Chapter Thirty-Two
Healer Therese Gordon sat back for a moment as she stared at her boss. Chief Healer Hubert P. Allen, Head of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries stared back without a bit of guile in his face. It worried her. Whenever he got that way it usually didn't mean anything good for her. He waited until it was almost quitting time, too. That meant he could go home and she had to stay over and do whatever he'd waited to tell her about. It wasn't the first time, the second time, or even the fifteenth time he'd done it. Not even close.
She was going to kill him one day and nobody would argue once she gathered up enough people who knew him.
"Wait, Hubert. You're telling me that two people that have been dead for nearly twenty years have come back to life through some means that can't really be explained after having been killed by the Killing Curse?"
"That's right."
"And you want me to evaluate them and treat them for whatever illnesses that might manifest?"
"Yep."
"And because of my dual qualifications in general healing and mind healing, it just so happens that I'm the best one for the job."
"Got it."
"And required parchmentwork related to identification, inoculations, magical core testing and all that has been handled by another department and I don't have to worry about it?"
"Right in one."
"And my other cases have to be shifted to another healer for now?"
"Well, duh."
"And when am I supposed to do this?"
"First thing tomorrow morning. Have fun! I have a tee time about then. See ya!"
He escaped her office, a truly sadistic chuckle trailing merrily in his wake. She stared at the empty doorway. She jumped up and ran to the door to shout after him.
"Wait! Who is it! You didn't say!"
"You'll see!" came the reply from a distance. Suddenly, she remembered something else.
"Tomorrow's supposed to be my day off, you jerk!"
There was only faint laughter. She glared in his general direction wherever he disappeared to, hoping something zapped him in very tender places. Therese Gordon was going to kill her boss. As slowly as she could manage it. She didn't know when or how but it was going to happen.
-===(| - |)===-
There was a discussion going on in one of the newly-opened quarters in Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey had examined them after their plight with the Mace and Beak and found that sure enough, there was a magical marriage bond between them. No one knew quite what to think about it, but it explained a couple of things.
It also explained why Harry had to be treated for a mild concussion after he fainted at the news. He'd landed on the hard stone floor with a sickening hollow thump. After he woke up, Madam Pomfrey told him he was going to fix the crack in her floors or be on a liquid diet the next time he wound up in his reserved bed.
Neither of them was quite ready for the drastic advancement in their relationship that marriage implied, but Harry knew better than to admit out loud that he'd been thinking about that part more than a few times. Based on the pinking of Hermione's cheeks, she possibly would be thinking of that herself.
Dan and Emma was less than happy with the suddenness of the news, but conceded that the presence of Magic in the ritual that a blushing Hermione finally owned up to could have that effect. Considering that James and Lily sat on the other loveseat in the new quarters as Harry and Hermione spoke, they couldn't really discount the amazing miracle that had happened. They finally got up and hugged both of them, but was adamant about not having any grandchildren to spoil for a good while. Emma was heard mumbling to Lily about chastity belts and whether Magic had something similar. Lily had answered something in the same tone of voice, but no one wanted to ask for details.
Sirius could be seen going around collecting Galleons and laughing.
Later that night would be the first night they spent together due to the requirement Magic had laid on them. Until then, there was a few details to iron out. One of those details was the centaur's arrow. It bugged both of them that the centaurs knew long before they did. It explained some of why Kateira giggled so much. Not all, but some.
"I think I should frame the letter with the arrow, too."
"Good idea. It's a good thing you had Professor McGonagall make copies of it. You do know that 'young stallion' is going to be your name with the Centaur Herd until the day you die, right?"
Harry sighed and facepalmed. It was about all he could do in response, really. He mumbled through his fingers.
"Yes, I know. At least it's better than 'The Boy-Who-Lived,' but I don't want to explain to Molly Weasley or even Ginny how I got it."
"Or Ron."
"Or the Twins."
"Can you just see what they would put in their shop for 'Young Stallion' merchandise?"
The snicker in Hermione's voice was very evident. Harry paled and tried not to think about it.
"I really hope they don't find out."
"In this castle? Good luck. Did you already forget Kateira's visit? She'd be so hurt that you didn't notice her… cleavage. Besides, Ginny's already asked me about your new nickname and whether… well, you can guess. I just didn't tell you about it. The Twins haven't mentioned it."
It seemed to Harry that he was going to facepalm his nose off. After a moment and several deep breaths on his part, Hermione went on.
