3. Making a Home
I spent a day visiting the properties using my one-way portkeys provided by Gringotts and managed to key myself into the wards and floo at the Black Apartment and the Black Barn, as they were apparently called.
There were merits to both locations, but I fell in love with the Black Barn immediately. There was a green field surrounded by thick trees with a two-storied home next to the pond located smack dab in the middle.
A book I found in the warding room told me that there were muggle-repelling, wizard-repelling, unplottable, magic suppressing, anti-lightning, anti-bugs, and anti-fire wards over the whole field and a bit beyond. That alone was impressive, but the inside of the home did it for me. It was cosy, there was no other word for it. Sure, there needed to be some extensive upgrading in the furniture department, plus new pots and pans and stuff like that, but it already felt like a home to me.
The Black Apartment had no such feel to it. It was an empty shell, covered in colour combinations that should be destroyed and obliviated from my mind. Unfortunately, that couldn't be done, and I wasn't feeling up to the task of turning that place into a home. The location was more central because it was in the middle of London, but I honestly preferred the solitude I found at the Black Barn.
Decision made, I floo'd back to the Alley and gave Grinlast permission to start investing. My trust vault had more than enough to let me update the Barn and live comfortably for many years to come. Grinlast even told me where to buy furniture, so I immediately made my way to the recommended store.
It was a store that was expanded as far as it could go, more of a warehouse than a store really, but it had everything I could ever want. To make it easy on myself, I invited one of the salespersons over to help me decide. All I needed to do was to allow them access for the day, and from that point on, it took us only a few hours to get the whole house kitted out and feeling warm. Jeffrey, which was his name, also sold me a bunch of books on home remodelling, furniture care, spells for home upkeep, and everything else a person needed to live on their own. Jeffrey's co-worker Walder was hired to redo the bathroom, spells and all. Because I hadn't even known that was necessary, I was more than happy to leave it to him.
I spent a whopping twelve hundred galleons all told that day, but I now had a place to live, to actually live in. That made it more than worth it.
The rest of the day I spent bringing my stuff over to the Barn, paying for my room at the Cauldron, buying a ton more books for my schooling, buying a new, slightly expanded and magically secured trunk, and doing groceries.
"And now to bed." I grinned as I dropped my clothing to the floor and put on a fitting silk pyjama. "Ah, this is the life." The bed was every bit as good as the ones at Hogwarts, and my pyjamas and bedding were both enchanted with all the comfort charms. I slept as snug as a bug.
-..-
Hedwig greeted me when I woke up, and I saw she had a letter. "Hey there Hedwig, can you bring the letter here please, I'm way too comfortable to get out of bed yet."
With an agreeable hoot, Hedwig hopped on the bed and extended her leg. I took the letter and read it.
Dear Miss White,
This is your manager Grinlast speaking, and I have interesting news. First, you might want to read the Prophet today, because news of your demise has spread beyond the Order of the Phoenix after our stupid curse breaker told his club leader of your death. I hope this news doesn't spoil your day, and if it does, have some more good news to compensate.
Our trap caught three bugs already, one a literal bug that turned into a witch! Director Ragnok is fully convinced that this is the best trap in this decade, because we've already found two traitors in our own ranks. If you are interested in their fates, know that the Goblin we caught is now permanently a foot shorter, the Wizard we caught has lost his job and is bankrupted, and the Witch-Bug we caught has been delivered to the DMLE with orders to charge her for breaking the Treaty. According to the laws on that, she'll be going to Azkaban for quite a while, that is if she doesn't go straight through the veil. Neither race wants another war, so breaking the Treaties means harsh punishments. We're all curious to see what the Wizengamot will decide on their end. If the punishment is below treaty rules, we are allowed to grab the witch to serve the remainder of her time in the goblin mines, plus a modest fine will have to be paid by the Ministry. Ragnok is quite sure they'll forget to consult the treaty even though we named it in the letter to the DMLE, so he's already counting on the money.
On that subject, I'm quite excited to start making us money, so I've been diving into the information available to me in order to find opportunities. In other words, I'm having fun. I hope your home is shaping up okay and remind you to owl me if you need anything else.
With best regards,
Grinlast.
That was interesting, but I didn't have a subscription to the Prophet, so I needed to go to the Alley to buy one. Visiting Ollivander to catch up seemed like a no-brainer, and I could grab a nice breakfast at the Cauldron while I was there as well.
