Regarding Fleur
At the Beauxbatons carriage Harry was again barred from seeing Fleur. Though this time there were several times more people involved in the argument, and one of the boy veela even suggested the straightforward solution would be taking his wand and locking him in Fleur's room until she returned.
Which half of them seemed to dismiss as veela being veela, which is to say playfully living down to the reputation for sexual teasing that naive humans tend to assign to them. Then came a long discussion in which one of Fleur's close confidants explained twice how the previous time Harry had been there, he'd been trying to warn that the first task was mother dragons. After that conversation petered off, the other boy veela again recommended just locking Harry in Fleur's room for her to deal with later. This time Harry made the mistake of giving it credence by admitting that seemed fine to him, except that he'd be keeping his wands, thank you very much.
At which point another half of the remaining students seemed to take the option seriously and the only assistant professor present seemed to suddenly comprehend the real outcome of such a ploy and went pale.
She turned to Harry and glared, "Why do you want to see her, and why did you say 'require' instead of 'request'?"
Harry shrugged, "Because she was very insistent about getting my answer to her question earlier today."
She blinked.
"Partly in revenge for how insistent she decided to be, when I told her I could not make a decision as fast as she wished."
"She is in the castle infirmary, she probably does wish to see you."
"Um, alright?" said Harry, "And why could not anyone mention this twenty minutes ago, and save at least three being-hours of arguing."
"Because a sick veela should not have to deal with a love-stupid human, following them around," said Fleur's confidant.
"No one should have to deal with a love-stupid human following them around," said Harry, and turned and went outside.
.
In the infirmary Madam Pomfrey seemed to be on break, but there was only one bed with a curtain drawn all the way around it, and the other two occupied beds had two bruised hufflepuffs on their sides staring at each other with pronounced mischievousness.
That looked like the aftermath of a 'hold my butterbeer' event that ended about as well as it possibly could have.
Harry tiptoed to the curtained off bed and stepped inside.
Fleur was lying there, still lacking eyebrows. In general the lack of golden hair sucked away all hint of colour from her silver skin. Or else that was the stark whites and greys of the hospital wing not allowing her much colour to work with.
"Fleur," whispered Harry.
No response.
He took a step forward and touched the back of her hand.
After a moment she opened her eyes and stared at him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to say 'yes'," said Harry, "Or rather 'yes, if your parents also approve'."
She nodded, "how much?"
"No money," said Harry, "I want a favour, perhaps 'continued friendship between the Houses of Delacour and Potter and Black,'"
She coughed and tried to prop herself up and one elbow, "I cannot pay that alone, my parents and grandparents will have to agree."
"Good," said Harry, "I did not wish to enter this contract without their agreement anyway."
"Contract," Fleur muttered as if the word tasted bad.
But she did not seem in a hurry to say anything else.
"Why are you sick?" said Harry.
"Why did you not tell me you were aristocrat?"
Harry shrugged, "perhaps because I do not believe that such a thing exists."
"Of course," She rolled her eyes, but one of her customary smirks flickered around the corners of her lips. She sighed and laid back.
"Why do you care?" said Harry, "I thought the French didn't believe in them either."
She snickered, "of course the French believe they exist, that is why they tried to kill them all."
"I never figured out why just taking their land and money wasn't sufficient."
She nodded, "and how long before they retreated to their other estates in other countries, rallied support and reconquered France, in hopes of getting their lands and titles back?"
"About a generation, I guess," said Harry.
"Precisely," said Fleur.
"I'm not that kind of aristocrat," said Harry.
Fleur raised an eyebrow, "who took your parents away from you?"
"Tom Marvollo Riddle."
She looked at him in sympathy, but asked her next question anyway, "and do you plan to get back everything he took from your parents in time to give it to your children?"
"Well yes … sort of," said Harry.
"Then yes, you are that kind of aristocrat," said Fleur, then she smirked the rest of the way, "But so am I, veela are selfish in addition to being status aware, we're just not that big into real estate."
He watched her, though she didn't seem to have anything else to say, only watch him come to terms with what she'd said.
"I don't believe real nobility is inherited," said Harry, "I think it is earned by the promises you keep regarding protecting and helping whatever vassals choose to follow you."
She nodded, "and you think anyone can earn it, it's just that some are better at it than others."
Harry shrugged, "I suppose, yes."
She nodded, "that is better Frenchness than veela are," she yawned, "kiss my hand, and wish me to get well, then go away, and let me sleep."
She held out her hand, Harry took it, "You still haven't told me what you are sick of."
"I am sick of shame," she said, "you tricked me into a rudeness by not telling me that you are aristocracy."
Harry sniffed, "Why wouldn't you be polite regardless?"