"You know who would be worse than any Weasley, don't you?"
"Who? Voldemort?"
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated at that thought. He wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord to send him a Howler or something. It would be creepy, too.
"No, although I doubt he'd see the humor as uptight as he is," Hermione conceded.
"Who, then?" Harry didn't want to get into what was humor and what wasn't, especially where a mad Dark Lord was concerned.
"Rita Skeeter."
Harry's eyes widened.
"Oh, no. Not her. I'd rather the Twins instead of her!"
"Imagine the licensing deals they would come up with, though. You do have name recognition, you know. They would get even richer just from you."
Harry moaned in dread at the thought. Hermione went on, thoughtfully.
"Of course, you could demand a percentage of the profits. Even at, say… fifteen percent, you'd have enough in just the first month to buy the next model of Firebolt. Probably six or seven. That's enough for a Quidditch team, right?"
Harry held his head in his hands. He didn't want to imagine it. When he looked up, Hermione had that look in her eyes, and he just groaned again. Thoughts of endorsing anything the Twins would think of for any conceivable product labeled 'Young Stallion' made him want to ask Dumbledore for that bottle of brandy.
He thought about it again and decided to see if he could ask for two. Surely the old man would understand, right?
-===(| - |)===-
The next morning, understanding was far from Harry's mind. He'd missed a 'special late edition' of the Daily Prophet and even Hermione hadn't thought to read it as she was too busy tweaking Harry about any possible additions to the Twins' merchandise layout in between kisses. As it happened, a brigade of house elves took delivery of the papers from irritated owls that had been looking forward to a comfortable sleep. Their routine had been disrupted and they took it out on the hapless elves.
The senior elf of Hogwarts, with the title 'Deacon,' realized that his underlings was taking abuse from the owls and snapped his fingers to calm the raptors. He thought it was quite ingenuous to apply owl-shaped muzzles and didn't care that whoever owned the owls would have to remove them. If a mad owl snapped at fingers after that, it wasn't his lookout.
The papers were delivered to the subscription holders, some of whom read the main article out of either boredom or worry about what could possibly possess the Daily Prophet to print something that couldn't wait until morning? What was so important?
Since Harry and Hermione had their own quarters and turned in for the night due to the fact that both wanted to get up early, they missed the reaction that spread throughout the Castle that night.
However, Harry wondered why everyone was staring at him as he escorted Hermione to a breakfast that was a bit late. They had been up early to try to figure out the vagaries of the Beak and the Mace and what to do with the implanted abilities. It had been a trying time but they slogged through their efforts and felt like they had more of a handle on it.
The Great Hall got a bit quieter for a moment as all eyes focused on them, then loud whispers buzzed around from seat to seat and table to table. Harry looked at Hermione.
"Do I have something on my face?"
Neville rushed up and tugged Harry to the side. His godbrother had a paper folded to a story, and jammed it into his hand.
"Harry, you and Hermione need to read this. Quick."
"What is it, Nev?"
"It arrive last night. Special Edition. There are no words to describe it, Harry. Read."
Hermione had already read it while Harry was talking, and he turned to see that her face was quite red. He looked down at the page, and as he read, his eyebrows got higher and higher as his eyes got bigger and bigger.
"What the ever-living hell…" he breathed.
Potter Progeny's Profusely Proud Phallus!
By Rosy Cannyitch
It has come to our attention that a long held secret of the Potter family has been released from a previously firm grasp. For decades, centuries even, the Potter line has been upstanding in many ways. From charity work for the downtrodden, to community measures for the benefit of all, to battle in the defense of the realm, Potters throughout history have thrust their mark deep within to withstand the tests of time.
Now, we've discovered another way the Potters go the length to distinguish themselves.
Brace yourselves Magical Britain, for what's coming.
Multiple reports have arrived in our newsroom of a particularly nubile young woman singing (gasping?) the praises of the Boy-Who-Lived's totally terrific tool. This reporter hit the streets to ask around, and while the subject of discourse was understandably discussed with some discretion, much was learned. The preeminent nickname given by that nubile nympho, which in my opinion has the staying power to eclipse the BWL label, is that of the 'Young Stallion.'
This erects quite a bit of speculation, dear readers. Rumors have been circulating for some time about the return of James Potter, and one wonders with heated debate on the reputed abilities of this famed swordsman and the sheath he required. Should speculation be confirmed by whatever method, then it stands to reason that like father, the son Harry would blaze his own trail with similar abilities.
