers for several days.
"Excellent plan, with only three minor drawbacks," she drawled. "One, we don't have any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks; two, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are invisible, unsmellable and untouchable; and three, there's no such thing as Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."
"Oh Tom, spoken like a true philistine. I never would've thought you'd lower yourself to the delusions of the ignorant masses. Honestly, I'm shocked at your closed-mindedness; haven't you learned anything from Bella?" Luna sighed in mock-disappointment
"Not if I can help it."
"Oi! I'll show you, you unbearable know-it-all!" Bella squawked in protest and dived on top of her. The two rolled around in the grass for a while (Luna providing colour commentary) until the bigger girl finally pinned her down. "Hah! What're you gonna do now, oh omniscient and omnipotent one?"
She bit Bella's nose.
"Ouch! Oh that does it –"
The bucolic serenity was shattered by high-pitched shrieking.
"What happened to you two?" asked Newt Scamander a while later, eyeing their wild hair and numerous scratches and bite marks.
"They had the misfortune to fall into a nest of wrackspurts," Luna reported with suitable gravity. "Isn't that right, Sir Longnose Maplethorn IV?" The Niffler on her shoulder keened in agreement.
"I … see …"
"We were trying to think of ways to make pocket money from magical creatures," said Bellatrix, fluttering her eyelashes in the most adorable way possible. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a good way to make gold would you, sir?"
"Hmm, you could always get a few Galleons removing gnomes and pixies from people's gardens …"
She shook her head. "No good. We need something that'll earn thousands of Galleons."
The elderly man spat out his tea. "What in Merlin's name do you need so much money for!?"
"Um, feminine products and such …" she scrambled for an excuse.
"Yeah!" Bella ran with it. "Lots of lots of feminine products. And contraceptive elixirs. And depilatory potions. And underwear. Fancy underwear. Girls need lots and lots of fancy underwear –"
"Enough! I get it, I get it!" Newt rubbed his eyes tiredly, muttering under his breath about how glad he was he'd never had any daughters. "I'm sorry to tell you ladies, but the only way to earn the kind of gold you're after is through the bounty system."
"What's that?"
Their tutor explained that Gringotts, potions masters and magical creature rendering plants all had standing offers to buy creature parts from the general public. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures set minimum purchase prices. As a general rule, the greater the rarity, the higher the price. Centaurs, Veela, Merpeople, giants, succubi and unicorns were listed as protected species and killing them was murder under the law. Werewolves, boggarts, Dementors, lethifolds and vampires were worthless as raw materials. But dangerous creatures with a Ministry rating of XXXXX (highly lethal) could be legally killed on sight by any wizard, and the carcass belonged to the slayer.
She made a thoughtful noise. "What sort of XXXXX creatures would be the most profitable?"
"Dragons and nundu," Scamander said immediately. "But they're almost impossible to find outside of reserves these days, and hunting inside a designated reserve will get you packed off to Azkaban faster'n you can say 'mimbulus mimbletonia'. If I were you, I'd stick to gnomes, pixies and doxies."
Harry's response to their enquiries the next day was far more useful.
"Hmmm, I do know a place overflowing with nasty beasties that have no place being so near a bunch innocent children … how much can you get for Acromantulae?"
She excitedly owled several companies for estimates. Only Longbottom's Rock Bottom Prices responded.
Harry's eyebrow lifted at the quote. "100 Galleons a pint for the venom, 50 Galleons for the silk glands, 250 Galleons for the entire carcass. 300 Galleons if the carcass is less than two days old … that settles it. Who's up for a visit to the Forbidden Forest?"
So for the next five months, they adopted a new custom. Every Friday night, they would pack up a magical tent, expandable trunk, food and drinks, and farewell Dan and Emma to go 'camping' until Sunday night. Luckily the Grangers never realised that Dan's diesel chainsaw went missing at exactly the same times. Upon arrival at the Forbidden Forest, Harry would lead her and Bellatrix to wage war on the Acromantula colony. She and Bella became proficient at stunners, shields and fire spells. The elves were a huge help. The same magic Harry had seen Dobby use to smack Lucius Malfoy around in another lifetime was equally effective at hurling rocks at giant spiders at tremendous speed. On Mondays, Harry and the elves would lug the remains to the Longbottoms' rendering plant and collect their bounty, which was deposited 50-50 in her and Bella's new Gringotts vaults.
