Dobby's Deceit

by La Morraine

What if Dobby bound himself to Harry without Harry knowing about it? How would that influence the story? [Harry/Hermione]

4. Chapter 4

Wrote hard and put up wet, EAD style, yadda yadda.

I'm looking forward to comments to this chapter, about everything. But keep it friendly, yeah? And if you don't like it, there's the back button.

Have fun!

---

Dobby's Deceit

Part 4

On his birthday, Harry woke to a pair of huge, blue eyes staring at him.

"Wha?" he asked muzzily and groped for the glasses on his bedside table.

"Good morning, Harry Potter sir!" Betty squeaked. "I be bringing breakfast!"

"Er, what? Betty?" Bewildered and hardly awake enough to function, Harry barely flinched when the small female house elf presented him with a bed table full of his favourite breakfast foods. "Thank you, honest. But ... what are you doing here?"

Dobby popped up on the bed with a small vase of garden flowers. "Dobby be taking her along. Betty be having birthday present for Harry Potter sir." He elbowed her in the side.

"Betty not be doing well without a family," Betty began haltingly. "Betty be wanting Harry Potter sir as her new ma-" Dobby elbowed her again, sharply, and she stuttered, "uh, new friend. Betty be knowing that Harry Potter sir be very kind to his friends, and that he be having lots and lots of good work to do. May Betty please become Harry Potter sir's friend?"

"Er ..." Harry glanced at Dobby, who was nodding behind Betty's back. Slowly, his faculties were returning to him and he felt more equal to the situation. "Sure. Friends are always good. But you have to promise not to tell our secrets. Not to anyone. It might be dangerous for you and I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"Betty be a very good elf," she promised. "Betty be keeping all of Harry Potter sir's secrets, just like Dobby!"

Harry smiled at her enthusiasm. "Then I guess you're welcome!"

Eyes shining and grin nearly splitting her little face, Betty took his offered hand and shook it heartily. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter sir!"

Just as it had happened with Dobby, his arm tingled hotly and there was a short sting in his chest. Dobby was doing a little dance, seemingly barely able to contain his excitement, so he guessed that all house elves were like that when they were excited.

"Wow, you're all really strong," Harry joked, gently stretching his fingers. "Really, you're welcome. The whole house is full with cupboards, if you want one for sleeping. But we can also get you a bed, if you prefer. Dobby handles the money, he'll take care of you."

Again, Dobby nodded until his ears flapped, but Betty only blushed shyly and squeaked, "Dobby be having the best cupboard in the kitchen. Betty be wanting to share space for more magic and learning faster."

"Is that alright with you?" Harry asked the other elf.

"Dobby be liking tight spaces very much," Dobby answered with a little stutter and a dull green flush in his cheeks. "Also, Betty not be big. It be perfect fit."

Now Betty also blushed and Harry had to hide his amused grin. "Then that's settled. And thanks again for breakfast and your amazing gift, Betty."

"Harry Potter sir be very welcome," she whispered and popped away.

"She be very happy," Dobby assured Harry when the boy looked concerned. "She be needing to do some work so happiness not be making her sick."

"Oh ... that can happen?"

"When us elves be happy, we be very powerful," Dobby explained. For a second, he tilted his head like a listening dog. "Betty be going to Potter's Field to fight with plants. Maybe she be more successful than Dobby."

"Maybe," Harry grinned. He took a sip of his tea and then started in on breakfast. Betty had gone with traditional English fare which was very welcome right now. Harry was ravenous and inhaled the baked beans, sausages and fried eggs. "She's a good cook," he commented between bites.

"Betty be needing to learn more variety," Dobby said as he floated a bowl of fresh fruit in front of Harry, "but that not be problem. She be young and learn quickly."

"If she's anything like you, she'll be awesome." Harry put his fork down and reached for Dobby's hand. "Thank you for bringing her here. She seems nice and she'll be a great help to you. It's a present for both of us!"

"Dobby be having another birthday present for Harry Potter sir." A little shyly, the elf pulled something tiny from his trouser pocket and placed it in Harry's palm.

It was a small gold pendant, most likely made from half a galleon, and coined with his family seal.

"Wow, thank you!" Harry took a closer look and felt his throat close up a little at the carefully crafted details. "It's lovely."

"It be emergency elf transport for Harry Potter sir," Dobby squeaked. "Dobby not be able to go to Hogwarts with Harry Potter sir, and Dobby and Betty not be liking leaving Harry Potter sir without a way to come home if Old Whiskers be bad wizard."

"I ... wow, I don't know what to say. Except thank you, of course." Harry dropped the pendant and pulled Dobby in for a hug. "It's really great. Thanks for always taking care of me, Dobby."

"Dobby be doing all he can to protect his Harry Potter sir." Flushing again, the elf bounced just once. "And Dobby be doing everything he can to make Harry Potter sir happy. This present be from Miss Mione. Dobby be collecting it last night from France." He presented Harry with a large, brightly wrapped box, a letter, and a birthday card.