No Potter wife, concubine or mistress has ever complained that a Lord Potter failed to measure up to the task of ensuring House Potter continues or see that the bloodline's gifted virility underpinned the very base of Magical Britain. Until the battle with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, there were no surfeit of Potter men to continue the bloodline. Indeed, over the centuries the Potters ensured their women remained full and satisfied. From what I can gather, the Young Stallion has a broad legacy to live up to and he obviously intends to follow that to the hilt.
As my loyal readers are quite aware, names carry their own power. Why the Potters have decided to now extend their reach into the consciousness of the public with a previously unknown family ability is beyond me. Attempts to reach the Potters for solid details were frustrated just like many interested witches wanting to know the same details.
Should there be any more details spurting out from the Boy-With-A-Big-Stick, be assured that I will be right here to gather it to me!
Suddenly, all the glances and outright lewd looks headed his way made a lot more sense.
"Right, then. We carry on."
Hermione stared up at his sudden declaration, surprised to hear such a thing fall from his lips. It seemed that Harry remembered his Britishness – apart from the 'keeping calm' part, which he had problems with at times – and was up to something. What, she didn't know and of course that worried her. She shot a glance as Neville and he didn't look any more enlightened than she was.
He straightened up, handed the still-folded paper back to Neville with a nod, and tucked Hermione's hand in the crook of his arm. Neville directed a questioning peek at his godbrother, and noticed Luna smirking at him from across the hall.
"If they want a show, we'll give them a show. Right, Hermione?"
She rolled her eyes.
"It wouldn't be the first time, would it?"
"Nope. Nev, time to go. Potters and Longbottoms, right?"
He nodded to Neville, who fell in at Harry's other side. The three of them walked to the Staff table with shoulders thrown back and heads upright where James and Lily were seated today. It was like a formal procession, and no one knew what Harry was up to. That included Neville and Hermione, who had decided to just go with whatever Harry planned on the spur of the moment. After all it was what he did best, even if the results sometimes didn't go as well as he wanted.
Absolute silence followed them as they moved the length of the Great Hall with a steady step. The sounds of Harry's and Neville's heels could be heard on the stone floor, neatly drowning out Hermione's lighter steps. Looks were exchanged between students at the House tables, and for that matter those at the Staff table. Professor Flitwick looked on in speculation as he raised an eyebrow while Professor Dumbledore hid his confusion. From the looks on the faces of most of the others, they felt the same way.
Minerva McGonagall groaned inside. She'd caught the gleam in Harry's eye. The same gleam she was absolutely sure was mirrored in the face a few seats down that looked so much like her Gryffindor cub. She had seen that same gleam in that same face many years ago more times that she wanted to admit to without several wee drams at hand.
She visibly restrained herself from looking at Professor Flitwick, having lost count how many bottles she owed him now. Her sharp ears heard the light chuckle coming from that traitor.
Dan and Emma was seated on the other side of James, but hadn't seen the paper's salacious article yet. As a result they were as mystified as everyone else.
The trio made a relatively sharp wheel with only a couple of shuffled steps, Neville not stumbling at all. They stopped in front of James Potter. Beside him, Lily sighed softly in resignation but decided not to ruin whatever Harry was up to. She made eye contact with Hermione and the silent communication between them was clear to each other.
What is he up to, Hermione?
I have no earthly idea.
Does he do this a lot?
More than I like.
How do you put up with this?
The same way you do, I suspect.
Merlin help us all.
Indeed.
A quick glance to her mother and a similar communication followed, and Emma quickly slipped her hand into Dan's to squeeze it. He squeezed back, waiting to see just what was going on and not seeing the little grin on her face. Magic made some people crazy, he thought, not for the first time but he was pretty sure Harry was up to something here. It just bugged him not to know what or why.
Neville, of course, didn't know any of this. The look Luna had given him had nearly made him burst out in laughter and while he was just as confused as everyone else, he could handle it. He had Luna to help him. Whether that made him more or less used to being confused or Luna was all his, he wasn't sure. He was going to stand right here and find out what was going on at the source this time, instead of third and fourth hand.
Harry gently grasped Hermione's hand and shifted it to his right hand, then used that hand to lift it to his lips where he placed a light kiss on it before turning back to James and stiffening his back. Beside him, Neville did the same thing. Harry spoke in a formal voice.
"My Lord Potter!" The tension in the Great Hall ratcheted up, since no one had expected anything formal out of Harry Potter. His voice carried, bouncing off the walls.