"Our friendly neighbourhood spiderman sure was one tough webslinger," Harry commented as they strolled down Diagon Alley one fine day. "I'd say he was harder to take down than the twenty who attacked us en masse last month."
Bellatrix cheered in response. That bloody raid was one of her fondest memories.
"Enjoy arachnid hell, Aragog. Serves you right for trying to eat Ron and I," Harry muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Beautiful day today, isn't it?"
She and Bella had each claimed one of his hands and refused to relinquish them. They were showing off their brand-new fashionable robes while Harry opted to go Muggle, preferring jeans, a T-shirt, Man United cap and Ray Bans. The shrunken trunk containing the last earthly remains of the Acromantula patriarch was tucked into his back pocket.
The team stopped at the checkpoint and presented their wands for inspection. While one Auror cast Priori Incantatem, another peppered them with detection spells. Cleared, they stepped through to the other side of the street.
"The elves have searched the entire forest, there's nothing but unicorns and Centaurs left," Bella complained. "What are we going to do with our weekends now?"
"Study?" offered Harry.
"Find another XXXXX monster and harvest it for parts. Something bigger, I think."
"How did I end up with such bloodthirsty companions?" Harry mock-lamented.
"Wait a minute!" Bella shouted. "Where's my package? I had it tucked under my arm just a moment ago!"
"Mundungus Fletcher!" bellowed a stern voice.
The shabby man who'd just walked past the group stiffened. A burly Auror approached wearing his distinctive brown robes.
"Ehehe wotcher, Auror Proudfoot. How's your beat this fine morn?"
"'Tis a fine morn indeed – and you know what would make it even finer? If you were to turn out your pockets for me. Right this instant."
"Of course, of course, I'm an upstanding citizen I am, always ready to assist an officer of the law. Now let's see –" Fletcher abruptly whirled around and tore down Diagon Alley at remarkable speeds.
The Auror cursed and gave chase, wand slashing through the air as a cluster of brightly-coloured spells launched at the fleeing suspect.
Harry swept her and Bella into his arms and dived out of the way of the scuffle. "Ooof!" he grunted as his body cushioned their fall.
Fletcher was swift on his feet, nimbly dodging and weaving away from the hail of hexes. He soon found himself blocked by the checkpoint, its guards already forming up, wands out.
Skidding to a halt, the man reached under his shirt and fiddled with something that glinted gold. There was a whirr and a puff of magic, and he was gone!
"Morgana's mange!" Proudfoot cursed. "Not another one!"
Harry pulled the girls to their feet and helped dust them off.
"I can't believe it. Robbed! Moi!" Bella's chest heaved, breathing hitched. The girl seemed a whisker away from bursting into tears.
Harry snickered. "Joke's on him. What dya think his reaction will be when he opens it up and finds a bundle of Acromantula eggs?"
She giggled. "With any luck, they'll hatch and get to enjoy him as their first meal."
Bella's teary eyes faded away … to be replaced by a vicious smirk. She started to chuckle in a low register.
"How did I end up with such bloodthirsty companions, Hermione?" Harry repeated. Looking down, he noticed the portrait in his watch was staring daggers at him. "What?" he demanded defensively.
"That criminal had a Time Turner, I'm almost certain of it. And my gut is telling me this is somehow your fault."
"You don't have a gut, you're a magical painting. Besides –"
Puff!
The conversation died as a hideous crone carrying a sack full of mysterious items suddenly materialised in front of them. The Hag's eyes darted around until she spotted the Aurors milling about in Fletcher's wake. She uttered a squawk of frustration and took off like a shot in the opposite direction. Some officers raced after her.
"Hmm. Maybe the situation is getting out of hand … perhaps I should go back in time and stop myself from enacting Operation Unload …" he mused. Then seemed to realise he'd said that out loud. Hermione was glaring at him. "Er, I mean, it's time for us to finish the operation and unload Aragog's corpse at Longbottom's. Come on, team, let's earn some Galleons!"