Nice, that was my morning plans all filled up. Who said living on your own was hard?
The fact that I was out of floo-powder was a good point in favour of that theory, and I decided that I really needed to learn how to apparate.
Thankfully, I still had one one-way portkey to Diagon Alley for just this sort of case, because I hadn't known if I would be able to enter either property, and going back via the Knight Bus would have sucked arse.
Tom pointed me in the right direction when I asked him where to buy the powder and advised me to keep a pouch on me. He even told me about rings that held an emergency stash in them that some women wore for just such a purpose.
Breakfast was delicious as always, and this time I took the time to savour it as I read the Prophet. The articles were actually quite interesting, and I was rather shocked when I learned that my uncle was dead and my aunt lucky to be alive.
What happened to me might actually have saved my life; wasn't that an odd thought!
Boy-Who-Lived Presumed Dead, by Walter Touchstone
Dear readers, I am saddened to have to tell you about the presumed loss of one of our best and brightest. Harry Potter is presumed dead after having disappeared from a car crash on the way back home from school with his uncle and aunt, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. The muggle police say that the uncle probably lost control over the vehicle and accidentally rammed a lorry, which is a very big muggle car. The lorry crushed half the vehicle's front, which included Vernon Dursley who then died shortly after having his lower half crushed as well. The aunt flew through the windshield (front window) upon impact, hurting her head badly in the process, and somehow survived the landing with only a broken knee and elbow. Sadly, the fall took her short-term memory, leaving us in the dark about what happened in those final moments.
What is known is the fact that Mister Potter was driving with them, but was nowhere to be found after the crash, and no magic was used by his wand either, according to the DMLE reports.
Currently, the leading theory is that Mister Potter was taken away from the site of the accident by persons unknown, and he later died in some unknown manner. Professor Dumbledore confirmed this by saying that life-trackers he had on Mister Potter (with his consent) had fallen silent, and a query to Gringotts has verified the disappearance of Mister Potter's magical signature, which is a sure sign of death.
There are some ways to change your magical signature enough to trick these trackers to give these results without Mister Potter dying, according to the Unspeakables, but they doubt anything of the sort happened to Mister Potter. "Sometimes, the easiest solution is the most likely solution." Was a quote I was allowed to share, and I have to admit to the facts myself. Harry Potter has died, and Britain has lost one of its heroes.
With the recent acknowledgement that Voldemort is not, in fact, dead, Minister Fudge had this to say: "Mister Potter's early warning allowed the Ministry to prepare for the bad times to come, and for that we can only be thankful. Let's hope he rests in peace; he has certainly earned it. The Wizengamot is thinking of awarding him an Order of Merlin first class posthumously, and I find myself agreeing. That boy was worthy of being honoured, and it is the least we can do after the fact."
You read it; Mister Potter is to be honoured after his death for the things he did in life. This reporter agrees wholeheartedly, and the Prophet, as always, will stay on top of the situation to keep our readers informed. Read more about Potter's family on page 3, about the coming war and who will fight it on page 4, and about an interview with Albus Dumbledore on page seven.
I snorted as I read the rest of the paper and ordered another glass of juice when Tom offered. The interview of Albus Dumbledore was especially telling and told me that the war was going to be lost. The man was actually advocating mercy for the Death Eaters caught in the Ministry, who's trials were scheduled for tomorrow.
What the hell was running through his decrepit mind I couldn't follow, and to be honest, I was quite happy with that. "Bonkers old fool."
"What was that, Miss White?" Tom asked curiously.
I waved the interview with Dumbledore's picture at him. "Have you read this? Dumbledore is actually advocating for mercy for the Death Eaters who were caught red-handed trying to murder school children. I don't know what the hell he is thinking, but that doesn't sound good to me. It's like he doesn't care about the children at all, only about the slim possibility that this murdering scum could repent." I snorted. "I could just guess what's going to happen next. You-Know-Who breaks them all out of prison around Yule or something, and they all go right back to murdering, all because Albus Dumbledore doesn't like capital punishment for confirmed terrorists."
Tom had to close his mouth in shock, before he nodded thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
Two other guests nodded in agreement. "Hear, hear! I've always thought that man was touched in the head. Killers need to be thrown through the veil. I've always thought that was the neatest solution, way better than the dementor's kiss, at any rate. Nobody should have their souls sucked out and imprisoned for eternity, not even the worst criminals."