James was laughing inside, even as he kept his face blank.
Oho. Harry's up to something for sure and wants me to join the prank? Well he is the son of a Marauder, the godson of other, and the nephew of yet another. This is gonna be good and I bet it has to do with that damnable newspaper article Lily found this morning. She's still stewing about it.
He stood, with all the gravitas that he could muster. James was biting his tongue to keep the grin off his face. One hand was cradled inside the other at his front, and one of his hidden fingers wiggled to cast one of Lily's spells.
"Heir Potter. What brings you before me this day?" His voice sounded quite unlike anything the others had heard from him before, with a power that made the House tapestries hanging from the wall jiggle a bit.
Lily Potter was doing her very best not to facepalm. When all this was over, she was going to have a stern talk with her boys and Hermione could take whatever she left behind. Her stage actor spell wasn't supposed to be used like this! Harry continued as though nothing was out of the ordinary. James wondered if it was going to be a good idea to teach him poker. It could be expensive for him if Harry had that kind of poker face already.
"I come before you to present two matters before you, My Lord."
James raised an eyebrow politely.
"Oh? Speak on. My ear is yours."
"First, to my left. I present my godbrother, a true Gryffindor, a stalwart friend and a stout heart. Heir Longbottom, Neville by name, has hewed to the ancient rule of where a Potter goes, a Longbottom follows. As you see, he stands beside me in true brotherhood as I present the second matter unto you."
Neville blushed a bit. James gave him a very minuscule wink that he almost missed.
"I see and I accept Heir Longbottom's presence as a continuance of the longstanding alliance between House Potter and House Longbottom. I find myself pleased to see the strength displayed here today. You stand as brothers and as expected during this meeting, as family."
Oh, brother, Emma thought. These two belonged on a stage somewhere, chewing up the scenery. A glance at Dan's eyes dancing with laughter almost made her laugh.
"Indeed, my Lord, which brings me to another kind of strength… or stamina, perhaps. It pleases me greatly to present before you my soon to be intended, Miss Hermione Granger."
Emma squeezed Dan's hand as hard as she could to keep him quiet. He almost bit his tongue off at the sudden pain and shot a glance at her.
James made a show of examining Hermione from his position at the raised table. She stared back at him defiantly with her back straight. Lily stomped on his foot to keep him from overdoing it and he almost bit off his own tongue. To cover the wince, he nodded his head and hemmed a moment or two.
"She has spirit, Heir Potter. I can see that clearly. However, you know of the reputed… abilities of House Potter. Those things that we do not speak of publicly even as we do not present Intendeds privately. Have you assurance that Miss Granger possesses those qualities to adequately channel those abilities in the continuance and services of House Potter?"
"No, my Lord."
Hermione's head jerked to face him in shock. He didn't look at her, waiting for the stupefied gasps from all around the Great Hall to subside. Emma was really squeezing Dan's hand now as Harry went on.
"I cannot agree or stipulate to the word 'adequately.' My Lord, I would respectfully suggest the word 'superbly' or perhaps 'supremely' would be most suitable choices to fit."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry, who managed to keep a straight face and Neville managed to remember how to breathe.
"Ah, of course. So be it. Please forgive me, Miss Granger. I seem to have misspoke."
Two, or three rather, can play at that game, Hermione thought as she transferred the narrowed eyes to James. She hadn't missed the gleam of prankery in his eyes either. She dipped into a formal curtsey.
"Such common banality is to be expected, My Lord, as age progresses its ravages on the long undiscovered country of the mind."
James snorted. He couldn't help it. She'd just insulted him three or four ways in one sentence and with a straight face, too! Lily gave her a surreptitious thumbs-up and Professor McGonagall muttered a quiet "ten points to Gryffindor."
So did Professor Snape, except he awarded fifteen points. He told himself it was for the girl not putting up with Potter's bullshite and wished her luck in dealing with two of them.
"Bravo, Miss Granger! I concede your point. There are other things between us to be discussed in a more private setting, but I can see that when the time comes you will make a formidable Lady Potter. I welcome you to the family and look forward to the day when the future title of 'Intended Hermione' becomes 'Lady Hermione.'"
The three teens responded, Harry and Neville with deep bows and Hermione with a deep curtsey. As they returned upright, James clapped his hands and a nimbus of light descended on them. It faded as it reached the floor. Lily knew it was one of the Marauder prank products that had expired long ago but had just enough oomph left it in for a minor light show. Her prank-loving husband had been looking for a reason to see if it still worked.