"You were raised by commoners with a complete lack of understanding of nobility."
"Perhaps," said Harry.
She stared at him for several seconds then looked away, "Please forgive my rudeness and go."
"What if I refuse to forgive your rudeness, but beg you not to die of it?"
She turned to stare at him, there were hints of colour coming back, and a hint of fuzz along her scalp and arms.
"Maybe nothing," she said, "Maybe … show me what does 'begging me not to die,' look like?"
He brought his other hand up to wrap around the back of the hand he held, "Please don't die," he said, "Please get better, it would ruin the tournament if you died. Also why aren't a few of your friends here guarding you? It seemed like at least one of the other part-veela were maliciously happy you were here. I think it would be a wise precaution."
She stared at him, "What makes you think I have any friends in my year?"
"Oh," he said, "would you like if I arranged some of my friends and I to guard your sleep, at least until curfew?"
Her eyes widened. She smiled, the first genuine smile he'd seen in hours, then she winced and looked away, "That maybe would not do," she said.
"I can make sure it's only girls, if you prefer."
Her eyes went wide, "How many girls?"
"Guarding is best done in pairs," he said, "how long do you need to sleep? You have an option between a shift of ravenclaws mostly reading charms and defence, and a pair mostly gossiping about transfiguration homework and hair styles."
Fleur's eyes flickered up to Harry's braids, then back down to his eyes, "how many friends do you have?"
"About twelve," said Harry, "if you include boys also."
"Alright," she said and lay back.
"You don't mind me being inside your school, without either paying you tribute nor swearing fealty or anything like that?"
"No, I don't," said Harry, "nor do I mind you choosing additional students beside your sister to be friends or allies with, I will mind immensely if I hear that you practice turning your allure up all the way to see which humans trip and fall into your bed."
"You don't mind me letting them trip and fall everywhere else?"
Harry shrugged, "They should learn to protect their minds," said Harry, "But you should not take advantage of them while they learn to do so."
She sighed and nodded, "You know the 'allure' isn't about sex, only humans interpret it that way, veela call it the 'prowess'."
"Hmm," said Harry, "interesting."
She sat up and stared at him.
"What?"
She bit her lip and stretched her back, and then her arms. (Which required her to pull her hand from his grasp,)
By the time all her tight tendons relaxed she had much more hair and a single white feather about the size of a sickle dangling over her forehead.
He stared at it in fascination, Sirius was right, if she led with that, it could be lots more effective than the allure.
"Please, go away," she said adjusting her robes, "I promise I'll honour your request and not die today of shame."
She adjusted her robes again and Harry realised that maybe she had a few more single feathers in random places and needed her full powers of concentration to get everything back up to standard working order.
He left.
.
...-...
Bargain
Susan walked up and down the corridor twice before she remembered that three times was the process for the other hidden door. She turned back the way she had come and ran her hand along the wall, ignoring the sensations from the skin of her hand, and paying attention to the sensations in her elbow.
When everything went disorganised and she felt the urge to back away, she closed her eyes and stepped through the wall.
The whole study group was there sitting at desks they pushed together to make one big table.
Those who looked up seemed shocked to see her. She ignored them and crossed to opposite where Harry sat and cleared her throat.
Harry looked up, "Hello Susan," he said, "Are you here for arithmancy?"
"I'm here to bargain," she said holding up a dragon hide bag, in a conspicuously gloved hand.
He stared in confusion for significantly less time than would have been polite given the trouble she'd gone through to get hold of it.
"Is that?"
"The relic that was behind the wall you and the professors couldn't find the way through."
"And you haven't touched it?" he said.
"I touched it once," she said, "in less than a second it … determined that I was blocking it and therefore guessed that I was a professor or knew what it was, and therefore a threat, and started attacking." She shivered, "I dropped it and have only touched it with dragon hide since."
He bit his lip, "And you're still yourself?"
She glared at him, "Not that you know me well enough to tell the difference, but yes I am still myself."
That seemed to have been the wrong thing to say.
Finally he shrugged it off and held out his hand.
She pulled her hand back and shook her head, "first let's bargain."
His eyes went wide, "What do you want?"
"First: If they can be cleansed and safe to use, rather than destroyed, I want this one and the cup back after."
Harry frowned, "assuming that they aren't stolen property or whatever, that's fine, but I suspect that they are."
Susan shrugged, "right, of course, fine, if that's the case, I merely want credit for finding this one."
Harry nodded, "I take it that that one is valuable?"
"More valuable than the gold the goblet is made from," agreed Susan.
Harry nodded.
"And if they cannot be cleansed, only destroyed, I do not want my name associated with the business in any way."
