Chapter 8
THE DAILY PROPHET
Rita Skeeter
HARRY POTTER: NEW LORD OF ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSEHOLD OF POTTER DEBUTS AS A NEW ALLY TO THE DARK LORD!
It may be a surprise to all that James Potter was not the filial husband or father as we thought. Somehow under our noses, James left an illegitimate son, Harry James Potter. A surprising turn of events as James named Harry as his heir only to be taken upon conditions fulfilled. Investigation results revealed that James had changed his will a month before passing away in battle—possibly sensing he would not make it and made preparations to protect his wife and child, Lily and Hazel Potter.
The arrangement placed upon Harry Potter seemed to have paid off. The young lord debuted before Lord Voldemort and, in exchange for pardoning war criminals of The Order of the Phoenix, allied himself and all parties to the Dark Lord.
As it seems, Harry appears to conform to Pureblood traditions being one himself. He makes an impressive display of good faith by following the new laws regarding muggle-borns and shackling Hermione Granger, ex-war criminal of The Order, to himself.
The Light has seemingly been snuffed out, and we have yet to see more of Harry Potter and what he will bring to the magical world of Britain alongside the Dark Lord.
o-o-o-o
Snap.
It was strange. Hermione knew that it was just a piece of wood. Her magic was still in her in full. Harry was even teaching her how to use magic without a wand.
But still.
Watching her wand get snapped was painful to watch.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she willed them not to fall.
They were partially right that Sirius and Neville got to keep their wand, but surprisingly, all the Weasleys but their muggle-born spouses were able to keep theirs as well, being purebloods. Everyone else had their wand taken away and snapped. Fleur, who was ruled as half-human, wasn't able to keep her wand either. It wasn't like those who kept their wands got off any better. Dolohov came with some kind of metal coil that twined around their wands—a limiter.
Aside from casting basic magic and defensive spells, their wands might as well have been snapped too.
Dolohov looked sickeningly smug to be snapping Hermione's wand, setting all the piles of broken wands on fire. He was staring at her chest unabashedly as if he could will himself to see through her clothing and the scar he left over her chest.
It made her feel exposed and dirty. She wanted to curl away from him but forced herself to stand still, unmoving and emotionless in her spot.
"Are you done staring?"
Hermione's breath hitched at Harry's cold words while Dolohov snapped his eyes over.
"You'll have to forgive me, Potter," Dolohov drawled, his eye trailing again to Hermione. "You've got quite the...feisty one. Delectable, though she is a mudblood, after all. Miss Granger and I have...history, you could say." He was smirking again.
Harry's head dipped a bit as he chuckled lowly—Dolohov taking it as a good sign. Harry walked towards the Death Eater, standing next to him in front of the burning wood. Lowering himself to the ground, Harry grabbed a random broken piece of wand, half of it on fire, licking its way down the rest of the stick.
Harry turned it in his hand as if he were observing it before turning and stabbed the burning, flaming tip of the wood through Dolohov's foot. The wand went right through Dolohov's shoe until the tip grated against the floor. The Death Eater bent over and wailed loudly, clutching his ankle. Normally, he would've left the stick in, but the fire was created by magic and didn't go out as easily.
Dolohov hastily grabbed the wand out, giving himself a couple of splinters from the broken end before dropping the stick. Blood instantly began to pool out of his shoe.
"What the FUCK!" Dolohov screamed at Harry. "Do you know who I am! You'll pay for that, you motherfucker!"
Dolohov was about to rip out his wand when Harry whipped his out faster, twirling it once before a sharp flip, and the Death Eater was rooted in his spot, unable to move anything but his eyes.
Harry put his wand away before he leisurely pulled at the handkerchief in his breast pocket, drawing it out with a flick. He used it to wipe his hand, removing the specks of blood that had come out when he stabbed Dolohov abruptly.
When he was done, he dropped the handkerchief into the firepit on the floor.
"Mr. Dolohov, you seem to be under some kind of delusion. I don't think you understand who I am," Harry cocked his brow at Dolohov, who was sure to be shaking with rage if it were not for the spell he was under. "You are a Death Eater. I'm the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
Harry adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt as he spoke, turning away from Dolohov.
"You're a Death Eater, a loyal and trusted follower of Lord Voldemort's—be grateful that the likes of you have been privileged such a station," Harry turned back. "But I am a guest and an ally of the Dark Lord. I have proved my strength and ruthlessness, and soon, will prove why I am an ally—not a follower."
Harry walked until he stood face to face with Dolohov, eyes glinting of thinly veiled danger. "So, if you simply cannot understand—I'm saying we're not the same. You are beneath me. You come into my home, scuff my floors with your poor judgment on how to set flames to something as simple as wands. You disrespect me by openly staring at what's mine."
Harry would've snarled, he really would have, but he kept his calm facade. "Whether she's a mudblood, a pureblood, a witch, a muggle, an animal, a plant, or simply air—she belongs to me. I don't take kindly to people that are foolish enough to encroach on things that belong to me. Unless you want to find yourself with permanent loss of your feet, mind yourself of who I am, and that your 'history' means nothing to me."
The room was silent. No one dared to even breathe loudly.
"Now," Harry said, "When I release you, you will remember your station and address me as Lord Potter, finish what you were here to report and instruct and be on your way, won't you?" He stared at Dolohov as if the Death Eater was capable of responding in any way for a long moment before he pulled his wand and flicked it in a sharp movement that released the frozen man.
When Dolohov was able to move again, his first instinct was to start throwing out curses from his wand, but he restrained himself. Never mind that Harry could potentially defeat him in battle, but his lord would be displeased, and that would lead to something worse than being defeated by Harry.
Dolohov could see his mistake in not recognizing Harry as a possessive man.
"Lord Potter," Dolohov spat. "Lord Voldemort sends his regards and wishes to see you sooner. He invites you back to Hogwarts in one week's time for a private lunch."
Dolohov doesn't ask whether Harry accepts or not as there truly is no choice in the matter.
"Please send my regards back to Lord Voldemort and I will arrive by noon to meet with him," Harry tells Dolohov. "I trust you can find your way out?"
Dolohov stiffly bowed, collecting the ashes of the burnt wands, and limped his way out before apparating just outside the wards.
