Granger, we need to talk
Chapter 46
Official disclaimer:
Neither me, nor mine, nor kith, nor kin
hath any claim upon the characters written about within.
It all belongs to JK Rowling and whomever she has assigned rights to.
/
Some not obvious chaos
/**
All three teenagers crawled into the bed and then assumed their favorite position with Harry in the middle of two beautiful women. It was a testament to his exhaustion that even having two bare-chested females half-laying on him, all he wanted to do was try to hold them closer.
The trio was asleep in less than a minute.
/*
Monday, February 1, 1999.
Harry hated when urgent necessity woke him up early.
As he lay there, contemplating the two weights snuggled warmly into his chest, he cursed the undeniable fact that he should have used the loo before falling into bed last night. It was well before sunrise, he could still feel exhaustion pulling at his limbs and fuzzing his brain.
However, nature was not to be denied, and as carefully as possible, he slowly unentangled himself from his girls and staggered into the en suite.
Returning through the door, he had convinced himself that he would not be able to go back to sleep when Hermione's quiet voice ghosted out of the gloom.
"Come back, Harry. It's too early even for you. If you're having nightmares, we will make them go away. And if I'm going to have nightmares, I want my you with me, protecting me."
"How do you refuse someone when they phrase the argument like that?" Harry mused as he carefully climbed over his wild-haired fiancée.
Daphne's sleepy mewled protest against having her arm raised was muted as Harry slid underneath her and cuddled her in tight with his right arm. Hermione snuggled into his left and her breathing soon evened into sleep.
"Greatest way to get extra sleep ever," was his last conscious thought.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The trio was awakened by an insistent voice telling them they had to wake up, they had important visitors whose business was most urgent.
"We're up! We're up!' mumbled Harry and Daphne in unison.
Cracking an eye open and seeing their alarm clock was Kinsey, Harry added shaking most of the remaining cobwebs from his mind, "Kinsey, first, please take Miss Greengrass to her room. Please call a female Hogwarts elf to help her get dressed and returned here. Next coffee and tea with three egg and bacon sandwiches on toast, and a plate of sliced breakfast fruit in fifteen minutes in our common room. Last, tell the visitors we will be wherever they are in half an hour."
Kinsey was reaching for Daphne's hand when Harry stopped him. He looked at Daphne. "Full dress robes. Dress to impress and over-awe. We are not school kids. We are adults and we are the Potter-Black family"
"Kinsey, when you return, please check that Lord Longbottom and his fiancées are awake and know of the Aurors arrival. Inform him I believe dress is Longbottom of Longbottom formal. Then return here for further instructions."
At Hermione's look, Harry explained. "Someone has to put a note on our classroom doors explaining our classes are canceled."
With a 'pop', Kinsey and Daphne disappeared.
"Love, do you want to go . . .? You know, after last night, I don't need a shower. A shave and an attempt at combing my hair and I'll be good. I'll go first, and then get an elf to help you get dressed for our meeting slash questioning slash interrogation."
With that, Harry was off to the WC.
Five minutes later, Harry ignored the 'pop' heralding the arrival of Hermione's elf maid service in favor of continuing to sip his hot coffee. Just as Hermione walked into their shared common room, Daphne was 'popped' in by a female elf that Harry did not know.
Harry passed out napkins and sandwiches. The girls could pick out their own fruit.
Harry made only one demand. "Answer any questions about the fighting truthfully. Any questions about the fishing or why Lord Bulstrode had us visiting, you will refer to me."
With a focused look at Daphne, he continued, "If they separate us and start to get threatening, and you think that the Greengrass name isn't keeping them civil, you will inform your interrogators that I am in betrothal negotiations with your father."
Daphne's eyes widened as her Ice Queen façade cracked slightly at Harry's declaration. A small smile quirked Hermione's lips.
Hasty swallowing of breakfast and half a cup of morning beverage had the three out the door and into the Eight's common room where they ran into the Longbottom's exiting Neville's room.