"I agree." I spoke. "But so long as Dumbledore doesn't change his tune and Fudge stays in power, the coming war will be lost inside a year or two. Last time we were losing and only survived by a baby's luck. I rather doubt we'll get as lucky this time around."
I knew one thing for certain, and that was that the prophecy no longer talked about me. One, I was no longer a He, and two, I was no longer marked. My greatly improved sleep agreed with me. That was something I was intensely relieved about, and thinking about that shed burden invariably made me smile a bit. I hated being prophesied to do something, even if I only thought so for about a week.
Nobody was forcing me to do anything anymore, not as Iris. If becoming a woman was the price to pay for that, I would gladly pay it. In fact, I was finding myself happier as a woman than I ever had been as a man, but I was pretty certain that it was mostly my changed circumstances that were to blame for that. In any case, I was keeping my mind open. Because there was no way of changing back, I was hoping to learn to enjoy my new circumstances if at all possible.
"I'm leaving, Tom, here's the money. It was delicious as always, thanks." I settled my bill and made my way over to Ollivanders, who was luckily not dealing with a customer.
"Oh, Iris, good morning. What brings you here, are you already settled?" Garrick greeted her with a smile.
"Morning, Garrick. No, not yet, but I'm rapidly getting there. I just need to fix a few things and schedule my exams over at the Ministry, and then I'll come find you about that job." I smiled.
"Good, good. Anything else that brings you here?" He asked.
I nodded. "I had a thought when I read the paper. How are your defences here, because as the sole legal wand-seller in the country, you'd be a prime target?"
He grinned creepily, which I now recognised as him simply smiling widely. "They are very good, and now that you mention it, I will activate them sometime this week. In fact, I would greatly appreciate a bit of help charging them, which would also serve to key you in at the same time. Your magic is stronger than my own, despite your youth, so it would more than double the initial charge and greatly speed up getting to the required levels of magic to be effective. If you would be willing to charge them occasionally, there would be very little to fear in truth."
"That would not be a problem." I told him honestly. "I just want you safe. You are the only wizard to know the truth about me, and I quite like having someone to share some secrets with."
"Quite alright, young lady." He chuckled. "So, tell me about your home."
"Well, it's quite a beautiful place, and the home is nice and warm now that I have refurbished it. I quite enjoyed sleeping there tonight, and I slept like a baby." I grinned. "It's already more of a home to me than anything ever was before."
"Glad to hear it, Iris." He nodded. "Now I see a customer coming in, so go out there and enjoy the day. I'll see you later."
"Right, goodbye Mister Ollivander." I said because the customer didn't need to know we were on a first name basis.
On a whim, I took a left and decided to get an ice-cream at Ollivanders. Then Susan Bones sat down on the table next to me with Hannah Abbott, and I couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
"If Potter is dead, the school might be in danger. We might not have believed in him all the time, but he was always proven to be a good guy at the end of the year. If Granger and Weasley are to be believed, he fought You-Know-Who twice at school, and then after the Third Task. I mean, who does that! Certainly not the teachers!" Hannah said.
Susan nodded distractedly. "My Aunt says the Minister has another plan in the works regarding the DADA position at Hogwarts this year. I don't know what it is, but it can't be good. Every year something bad has happened with that teacher, and I don't think this year will be different. Umbridge was bad enough. This time, there will be no Harry to deal with it or take the brunt of the bad luck."
Hannah chuckled mirthlessly. "If you told me we'd be saying this last year, I'd have called you crazy, but there's no denying it anymore. Hogwarts is not a safe school."
"It's not a good school either." Susan agreed. "If not for Harry, we would never have gotten E's on our DADA OWL's. I was actually fearing failing that class at the beginning of the year."
"I know what you mean." Hannah said. "I actually feel bad about leaving you to deal with Potions alone this year. Snape really soured me on the subject, and with Binns' teaching, that makes three subjects that are consistently bad, and all of them are core classes. Dumbledore can't honestly think the school is doing well, which only leads me to conclude he doesn't care for some reason."
"True, Aunty has been saying similar things for years. Nobody has the power to make him do anything though, so we're stuck waiting for him to retire."
I tuned the rest of the conversation out, but it was good to know my opinions were shared. The mere fact that Snape was still teaching was all the proof I needed for Dumbledore being untouchable as Headmaster. It was a sad state of affairs when bad leaders couldn't be ousted. Comparing Dumbledore to Fudge was funny until you put it in that light, which made me snort in a dark sort of amusement.