Once he's gone out of sight, everyone let out the breath they didn't even realize they were holding. Harry pretended he didn't notice, turning to his group with blank eyes.
The new muggle-borns were staring at him, fear in their eyes as they witnessed the violent act he did against Dolohov.
"See to it that the scuffs on the floor are done away," Harry directed to no one in particular. He walked up to Hermione, eyes narrowing slightly at her. She was glaring back at him, and he wasn't sure if it was for show or not.
At least Dolohov was right that she was feisty. No matter what situation she was in, a fighting spirit was something Harry had always found attractive.
"Walk with me to my study room," Harry cocked his brow at her, and Hermione stiffly nodded. Harry then turned to Sirius as well. "I will leave you to tend to matters for the day, but come see me in my study in about ten minutes before you disperse for the day."
Sirius nodded, and Harry turned to walk, Hermione following along after him without looking at anyone else.
The walk to the study room was silent until Harry opened the door to the room, letting Hermione in first before he shut the door behind him.
Immediately, Hermione let out a shaky breath, tears forming in her eyes.
Harry was unsure what to do because he didn't know why the tears were building. He didn't think it would be a good idea to touch her if it was because of him.
"I know it's stupid—but my wand—" Hermione said between shaky breaths, focusing on not letting her tears fall.
Harry nearly let out a sigh of relief. He immediately walked to her, grabbed her hand, and got her to sit down in one of the chairs. He conjured a glass of water, passing it to her.
"It's not stupid," he reassured her. "Your wand has been with you, since what? You said you got your wand at 11, right? It's been your trusted partner for a long time."
Hermione nodded, tears falling over uncontrollably. "I just...I know we're just in the beginning of training with wandless magic, but I can't help but feel like I'm starting over. It's not something I excel at immediately. I get tired fast and I can't even do any complicated magic. How am I supposed to protect everyone? How do I keep keep everyone safe?"
Harry wiped her tears away with his thumb. "You're doing amazing, Hermione. For someone who is just starting to learn wandless magic, you are well above the average person. But this is now a group effort. You don't need to try to protect everyone and keep everyone safe."
Hermione grimaced, opening her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off.
"You are still so important to the group. I know everyone else still needs you. But all that other stuff, leave it to me. That's why Sirius made that contract with me," Harry told her, smiling to try to lighten the mood.
"And who will protect you? Who will keep you safe?" Hermione miserably spoke. The tears kept welling in her eyes, and it frustrated her. "Isn't that what I promised you?"
Harry placed his hands on her knees. She wore a dress today, a long, plain one that went all the way down to her ankles. It was burgundy in color with absolutely zero decorative designs on it. Hermione had even managed to wrangle her curls into a plain bun on the back of her head.
Honestly, she looked like she just came out of a nunnery, but Harry couldn't stop staring at her—specifically her neck.
"Protecting me doesn't have to mean you are physically there to fight beside me in battles," Harry told her. "You protect me by all the work you do behind the scenes—otherwise I would never get any sleep. You keep me safe when we make plans together. I'm only good at what I do knowing that the back end is taken care of. I think you know that I'm perfectly fine on the front end if today's indication was anything."
Hermione managed a weak smile at that. "That was gruesome what you did to Dolohov. I think you scared the others."
Harry shrugged. "I can't afford to let Death Eaters think they can push my boundaries because of the situation we're in and because of who I'm housing. Any signs of weakness will have them quickly attempting to wipe us out. Plus, he was staring at your chest."
"No complaints here," Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure you know what he was trying to stare at." She referred to the incident at the Department of Mysteries where Dolohov had cast a lethal curse at her but was thwarted by Hermione's quick thinking of casting a silencing charm.
"Can I ask why you had all decided to go to the Department of Mysteries?" Harry questioned. When he reviewed the memories, it was unclear from Neville's and Ron's perspectives.
"We had intel at the time that there was some prophecy regarding Voldemort in there—it was an incredibly old one, it must've been when he was still a student at Hogwarts. It was eluding to who his lineage really was and the Horcruxes he was creating. At that time, we had only managed to discover the diary and the ring because of Dumbledore." Hermione shrugged. "It was a trap, though. Intel that Riddle wanted us to get to lure us out."
"So, there really wasn't a prophecy?" Harry surmised, and Hermione nodded.
"No," Hermione confirmed. "Or at least, Riddle had gotten it long before we knew of it. We managed to get more Horcruxes by good old fashion research and theorizing, but we don't know if there's more than what we know."
"List what you have."
Hermione held up her fingers as she counted. "The diary, the ring, the locket, and the cup."
Harry hummed. "There's probably two more."
"How do you figure?" Hermione tilted her head, hand coming back down to her glass of water.
"In magic, there are a couple of numbers considered to be powerful. In terms of being associated with the soul, number seven would be our lucky number," Harry informed. "You know the famous muggle saying, 'seven years of bad luck for breaking a mirror'?"
Hermione nodded, blinking as she leaned forward unintentionally.
"It comes from the Roman belief of the human soul being able to extend the soul every 7 years," Harry tapped his index finger on Hermione's knees. "Two more, including the body he's inhabiting—"
"Makes seven," Hermione breathed in realization, eyes widening slightly. "So, that also means that Riddle was only able to create a Horcrux every seven years?"
Harry nodded. "Most likely. I also just believe it's impossible to split your soul more than seven ways. There wouldn't be enough essence to spread out more than seven times."
Hermione sighed. "The last two could be anything. There's no specific way to know for sure until we attempt to destroy the item."
Harry shrugged. "Since there are only two left, we can safely assume that Riddle will keep them close. He can't create any more Horcruxes, so he has to be able to protect the ones he has. He probably still thinks that the Cup is still within the Lestange's vaults and will leave it there because Gringott's is supposed to be the most secure place."
Hermione nodded, letting out another puff of air. They were so lucky, she realized somberly. Lucky because without Harry, the Goblins may not have opened Bellatrix's vault even if they were against Horcruxes.
Clearly, the Goblins revered Harry in some way. They respected him and obviously were expecting something in return from him.
The sudden overwhelming feeling of wanting to know more about Harry overcame her.