"I am well pleased by your choice, Heir Potter and I wish you luck. Have you any further public House business?"
"Nay, My Lord, but for the mention of this illicit 'article' trespassing upon Family matters."
James frowned and did his best to give himself a turbulent look on his face. He was going to have to see Madam Pomfrey about his tongue if this kept up.
"Indeed, such is troubling to me. I knew on the day of your birth that you would carry the House to greater lengths than many in your ancestry and I rest secure in the knowledge of our House's future. This, though, is not in the interests of House Potter even though I am aware that changes happen. I will look into this with all haste, as the abilities, capabilities, and shall I discreetly say facilities of our family line should be respected the same as any other House. With great power comes great responsibility," here he eyed his son, who managed to keep from rolling his eyes yet again and the Muggleborn in the Great Hall stifled chuckles.
"Thank you, My Lord," Harry said gravely.
James nodded.
"Then our Family Business is concluded until next time." Lily rose when James tapped her foot twice under the table. She figured she might as well play along until she could get him back to their quarters and ask him what in the hell he was doing.
James looked at his son and vaguely waved his hand in benediction.
"Potentiae; sui, virtutem sanguinis, virtus familia," he intoned gravely. Lily, Harry, Hermione and Neville repeated it after him and he sat down. Harry moved Hermione's hand down into the crook of his arm and with Neville, turned to march to their seats for breakfast.
Meanwhile, James leaned over to Lily and whispered in her ear after dropping the spell.
"Thank you, sweetheart. I tried to play along with whatever Harry was doing and I bet we'll find out later what he was doing. I don't think he liked that article any more than you did."
She nodded and he turned to Dan to bring him up to speed, since he didn't look too happy and quite confused at the giggling fit Emma was currently suffering from. They also agreed to find out from Harry what he was up to.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry made sure that Hermione was seated and gripped forearms with Neville before sitting.
Ron watched all this with a raised eyebrow.
"What the bloody hell was all that about, Harry?"
"You didn't read the paper?"
"What paper? It hasn't been delivered yet." Apparently, he didn't know either.
"From last night. Here, look."
The paper was passed to Ron, still folded. He took his time and they all knew it disturbed him by the fact that he forgot to eat. Everyone was on pins and needles with impatience as time went on as Ron never was the speediest of readers like Hermione. Harry couldn't say much there as he wasn't that fast either. Ron shrugged after a moment.
"Eh, whatever. Just some git trying to use your name to generate buzz. Say, what was the Cannons score?"
Finally, he put it down as owls flooded the Great Hall for mail call. Most headed toward Harry and ignored Hermione. It was about to get messy with owls fighting over being the first to deliver when Hedwig and Gleamtalon flew in. A moment later, Crookshanks puffed his way in and clawed himself an open spot across from Harry. Gryffindors scooted away rubbing sore rears and gave the half-kneazle room. He yowled at the owls, who recognized his voice and the fighting stopped. The post owls fluttered up to the rafters and regarded him warily.
Gleamtalon displaced the owl on the highest rafter and took his place. Hedwig barked her displeasure at the ruffians soiling the revered position of Post Owl. Below, there was blushes and quite a few glances at Harry. When he noticed them, he shrugged. No one had to understand Owl, but it was evidence that Hedwig was whipping the invaders into shape using very creative verbiage and not caring what others thought about it. Snape raised an appreciative eyebrow at the female owl's evident biting sarcasm. He'd have to find a way to give her a few owl treats without Potter finding out.
After a good five minutes of nonstop haranguing by the Snowy Owl, she deigned to let the first owls descend to make their deliveries by ranks. Crookshanks supervised arrivals and swatted the owls that tried to look overly important. A good deal of the students could see the very disapproving stare that Gleamtalon gave the owls and shivered by association. Most sat up straight and silently when his glance swept over them.
Dumbledore leaned over to McGonagall. Amusement twinkled in his blue eyes.
"Too bad we can't hire old Gleamtalon to teach."
"Or Hedwig to be a Head of House," she replied.
-===(| - |)===-
Professor Flitwick leaned over to Professor Sprout. The grin on his face was a bit disturbing but she was used to it after long acquaintance.
"Act Two, maybe?"
She looked at all the owls. It seemed that there was three times as many. It had started as more of a horde than a parliament to her way of thinking. The last time she saw this many owls was during the newspaper articles about the Triwizard Tournament.