Longbottom's Rock Bottom Prices were happy to pay top dollar for Aragog. Their contacts Myra Curio and Sage Bragnam were crestfallen that this was the final shipment and that the eggs had been stolen. Now they couldn't develop their own spider farm.
To celebrate the successful and profitable eradication of the Acromantula threat, she invited Harry for some one-on-one time at Hyde Park, her treat. They found a lovely streetside café and settled down for a traditional Devonshire tea.
"Okay Tom, what's bothering you?" he asked, buttering his scone.
"What makes you think something's wrong?" she shot back. Not good, that sounded too defensive.
"Come on Tom, we've known each other for almost three years now. I think I can tell if something's eating you. I've been waiting for the past two months to see if you'd ever come clean about it."
She started. Was she that transparent? What a hateful thought! On the other hand, this was as good an opening as she'd ever be likely to get. Fortune favours the bold.
She took a deep, steading breath and began. "You know how we've been studying Occlumency with Madame Kowalski-Goldstein? Well, she's been working with me to help me look into my core to find my spirit-animal and start to visualise it."
"Aiming to become an animagus?"
"Absolutely. And so are you, so you can stop pretending you're above it all!"
He smirked and took a sip of his tea.
She wondered how she could possibly articulate something she'd only been vaguely aware of for the longest time. But as her Occlumency improved, it was becoming so clear she couldn't keep ignoring it or denying it.
Come on you can do this, she said to herself. It's not like we're strangers. He's right, we've known each other for almost three years. You know what he's like. There's nothing to worry about.
Thoughts that were once elusive, dancing on the edge of her consciousness, gradually became a swelling tide, pushing stronger against her will, trying to burst free. She'd held it back, terrified of spilling the secrets nestled deep within her heart.
She stretched out and clasped his hand. That's it, it felt right to touch. Harry was kind. He never withheld warmth and comfort from her. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest.
He was there with her right from the very beginning. The only thing in this world she was connected to. The link felt frighteningly fragile and insubstantial, but it was there, she was sure of it. She was almost sure he could feel it too. Whenever a powerful emotion swept through her, she saw a flash of it in his eyes … but maybe, maybe it was just empathy or sympathy. Just another facet of his kindness. She could never quite convince herself one way or the other. But there was one thing she was certain of: when she looked at him, something stirred deep within her. His magic moved in sync with her own deepest rhythm.
"We're connected!" she blurted. Then suddenly blushed scarlet when she realised she'd said it out loud.
"Tom?" he blinked in surprise.
Shame and embarrassment overwhelmed her senses, but it was too late he was staring at her there was no helping it now why wouldn't he stop looking at her she should run she should run she should run as far and as fast as she could the words she should never have spoken were loose there was no taking them back she was driven into a corner run away run away!
In spite of her panic, she grit her teeth, dug her heels into the soft ground and refused to flee before her roiling emotions. There was no option but to charge forward.
She thumped her chest. "I mean we're connected here! There's a link between the two of us … inside … I mean … well, isn't there?!"
Harry raised an eyebrow. But he didn't laugh or fob her off with platitudes like she expected. Instead he carefully placed his teacup onto the table and met her gaze. The piercing green eyes stared at her intently for an eternal, agonising minute, before he nodded. To her shock, he didn't mock her silly fantasies – he actually agreed with her! "You're right, Tom. We are connected. In a lot of ways. I was hoping you wouldn't notice but …" he sighed. "I suppose it was a fool's hope."
She blinked. She had no idea what he meant by that.
"I've no clue how it all works here, in this world … heh, not like I understood it in the last one either," he mumbled. His hand reached up to rub the lightning-bolt scar across his forehead.
Her free hand instinctively reached out as well, sliding her delicate fingers underneath his to directly touch the scarred flesh for the first time. Her eyes widened at the contact; she could feel something roiling within her, and it seemed it was in him too. Her fingers tingled like they were full of static.