Harry nodded, "the curses of infamy, I don't wish them on anyone."
"Thank you," said Susan, "Second part: stop excluding me, I don't think that's too much to ask, under the circumstances," she placed her bag on the table but did not yet slide it to him or even let go,
Harry's eyes narrowed, "First, I haven't been going out of my way to exclude you. Second, which particular group have you been feeling excluded from."
"This group," Susan said waving her hand around the table. She didn't say more because she didn't trust herself not to lose her temper nor to not start sounding like she had a lump in her throat.
Harry looked around, both Patils, and Hermione, and an empty chair with a book open to third year charms and arithmancy instead of fourth year arithmancy and potions. Then again Harry had both the third and fourth year arithmancy texts open.
The group was already non-homogeneous and her presence shouldn't be a problem.
Harry crossed his arms.
Susan tilted her head.
"You're not in arithmancy," he said, "and we have been including you in transfiguration and magical law."
Susan clenched and unclenched her teeth, "That's not what I meant," she said.
"Then what did you mean?"
Was he that dense, or … maybe she hadn't been clear enough, or …
"You go on dates with Padma with the rest of them along," she said, "You go on dates with Parvati with the rest of us along, why can't you go on dates with me, with the rest of them along."
His face cleared from intrigued and concerned to resigned and … perhaps angry.
"First," he said, "Because I don't date fans."
Hermione nodded.
"I'm not your fan," she said.
He frowned, but didn't argue, "Second, what you're asking for, is not currently mine to offer."
Padma nodded.
"Third, I'm not sure you realise, but I've never actually been on a date with Hermione."
Hermione gave a start, then chuckled nervously.
"Fourth," he sighed, "helping with that project," he nodded toward her dragon hide bundle, "More readily puts you into a completely different group, one composed entirely of legal adults."
Susan shivered and bit her lip. Severus Snape, Alistor "Mad Eye" Moody, Sirius Black, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Harry Potter. And those were only the ones she knew about. Two ex-aurors and two ex-death eaters, and Harry, a probably future barrister.
"I told you what fraction of credit I want," she said, "I don't need to be in, that group."
He nodded, "So what do you want?"
"I want you to stop looking at me like I'm easy, and start listening to me."
He frowned.
"I am not easy," she said, "I just know what I want. You just have no idea how many boys you're more eligible than."
"I never said you were easy," said Harry.
"But you give me that look, no one else gives me that look."
Harry shook his head in confusion.
Hermione leaned sideways and whispered something into his ear. And his face cleared. And he nodded.
He looked at Susan, "you say you're not a fan," said Harry.
Susan nodded.
"Prove it," he said.
"How would you like me to prove a negative?" she said.
He tilted his head to the side, and raised an eyebrow, the effect would have multiplied rather than cancelled out if he'd chosen to raise the other eyebrow.
"You say you're not easy," he said, "you can work on proving that too."
They stared at each other.
"What do you want?" said Susan.
"Quit it with the crass jokes," said Harry.
"Yeah, they don't fit the 'not easy' persona at all," quipped Parvati.
"They perfectly fit my persona of, I'm an orphan that raised myself behind the scenes at Auror training camp until I was ten, I didn't realise that regarding 'what counts as normal polite conversation,' Mrs. McMillan was closer to the rule rather than the exception until I was twelve."
Harry swallowed and looked away.
Parvati looked half sick and half … jealous. Interesting.
Was Harry blushing? Or was that jealousy, too. Dear Merlin, why?
"Alright," said Harry, "my request is changed from 'stop' to 'tone it down, there are children present,'"
Someone grunted and Harry looked pointedly at the empty chair.
OK, so, there are usually children present, same difference.
"Agreed," said Susan, "Feel free to offer tips when I don't tone it down far enough."
He stared at her, and then smiled, "good, I was working up the nerve to suggest that the easiest way to stop acting like a fan would be to listen to me."
Susan blinked, and blinked again, "Harry," she said, "just because I'm free with my opinion, and hope you'll listen, should not imply that you shouldn't share your own, and expect me to show interest in your perspective. What else could I possibly have meant when I said I wanted to date you—" think I'm easy, no think I'm only a fan, "never mind, I figured that one out," she sighed, "I meant, I want to get to know you."
Harry frowned, but he did take a respectable amount of time to consider that before he responded, then he said, "you seem to be contradicting yourself, which is it? You want to get to know me? Or I'm significantly more eligible than others, and you already know that and want me."
"I didn't say you were significantly more eligible than others, I said you were more eligible than a significant number of others," said Susan, "I want to get to know you more, because everything I know about you so far seems an ideal mix of Aunt Amelia and my best friend Hanna Abbot, and male, but also a gryffindor, though I haven't decided yet if the gryffindor part is a plus or a minus."