"Probably more like Act Three. We just saw Act Two."
"James was really shoveling it left, right and center, wasn't he?"
She snorted and wiped the orange juice off her robes.
"True, but Harry started it. Did you see Hermione's face?"
"I did, indeed. For Harry's sake and continued health, I hope the rumors in the paper are true."
She snorted again and had to wipe more orange juice.
-===(| - |)===-
While the owls were humbly delivering their burdens to an ever-growing pile, Luna strolled over and plopped down practically in Neville's lap.
"Hello, Luna. What brings you over here?"
"Oh, just thinking about something quite evident."
This answer made most of Gryffindor shiver. That could be anything. The Ravenclaws knew that already.
"And what might that be, my little adorable moonbeam?"
Eyebrows raised at Neville's endearments. Girls glared at boys who suddenly realized that they had some catching up to do.
"I was thinking my wild stallion needs something to remember me by."
"Impossible. I couldn't forget you if I tried, and if I tried I'd hurt myself ripping away the memories of the loveliest thing I've ever had the pleasure to worship with these unhallowed eyes."
Girls glared at boys again, who suddenly realized that they were much farther behind than they thought. Harry grinned and threw a thumbs-up at him. Hermione leaned over to him, watching the mail pile grow, and whispered, "When did Neville get so smooth?"
"When I gave him a book with some eighteenth century sonnets. He must have studied them and took lots of notes."
Luna's eyes flickered at Neville. A few people noticed that his eyes answered the flicker and started to wonder.
"What if I wanted to control my wild stallion?"
Eyebrows rose. Neville didn't miss a beat.
"Then I would remind you that the ride is only part of the effort. Being in control means there's not a chance for submissiveness that can be sweet surrender."
Mouths fell open.
"Mmmm. That's something to think about. I'll leave you something and you can decide who needs it more."
"If it's from your hands and your heart, I'll treasure it," Neville grinned, "beyond measure."
"Go, Nev," Harry whispered in amazement. "Damn. He's showing me up."
"Not just you," Hermione agreed. "Look at everyone else."
He did. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was looking at Neville in shock, and Ravenclaw seemed to be shifting coins between themselves. Slytherin couldn't hear what was being said from the other side of the Great Hall and it bugged them.
Luna kissed him, leaving him a bit cross-eyed. When he was still blinking, she dropped a short riding crop by his plate. It was blue with bronze accents and everyone at the Gryffindor table was still staring at it with mouths agape when Luna sauntered back to her seat at the Ravenclaw table.
Harry looked at the others.
"Does anyone want to get in Luna's way, considering that she might have more than that hidden away somewhere?"
There was a lot of quick head shaking going on.
"And aside from his current spacey condition, are we agreed that Neville knows what he's doing?"
There was a general chorus of yeses up and down the table, with glares thrown in at certain others.
"And last question – well, second to last actually – did anyone see that coming?"
A general chorus of noes this time. Ron spoke up, still shaking his head at Neville's new toy.
"You said second to last. What's the last?"
Harry grinned.
"What the bet on finding them in a broom closet versus a greenhouse? Any takers?"
-===(| - |)===-
At the Staff table, Professor Sprout moaned to herself rather loudly. She had heard Harry's last question all too clearly. Professor Flitwick looked at her inquisitively as he carved a huge bite of rare steak and chewed on it. He had a pretty good idea what was bothering her.
"I'm going to have to start knocking on greenhouse doors and windows first, aren't I?"
He grinned.
"Probably. And maybe waiting a minute or two. It could be now we know why the plants have been doing so much better."
She just glared at him.
-===(| - |)===-
Harry looked crossways at the rather large pile of mail. There was no way that he was going to be able to go through all this before class. Sighing, he summoned Dobby and asked him to make sure there wasn't anything dangerous in the pile and to put it somewhere to side in their quarters. He would go over it all sometime tonight, with Hermione's help.
Gleamtalon and Hedwig had ushered the last of the disgruntled owls out and was about to leave when a late arrival puffed his way in. He was carrying a Howler and looked much less than thrilled to be the one to deliver it. The Howler detached itself and took a swan dive toward Harry. Hedwig chased after it, but oddly it was able to corner better than she was. Gleamtalon decided he was too old for that nonsense and just watched.