Ignoring the questions being asked by others scattered around the room as they turned and walked out, Harry and Neville led the group towards the Great Hall.
Just before the doors, Harry stopped and looked at everyone.
"We agreed last night on honesty as we cast nothing dark or illegal. Is everyone ready? And, oh, Nev, if they are nice and polite, I vote we should be polite back. If they give us the 'arrogant adult versus clueless kid' crap, I reckon we should go full Lords-of-Most-Ancient and Most-Powerful-Houses on their arse."
Neville said nothing but gave an evil feral grin in reply.
Together they flung open the paired doors of the Great Hall and strode into the huge room.
Sitting or standing around one end of the Hufflepuff table were a half-dozen Aurors and Headmistress McGonagall.
A tall, dark-haired Auror wearing Senior Auror markings on his uniform stepped forward and greeted the group, his eyes taking in the dress and demeanor of the six.
"Lord Potter-Black, Lord Longbottom, Heiress Greengrass, Heiress Lovegood, Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger, thank you for meeting with us. I am Senior Auror Gawain Robards. We do need to investigate the happenings of yesterday at Lord Bulstrode's castle."
"The way I propose to do this is to have two of you at a time give your statements to us. If you believe you need a solicitor, we will wait for one to arrive. Is that agreeable?"
"Certainly, Senior Auror," said Neville in his best PureBlood Lord tone. "However, as much as you want all the information we know given to you, because much of the circumstances surrounding this affair will be Bulstrode Family secrets, our answers may be . . . less than forthcoming."
Harry could see Robards expression become carefully blank as the ramifications of what Lord Longbottom had just said. The auror had seen the preliminary reports from the questioning of the Bulstrode's and he had hoped to get some of the gaping omissions filled. It was going to make his teams questioning tougher if they had to dodge around Family Secrets as pushing too hard would cause an uproar from all the Old Families.
At McGonagall's suggestion the group moved to a room further down the hall. After a great many privacy spells had been emplaced, they all got down to the business at hand.
"Senior Auror," said Harry. "Perhaps with you joining myself and my fiancées at this end of the table, and your number two can sit across from Lord Longbottom and his two lovely intendeds and we will answer all your questions that we can."
"And perhaps," he continued, smiling thinly, "you can tell us just who that bunch of murderous thugs were. We were a little short of time to interrogate them."
For the next almost three hours, Robards and the other Auror named Watermoor asked, cajoled, and skirted very close to getting told off by two Lords of Most Ancient and Most Noble houses.
The façade of pleasantness lasted until near the end of the questioning period. When the questions were starting to repeat (although differently phrased) Hermione somewhat waspishly started repeating word for word, answers from the first time the question was asked. Catching on to Hermione's plan, Harry, quickly followed by the Longbottom's, started acting more snappish as they started more firmly stating "Talk to the Lord Bulstrode. You're impinging on his Family Secrets."
The glares that were accompanying that statement were becoming sharper and sharper.
Finally, the questions stopped. As the two groups stared across the table at each other, Robards put away his quill and tidied up his pile parchment that contained his notes from the politely disguised interrogation.
"Thank you for your time, Lord Potter-Black. Thank you for your time Lord Longbottom, "stated Robards. "From the way Headmistress McGonagall is starting to glare at us, we have exceeded our welcome."
He continued on. "At the moment we do not know where the pirates came from. Of the survivors, only the second in command has any English at all and it is very poor. We are attempting to find a translator so as to get some answers when we dose them with veratiserum up to their ears."
He smiled wryly at the obviously unhappy group. "I know you want instant answers just as we do. But . . " He shrugged and held his hands low, palms forward in the universal 'there's nothing we can do' sign.
Luna piped up. "Try someone familiar with central Asian languages first."
She looked around at the disbelieving faces around her. "What? Father and I used to travel extensively. They seem familiar from one of our expeditions."
As eyebrows raised further, she scowled. "No, it was not a snorkack hunt. Central Asia is entirely too dry for snorkacks."