After finishing my chocolate sundae, I used the Cauldron's floo to get to the Ministry.
"Wand please." The man behind the desk droned. I handed it over for him to scan, and when he did, he frowned. "Who are you?"
"Iris White, nice to meet you. If you're wondering about my wand, it's a custom one after my last one stopped working, not that that wand would be known to the Ministry, it was a Family wand, and I never needed to come here before."
That was enough apparently, as he nodded. "I'll put you down as Iris White then. Can I point you in the right direction?"
"You might," I smiled honestly. "I'm trying to find a department that deals with OWL exams, because I think I'm ready."
"Home-schooled then? That explains it, I guess. Hogwarts kids are written down at eleven. Hmm, you'll need the second floor, right hand corridor, and the second door on the left. Have a good day, Miss White."
"Thank you, Sir." I grinned. That was actually one of the most pleasant conversations I'd ever had with a stranger, and I couldn't help but feel happy about how utterly normal it felt.
His directions were spot on, but there was no one waiting behind the desks, which left me to flounder. Perhaps they were having lunch? I'd better ask someone who works here. The room opposite that one was empty, but the one to the right held an elderly witch. "Excuse me, Madam, mind if I ask you something?"
The woman was actually even older than I had suspected, but she smiled warmly. "Sure, dear, what is it?"
"I was hoping to schedule a few OWLs and was directed to the room next to yours. There is, however, nobody there, nor did the room look to be used today. Can you tell me when they should be back?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry dear, they won't be in today. There is a round of testing going on in a different location, and it will take all day and tomorrow too."
I sighed, that was just my luck. However, the woman spoke up again. "If I may offer you an alternative, would you be interested?" I shrugged. "Sure."
"The next round of testing with an open spot won't be until two months later, because the majority of home-schooled students use the summer holidays to take their exams, and you're quite late. I couldn't help but notice, however, that you are a very powerful witch. I mean, your magic is literally filling up the room as we speak. That said, the ICW holds OWL exams too, and while their testing is a bit more rigorous on the practical front for the most part, I suspect that won't bother you much."
No, definitely not, I had always excelled on the practical parts, and tiredness from spellcasting was rare for me. "That part sounds alright, but it does make me wonder. History, for example, is extremely focused on Britain here, wouldn't that be different on the ICW tests?"
She shrugged. "History is a useless course in Britain, yes, which means that failing that course doesn't matter. You could always schedule that one locally at a later date. Also, you should know that ICW certification opens doors everywhere, not just in Britain. They are considered more fairly scored than British OWL's as well, which is a benefit when you start applying for a job."
So far, that sounded pretty nice. "How would I go about scheduling those, Madam?"
She waved her wand and summoned a piece of paper. "Come take a look and fill this in. I'll make sure to submit it and get you sorted. What's your name, anyway?"
The reminder made me blush a bit. "Oh, sorry, I'm Iris White, nice to meet you, Madam."
"Nice to meet you too, dear. I'm Griselda Marchbanks. Now, please tell me what to sign you up for. Don't hesitate to take something you've never seen offered in Britain, you might surprise yourself, and you could always try again."
I looked over the form she had, and my eyes widened. This was so much more than I was used to.
Arithmancy ◻, Defence ◻, Duelling ◻, Languages ◻, Potions ◻, Ancient Runes ◻, Astronomy ◻, Healing ◻, Warding ◻, Wandless Magic ◻, Herbology ◻, Charms ◻, History ◻, Transfiguration ◻, Divination ◻, Care of Magical Creatures ◻, Muggle Studies ◻.
The list went on and on, from Ballroom Dancing to Dark Arts, to Alchemy, and much more, but those were the ones I knew most about.
"Madam, what would be needed to pass Wandless Magic and Duelling?" I asked, because those were the only two courses I felt I had any talent for.
She smiled. "Thought so. Hmm, you'd have to perform at least five spells wandlessly to pass that with an Acceptable, but if you manage twenty, you've got a sure Outstanding. For Duelling, I'd imagine you'd have to know the rules, and beat instructors who will fight you at a predetermined level. That's one I would definitely recommend you take if you like fighting. You do need to know a bit about the standard European duelling rules, but that fits in a single book, so it wouldn't take much to learn beforehand."