The Howler gracefully evaded all attempts to catch it. It opened itself with an odd sense of flirtatiousness and slinked around on the table. A chilling voice filled the air but it wasn't as bad as Molly Weasley's howlers. It purred out into the Great Hall.
"Oh, widdle baby Potter isn't so much a baby anymore. Rawr!"
Harry sat up, his eyes wide. That voice was far too familiar to him and many others.
"Please don't tell me Bellatrix Lestrange decided to send me a Howler," he groaned. The Howler in question was merrily dodging everything sent its way, even as it Howled. It even took a drink out of Neville's pumpkin juice as it danced around.
"If I'm reading this Daily Prophet right, you've grown into a FINE strapping young man and you're seriously packing! You're a tripod! Oooooohhh, that means I can't call you 'widdle baby Potter' anymore. Watch yourself, Big Boy Potter… If I happen to 'come' upon you, I'll teach you how to use that."
The voice started to moan out the words, but was no less chilling.
"How long can you last, Big Boy Potter? Two weeks? I'll tie you down and TEACH you everything you need to know AND if you're a good student, I'll let you tie me down for a final exam… FACE down! It's been a while since I had a good long shag, Big Boy Potter. Soooo long! There's not many out there long enough for me, Big Boy Potter, and I think you'll do just fine. Watch your back, Big Boy Potter. I'll be looking for you. Or rather, something else of yours. MMMM! So big!"
Harry shook his head when the Howler stopped. He was a bit green and frankly so was a lot of others. He started to say something, when the Howler went on. It sounded a bit breathless. There was a faint repetitive squishing sound in the background. Quite a few eyes went wide and faces went red and no one wanted to speculate about what it was. Everyone tried to catch the Howler, but it would not be denied. Even Dumbledore was having a hard time.
"Oh, and Big Boy Potter? If you do well enough and breed me, I'll give you a whole month of fucking! A week off for recovery and then another month! Another week and so on until the baby is born, then I'll start alllllllll over. You're big enough to handle that… aren't you? You can make me gush with that big… long… HUGE…"
The Howler devolved into a long orgasm shrieking out into the Great Hall and an echoing kiss. The last words from it gasped out.
"ooooo… Big Boy Potter… I'm so… READY!"
At that, the Howler shivered and exploded with another shriek. Everyone looked at Harry Potter, who cursed the fact that he didn't have his Invisibility Cloak with him for once.
Hermione decided that enough was enough. Harry looked like he was about to pass out, so she acted.
Her kiss was slow and sweet, and the Great Hall was more silent as they watched. Everyone could hear what she said when she released him.
"Harry, forget that barmy old witch. She went around the bend years ago. Remember you asked me a question recently and things prevented me from answering you? The answer I have for you will protect you from anxious old itchy witches like that."
Harry was a bit slow but managed to catch up.
"Yes?"
She looked at him. It took a moment but he suddenly realized what she was talking about. She nodded when she saw the realization in his eyes.
"Ask me again, Harry. Right now."
He nodded, trying to remember how he phrased it. Harry had forgotten, but decided to do what he did best in situations like this and wing it straight from the heart. Everyone watched him, wondering what was going on although several had a pretty good idea. He stood up and tugged the front and back of his robes, twitching the few wrinkles away. There was a gust in the Great Hall as he knelt before Hermione and took her hand in his. His voice carried, even without the benefit of a Sonorus spell.
"Hermione, you are my light at the end of a long dark tunnel, the quiet cove at the end of rough seas, the quiet dignity and supreme grace that I lack. I am nothing without your hand in mine and without you I would be lost without hope or redemption. I trust you with my heart, my body, my mind, and my soul. I trust you with my love and with that love I ask that you consent to join with me in the bonds tighter and more secure than any we've known before. Melding our lives, our hearts, our selves… our love. Hermione Granger, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"
Had Hermione looked around, she would have seen a fair few faces turning purple. Whether that was from anger or held breaths, she wouldn't have said. Absently, part of her mind remarked that he did romantic things pretty well when he put some effort into it but another part prodded her to answer. After all, she had told him to ask her again. Questions required answers, right?
She stared into his eyes and forgot all about the others hanging on her next answer. She didn't hear a few meaty thumps from the other side of the Hall. Harry didn't either, just stared up at her as he waited. He looked like he was prepared to wait on that hard stone floor for the next week for her answer.
Hermione beamed at him and he squeezed her hand lightly.
"Yes, Harry. I will marry you."
It was hard to tell if the resulting noise was cheers or groans.