What did it mean to be a king?
What was his past?
Who were his subjects? Did they respect and love him?
Was he a kind and just king?
What kind of wars did he have to fight?
Had he even wanted to be a king?
Did he rule by himself, or did he have a...queen?
Had he trusted anyone to help him, or did he bear the burden alone?
A lump started to form in the back of Hermione's throat at all the questions she had and unable to form any words.
Harry simply stared at her with his viridian eyes and a curious tilt of his head as he regarded her.
Before Hermione could say anything to him, there was a knock on his door. Standing up, Harry put his hand in his pant pockets as he turned towards the door.
"Come in," he announced, and the door opened to reveal Sirius.
Sirius looked tired, his eyes slightly bleary and dark circles a little more prominent today.
"You need to get more sleep," Harry commented unflinchingly with a cock of his brow.
Sirius scowled. "I was bloody nervous about Dolohov coming. Out of all the Death Eaters, he's one of the worse. Though clearly, he was no match for you. My heart dropped into my stomach when you stabbed him in the foot right before I had to contain my hands from slow clapping."
Sirius was grinning by the end of it, and Harry was chuckling.
"You scared the hell out of most people in the house, though. I think Molly had to lie down immediately after you left," Sirius crinkled his nose. "You're quite good at playing the villain."
Harry shrugged. "How did occlumency checking go yesterday night?"
Sirius took a seat in the lounge chair across from Hermione. "Pretty good, actually. Surprisingly, Sophia and Su are trained in occlumency. Sophia said she self-taught herself when she found a book about it last year and thought it was useful. Su said she lives in a strict household and her family had hired someone to teach her occlumency just before entering Hogwarts. In her family, there was a squib who held onto all knowledge about magic even though it couldn't be practiced. Talks about magic were commonly passed down through generations."
"How on earth did her family manage that as muggles?" Hermione said in disbelief. Her own family had such limitations being muggles and had zero access to the wizarding world.
Sirius shrugged. "Su's family has connections in China. They're not limited to just Britain. Magic knowledge being passed down means they know exactly where to look and who to network with and speak to."
Hermione blinked in disbelief. She wished she had branched out more during her years at Hogwarts. Speaking with Su definitely could've made things easier for her family. None of that mattered now, though.
Maybe if they survived the war.
"The rest?" Harry asked.
"Not bad," Sirius nodded. "They're not trained but they have a somewhat natural defense. Easy to break down using Legilimens but they definitely have a natural apt for it. They could easily be trained."
"Good," Harry nodded. "Spend this week training them as much as you can during the day."
"And at night?"
"Meeting with our own little group for additional training and strategizing," Harry quirked his lip.
"Can do," Sirius mockingly saluted Harry as he stood up.
"There was another reason why I called you up here," Harry said, stopping Sirius before he could leave.
Sirius cocked his brow in question.
"Regarding the Fidelius charm," Harry explained. "I want you to be the secret keeper."
Sirius and Hermione looked shocked.
"Me?" Sirus repeated as if he hadn't heard Harry right and blinked again when the other man nodded.
"Why?" Sirius asked. "Not that I'm not honored you seem to trust me so much, but..."
Harry licked his lip. "I had talked to Lily while we were at Gringotts and she talked about James. She said something about trusting someone to be their secret keeper and they were betrayed, resulting in James dying."
Heat immediately rose in Sirius's cheeks, inflamed at the mere memory.
"Pettigrew," Sirius spat out. "That son of a bitch—"
"Lily told me you were originally going to be the secret keeper," Harry cut in.
And just like that, the color in Sirius's cheek drained, and he looked devastated and pale.
Suddenly, Sirius laughed as he looked down. "Ha...yeah, it was going to be me. It was the obvious choice, but we thought we could pull a fast one and switch it to Pettigrew last minute. If...If I had been—"
"That's why it's you," Harry cut in again, and Sirius's face whipped up to look at him. "Because I know you would never let anything happen to Lily and Hazel. Because I know you regret deciding not to be the secret keeper last time so badly that you would do anything to make sure they're safe because losing James was already one too much for you."
Sirius swallowed, biting his tongue to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.
"Okay," was the only thing Sirius managed to rasp out.
"Okay," Harry said in return with a small smile. "We'll cast it later today."
Sirius nodded as he took a deep breath before he turned and left.
Once they were alone in the room again, Hermione finished drinking her water, feeling her nerves cool as she put the glass down on the side table.
"What should we do for the rest of the day?" Hermione asked.
Harry merely turned to her, a glint in his eyes. "I need to key the last fox today. I need you to take me to muggle London."
Hermione squinted her eyes at him. "How?" She asked. "Dolohov spelled an anti-disapparition jinx over this entire place when he came as per Riddle. To be able to apparate, we have to go to one of the apparition points they've set up in town, which is crawling with Death Eaters and his Aurors. I certainly can't apparate on my own as a muggle-born and you side-along apparating with me will only cause suspicion."
Harry grinned at her, and Hermione huffed in slight annoyance.
"We'll be using one of the emergency points out. We'll be just outside Wales first, then you can apparate," Harry explained to her, and Hermione's eyes lit up like an explosion.
"Brilliant!"
The trip had been easy enough. While the foyer was empty, Harry took Hermione to the door, and they stood before the second fox tile. Harry lowered to the ground on one knee, and Hermione followed suit by squatting with her legs together.
"This is really important for you to learn, so watch carefully."
Harry waved his hand over the tile and said the words slowly for her sake. "Quaerite mihi sanctuarium."
Hermione mouthed the words silently after him, but she would need to practice saying the spell correctly later. She watched in amazement as the tiled fox came to life, its tail ruffling once before it rotated 180°.
Harry stood up, offering his hand to Hermione. She took it with ease, allowing him to help her stand.
"What does it mean?" Hermione asked, referring to the spell he cast on the fox.
Harry walked her to the door, opening it, and Hermione gasped. There were no longer staring outside of Wizarding London. Hermione stared out at the lush green forest of Wales, far from any town.
Harry gestured her to go through first. "It means: I seek sanctuary."
o-o-o-o
By the time Harry and Hermione got back, Harry had decided he didn't quite like muggle London.