And with that pronouncement the somewhat bewildered Auror's left, leaving the group to fill in their story holes with the Headmistress.
Twenty minutes later, with McGonagall's questions as to why her professors had to be the people running around Britannia stopping thieves, pirates and assorted dark wizards from ravaging the place, answered to her scowling dis-satisfaction, the group walked the short distance to the Great Hall for lunch.
The silence and whispers spread from around them as the formally dressed company strode to the Eighth-Year table where they saw Ron and Millicent already eating.
"So, Ron," said Harry in a clear, carrying voice. "You still think the Cannons are going to beat Tutshill Thursday?"
The silence lasted a long moment before Ron whipped right back, "Of course. If Hempstill ups his game a bit, and Flarety catches the snitch, Chudley wins easy, mate."
Millicent reached over and thwacked him on the back of his head. "An' doan you be goin' and wastin' any galleons on yer fantasies either. We'll be needin' all we can scrape together fer afta school."
The remaining six of the bunch looked at each other. Harry and Neville with some confusion. The girls traded smirks, and promptly separated Mils from Ron, and started a whispering conversation that contained vocal 'oooh's and aahs' complete with outbursts of giggles.
The remaining two males plopped themselves down across from Ron and started on working to find why Ron's face was redder than his hair. Neither said anything. They merely hard-stared him.
Ron tried pretending innocence by ferociously concentrating on shoveling his lunch into his mouth. He couldn't help himself though, he kept sneaking quick looks across the table, obviously hoping the other two would go away, get swallowed up by the floor, or something.
The staring finally put him off his feed. (A HUGE achievement)
Nervously putting down his fork, he swallowed several times to clear his throat.
Dropping his eyes, he quietly said, "I asked Lord Bulstrode if my father could open negotiations for a betrothal contract with Mils."
At that, Ron clamped his lips together and somehow managed to add a couple of shades of red to his face and sweat popped out on his forehead.
Harry and Neville glanced at each other and in unison said, "Congratulations, Ron." And with that, they both turned and started to fill their plates.
Ron was left with his jaw opening and closing, but no sound was emerging. Confusion was now evident on his face. After a minute, he shrugged and re-commenced stoking his mouth with food. The other two briefly traded small, triumphant smirks.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The week rushed by. Besides Harry's usual busy schedule, he was frantically working on the last-minute details for the Hogwarts Underground.
It was on Thursday evening that Harry and the main contributors to the charms and transfigurations that made up the pub were showing the assembled professors their final product.
Lisa, Padma's, and A.T.'s transfigurations were tested and approved. Malone and Daphne's charm work was carefully examined. The anti-cheating charms on the games and gaming tables were particularly scrutinized.
Every piece of cooking, cleaning, and drink dispensing equipment was tested and Estee's protections for the very large projector television was explained. As the projector was almost irreplaceable, any testing was done lightly. Its longevity would be the final proof of concept.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
As soon as Harry's Friday fifth-year DADA class was done, he hurried down to the Underground Pub.
Everyone was looking nervous. There was really no work to be finished. The only person fiddling with equipment was Hemione as she worried over the runes and charms of her pinball game.
"Any last words of panic?" With a quelling glance, he continued. "NOT you Hermione. You'll worry until opening. Anyone?"
Surprisingly, no one said anything.
Harry shrugged and said, "Opening is at seven-thirty if you want to be here then."
*/
At seven-thirty, Harry. Hermione and everyone who had worked on the Pub and its entertainments was standing at the top of the twisted double-helix stairway that led to the Pub below. As the inside spiral went down, the outside spiral went up.
Everyone was looking at Harry for some type of speech. Working hard to avoid rolling his eyes at their admiration, he did a short talk on those who had contributed to the latest entertainment spot in Hogwarts.
Finishing his short talk, Harry led the crowd down the stairway, exiting onto the floor beneath the First-Year Devil's Snare, they all walked into the Flying Keys room.