I didn't think that would be too hard either, so I nodded. "I'd like to try those two, plus Potions, History, Defence, Astronomy, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Divination, Muggle Studies, and Care."
"Not bad, dearie. I'll sign you up for the tests in a month if you like. It would cost you twenty Galleons per test, and they are to be paid up front when you arrive to take them. The tests themselves are taken in Zurich, for which you will get supplied a portkey here in the Ministry for the minor fee of five Galleons. Do you agree with all that?"
"Yes, please sign me up." I said confidently.
"Right then, expect an owl sometime soon. If you have the five Galleons now, I'll mark your portkey down as paid."
I handed her the Galleons and thanked her, before leaving with a small smile on my face.
This would prove to be interesting, and it gave me three weeks time to learn Duelling etiquette, relearn how to move with my body, and improve on my wandless repertoire some more. With what Ollivander's advice taught me, I should be able to at least score an Exceeds for Wandless Magic, and Duelling has always been one of my strengths.
Back at home, I wrote a letter and sent it off with Hedwig, who chirped happily at being used to ferry mail again. Then I changed into sports bra and form-fitting muggle sports clothes, before running laps around the field. After five minutes, I could already tell my balance was shot to hell, but I had plenty of motivation to relearn the proper movements.
This was a kick in the butt I sorely needed.
Dear Garrick,
I've visited the Ministry to schedule my OWL's, but learned I was too late for the ones here. Griselda Marchbanks - lovely old lady that she is - advised me to take the ICW exams instead. They are in one month's time, and I have elected to try my hand at Duelling and Wandless Magic as well, which means I am going to be very busy until then.
I hope you don't mind, but I really want to do well on those exams, so I'm going to have to temporarily change our agreement. From now on until those exams are done, I propose to work with you one day a week on whatever you want me to, so that I can focus on my studies the rest of the week. This work will be done for free, because I expect I'll be learning just as much under your instruction.
If you agree with my suggestion, please send a letter back with a confirmation and the day I need to present myself at your doorstep. I will be there, and that's a promise.
This new agreement does not mean I'm not available to charge your wards. Whenever you need me, I'll be there. You can just floo-call me to come over at your leisure or send a letter back with Hedwig. I'm sure she'll come at your call. The floo address is the Black Barn.
Sincerely,
Iris White.
-..-
"Of course, I'll come right through." I grinned at Garrick's floating head in the flames. He nodded and vanished.
I took a pinch of floo-powder and tossed it into the fireplace. "Ollivander's shop."
With only minor discomfort, I stepped out of the fire and found myself looking at Garrick. "Welcome, dear, and thank you for coming over promptly."
"I wasn't doing anything important anyway. Alright, tell me how this works."
"I have a wardstone prepared, and we're going to pump it full of magic to kickstart it before putting it back into place. Once should be enough to get them up and running, but I'd like to reinforce it once a week, perhaps after your workday, in order to get them stronger. Pumping magic into a wardstone is easy, you just channel energy through your hand as you press up against a specific power rune. Let me show you."
He did it first, and it really was that easy. I could feel the power building and pouring into the stone. Then it was my turn, and I started pushing my magic, feeling the pulls starting to overpower my input. I stopped pushing and allowed my magic to leave me, until I started feeling queasy.
Ollivander was beaming. "It's so strong already!"
He was right, I could feel it. "Good." Was the full extent of my opinion. "Did you think about my proposal yet?"
"I did indeed. I was hoping you could assist me when I go foraging in the forbidden forest this Saturday. The unicorns there usually grant me a few hairs if I manage to find them, as do the Thestrals when I need it, and there are many other creatures to be found there if you know where to look. The important part, however, are the five wand-wood trees I'll be showing you. At this point in the year, I'm not expecting to find much, but when the seasons change, I'm hoping you could go find some wand-wood on your own, saving me the trip. I was actually planning to show you more of that in different places over the next few weeks and tell you how to find more for yourself. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good." I smiled. I liked nature and creatures well enough to make such an outing fun for me. "To do that however, I'd need to know how to apparate."
He blinked in surprise. "Ah, I forgot how young you were. I'll teach you, if you won't tell the Ministry. It's not hard, and they have no way to track it unless they see you do it in person."
"That would be amazing, Garrick!" I grinned happily. That was a skill I would greatly appreciate knowing.
"Good, then that's settled. Floo here at seven in the morning, I'll be waiting." He said, clearly pleased. "I'm happy to see you so enthusiastic, dear. A job should be fun."