It was loud and slightly hard to breathe in. Harry had read about pollution, but he didn't think it would be so bad that he felt unclean as he breathed. The Wizarding World also had pollution, but it was nowhere as bad as this.
On top of that, the vehicles called cars were terrifying as they sped through. Harry was adamant that Hermione walked on the side of the sidewalk as they trudged through London.
When they arrived in an alleyway, Harry immediately kept her from walking out before using his magic to change their appearances. He looked at by-passers to understand what to transform their faces and clothes as.
"We need to be discreet," he told her quietly. "Riddle's followers are surveilling the area too."
"How do you know?" Hermione asked as she tried to stare out the alleyway.
Harry gestured her to look at a gentleman standing in the distance across the street on the corner.
To the ordinary person, it would just seem like an average vagrant, playing his acoustic guitar to earn money. He was holding the neck and strumming but not singing as he looked around.
Hermione watched a couple of seconds longer before her eyes widened with realization. "There's coherent music being played, but he's not actually playing any chords. It's magic."
Harry nodded. "He's kept his hand in the same position, merely sliding it up and down."
"I can't believe you noticed so fast," Hermione muttered, and Harry didn't comment.
When Harry seemed satisfied with their appearances, Hermione bravely put on her face and stumbled out with Harry, acting as if they were a young couple who just stowed away in the alleyway to get a couple of improper snogs in.
They did draw the attention of the undercover Riddle follower, but he had merely curled his face in thinly-veiled disgust before he looked away, continuing his fake strumming.
After they felt like they were a safe distance away, they continued their walk, still holding hands for appearances as they kept a lookout for other undercover wizards.
Harry was trying to determine a good port point for the last fox to be keyed to.
They discussed a bit of their previous plans with muggle contraceptives, but Harry wanted to wait until they were assigned a healer to see what kind of diagnostic they could perform.
After Harry seemingly decided on an excellent place to key the emergency exit to—which happened to be another alleyway tucked in a quiet street and various dumpsters that could be used for hiding—they went to the nearest bookstore.
Harry pulled out a card given to him by Gringotts that was glamoured to look like a muggle credit card to the human eye. It was connected to his vault at Gringotts, and the card served as a conversion tool that the Goblins would get a receipt notification and convert his galleons for withdrawal.
This currency card was explicitly only for British Pounds, and the currency limit was only as good as what was in the vault...which meant an insanely high limit for Harry.
Harry bought her a bag, which Hermione tried to reject at first, but Harry advised they needed a bag for the books he wanted to buy, and it seemed like men here didn't carry bags.
Hermione relented even though the first store Harry went into to get the bag was pricey.
Inside the bookstore, Harry picked out books left and right, seemingly of all topics.
"Why are you getting so many books here in muggle London?" Hermione asked quietly to not draw to the attention of others. "I highly doubt... P.C. for dummies and...A Concise History to the Modern World will be very helpful in The Wizarding World."
Harry turned to Hermione and tilted his head. "Because I don't understand muggle London. There's not enough information about it in The Wizarding World but it's clear that muggles have advanced much further than The Wizarding World has. I may be more than a thousand years old, but I sadly have to inform you that not much has progressed in the magical world than it has in the 6th Century."
"I noticed..." Hermione gave a reluctant smile, thinking back to how annoying it was to use quills and ink still.
Harry chuckled. "The magical world used to be more advanced than the muggle world, and now the reverse has happened. Their advancement can lead to new ideas for us to overcome this war because Riddle will not learn anything muggle since he despises them. He believes they are inferior and can't possibly have any good ideas and creations."
"Are you going to create a computer then?" Hermione half-smiles as she lightly jokes.
Harry shrugged, pulling more books off the shelf and throwing it into his basket. "Maybe," he turns and smirks at her. "I just have to learn what a computer is first."
Hermione has to resist the urge to laugh. "You know, you could just ask me questions if you wanted to learn about muggle things."
Harry nodded. "And I will. But one can only ask questions if one knows enough about a topic to have questions. If I know nothing, then I wouldn't know what kind of questions to ask."
Hermione leaned slightly against the shelf as she watched Harry. She hadn't ever met someone as studious as she was. Sure, she had talked to few Ravenclaws, but their desire for knowledge wasn't like hers. Hermione liked to know things, yes, sometimes for the sake of knowing, but she liked to apply what she learned too.
Something was satisfying and secure about having information at hand, and Harry clearly thought so too.
"You should pick a few books out too," Harry told her as he went into the next aisle.
"Oh, no, I couldn't—" Hermione shook her head. She had all the books she needed at the Potter library and whatever she brought along from Grimmauld's. Harry seemed to have the books there covered as he picked out multiple battle strategy books and war history books.
If she were to buy something here, the only thing she would want would be the fictional books she loved to read—books she had grown up on.
But it felt wrong. They were in a war, and there would be no time for her to read. Any time she had should be spent on researching for the war—not for her own pleasure.
Harry stared at her for a moment.
"There will be days, you know, where they'll send someone to check in on us. It won't be like the quick visits like Dolohov. They will eventually become long check-ins for proof that the members of the House of Potter are trying to produce heirs," Harry told her quietly, eyes softening when Hermione pursed her lips. "At times, it means I'll have to host someone for multiple days in a row. Those will be the days we have to be in our bedroom and you may not even want to leave it until they're gone."
Hermione's eyes started to look glossy.
"Those will be the days where you can't do any research or planning lest you want to risk getting caught. Those will the days where books can keep you company should you tire of mine," Harry tried to give her a light smile, but it was hard.
Hermione was silent and stood still for a long moment, and for a second, Harry thought he would just have to simply find the worker in the store to ask for good book recommendations and hope Hermione liked them if she decided to pick them up.
But then, Hermione let out a shaky breath and turned to look at the bookshelf, using her finger to run across the spines of the books, seemingly looking for something she recognized.
Slowly, she started to pile books into Harry's basket until it nearly overflowed, and they had to get another basket.
"I want to get things for everyone else too," Hermione muttered, and Harry smiled.
They shopped a little longer, and when they brought their books to the front, the store clerk's eyes nearly dropped out of their head. He thanked them profusely for their patronage and threw in a coupon for their next visit.