"Sneaky," Harry grinned. "Would you mind putting your pendant on the chain with Gringotts' memory charm? That way, I'll always have it with me."

Dobby snapped his fingers and placed the pendant around Harry's neck. "It be best, Harry Potter sir."

"Yeah, you might be right." Harry looked between the letter and the gift and decided to rip into the box first. "Oh, wow! Look at what Hermione's given me!"

He pulled a broom servicing kit from the packaging and showed Dobby a jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of Tall-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass and even a book on do-it-yourself broomcare. "Isn't this fantastic? Now I can take care of my new broom properly."

"Harry Potter sir be having another broom at Hogwarts," Dobby said.

"Nah, Professor McGonagall only loaned it to me for Quidditch, although I'll take care of that, too. Okay, now the card ... uh, is that the French Riviera? Wow, the sea looks so blue!" Harry read Hermione's birthday wishes and had to smile when he saw that her parents had also signed.

The letter was last, and it smelled faintly of sun lotion and warm, salty air.

Dear Harry,

In case you're actually reading the letter first: Happy Birthday! May the next year of your life be peaceful, fun, and full of happiness.

Dobby surprised me when he suddenly showed up a few days ago and asked whether I wanted to send you a letter for your birthday. He even offered to take the present, which was really rather nifty since international owl post is kind of expensive. Hopefully you'll like what my parents and I came up with - it's a compromise between practical and nice.

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to seeing you again. Dobby mentioned that you're just fine, but after the way your horrid relatives treated you I want to make sure. Also, the ice cream will be my treat! Please let me know when it'd be good for you.

I want to tell you all about my holiday in person, so please don't be mad that I'm not writing more right now. Have a really great birthday and give Hedwig a good petting from me.

Love,

Hermione

Next, Dobby handed Harry a present from Ron. There was also a card and note stuck to it and this time Harry read both first.

Hey Harry!

Happy Birthday from me and my family! I got you a sneakoscope so you'll always know if something fishy is going on around you. You should just maybe learn a silencing spell because that thing goes off like crazy when Fred and George are close.

Also, my parents won the lottery in the Daily Prophet! And guess what? We're going to visit my oldest brother Bill in Egypt! I'm so excited, although the twins teased me that my freckles will explode in all that sun. Still, it's awesome and I wish you could come with us, because we'll only return a couple of days before school starts or so. I'll try to find a good souvenir, mate!

See you soon,

Ron

P.S.: Your relatives are the worst. I tried to call your house on the fellytone a few weeks ago, but your uncle was super rude and screamed at me. Hermione later told me that I don't have to shout, but when I tried again, they just hung up on me.

Harry groaned; that probably explained his uncle's impossibly bad mood. He almost felt pity for the man - all that stress couldn't be good for his health and as much as he disliked the Dursleys, he didn't want to be a leading factor in their demise.

"And this present be from a Mr. Hagrid," Dobby said. He dubiously handed the slightly shaking package over. "Owl ward sent it to Gringotts and goblins called Dobby to get it."

"From Hagrid!" Harry cheered. He looked for a note and found it. "He's sending me a book ... The Monster Book Of Monsters. I wonder why."

He ripped the brown paper open - and jerked back when the book sprang forward, the open covers acting like little legs and a toothy maw combined. "Bloody hell! Why is it attacking me?"

Dobby flung the thing from the bed and went between it and Harry. Whimper-snarling, the book decided that it wasn't a match for a determined house elf and scuttled away to hide under Harry's dresser.

"Dobby be putting up ward around dresser," the elf said with a huff. "This Mr. Hagrid not be knowing what be appropriate gift for young wizard!"

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry had to agree, even if it felt a little disloyal to do so. "Now I'm awake."

"Then Harry Potter sir be drinking his potion and spend his day being lazy and pampered." Dobby bounced a little. "Harry Potter sir could have a look at the garden."

"Yeah, sure!" Harry quickly downed his potion and used the bathroom to make himself presentable. "By the way, do you know when Healer Williams will stop by?"

"In the afternoon, after three," Dobby replied. He led Harry to the back door of the cottage and proudly presented his fledgling garden. Just like he'd said, there were a lot of offshoots sticking up from the ground, looking tiny and fragile in the glaring sunlight. "Dobby be planting fruit trees next. And over there Dobby be placing dead tree trunk for mushrooms. And here in the half shade be perfect place for medicine plants."

"And what will you do with the other half of the space?" Harry asked.

"Dobby still be deciding. Dobby be needing to ask Betty if she be needing special plants."

"Oh, good thinking. I have no idea what female house elves need."

"Dobby be getting book on house elves soon," Dobby said. "Dobby not be wanting Harry Potter sir to have too much to do ..."