Harry shrugged, "That's alright, I still haven't decided whether I'm a gryffindor."
"What else could you be?" said Susan.
"He's a hat stall with too much impatience to wait around," said Padma.
Susan stared, then giggled, "I like how that is somehow 'not gryffindor'."
Harry smirked like he knew he was being cute and didn't care.
"Hermione, ethics?"
Hermione put her quill down and looked at Susan, "I've seen Harry flirting with you more than I've seen you flirting with him."
Harry's eyes widened.
"But most of his flirting is targeting friendship, not romance, you're harder to get a read on, I haven't been able to figure out why."
"Nim says that's because she's been talking straight talk, not slytherin power talk, nor club talk, what those are she isn't yet willing to explain."
"Then telling us isn't helpful," said Hermione.
"I think," said Harry, "she's only told us facts, without ulterior motives, because either she doesn't have ulterior motives, or because she doesn't choose to communicate her motives, until she's sure of them, and then she communicates them directly, rather than hinting."
Hermione swallowed, "I think you just called her autistic," said Hermione, "and I don't think that's her issue."
Harry flinched, "Nim called her, whatever it was, and it was a compliment, not that I could understand it or translate it."
Hermione shrugged and turned pointedly back to Susan.
"Just to be clear," said Hermione, "you want more turns to talk, and the entire group, or at least Harry to listen to you, rather than," she shrugged, "whoever else whose turn it might be that day?"
Susan nodded, "Turns is fine."
Hermione nodded, "It's your turn to talk right now, do you want romance, or does your endgame look like something else?"
"I have almost a year and a half before I need to worry about how my aunt will be forced by social expectations to add courting time to my schedule," she said, "I'd like a wider friend group before then."
Hermione nodded, "We know you're a pureblood and don't hold it against you. And you know we're muggle raised, and thanks for considering our sensibilities if that's what you're doing, but we're not completely naive. If you want sex tutoring you'll get that a lot faster by asking, than by playing muggle and redirecting through the dating tradition."
Susan gasped, and stared at her, then glanced aside at Harry, then back to Hermione, "I wasn't asking for that to be on the table, though I'm also not asking for it not to be on the table, Just stating that if I wanted that I could have gone through normal channels to get it arranged."
"Understood," said Hermione, "What do you want?"
As in, if not sex, why date.
I already answered that, but they still haven't heard me, or still haven't believed me. Maybe I should write them all off as too insular a clique to infiltrate with my current accomplishments. And I was so sure that hunting down this artefact would be enough.
Or maybe I should give up and settle for one of their patterns, to get in, and then let them get to know me gradually. But … I don't want to play that kind of long game. I certainly don't want to get kicked out for playing it poorly if there's a chance that honesty would have gotten me in, if I'd just been more persistent.
"I look at Harry and Neville," said Susan, "and I see Myself and my best friend Hanna, I tried to get a little closer to Neville and it was like talking to a mirror, he's so much like myself that it was scary. I … I sent Hanna after him, if she likes me so much she'll like him too. I want to find out if Harry favours Hanna to the same extent, maybe he does, maybe he doesn't, either way, I want to know."
"And if he doesn't?" said Hermione.
Susan shrugged, "Still want more friends."
"Dog is Hufflepuff version of lion," muttered Padma, Parvati muttered something back.
Lion and horse; Right, herd animals. No wonder sex tutoring wasn't off the table.
Padma frowned and turned to stare at Susan.
"And if he does turn out to be the gryffindor version of your best friend Hanna Abbot?"
Susan shrugged, "Then I have two best friends."
"What's your love language?" said Harry.
"My what?"
"When you want Hanna to know you like her, how do you make sure she knows?"
Susan blinked, and shrugged, "I don't know, she just knows."
They stared at each other.
"Can this be a multiple choice quiz?" said Susan.
Harry smiled, "common things are called words, hugs, gifts, time, and service." Then he shrugged, "lots of people have a top two they want and a top two they give, and they often don't quite match."
"Sure," said Susan, "and I won't say words and hugs and time, mostly because hugs isn't quite a thing I'm used to, but I like sitting close or walking close."
"Shoulder to shoulder," said Harry.
"Close enough to whisper, even in a crowd," said Susan, "less Interrupting of words or time that way."
"Sure," said Harry.
"And only Parvati has let me that close," said Susan.
Not that she'd wanted Parvati for a friend, but she might have been why she hadn't given up already.
Padma's expression turned troubled, she looked around, then said, "Hermione's love language is physical affection, she's learned to back off a little to make allowance for Harry's lack of comfort with that."