Re-dubbed the Snitch Snatch, the room was set up for two competitors to grab either the golden snitch or the silver snitch at two sickles per try, with a seven-minute time limit.
Harry shook his head at the remembrance of the insane amount of cushioning charms placed on the walls, floor, and ceilings of the room. And the equally insane amounts of anti-collision charms on the refurbished Hogwarts brooms being used.
The old Chess Set room was the main barroom with the bar along the near right side wall. A Snooker and a pool table took up room against the far wall along with two dartboards. A couple of checkers and backgammon tables were scattered in the middle, and pride of place went to the flashing lights lit, very noisy, six knuts a game, Quidditch pinball game Hermione had created out of almost nothing.
The last room was the Troll room and it was set up for quieter pursuits. Two large chess boards with two-feet to three-feet tall pieces and some tables for card games. Harry had been told some game called Whist had some fanatical players in the school.
The last room in the string, the Mirror Room, as Harry thought of it, was to be the movie room. Tomorrow night's offering was to be Star Wars. Might as well start with a bang Harry figured.
Setting an example, Harry strolled up to the bar. "Three fizzy lemon sodas," he ordered and placed a sickle, fourteen knuts down to cover the drink cost. Drink and prices were written on a large blackboard on the wall back of the bar.
One of Harry's hired Hogwarts elves placed first one goblet than the other beneath a spout and pulled a long handle caused the drink to flow into the goblet. Anyone familiar with the Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks would recognize the set-up. Food would come from a small elf-run kitchen off to the left of the bar.
Escorting his two women to a table in the center of the room, Harry pulled out their chairs, then plonked himself down and took a long pull from his goblet. He spent a moment remembering the rear view of the outfits Hermione and Daphne were wearing. Their blouses were form-fitting and matched with short-of-the-knee skirts that hugged their hips before flaring loosely about their thighs.
And Daphne had definitely been using the heels she was wearing to accentuate the swing of her hips while walking in front of Harry.
"So, Seeker, you come here often? What do you do in this place to have fun?" Daphne said seductively, batting her eyes at Harry. The glint in her eyes was not quite so humorous though.
And Harry had a good idea why.
Wednesday, her long-awaited Betrothal Contract had been delivered after being vetted by Gringotts. Harry and Hermione had been too busy to go through it that day, though not so occupied as to allow them to become occupied with each other at bedtime rather than stay up reading the contract.
Thursday, classes, and being engrossed in the last-minute detail work on the Underground Pub, had Harry absolutely exhausted. He returned to his room very late, and without so much as a by-your-leave, fell asleep within a minute of flopping into bed next to her.
Therefore, tonight, the Ice Queen was hanging on to her rigid, frigid persona by a hair. Tonight, was Hermione's night to sleep with Harry. Knowing that she was going to be toasty and warm burrowed into Harry, while she would be singly cold, in her bed alone, was fraying the last of her resolution.
Daphne was also aware that in less than a week, her monthly 'woman's issues' would have her sexuality out of order for the better part of a week.
So, it was with some self-loathing that Daphne recognized that it was jealousy of her Senior Wife that was coursing through her system. She had never been envious of any other female before now, and it was irritating her to no end.
Harry may have had an inkling that Daphne was unhappy but he still could not stop himself from looking at her as though she had grown a second head.
"Uhh . . . no actually. First time," he stammered as her inference zipped past his consciousness, never grazing a receptive synapse.
Daphne collapsed back into her chair and frowned at the table. Hermione rolled her eyes so hard they lost focus for a few seconds.
It took almost a minute, but eventually, an increasingly nervous Harry saw Daphne sweep some strands of hair out of her face as she checked around to see if anyone was close by, and then looked over at Hermione.
"Just to let you know, I blame you for this," she said quietly. "I swear that every time he shags you, you remove as many brain cells as you remove semen cells from his body."
Hermione looked shocked for a moment at Daphne's crassness. Then a large, `in-your-face' smirk bloomed on her face.
"I'll have him brainless within a month," she purred back.