Harry carried the four bags by himself without any trouble. When they hid away in the next alleyway, Harry shrunk the books and put them into Hermione's bag.
Hermione found the entire thing so frustrating that she couldn't do the simplest things without her wand.
"We'll train more tonight and I'll teach you more theory," Harry told her to soothe her frustration. Her face was still pinched with annoyance at herself, but she threw him the best smile she could.
After that, Harry offered her his elbow, where she looped her own arm through. Since Harry now knew where they generally were, he could transport them back to Wales, where they could go back to the manor.
The door that connected them back to the manor was between two trees that stood close together.
"Do you want to try to open the door back?" Harry asked, and Hermione looked at him in surprise.
"Do you...think I can?" Hermione asked unsurely. She was getting better at keeping her magic spread throughout her body constantly with each day that passed, but casting simple spells was still difficult for her.
It was terribly annoying.
Harry nodded. "I will help if need be, but I think you could do it."
Hermione let out a breath and nodded. "Is the incantation the same to get us back?"
Harry shook his head. "Just hold your hand out. Think of the Potter Manor—where it is and what the foyer looks like. Then say, 'Et revertetur de refugio.' Try saying it first."
Hermione repeated the incantation a couple of times with Harry helping her pronunciation until she felt comfortable. She followed Harry's instruction, holding her hand out at the empty space between the two trees. Hollowing her focus to a point, her skin thrummed.
She could feel her own magic emitting out her skin, down her arm. Tiny specks of gold flittered around along her skin.
Hermione thought about the Potter Manor, thought about the foyer as Harry said. But she also thought about the people in the manor. She thought about the bedroom she shared with Harry.
Hermione licked her lips before she opened her mouth and, "Et revertetur de refugio."
It was like her magic snapped to life. The gold dust no longer flittered but zinged towards the tips of her fingers.
Her hand started to falter, but suddenly Harry was up against her back. His arm reached over her, lining until he interlaced his fingers through hers against the back of her hand. Harry held her hand up, but it was...she could tell he wasn't using his magic to help her. He was simply supporting her.
Suddenly, the space between the two trees vibrated and swirled until she looked into the foyer of the Potter Manor.
"You did it," Harry whispered in her ear.
"You helped," Hermione shook her head.
Harry chuckled. "Hold your hand up, perhaps, but that magic was all you."
Hermione felt her chest expand with pride.
Harry stepped around her, turning as he held his hand out for her. He was smirking at her. "Though, maybe we should add lifting weights for your training."
Hermione laughed indignantly as she slapped his hand.
o-o-o-o
Harry retired to his study room, leaving Hermione to be the one to go to the library to put the books away. It would be better to let everyone discover the books than to have questions thrown at her if she personally gave them out.
While she was in the library, Lily, Sirius, and Remus came to see her.
"What's all this?" Sirius asked as Hermione was taking things out of her bag and unshrinking them.
"Harry wanted to key the last emergency escape in the foyer. We went through the one that leads us to a forest in Wales before I apparated him to muggle London," Hermione started to explain.
"He took you through one of the emergency escapes?" Remus asked in surprise. "That's so smart! Out there, there are no watchers. There could be so much done out there."
Hermione shook her head. "They're emergencies for a reason. Every time we go through one of them, they have to be re-keyed by Harry. It takes a lot of magic for him to re-key it and maintain them."
Understanding flickered through the room before Lily picked up one of the books.
"Wow, I haven't read this since my days at Hogwarts," Lily gently touched the cover of Pride and Prejudice. "This was my favorite read."
Hermione smiled, liking the book as well.
"Where's Hazel and Teddy?" Hermione asked.
"Teddy is taking a nap and Hazel is spending time with Luna and Ginny," Lily answered.
"I got some books for them as well," Hermione lightly smiled. She had gotten some picture books and simple novels.
She was excited to see if Hazel would enjoy Charlotte's Web. It was a book she loved as a kid, and she was sure the young girl would enjoy it as well.
There was more chatter as they helped Hermione stack the books into the shelves (there was a method of order), but soon, Remus and Lily were distracted as they began to read some of the books. It left Sirius and Hermione to do the work.
"Pft," Sirius huffed with a joking smile. "Nerds."
Hermione rolled her eyes with a half-smirk. "Says the guy who seemingly prefers to surround himself with nerds."
"You can't prove that," Sirius narrowed his eyes at her, lips twitching as he resisted the urge to smile.
"Literally your wife and Remus," Hermione shook her head when Sirius started laughing.
They went back to stacking the books when Sirius's eye caught something, and he did a double-take.
"Did Harry give that to you?" Sirius asked, and Hermione hummed in question.
She looked at what Sirius was staring at and realized it was her ring. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she resisted the urge to hide her hand.
"Yeah," Hermione confirmed neutrally. "He gave me the ring because, well, the entire situation with us being married and he said it would protect me since he did all sorts of magic imbued into it."
She was over-rambling.
Sirius was nearly staring between her and her ring in curiosity.
"What?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly.
"Nothing," Sirius replied after a beat, staring at the ring one last time before he went back to stacking books.
They stacked in silence when Hermione spoke up again, quietly. "Harry said that the day you two went off to fulfill your side of the contract, it was to get these rings."
Sirius kept stacking, not saying anything. Hermione turned, garnering Sirius's attention more seriously as he turned to face her without revealing anything on his face.
The need to ask came like a swift punch that gnawed at Hermione. "Did Harry say why he had his ring or whose it was? He said it was for me but..." Hermione trailed off. Half of her wanted to know the answer, and half of her didn't.
Sirius was biting the tip of his tongue. He was scrambling at what he could say. Honestly, he hadn't even fully processed his own thoughts yet.
He couldn't tell Hermione that the ring belonged to Harry's dead wife—the wife that he so clearly still loved. He was trying to work out why Harry would even give the ring to Hermione.
"I can't really say, Hermione," Sirius finally decided. "I'm keeping the details of the trip a secret as per the contract with Harry. All I can say is that the ring is extremely important to Harry just based on what he did to get them. If Harry says it's for you, then it's for you."
Hermione bit her bottom lip before she sighed. "Right."
The two of them went back to stacking books, both absently thinking the same things.