"At this point, I'm not uncomfortable with physical affection," said Harry, "I'm uncomfortable with loss of mobility and alertness, while in public."
Susan knew those symptoms from years of observing, "Then I won't hug you in public, but you don't mind walking in formation, especially formations that allow maximised team line of sight?"
Harry nodded, "I'd like to learn those."
Susan nodded.
"Hermione, ethics?" he said again.
"I can make up ethics out of whole cloth, err, I can calculate the most ethical route from where you are to where you want to be, but … mostly that amounts to permission gathering, and you can do honesty and negotiate a contract as well as I can," said Hermione, "but I assume you actually want morals, and I'm having trouble slotting anything together, into anything recognisable."
Harry shrugged, "Padma, wisdom?"
"Do you want another girlfriend?"
"I am satisfied enough to be ambivalent," said Harry, "On general principles I won't turn away additional study partners of defence or law, unless I suspect they're going to use the knowledge for aggression instead of defence, but whatever."
"Right," said Padma and turned to Susan, "If courtship is off the table for a year, and sex tutoring has no special reason to be on the table. Do you want Harry for a boyfriend, or just for a friend?"
Susan shrugged, "I think I'm ambivalent about that."
"And yet, the idea of finding a boy version of your best friend is especially exciting?"
Susan shrugged, and nodded.
"Do you want Harry for a boyfriend, or for a brother?"
Merlin!
MerlinMerlinMerlin!
How many times had she and Hanna called each other sister, and wished with all their souls it were true.
In theory she had Earnest but … he was impossible to please, and also well … dangerously non-confrontational. At best he was the baby brother of their group.
There was a lump in her throat. She felt her face heat and her scalp prickle with sweat, just like it had that last defence lesson when Harry hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her, and then she'd stopped receiving invitations.
The world wavered in front of her eyes, She covered her face with her hands and then as she lost sight of the walls she also lost control of her balance and decided to sit down before she fell down.
She concentrated on her breathing and her calm and tensing her stomach the way that should help keep the grey circle from narrowing all the way to the centre of her vision.
Finally the grey receded and she felt heat other than her own blush in her hair.
She felt someone crouching over her.
She moved her hands. It was Harry.
For once his circle of girls had let him out of their reach to interact with her directly?
"Are you alright?" he said.
"Not hardly," she said bitterly. Still unable to look up to meet his eyes.
"What do you need?" he said.
Need? She wasn't missing anything, there was just this general lack of …
The things she wanted to talk about that she couldn't tell her aunt. The puzzles that were too big and chunky to burden Hanna with. The favours she wished to ask for, but couldn't because she already knew her aunt was far too busy already.
"I need a dad," said Susan, "but barring that, I'd really like a big brother."
"I'd like that too," said Harry.
She wasn't sure if that was, 'Harry also wishes he had a big brother' or 'Harry also wishes Susan had a big brother.'
She tried to look up but got only as far as his chest. And after a moment he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her back, but mostly across the top of her head.
This would have been so much less awkward if I hadn't almost fainted.
She gave up the idea of getting her head up into the circle of his arms, and let it droop, until it rested against his knee.
He followed her down, and kept making her feel cocooned.
Cocooned… She could deal with a little more of that. Not as a straight jacket, but as … as a home base from which she could look around for interesting things to explore, instead of … instead of everything always being about survival, and making Auntie proud, and not doing anything to damage the reputation Auntie needed to do her job, and …
Something was off.
What just happened?
"Sorry," whispered Harry, "instinct got the better of me for a second."
"Did you just lick me?"
"Yes."
"Was the instinct … mutual grooming, or parent to child?"
"Not sure," said Harry, "Might have been parent to child, might mostly have just been aimed at the excessive amount of sweat in your hair just now."
She wasn't a big fan of cats, but she'd been around enough to know what cat parents could be like.
"As long as it won't offend you if I shower off after," Susan said, "and as long as it stays parent to child, and as long as it mostly stays mostly on my hair, not on my face, or requiring me to take off my clothes, you may continue."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Are you sure?"
"I'll tell you if I change my mind."
"Do you want me to be human or lion?"
"I want you big, but I'm not sure if I can handle your tongue like that."
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, and then he took a deep breath, and started licking in earnest. She hadn't caught when he changed, but there was no mistaking the texture or the size of the tongue that raked through her hair.
Susan fixed her knees and back and hunched lower to keep from being lifted off balance.
She could hear Padma and Hermione arguing in the background, but couldn't make sense of it over the sound and the intensity of the tongue stropping over her forehead and ear.
It actually felt kind of nice in her hair, but not nice at all on her forehead.