-..-
My boobs were sore, and it was all because I ran without wearing a sports bra, but a regular bra instead. Even with how relatively small my boobs still were, good support seemed to be a real necessity. I needed to be more proactive with my chores in order to not run into this problem again.
A situation like this really made me appreciate the House-Elves of Hogwarts a lot more. "I wonder how Dobby and Winky are doing?"
A pop announced Dobby, who spun around to look at me. "Master Harry Potter Sir? You are not Harry Potter Sir!"
I was not expecting him to pop in, so I was really caught off guard, enough to drop me on my ass. I sat up and gave him a small wave. "Hi Dobby, eh, it's a long story. One I promise to tell you if you swear to keep it secret, alright?"
Dobby looked sceptical, but he nodded. "Dobby swears to keep the Witch's secret, unless she hurts Master Harry Potter Sir."
That made me sigh in relief. "Alright then, here's the deal, buddy." And I started talking.
"-And then the goblin's told me that magically, Harry Potter was dead, but that I was now descended from him as far as magic is concerned, and I could pick my own new name. I'm Iris Lily White now, nice to meet you again, Dobby."
Dobby obviously believed me, and he wasted no time before jumping me to grab me into a hug, one I gladly allowed. "Dobby is so happy Mas- Mistress Iris didn't die!"
"Thanks, Dobby. I'm glad I didn't die too. Mind if I ask a question?" Dobby nodded against my body. "Alright, how did you know how to come when I called? I also mentioned Winky, but she's not here."
Dobby stepped back and fidgeted a bit before looking down. "Dobby bound himself to Harry Potter Sir after he freed me but didn't tell Harry Potter Sir because he liked Dobby being free. That's how Dobby felt the call, Mistress."
That made sense, and I felt a stab at annoyance aimed at Hermione. I could have used Dobby's help a hundred times over the years, but never felt like I could ask him. "Dobby, do you want to work for me?"
He nodded quickly. "Dobby would like that!"
"Good. What about Winky, does she still need a family?"
"Yes, Winky is almost dying now. Does Mistress want Winky too?" I nodded. "Then Dobby goes and gets Winky."
Two minutes later, he was back with what looked like a skeletal elf corpse… She was still breathing though. "Is that Winky? Winky, would you want to work for me? I promise to treat you like you deserve."
"Winky accepts." She croaked weakly, after Dobby squeezed her hand in support.
I could feel the magic latch onto me and drain me a bit, which made me wonder how I never felt that when Dobby bound himself to me. Oh, well, it hardly mattered, perhaps it was just Winky's state that made the drain more noticeable. "Welcome to the family, Winky. Get well soon and make yourself at home."
That was apparently a bit too much, as she started bawling her eyes out. Dobby smiled at me weakly and popped Winky away after promising to take care of her.
I had the feeling that my life would be going a lot smoother in the future, if those elves had anything to say about it.
Saturday came quickly, and I floo'd over to Ollivander's, only to floo right back and allow him through the fire.
"Sorry about that, dear, but I realised your place would be much better suited to apparition practice. I hope you don't mind."
I shrugged. "I thought we needed to visit the forest. If you think teaching me won't disrupt that, I certainly don't mind."
He nodded. "It might, but I don't feel up to taking you side-along for such a distance, so we'll just have to hope you catch on quickly."
After sharing a quick explanation like the Ministry would give, he laughed and said, "and now forget all about that, Iris. You don't need any of that."
I tilted my head in confusion. "What should I do then?"
"Wrap yourself up in your magic and deeply want to be there, while keeping in mind how you want to arrive. That's it, really. Most people have trouble charging the air around themselves enough to safely wrap everything up, but you shouldn't have that problem."
That... I shouldn't be surprised, really. I visualised myself standing opposite me a dozen yards away and willed myself over by pulling my magic around me. To be safe, I visualised a bit of air going with me up to an inch from my skin. With a small pop, my viewpoint changed, and I was where I needed to be. "Huh."
Ollivander chuckled. "Already figured out how to smoothen the ride and change your direction, I'm suitably impressed, dear."
"Please explain. I was just trying to be safe by wrapping an extra inch with my magic, does that smoothen the ride, as you say?" It had actually felt none of the twisting sensation the twins had told me to expect, which I really didn't mind.