"It's true," she whispered. "You are the other half of my soul …"
"Yep," he sighed again. "Probably more literally than when most people say that. Magic isssss a beautiful and terrible thing …"
The last phrase was a serpentine hiss. It sent a shiver down her spine and raised all the fine hairs on her neck and arms. Not because she was afraid, but because the sound thrilled her to her core. And because she could understand every word.
"What issss going on?" she asked, her tongue dancing in ways she'd never imagined possible.
"Don't know. Why don't we go asssssk ssssome expertsssss?"
Rising from the table, he tossed down some notes and tugged on her hand, raising her to her (unsteady) feet. Harry escorted her to the London Zoo, where they spent the remainder of the day deep in discussion with the inhabitants of the Reptile House.
I
IIIIIII
I
5 August 1997
Charlus Sirius Potter seized the Quaffle and dived, neatly dodging the interception by his two younger sisters Ivy and Rose. He accelerated across the pitch, but had to pull up abruptly to avoid the bludger that shot across his bow.
"Now, Remus!" shouted James.
The werewolf batted his own bludger at enormous speed towards Charlie, who was forced into a series of tight loops to avoid it.
While he was distracted, Ivy, Rose and Dean Thomas charged towards him in triangle formation. He was out of time.
"Sirius!" Charlie yelled, hurling the Quaffle to the dog-animagus.
His godfather snatched the ball out of the air and whirled towards the goal, the Diggory brothers Cedric and Walter moving up to cover the man's flanks. Their father Amos smacked his own bludger at James and Remus to prevent them from regrouping.
"*Alright you lot, time to come in now!*" bellowed Dorea from the ground. Her Sonorus Charm could still pack a wallop even from hundreds of metres away. No Howler could compare.
Remus swung his broom around to a halt. "What's going on? There's still another hour or two of daylight left."
"*Professor McGonagall has arrived and needs to speak with the children. Now hurry and get washed up, you don't want to greet our guest sweating like Manticores!*"
James sighed. "Guess the match is over. Come on kids, you heard your great-aunt. Get cracking."
"I suppose it is time for Cedric, Walter and I to head home. Don't want to be late for supper," added Amos.
"I should probably get going too," Dean sighed.
The Potter children and Sirius grizzled and groaned loudly but (reluctantly) bid farewell to the Diggories and Dean and drifted inside and to their bathrooms. Once in a respectable state, the inhabitants of Potter Manor made their way to the living room, where they found the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts sipping tea with Euphemia, Dorea, Lily, Fleamont and Charlus.
"What can we do for you, Minnie?" Sirius asked.
"You can wash your mouth out with soapy suds for me if you ever utter the name 'Minnie' again, you mangy mutt," she said acerbically. Turning to the younger Potters, she gestured the girls over. "I happened to be passing along the roadway outside your house and came across these lost items." She extracted two envelopes from her purse. "I do believe they belong to the twins."
Frowning, Ivy and Rose cautiously reached out and accepted the envelopes with their names on them. Out dropped small golden badges into their slender hands.
"Ahhhh! Prefect badges!" Rose shrieked. "We're prefects!"
Ivy didn't bother with words, but whooped with joy.
The edges of McGonagall's lips curled upwards.
"As if there were ever any doubt," Euphemia chuckled.
Lily laughed. Seizing a hand of each of her daughters she led three redheaded sirens around and around in a chaotic circular dance while the others clapped and cheered. Euphemia and Dorea joined them.
"I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" Lily squealed. "How wonderful! My two special girls are prefects as well! That's everyone in the family!"
"Oi! What are Sirius and I, house-elves?" James mock-pouted. The females did not bother to acknowledge his presence. "Well Padfoot, I can see where we stand in the grand scheme of things."
"Right put us in our place it has," Sirius nodded gravely.
"Everyone knows the smallest dog barks loudest," Charlie smirked.
"Such cheek," Sirius growled, grabbing the boy in a headlock. "I'll show you how the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black deals with insolence!"
"Unhand my son, you knave!" demanded James, grabbing both of them in headlocks. "This is why nobody lets Black family members into their homes!"
"Such pitiful fisticuffs, it seems a professional will need to show you how it's done," Remus lamented, and dived in.