Soon she was crouched even lower, with her gloved hand pressed across her forehead to shield the skin that wasn't protected by hair.
Someone tugged on her sleeve.
"Huh?" she said.
"Count licks," said Hermione, "He'll stop if you can count to a hundred."
Oh, that hair ritual, "I usually can get by with fifty," Susan said, but dutifully began counting.
Shortly after twelve she stopped counting, in favour of concentrating on immersing herself in the feeling of having a lion daddy caring for her as a kitten.
.
When she woke up it felt like her hair must have been licked off and then dried in knots. She sat up and felt her scalp.
French braids. A different pattern than he normally used. She looked around. She'd been moved onto a couch, and on the floor directly beside was a note, "we've gone to Tea, don't worry, sleep here for as long as you need."
She didn't smell like lion saliva, perhaps because he'd never actually eaten anything with that mouth. Maybe she'd just leave it alone for a while.
Either way she was hungry.
She went down to Tea.
.
"New hair style," said Ernie.
"Yes," said Susan.
"Looks practical," he said.
"Jury's still out on that," said Susan.
"Did … you had help didn't you?" said Hanna.
"One of Parvati's friends," said Susan.
Hanna nodded knowingly, and gave a shy smile.
"Anything to report?"
Susan shrugged, "my bluff was called, I think my only path forward is catching up with her friend group in transfiguration."
Hanna shrugged, "Isn't she known for potions?"
"She's known for arithmancy and how it applies to potions, defence, and if you add in her sister that's charms, runes, and astronomy too."
"And transfiguration."
"Yes, but transfiguration has as many sub-fields as arithmancy and potions put together."
"You keep all that up and they'll start calling you a ravenclaw," warned Hanna, "or Justin's secret twin."
"Except I'm very much interested in the practical aspects not the theoretical aspects," said Susan. Then she shrugged, "thanks for the warning, I'll try not to be a bore about it."
Hanna made eyes at her. And they smiled and went back to eating.
...-...
Cosleeping begins
"Harry!" whispered Parvati.
"Wha?" he rolled over and stared at her. At least this time he hadn't drawn his wand before he registered whose voice it was.
"Could we trouble you for a re-transfigure of a bigger bed?"
"Who's we? And where."
"Pretty much your entire harem, in your office."
"Wha?" said Harry.
"The Arabic term, not the European corruption."
"Meaning what?"
"The girl's dorm of unattached women in your castle, and your wives and similarly trusted deputies to look after them."
Harry closed his eyes, "so primarily means 'women under my protection'? And primarily not 'women I rape', which given that I don't rape, would be a set of zero."
"Stop trying to pretend to be Padma to set me at ease, and come transfigure something bigger than Hermione can manage."
"I'm still not clear why this is happening in my office and not in your or Hermione's bed."
"Because neither of those are big enough either, also Susan isn't as comfortable with using the tower password as the ravenclaws are."
Harry sighed, "Fine, I'm coming," he got up and retrieved his cloak before following her out and down and out and in.
In fact everyone was there.
Susan apparently had been asleep in the bed, when she'd been joined by Ginny and Luna, who were now fast asleep, but Susan was now alert and watching … whatever negotiation was ongoing.
Padma was stretched out on a fainting couch that could, in a pinch allow Luna to join her. Or maybe Parvati, if Parvati wanted it badly enough.
Over in the 'Hermione's office' side of the room Hermione was curled up sideways in an huge recliner that looked familiar. Perhaps worn out in all the right places to match her father's. But it was bigger than life, probably scaled up to match how she remembered the original, back when she was small enough to curl up in it sideways.
And Parvati was tense. And telegraphing it by rubbing her wand holster.
"What am I seeing?" said Harry.
Parvati looked at him sharply.
"Other than that there's no room for you?"
Parvati swallowed.
"What are you seeing?" said Harry.
"All of us are either your step sisters or your girlfriends."
"Right," said Harry.
"Which means we're all Luna's step sisters or her step mothers."
"Granted."
"Hermione and I … stick out."
"Ah," said Harry.
"I think Hermione doesn't mind sticking out. I mind a lot."
"Plausible, but I wouldn't bet too much on Hermione staying that way."
Parvati shrugged.
"Is the absence of a sufficiently large bed the only reason that you and Padma aren't already curled up together?"
Parvati shrugged, "That's fine for me to ask, but it's not fine for you to enforce, because … because when Ginny or Susan isn't here, Luna curls up with her official step-mom, not either of her unofficial step-moms."
"Got it," said Harry and closed his eyes, and let the pretend family tree construct itself. And the snuggle arrangements, he'd heard of existing in the past, and the additional preferences on display now, and …
"Please verify," said Harry, "whether the current arrangement was an intentional and malicious attack on your status by anyone, or only the result of a natural progression of the order that each member arrived and chose what was best for them from the choices available at the time they arrived?"