He shook his head. "Not precisely, though that does make the chance of splinching smaller, and decreases the popping sound significantly. No, it's because you didn't use a wand like the ministry tells you to do. The wand forces the magic to come out in a straight line, or a cone, rather, and attempting to cover yourself efficiently using that method is nigh on impossible, hence the risk of splinching. There is also always- I guess you could call it a tail of magic behind you that causes you to spin as you apparate, and the spin makes it feel horrible. Doing it wandlessly allows you to cover yourself neatly and negates the spin entirely so long as your cover is symmetrical."
I snorted at that. "And because wandless magic is deemed impossible, nobody ever tries it, which dooms them to endless uncomfortable travel and greatly increased risks of splinching."
"Exactly!" Ollivander agreed. "One last thing you need to know, is that the cover gets shaved off in transit, so longer distance travel requires more wrapping, and thus more or denser magic. That again increases the risks of splinching, so you should always consider the distance when you decide how much power to use or end up in two places at once."
That made sense as well, so I grinned. "Am I ready to apparate to the Forbidden Forest, or do you want me to practise some more?"
"Hmm." He mused. "If you feel comfortable trying it, why not? Meet me at the tree-line outside Hogsmeade, and put more magic in it, the distance is considerable!"
He popped off, leaving me standing there. I knew where he wanted me to apparate, so I used about triple the magic and pushed. This time, the trip took about four seconds, and I could feel the magic shrinking around me, but I still had half left. "Nicely done, dear!" Ollivander shouted from a few dozen yards to my right.
I appeared right in front of him and grinned. "I could feel the magic burning away, and I'm sure I'll get it down more efficiently with practice."
His smile was beaming. "That's amazing, and I don't doubt that for a second, you have a gift for practical magic, Iris, and no doubt about it! Right, let's get moving."
The next few hours were spent in a leisurely walk, because he could only walk so fast. He knew about the Acromantula colony and expertly avoided it, merely smirking when he heard my story about Aragog. The Unicorns were located with the help of the Centaurs, who seemed to respect Ollivander and didn't seem to mind me after I treated them with respect and thanked them.
I learned the location of the five wand-wood worthy trees and Ollivander taught me how to feel for the magic inside them. "You won't even need to go looking for Bowtruckles, those devilishly tricky camouflage artists. So long as you can identify magical trees by feel, which you now can, you'll find them much easier to spot."
That was a handy trick to know, and he was right, I could feel the tree in my periphery, even when I didn't know what I was feeling. I felt the next tree before I even saw it, which made Ollivander preen. "You're going to be an exceptional wandmaker, dear!"
"Now you try, put your hand on the trunk and push your magic in the tree. If we're lucky, a branch will break to reward us."
A loud crack announced my success, after I pushed in about a Patronus worth of magic. It was a significant amount of magic, and I could see why we wandmakers could benefit from being powerful.
"Garrick, Sir, would it be possible to turn a regular tree magical by pushing magic in daily?"
He chuckled and shrugged. "You can certainly try, but I suspect it will take a long time before it takes. Magical trees usually take nourishment from magic all their lives and can therefore often be located on top of ley lines or intersections thereof. If you want to try at home, it might work. That field certainly felt magical enough. On the other hand, the wards may drain the magic out of the air enough to prevent those trees from becoming sufficiently magical."
He was more right than he knew. The wardbook in the Black Barn said there was a ley line below the property, which was why the wards were still as strong as ever even without a magical living in the house. Whether the wards prevented the trees from soaking up the magic was another question, but it didn't matter. "I'm going to try."
"I wish you the best of luck. If it works, you've made my job a lot easier, that's for certain."
"Not sure, there's only two or three types of trees around my home." I disagreed. "But I'll go canvas the neighbourhood for more magical trees. After all, the ley line should extend beyond the wards, shouldn't it? In two directions at least.
-..-
Winky and Dobby had quickly turned my life around, and I was half worried they would turn me lazy. Their eagerness to please turned into a rivalry for jobs to do, and I had to break them up by giving them different work.
Winky was now slowly decorating and furnishing the Black Apartment, while Dobby had taken to cleaning up the other property, Kreacher be damned. His most important directive was to keep my secrets and clean the Dark Magic and filth from Grimmauld place unseen by magicals.
That turned into a fight between Kreacher and Dobby when he executed my order to toss every cursed object in Dumbledore's office. I finally felt it time to intervene when he threatened to steal IT back. Not that I had any idea of what he was talking about, but I hardly cared.