One, they needed to put more effort into getting to know Harry. Their ally was seemingly too okay with saving them while they knew nothing substantial about him.
Two, what would they say the next time they talked to him?
o-o-o-o
The days started to pass by quickly, each day inching closer to when Harry would be leaving to see Riddle. There was suddenly much to do with casting the Fidelius charm and research. Remus was trying to gather intel on raids that were still happening and what Riddle and his followers were trying to accomplish next.
Hermione had spent some time with her ex-schoolmates discussing what was happening at Hogwarts.
Most of them would have to return to Hogwarts when it started back up. It was said that Riddle had implemented an entirely new staff for teaching, and he would be taking place as headmaster.
Those who showed potential in their classes would be given special tutelage from Riddle himself.
It essentially would be a lead-up to joining his ranks.
On top of that, people like Neville, Ron, and herself would need to decide if they would return to school. The war had been their entire 7th year, so they never went to a single class. They technically hadn't completed their education, but they were already classified as adults.
It was something they would probably need to discuss with Harry to see what he thought. Hermione couldn't decide whether or not she wanted to go back to Hogwarts. She did before—when she believed that they would win the war the first time around. She had dreamed of getting her NEWTs and figuring out what she wanted to do with her life.
But the circumstances have changed. Hermione knew going to Hogwarts wouldn't be the same. It would simply be another prison for her, but worse because she would be away from everyone, including Harry.
Dinner had come around with Harry not showing up again. As the days passed, the new people in their group were becoming more curious about the lord of the house that seemed to make himself scarce and, for the most part, let them wander freely within the house.
Sirius began occlumency training during the day as Harry wanted to meet at night after the meeting with Riddle. The training seemed to be going well. The muggle-borns were taking it seriously when Sirius advised that this method would help their minds safe, especially when they were heading back to Hogwarts. They were under the impression that The Order was still secretly fighting, even just under Harry's nose.
After everyone would disperse to their own company at night, Hermione would slip away silently to Harry's study room and spend the evening with him. It would mostly range from pouring over books together or training, but Hermione would absently think about how she could incorporate getting to know Harry into their sessions as well.
Tonight.
Tonight she would ask more questions since she's already come up with a list of 'Things to Ask Harry to Get to Know Him.'
Hermione softly tapped the back of her knuckles against the door.
"Come in," was the muffled reply.
Hermione turned the doorknob, the light seeping out the door as she did. Entering through, she was shocked at the sight before her.
Harry was standing across his desk with seven books opening, floating around him in a circle. Every time Harry swished his hand, the books would rotate in the direction he moved his hand.
"Harry?" Hermione called his name softly with wonder.
When Harry turned over to face her, she noticed his viridian eyes glowing with magic. He seemed to finally register that Hermione was in the room with him as he then used his magic to close all the books but one and then stacked them neatly on his desk.
Harry walked towards her, book in hand, as his eyes dimmed back to normal.
Hermione noticed the book he kept with him was a book about war strategies used in muggle history.
"Everyone done for today?" He asked, and Hermione nodded.
"Did you eat yet?" She asked, and Harry nodded.
"Luna came by earlier to drop off a plate and said something about Wrackspurts," Harry tilted his head as he recalled the encounter.
Hermione lightly laughed in the back of her throat.
"I will probably need to acquire a house-elf or two," Harry let her know, speaking slowly as he regarded her expression. "It will be too taxing for Kreacher to be the house-elf for me and take care of the House of Black."
Hermione pursed her lip as she looked at Harry as he continued to stare at her, waiting for her to say something. "You don't need to ask for my permission," was all she said, somewhat bitterly before taking a deep breath. "I know you wouldn't treat house-elves terribly."
Harry turned and walked over to the lounge chair, nodding his head for her to take a seat as well. "I saw a bit about...spew?" Harry's tone went up as if he were questioning if he was saying it right. "In Ron's memories."
"It's S.P.E.W.," Hermione crinkled her nose before sighing. "Then you know I'm about advocating for house-elves to be free. Obviously, that's on the backburner with making sure we all live being the number one priority," she said dryly.
Harry nodded, returning her dry smile. "It wasn't so much as asking permission but giving you a heads up so you're not surprised. Ideally, I wouldn't want to buy a house-elf, but in our circumstances, it would look strange for our house to not have any. Additionally, house-elf magic can be very useful to us."
Hermione found her fingers rumpling the fabric of her dress in her lap. Harry wasn't making fun of her for S.P.E.W. He was also against the act of buying elves.
"You...don't think house-elves should be bought?" She asked, hinting for him to discuss his opinions carefully.
Harry shook his head but didn't expand further, and Hermione nearly huffed.
"You can tell me your opinions, you know," Hermione raised her brow at him. "While I think it's barbaric if you don't agree with S.P.E.W. principles, I've come a long way from biting anyone's head when having a discussion."
Harry's lip twitched as if he was resisting the urge to laugh but shifted in his seat to get comfortable.
"I think S.P.E.W. is brilliant," Harry told her sincerely. "Especially in this day and age where many witches and wizards think it's okay to treat house-elves horribly. Obviously, not everyone does, but I think it's noble you're interested in fighting for their rights. The execution of your organization wasn't...well thought out but still admirable."
Hermione frowned. "How would you have executed it then? How would you free house-elves who don't want to be freed even when they're being treated terribly?"
Harry stared at her with a smile that Hermione almost found irritating.
"I think you need to get to know house-elves better. Even beyond what the texts say, spending time with the house-elves and listening to what they say and how they act will put you in a better position with them. Coming at them from your perspective without understanding theirs will only make them feel insulted. You need win them as a friend before you can influence them," Harry advised.
Hermione listened to Harry's word. Her initial reaction was wanting to immediately erupt and argue, but she tempered herself. He was clearly speaking from knowledge and experience.
It was a good time as any to ask questions to get to know him.
"Did you have house-elves—before?" Hermione asked quickly before she could lose her nerve. "When you had your kingdom?"
Harry stared at her for a long moment, and Hermione wondered if she fucked up by crossing some kind of line. She wondered if she should try to backtrack and say he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to. Before she could open her mouth again, Harry spoke.