The groups continued to dance, or scuffle, or observe, as was their want, until eventually everyone tired and wended their way into the dining room for an impromptu house-party. The house-elves busily prepared dish after dish, and James even broke out his 200-year-old bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.
"While I'm here, I'd like to give you girls your first assignment as prefects," McGonagall announced during a break in the conversation.
"Eh, already?" blinked Ivy.
"You don't need to do anything until September 1. You see, three new students will be transferring into Hogwarts. Heretofore they have lived in the Muggle world and been home-schooled in witchcraft and wizardry. But in preparation for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s they have opted to attend Hogwarts for the whole year, so much the better to spend their time really soaking up magical knowledge full-time in an all-wizarding environment. Two are girls who will be beginning fifth-year with you, and the other is a boy who will be beginning his seventh-year. Hogwarts would be most appreciative if Ivy, Rose and Charlie could look after them."
"By 'look after', you mean …?" asked Charlie suspiciously.
"I mean, meet them at the Platform, show them the ropes of the Express, and help them fit into to Hogwarts. Perhaps guide them around the castle, introduce them to their fellow fifth, sixth and seventh years? Having some familiar faces their own ages to escort them would do wonders in getting them comfortable with their surroundings."
"Familiar? We've never even met!"
"You may not be familiar with them, but they are almost certainly familiar with you. In fact, I doubt there is a magical teen alive in Britain who isn't intimately familiar with the Potter children's exploits."
"You're making me blush," Ivy said drily.
"But the same is true of the Longbottom kids," pointed out Rose.
"Unfortunately, Neville and Allison are currently touring the ruins of Central America with their parents to improve their curse-breaking skills, and will not be returning to Britain until a week into the term." McGonagall's slight scowl revealed her own opinions on that desecration of the Hogwarts school year.
Charlie saw the beaming pride on his mother's face. "I guess we could give it a try," he said grudgingly.
"I am most pleased to hear that. Their names are Harry, Bellatrix and Tamsin Granger."
"Granger!?" Charlie spluttered his Butterbeer everywhere.
McGonagall scowled at his manners. "They are indeed Miss Granger's siblings."
"Hang on, if they're Hermione's brother and sisters why haven't they been at Hogwarts all this time?" Rose wondered.
"That is a matter known only to themselves, their parents, and anyone they wish to take into their confidence," McGonagall said with finality.
"Even so, since they're Hermione's family why doesn't she take them around and show them the ropes?" Ivy persisted.
McGonagall grimaced. "Miss Granger is not a prefect and so it is not her responsibility to oversee new students. In addition, while an outstanding student and a credit to Gryffindor and all of Hogwarts, she is not the most … how should I put this? … sociable person in Hogwarts."
"That's putting it mildly," muttered Charlie.
"In any case, I would feel far more comfortable if you three made the introductions."
"Minerva," interjected Lily with a sly smile, "Your request wouldn't happen to have anything to do with wanting to encourage these transferees to join Gryffindor would it?"
"I'll have you know that in my role as Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have always comported myself with the strictest adherence to the principles of fairness and impartiality when it comes to matters of school houses," McGonagall said primly. She took another sip of her Firewhiskey. "That being said, it is true that Professor Flitwick's endless crowing about Ravenclaw's dominance in the last set of O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. rankings has become tiresome of late. Even though I've passed on the mantle of Head of Gryffindor to you Lily, once a Lion always a Lion. One can take the person out of the Pride, but not the Pride out of the person. While Harry's marks are approximately an E average, decent but not impressive, both Tamsin and Bellatrix are quite brilliant, even more so than their older sister. True prodigies, in fact. Even though they are only 14 they are advanced enough to take their O.W.L.s a year early, and I've no doubt that with the tried-and-true framework of the Hogwarts curriculum, and additional teaching support from the faculty, they are well positioned to break Ministry records ..."
Just what I need, sighed Charlie to himself. More eggheads. This year's going to be just brilliant with another two Hermiones running loose. I wonder if they've got a better sense of humour than that block of ice … Better stock up with an extra load of pranking supplies from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes …
Next Time on ATTR: Chapter 5 – Where in the World is Harry Potter?