"Kreacher, you listen and listen well! Shut up!" I hissed at him. It was easy to see the confusion he felt at the need to obey a witch he had never seen, but I pressed on. "Dumbledore is going to cleanse every single bit of Dark Magic from the items I had Dobby dump in his office, and you're going to make sure of it! No matter what he asks or says, you will not tell him about me or the fact that I'm your Mistress. Keep my secrets, and make sure he cleanses all of it. Then take it all back and put it in their rightful places back in Grimmauld Place. If need be, tell him that cleansing those items is rent. Do you understand?"
The old elf nodded with a strangely hopeful expression on his face. "Kreacher understands, Mistress?"
"Good. After everything is cleansed and put back, come find me. I'll have new orders for you then and I'll introduce myself properly. In the meantime, Dobby is going to help you put Grimmauld Place back to rights by cleaning the pigsty that it has become, and I don't want you to hinder him. All your other duties remain yours; I expect you to be happy with the help."
"Yes, Mistress." Kreacher said before popping away.
I turned to Dobby, who was beaming. "Sorry, Dobby, for making you deal with him before. It could not have been easy."
"Dobby doesn't mind, Miss." He assured me. "Dobby is very happy with his new job."
"Remember, just cleaning. I don't want you to steal any of Kreacher's other duties."
He nodded and popped off too.
I smiled tiredly and sat down with a grin. Dobby had taken to simply calling me Miss today, and I liked that a whole lot better than Great Mistress Iris, Sir.
My change into a woman had almost been three weeks ago now, and I was finally feeling at home in my body. No longer did I feel surprised at encountering breasts, or did I hesitate before putting on a bra and panties. Those things felt a lot more natural now, and I enjoyed looking nice enough to learn some personal care spells, including haircare charms.
Make-up was still pretty much something I refused to wear, but I also didn't need any. Circles under my eyes were just an indication to sleep more, not to put on a layer of concealer, and I actually heeded those messages from my body now. Sleeping a full eight hours also became the norm instead of the exception, greatly aided by my faithful elves doing my chores.
Yes. I was at home now, in my house and in my body. I was also getting closer to being at home in my life, but that was still a work in progress. My second day with Ollivander had been fun, knowing what I was expected to do and excelling at it kept up my spirits and we talked the whole time, making the time pass fast.
My studies were going well, and I found wandless magic to be easy knowing what Ollivander taught me. I expected to get an easy O on that exam, so long as they accepted the spells of my own choosing. If not, an Exceeds Expectations would be good as well. The other courses got a simple refresher, and I tried out a dozen spells before focusing on theory instead. Magic came easy to me now, as in really easy. I still didn't know for sure what the change was, but between losing my scar and my manhood, my connection to magic had soared!
I was ninety percent sure it was the scar that did the trick, but there was the niggling feeling that becoming female could have something to do with it, or at least the reset of my magic that had accompanied it according to Ollivander.
If only Hermione could see me now, the Hermione in my memories at least. She was a classic feminist, believing that a woman could do everything a man could do, if not better too. I was living proof of that now, though I doubt she would have appreciated my new aptitude with magic. She never did well with being challenged like that.
On that front, I had been reading the Prophet whenever something interesting happened, for which I had Dobby checking the paper every morning. Hermione and Ron had given an interview that was not complimentary at all towards Harry Potter. It was a dumb move, because they were essentially picking on a dead hero, every fool would have expected what happened next. They were lambasted in the media and pelted with hate mail.
It was amusing to me, but not amusing as the other piece of news the paper had brought me. Severus Snape was slowly but surely losing his magic, and the healers were at a loss. Dumbledore had arranged for the best foreign specialists to come in and check him out, and they had found that he had broken a magical vow somehow. That meant there was no treatment to be had, and the paper had gone ballistic over the Squib Professor, as he was called. One columnist wrote that he could still teach the next generation of Potion Masters and was then laughed at by everyone who had ever been taught by the greasy git. I quite enjoyed that little bit of controversiality as well as the fact that he was losing his magic slowly.
Since it was likely a potion that changed me, I briefly considered his squibbing to have to do with me, but discarded that theory when I realised he had to have made a vow for my protection somehow for that to have triggered the loss of magic. Thinking about it like that had me laughing out loud. That would never happen in a million years!
Yes, things were going well, and I was enjoying the peace of my new life.