"I did," Harry nodded. "I had about...97 house-elves. It takes a lot to run a castle, but I had also employed witches and wizards as well."
"Was it different back then? For house-elves?" Hermione found herself relaxing when Harry answered her question. She found herself relaxed and wanting to know more about him and elves and everything in between.
Harry smiled. "Very much so. Elves are...interesting creatures. Quite prideful and mischievous—careful wording is a skill you must have with your bonded elf because they're good at finding loopholes if they want to."
"People say that house-elves have to bond, otherwise they'll die."
Harry shook his head lightly. "Bonding isn't a requirement for elves. It used to be considered a great honor and privilege if an elf wanted to bond with you and it was beneficial to both sides. Now, wizards use it as a way to entrap an elf to them."
"Tell me more," Hermione asked softly, leaning half her body over the armrest of her chair, her arms crossed.
Harry couldn't help the small smile. "Elf magic is vastly different from ours. They can do things that even we are not capable of and it's just innate in them," Harry's hand flexed over the book he was holding. "They're sensitive to the magic around them and in the air, which can make their magic chaotic. That's why bonding with someone can be beneficial to them. You know the benefits wizards get with having an elf, but for them, bonding gives them the means of stabilized magic. They can use our magic to stabilize theirs and it makes them stronger."
Then, Harry let out a small puff of air. "Of course, that's why it's important on who they bond themselves to. The stronger the wizard they bond themselves to, the better the bond is—the more stabilized their magic can be. But with that being said, bonding to a wizard who isn't sane, whose magic is also chaotic can negatively affect an elf too."
"Like Walburga, the Malfoys, or The Crouches," Hermione mumbled.
Harry vaguely recalled the people she mentioned, only really having known Kreacher. He nodded nonetheless.
"You keep saying elves instead of house-elves," Hermione narrowed her eyes at him like she knew he was holding back information.
He nearly wanted to laugh but the sudden strike of desire coursed through him when she looked at him like that. Harry shifted to relieve some of the sudden tension in his body.
"Yes," he revealed to her, "because house-elves are not the only type there is. It seems they've all be forced to become house-elves, though."
"Wait," Hermione sat up abruptly. "There's different types?"
Harry hummed. "Of course," he leaned closer over his chair towards Hermione. "Think about why they're called house-elves. If that was it, they'd just be called elves and everyone would know what they are."
Hermione actually huffed, crinkling her nose slightly but conceded he was right. The fascination and desire to know more outweighed her annoyance as she urged him to continue.
"Elves can specialize in different things, depending on what they find their magic is good at. Elves can all do the same basic magic, but they'll find they're exceeding well in certain areas. House-elves being the most obvious at what they're good at, there are elves who are remarkably well at ward-passing, tracking, healing, and even offensive magic," Harry said, enjoying the way Hermione's eyes were lighting with excitement for knowledge. "That's why bonding with the right person can make their magic better for what they're suited at. Elves used to go to war with their bonded partner."
"That's incredibly amazing," Hermione breathed. "It's such a shame that they're all shackled into being house-elves if they're suited at other things." Hermione pursed her lips and frowned. "Probably for the best now, though. If others knew what elves were capable of, it would be terrible what they'd be forced to do. You say bonded partner, but it seems to be a master/servant position."
Harry nodded slowly. "Elves used to call their bonded partner master as well back then," Harry revealed. "But because the wizard is the deciding factor on how stabilized the magic is in the bonding. It wasn't a statement of who lords over who in the relationship. The closer you are to your elf, they call you by a name they've decided matches how they feel about you. Sometimes it's a title or your full name out of respect, sometimes it's a nickname because they feel close."
Hermione nodded, not really understanding it entirely because the word 'master' just brings a terrible taste in her mouth. Still, the explanation brought comfort to her. "Was clothes always how elves are set free?" She asked next. "It seems strange that something as simple as clothes can be used as a deciding factor."
Harry actually pursed his lips. "That, I can't actually seem to come to understand. Bonding with an elf used to never have clothes as what is given to break a bond, and it used to be a two-way street on who could break it. If an elf was unhappy with the bond or found the wizard's magic to be unstabilizing, they could break it themselves. The way to enter into a bond was to willingly give each other something you valued as a symbol of trust of entering into a mutually beneficial connection. To break it, the other would willingly give back the item that was given to them."
Hermione sat in thought as Harry did after his words settled over.
"After my kingdom dissolved, the elves left. I have to assume that something happened to the elves after I fell asleep. Something drastic happened, which gave someone the opportunity to swoop in to change the bonding ritual to having only the wizard being able to break the bond and by giving clothes. Whatever happened, the elves were left no choice to accept the change," Harry rubbed his face.
Harry never regretted participating in Merlin's ritual to revive Hermione back, and he never would. But that wasn't to say he wasn't angry at what had happened to a lot of magical creatures because he wasn't there to stop it. He didn't regret what he had to do to get to this point, to get to see Hermione again, but he could recognize that some of the falls of magical creatures were his fault.
Hermione reached over and put her hand on his arm gently. Harry looked over, and she was giving him a sad, gentle look.
"It's not your fault," Hermione told him determinedly, leaving no room for argument. "It just means that we do what we can and when—when we survive the war, we'll come back to S.P.E.W. with a rigorous plan. I'll even make you co-president of the club."
She smiled then, lightly teasing him and the desire he had been tempering since she last narrowed her eyes at him came back a vengeance.
God, he wanted to pull her into her lap, wrap his hand into the back of her hair and neck and pull her down into a searing kiss that would make her forget everything but him.
Harry could tell she had come into his study tonight with a purpose—a purpose to get to know him better, and that warmed his heart a little, even if he couldn't tell her everything.
At times, it was hard to control himself from walking up to her and press his lips against hers over and over again. He wanted to fall back into old habits and defend her against everything. To choose her over and over again without a second thought, damn what everyone thought.
But he had done that already. Done that the first time around, and it had gotten her killed because he didn't take the appropriate measures he needed to keep her. He didn't look around them closely enough, trust everyone else too easily.
No, Harry wouldn't let that happen again. Riddle was a surprisingly tricky bastard, and toppling someone over like Riddle wouldn't just put an end to everything. Riddle was more than just a terrifying leader. He was an idea, a value bigoted purebloods latched onto.