He opened his eyes.
"I think a natural progression," said Parvati.
Susan nodded.
Harry looked at her, "What was the progression?" said Harry.
"Hermione was working late, I was …" Susan shrugged, "sort of waiting for her to remind me that curfew was coming, then I woke up and she was like that, and Luna and Ginny were crawling in." and other shrug, "then I woke again with the three of you here," a motion at Padma, "is there more going on than the moon phase waking up everyone in the towers?"
"Possibly not," said Harry, "and if there is no mens rhea, then I don't need to punish anyone, only modify the system far enough that it doesn't happen as often."
Parvati gripped her holster, which as usual was the same thing as holding onto his back.
"Does Lightfeet wish to curl up with her boyfriend or her lion friend?" murmured Harry.
Parvati turned to face him, her eyes wide, "is that an option?"
"Perhaps," said Harry.
She shrugged, "I'd like to try lion once."
He nodded, and paced to the corner farthest from the door. Mostly open, but where smashed bits of real and conjured targets littered the floor along one wall.
"Finite," he muttered coating a wide area, dispelling most of the conjured bits, then he drew in as much magic and concentration as he could and transfigured the rest into a piece of canvas. He didn't think it actually made much difference in a theoretically clean and dry castle, but he'd watched enough adamant experts on camping shows waxing just shy of mathematical about 'the proper stacking order' of 'camping equipment' for 'a good night's sleep.'
On top of the canvas he conjured a mattress, huge like dojo floor pads, but with internal construction actually like a real mattress.
It was Hogwarts just before spring, so he didn't bother with a sheet, just conjured several fluffy blankets over the whole thing, and several more small enough to cover exactly as much of oneself as one might wish.
Parvati's grip relaxed on her holster, she stroked it twice and finally let it go.
"Does that look welcoming enough for animals as well as mages?" said Harry.
"I think so," said Parvati.
"Good," said Harry, "Back to back as Lightfeet, or spooning or wherever you find comfortable?"
She stared at him. "I want to try spooning," she said, "but, … make some pillows in case you don't like my head on your paws or whatever."
"Ah," he said and conjured several of those also.
"Thank you, Harry," she said. And gave him a quick hug before scampering to the back of her sister's couch to remove her slippers and robes.
Harry shifted into lion form, then prowled to the centre of his nest, took a full turn-around to reset his sense of direction, and curled up.
Parvati approached, climbed in between his limbs, then crouched and slumped against his chest. Half a minute later she got up, dragged a blanket and a pillow in after her, and made a nest.
"Thank you, Harry, good night."
Harry picked up one arm to look at how she'd arranged herself and sniff her.
She looked up, "Don't lick me," she said.
He resisted that urge, also the urge to sneeze, and put his paw and his head back down.
"Good night," she said again.
.
He was aware of several others joining them throughout the night.
In the morning he cracked an eye to find only Hermione, Nim, and Crookshanks, in her recliner, the rest were settled around him, or on him in the case of Luna. Of course it would be her who'd managed to wedge herself half between his shoulder-blades and half in the gap behind his front shoulder.
He closed his eyes, and concentrated on his magic, and located them all by the marks they wore.
Parvati was still between his knees and elbows, Padma was spooned around one of his front paws, such that the arm she wasn't using to support her head was extended to join her sister's 'heap of wrists'
Susan, tellingly was curled up in the hollow of his neck.
She knew where to touch a cat to non-threateningly appropriate his scent, Somehow Susan displaying that level of animal intelligence made it easy to picture her as already in control of her bulldog form. He ought to reward her by rolling on top of her and stropping the top of his head over her every which way. Except he didn't yet have an accurate guess of his own weight, or of her resilience.
So far as he could tell, she did the most intentional exercise of anyone not on a Quidditch team or a fencing team, (not that climbing dozens of flights of steps every day didn't also count as exercise, for that the dwellers of gryffindor and ravenclaw towers were at a mild advantage).
Ginny was a few feet away, touching Susan's knees, he wasn't sure what orientation, she was hard to place without a mark and therefore a texture of her own.
He might need to offer her something, even if only in hopes that he didn't roll over her in the night. Hermione also. He knew she didn't want his mark on her skin, but she hadn't asked for him to mark her holster or anything, since he and Parvati had proved that concept.
He fixed his hips to be more comfortable, and realised that the discomfort was internal not external. The question was, when and where and how to get up to pee. He could probably wait half an hour, perhaps not that long, definitely not too much longer.