Harry was looking increasingly uncomfortable as his mate and mate-to-be looked as though they were about to square up.
With no warning, Hermione stood up and grabbed Daphne's arm.
"Girls room trip. Back in a few minutes, Harry," she said over her shoulder as she hauled Daphne away.
Seeing he was alone, several of his classmates came by. The mundane-aware students congratulated Harry on the atmosphere of the club. Although many of them wanted to know when he was going to add a dance floor.
Harry smirked, and proceeded to inform them that a dance floor had been included in the original planning. Unfortunately, the Headmistress had decided to perform some research and somehow made her way into a mundane nightclub in London. What she saw going on the dance floor there had so scandalized her that dancing had been interdicted, proscribed, and totally, completely banned from the Underground Pub.
After his girls (?) (Harry was positive he did not own them, but what should he call them?) returned Harry became too involved with people who were complaining about the taste of fizzy drinks or wanted to know what to put on a hamburger or why anyone who pointed a wand at any of the games of the Pub would be banned for life.
As the evening started to wind down, Harry was surprised by the many compliments Hermione's game had received. Just like the King Arthur game from their pub crawl, the fast action and use of magic had made her game the most popular attraction of the Pub.
Twenty minutes to curfew was announced and students started scurrying to make their dorm rooms on time.
Harry and all the rest of those who had contributed their talent and time to the creation of the Pub lagged behind. All their hard work had paid off. Any breakdowns had been minor and easily fixed.
Intense conversations were going on ahead of, and behind Harry, as the rotating circular stairs lifted them up to Fluffy's third-floor room. He mostly ignored them as he figured the house-elves he had hired would have the clean-up well in hand.
Thinking of house elves, that been an interesting set of negotiations, Harry acknowledged.
Theoretically, house-elves needed nothing except high ambient, or a personal wizard or witches, magic. Ergo, getting unattached elves to perform continuing services for a person meant a magical person-house elf bond.
When bringing the idea up to Hermione, Harry figured it would be like kicking a quarter-barrel of Erumpent horn fluid.
He had been partially correct. Mount Hermione wound up and started to explode when she suddenly stopped and glared at Harry.
"Alright, I know you well enough that you would not try to force the house-elves to work for you. That means you have somehow gotten them to agree to perform regular work for you. And since a happy fiancé means Harry Junior remains whole and intact, you will tell me how you did it."
Harry happily had explained.
He had sat in the Hogwarts kitchen with the aged Head Elf, Broup, and Kinsey, the elf assigned to the Eighth-Years dormitory. Harry needed house-elf talent and was trying to convince an elf leader to let some elves work for him with payment of some sort.
The negotiations had become surprisingly simple once Harry had caught on to what the two were telling him.
The house-elf collective desperately wanted land of their own. Not to live there, as living away from their source of magic was impossible.
No, what they wanted was elven farmland. Land where the magical plants and fungi that would enhance elven magic could be raised. And Harry caught an undertone that elves needed certain magical plants to procreate. And the plants were in very short supply in the wild.
What Harry had to do was figure a way to buy some farmland, and let the elves pay him to purchase the land for themselves. And the elves knew just the piece of property they wanted.
It had been a flash of insight when Harry realizing what the elves wanted from him. Months before, Gringotts had shot down his proposal to create a House Elf rental business from the coming house-elf surplus McGonagall had talked with him about last fall. He had no problem planning for strict non-abusive treatment and fair-paying contracts.
However, the goblins had jinxed his broomstick out of the sky by pointing out that Harry could force any of his house elves to tell him anything he would want to know about the people or businesses that had hired his elves. (1)
No one would hire his elven workers under those conditions.
Every elf knew that Mistress Hermininy would never allow the Great Harry Potter to own a house-elf or many elves.
However, if a house-elf worked for wizards, and Harry paid them wages in wizarding coin for working for strange wizards, then the coins could be used to pay back the Great Harry Potter, and after much pleasant hard work, the elves would own land where they could grow the magical elf food they needed.