Getting rid of Riddle wouldn't mean there would suddenly be peace—not to say it was pointless, Harry was definitely going to kill the bastard—but he was going to make a show of it when the time came. A show that others were to understand that things were to change.
And if they didn't change and give Hermione the society she deserved, he could put them down too, and it would be clear he had no problems doing it.
"Maybe you can outdo yourself and bond with a hundred elves instead. Lord knows it would be better for them than whoever they're currently stuck with since you actually understand them," Hermione huffed.
Harry blinked as he was taken out of his thoughts, realizing that Hermione was sitting back in her chair, practicing wandless magic.
"I said I had 97 house-elves, not that I was the one who bonded with them," Harry said and grinned when Hermione stopped what she was doing to look at him, questions formulating in her eyes.
Before she could ask them, Harry redirected the conversation, irking Hermine slightly.
"Let's try these spells today," Harry pulled out a list of spells he had written up for her. "We're going to push your stamina today."
o-o-o-o
Voldemort sat in his chair with his jaw resting against his fist.
One of his Death Eaters was reporting their weekly activities and progress.
Boring.
Useless.
He couldn't wait until Hogwarts started back up with classes and students again. Riddle had remembered his days teaching other students and classmates back in his days and found he liked shaping the minds of others—the way Dumbledore had.
Dumbledore had a way of gathering followers and shaping the minds of others along with society.
The greatest wizard of all times, they called him. Voldemort used to think of Dumbledore that way too, used to think of him as someone worthy against him—especially when the old wizard defeated him the first time around.
Voldemort used to be nothing but an ambitious orphan brought into the wizarding world by Dumbledore. His life had been grey before that, then there was a splash of color.
And then Voldemort out-maneuvered him and killed him.
Then his world started to go back to grey, and nothing seemed to spark him.
His plans were still his plans that would be carried out. He would conquer and build the world he thought suited and entertained him.
But it didn't change that things were somewhat monotonous.
Until Harry Potter showed up, and there was a splash of color again.
Harry Potter was different from anyone. He was in some ways like Dumbledore but also entirely different. Harry wasn't Light, and he wasn't Dark but seemed to exist in something else entirely different.
Something dangerous and chaotic that didn't make Voldemort want to destroy but get closer and understand.
Harry carried himself in a different way than the other Purebloods who just had airs of being important and better than everyone else—but in reality, they were nothing more than mediocre.
No, Harry Potter carried himself regally, like someone who truly belonged up where Voldemort was and stand beside him.
It didn't offend Voldemort like it would if it had been any other wizard. It didn't offend him because Voldemort could see something and wanted to see if it were true.
Dumbledore stood alone, always alone. There was no one around him, no comradery even as people fought for and with him.
Voldemort wanted something different.
Maybe it was because he had witnessed something once in the damned orphanage he was left in. Two boys who seemed joined at the hip, in-tune with each other as they went about the world. They fought together, relaxed together; it was them versus everyone else.
It was true loyalty and brotherhood that could only exist between two equals.
Muggles were disgusting, and beneath him, he would never find what he wanted there. Muggle-borns were no different; they had no concept of what Voldemort valued because and their heritage held them back even if they were strong magically.
He didn't care about half-bloods like him. If they were useful and followed his ideals, they were welcomed in his circle, but they could also never belong beside him.
Purebloods, Voldemort thought with irony, were the poster image of magic. Purebloods who came from a long line of ancient magic and old money were what Voldemort needed to win his war and build his society.
But they were still beneath him. They were stupid and arrogant. It was only further proved to Voldemort when they wanted to kill all muggle-borns and even half-bloods. They had no thought that it would make their society extinct. They couldn't see how it makes their magic weaker with inter-breeding.
It has always been the way of the world. Seeking new blood into your bloodline was important, but you always wanted the best new blood. Breeding with the best made for stronger magic—and stronger magic was what Voldemort sought. That—along with immortality.
Breeding the same magic repeatedly made for stagnant magic that would eventually plateau and die out, not even to mention the genetic monstrosities it would create.
Thus, he hinted at his displeasure, and that reared Avery into creating the Muggle-born law instead. Poorly executed, as Harry pointed out during his debut, but got the job done nonetheless.
It all pointed back to Harry Potter.
Harry was different, which was why Voldemort had agreed to the terms Harry needed to keep him here and take his title.
Of course, Harry would be closely watched, as the rest of his house would be, but so far, it seemed he was keeping his word at keeping his enemies as clipped birds.
It was only more satisfying that they were all under his rule now—that they were alive and forced to submit. In time, it would only be more pleasing if they truly gave in. When their spirits entirely broke, they accepted their positions in his society and did what they could to rise to his favor.
The mere thought made him laugh internally, humming with excitement. It would be a sight to see. The Order of the Phoenix doing what they could to win his favor, to move above their station.
He would allow it if they could prove themselves. Voldemort didn't have such rules on who could be at his table based on blood status. Muggles were really truly the only disgusting beings he wanted to separate from his society.
It was all because he wanted to understand Harry Potter more.
When Dolohov came back to report his visit to the House of Potter, foot injured and pride broken down—Voldemort had to keep himself from smirking gleefully.
Voldemort could see it—brotherhood and loyalty between two equals. Harry Potter had secrets and powers that he would give to Voldemort. Harry could give color to his world. He would create a society, and Harry would be in arms with him, rising higher, and nothing could stop them.
Because if he didn't—if Harry turned out to be someone Voldemort couldn't trust, couldn't share his vision with, someone who was against him...then Voldemort would wipe him and his whole house out. The House of Potter would die with Harry and become nothing more than a thought of what could've been.
Voldemort continued to listen to the reports given to him, feeling the sparks of color rise as the days got closer until Harry would come to him.
And he would test Harry again.
A/N: I suppose a regular schedule may be too much when all the chapters are like 10k+ long LOL I would make them shorter, but you gotta admit there's something satisfying about long chapters.
As for the NanoWriMo, check out my tumblr for the preview: vanderlustwords . tumblr . (c o m) /post/648284701970350080/summary-sharing-the-same-name-as-harry-potter
Let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter and the project I'm working on! :)