Parvati rustled around and got up. She stood very still and surveyed the scene, then she stepped out of her nest, and around her sister and came to kneel near his head. Staring into his open eye, with lots of intermittent glances at the rest of his face.
She adjusted her holster, and said, "good morning, Harry."
He licked his lips.
She glanced away and licked her lips, as if trying on the gesture to guess what it meant.
She looked back, smiling, and licked her lips, then leaned forward and rubbed her cheek along his exposed gums, what Lions have on their lower jaw in place of lips.
Hmm, could that be translated into words? Was it just a good morning kiss?
She sat up and stared into his eye again.
She wants sex, master.
Thank you, Nim, I'm not sure she does, but she definitely wants affection, or merely a chance to show it to me.
Her eyebrows drew together and she surveyed the sleepers again. And a third time.
Then she stood and backed away and took off her nightgown.
How many layers of underthings do fashion obsessed witches wear?
In a castle, in Scotland, in winter, in front of children and the man she wants but refuses to take?
Yes, well.
As many as she can think of an excuse to look good in.
Yes, well.
If you weren't so sexy as a lion, I might recommend you copying her strategy, if not her particular fashion choices.
Yes, well.
Parvati came back with a bit of broken desk and transfigured it into a hairbrush, and held it up tentatively, "may I? Brush your mane I mean."
Harry tried to purr and only managed a very badly formed sneeze.
She looked concerned and confused, then her eyes went very wide, "Wow," she said and knelt and started brushing his mane with a will, "I was hoping a nod or something, I didn't expect a chuffle."
That did seem to be a somewhat acceptable onomatopoeia for the noise.
Is that a real word?
"I didn't think lions could chuffle," said Parvati.
She seems to think so. How did you do it?
I tried to purr, the way you do, and it went like this.
You can't purr? you poor deprived monster.
"Thank you," murmured Parvati, "I like you too." And she started brushing even more emphatically.
I'm not sure what to think about this,
If she braids it, you've got to return the favour on her mane, someday, preferably when you've got the most chance to annoy her as much as she's annoying you now.
You're not helping, Nim.
Hmm? Oh. Drip … Drip.
Nim, I'm warning you.
Nice …soothing …[waterfall]
I'm bigger than you.
I've got better wand control.
I've got better thrall control.
I don't …
You were saying?
… Mercy, Master, please let go.
…?
I cannot breathe, please don't also stop my heart.
Of course not, … but, remember.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Bully.
Yes, but only in self defence.
Yes, master. I'll try to keep my humour … more acceptable.
Good.
Mostly.
Good enough.
.
In less than five minutes Luna and Susan had both woken up, and Susan conjured them each a hair brush. Shortly after that Padma and Ginny had joined in, though by that time the progress was such that they went straight to braiding.
Apparently there was enough of his mane that full size french braids seemed like cornrows. And there was some debate about lots of straight braids radiating out from his face vs. a zigzag pattern.
.
When the last braid was finished and sealed with an imperturbable, they backed away and let Harry stand and shift back.
"Oh, of course!" said Ginny, "it had to be you."
Everyone looked at her. Luna hugged her, Padma said, "do you normally hairstyle random lions that appear in your bedroom overnight."
Ginny shrugged, "Parvati and Luna started it, I figured they knew what they were doing, also he was obviously already awake and not minding."
Harry nodded, "I didn't mind, and thank you all."
Ginny and Susan relaxed.
.
"What's with the constant humming?" said Dean.
"Huh?" said Harry, and went back to humming.
"You've been humming all morning," said Dean.
"Just feel good today," said Harry.
"He probably got laid last night," said Seamus.
"No," said Harry, "not quite."
"What does 'not quite laid' mean?" said Dean.
Harry yawned, and wished vaguely it had come out as a roar instead.
"It means," said Hermione, "he woke up to someone brushing his hair."
"Not quite, but closer," said Harry.
"You?" said Dean.
"No," said Hermione, "I just braided it."
Seamus glanced over, "not up to your usual standards?" he said.
"To be fair, it was in the dark," said Harry, "cut them some slack."
"Them who?" said Ron.
"Parvati started it," said Harry.
"Why?" said Ron.
"Apparently, she's been wanting a turn to play with my hair, and I never gave her one," Harry shrugged, "so she took one."
"So you chased her off and let Hermione fix it?" said Ron.
"No," said Harry, "I let her finish the brushing. Maybe next week when I take this out, I'll let her try again."
"Yes, well," said Ron and yawned also.
...-...
{End Chapter 16}
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Haven't felt up to editing, and we're closing in on some places where I made some risky plotting decisions, that I wasn't sure I could carry off. I like how most of them turn out, but they make for a darker story than we've had so far.