The convoluted mental hoops that elven logic required made Harry's head hurt, but in the end, he had a wage scale worked out, and a dozen elves hired as Underground Pub employees.
In the meantime. he had Gringotts draw up a contract to be signed by HP Land Developing Co. and the House Elf Contracting Company stating that one Harry Potter was to hold mortgage of the purchased land that the elves wanted. Harry had to be the owner of the land due to the Wizengamot having placed a restriction on non-wizards owning magical land.
The restriction was why goblins lived underground. Centaurs had to live on "gifted" lands from the Ministry. (The proud centaurs were perpetually galled by that condescending attitude.) And House Elves were considered so far down the "Equal-to-Wizards" scale that land ownership was completely forbidden.
With a minimum payment was three galleons per month. Harry fully expected the elves' share of the land to be paid off early. In the end, unless he, Hermione, and the rest could get the law changed, the elves would have to settle for owning forty-nine-point nine percent of the land company.
Harry expected payments to start arriving before he graduated.
Coming back to the present, Harry realized that the girls each had an arm tucked in one of his as they strolled towards the Heads quarters. They were both quiet, letting him have his thoughts.
Harry suddenly appreciated have two friends who knew when not to natter on and ruin a perfectly good silence.
Harry's heart swelled as he made the connection that he was incredibly lucky in having two women who knew him well, let him have his space, and were secure enough in their own personalities that they did not need to have his attention to fill up their idle time.
His affection soared enough that he did something rather un-Harry-ish. He dropped his arms from theirs and grasped them both around the waist as they kept walking, drawing them into closer contact with his body.
Both young women tensed slightly as Harry's hands moved, only for both to quickly relax and then mold themselves closer to him as they moved on.
The three separated from the pack as most of the group entered the common room. Harry wandlessly and silently opened the Head of House door and they walked in without breaking stride. The width of the door opening was smaller than the trio, but through what Harry was positive was female sorcery, the two managed to meld themselves to him without breaking step. And did not detach their closeness as they stopped in the center of the suites' parlour.
Without allowing his usual hesitation at gestures of intimacy to stop him, Harry pulled the girls around to be in front of him and then kissed Hermione deeply.
The bushy-haired brunet molded herself to his body as she eagerly returned the kiss. Breaking off shortly, he turned and did the same to Daphne who also decided she wanted to become his second skin and clutched him strongly.
In less than a minute, Harry again broke the kiss down to gentle pecks and turned once again to Hermione.
She stopped him with an upright finger pressed against his lips. "I know it is my night tonight, but you had best pay attention to your other soon-to-be-wife tonight. This keeping two witches happy is going to require more thought than you ever imagined."
Trying not to look as confused as he felt, Harry decided to look deep into his loves deep brown eyes. She looked solemnly back.
Suddenly Harry could see an impish glint form in her eyes. "Don't wear yourself out tonight, Potter. Remember, at one minute past noon tomorrow, you're mine again. And I intend to make up for lost time. Now, shoo."
With that, she pushed a surprised Harry and a suddenly eager Daphne towards Harry's door.
"I would say, sleep well, but, phfft, like that's going to happen," she said closing the door behind them.
A tear fell as she walked back to her room, but, it was only one. Her smile may have been sad, but it was still a smile. The pang of jealousy was there, but, it was a lot smaller than before.
A/N:
Sorry. This chapter is a little more ragged than my latest standards. Editing time is short and I need to kick it out the door.
One: This problem was swiped from someone's story. Do not remember where I read it, and worse, do not remember his/her solution to the problem.
Whine time. Among other things. Lost a friend, not an acquaintance, a friend, to Covid three weeks ago. Been tough to concentrate on writing.
Am undergoing surgery next week. If things go as typically, the anesthetic will fry my brain for several weeks. Lots of pain will do the rest. Chapter 47 will probably be late and/or short.
However, fear not. Likely two, maybe three, more chapters should see the "BIG C" added to the story description.