"But that's over now," Harry finished the thought. "Yeah, good thinking. With two house elves around I should definitely know more. By the way, how do we get Betty out of her icky pillow case?"

oOo

Just like Dobby said, Healer Williams appeared at half past three on the dot on Harry's lawn. He waved cheerfully and wished Harry a very happy birthday before allowing Dobby to seat him at the garden table.

"Thank you for having me over on your special day," the young man beamed. "I brought cake, if you're interested."

"I love cake," Harry said. "What kind is it?"

"Since it's so hot, I went with something light and with lots of strawberries. Hopefully you've not had enough of them already, I know that Dobby likes to give them to you for dessert."

"No, that's great! I'm sure Dobby can get us some whipped cream. Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please." Williams grinned. "Honestly, this is a pretty nice gig so far. I'm getting fed great food and get to sit in a beautiful little garden. Of course I'm not coming empty-handed. Here."

Harry took the wrapped parcel from him and opened it carefully. "The Comprehensive Book on Household Charms And How To Use them! Thank you!"

"You're very welcome, Heir Potter."

Harry huffed. "Oh, could you just call me Harry, please? I feel weird when people call me that."

Williams smiled. "Then you must call me Brady. I chose that book because all the charms in there are easy to learn and, more importantly, easy to cast on yourself. Just promise me that you'll try on inanimate objects first, and have your elf nearby in case something goes wrong."

"Of course, I promise." Harry grinned impishly. "As I said, I'm not stupid. At least not after what happened to Hermione last year."

"Oh? What happened?" Brady asked, instantly curious.

"I'll tell you if you'll keep it secret," Harry challenged. "I don't want us to get into trouble."

The healer made a vow and as they ate their cake, Harry regaled him with the tale of Hermione, the unfortunate polyjuiced kitty girl.

"Wait, she brewed polyjuice potion in her second year? At thirteen? And in an abandoned toilet?" Brady asked, mouth open in surprise.

"Well, yes. She's brilliant! Anyway, she thought that she'd nabbed hair from a Slytherin's cloak, but it turned out that she accidentally collected the hair from that girl's cat. She turned into a hybrid human-cat thing and had to go to Madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, she got back to normal soon, but the bollocking couldn't have been fun. Professor McGonagall was all disappointed in her and docked a hundred points for stupidity."

"Trust, but verify," Brady agreed. "There are spells to check whether the ingredients for your potions are the real thing or counterfeit."

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall taught her that one until she could do it in her sleep. Too bad that Snape doesn't allow her to use her wand in class. She's been a bit skittish in Potions because of that cat incident."

Brady couldn't hide his mirth. "She sounds like a grand young lady! Just think what stories you'll be able to tell your kids one day."

Harry squirmed a little. "Uh."

"So, what else is new?" Brady asked, kindly changing the topic. "Did your friends think of you?"

And off Harry went, telling the healer about his presents and the cards and letters he'd received.

"But our best present is Betty," Harry told him, beaming.

"Betty?" Brady raised his eyebrows. "Who's that?"

The elf in question popped up and looked expectantly first at Harry and then at his guest.

"I be Betty," she said. "May Betty help you, Harry Potter sir?"

"You got yourself a second house elf?" Brady asked, stunned. "When?"

"It's more like she found Dobby and me, and just yesterday," Harry explained. "She lost her family and wanted to stay around, so I told her she could. Dobby will teach her everything he knows and she'll help manage Potter's Field."

"Wow." Brady still looked gobsmacked. "That's quite a gift, Harry!"

"I know." Harry smiled at Betty. "Thanks, we don't need anything right now. Oh, before you go, this is Brady. He's my healer and will be here a couple times a week or so."

Betty stared unblinkingly at the young man for a few moments before saying, "Betty be having eye on Mr. Brady Healer." Then, she popped away.

"No one can make someone feel quite as small as a house elf who doesn't trust you," Brady joked. "She's lovely. Do you know where she comes from?"

"No, I guess I'll ask her about that later. I think she's still sad about losing her family and I don't want to make her talk when she's grieving."

"That's very considerate of you." Brady sipped the last of his coffee and sighed in utter conentment. "What do you say? A little magic first and then I'll show you how to do flips on your trampoline?"

Needless to say, the health scan was the littlest portion of their afternoon, and when Healer Williams left at seven, Harry was pleasantly exhausted both from casting charms and jumping until his legs buckled.

oOo

Healer Williams called again on the next day, his mien somber and his posture stiff.

"I come with worrying news," he said, declining Harry's offer of refreshments with a shake of his head. "Sirius Black, your godfather, managed to escape from Azkaban prison last night and is at large."

Harry's mouth got dry and his eyes bulged a little. "What?"

"No one knows exactly how he did it, but the fact is that he's at large and, if the wardens are to be believed, you're his target."

"What gave them the idea?"

The healer's face became pinched. "Apparently Black mumbled the same thing over and over again in his sleep: he's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwart's ..."

"But I'm not at Hogwarts right now." Bewildered, Harry wrangled down his fear and tried to think clearly. "Why would he break out when he must know that I'm not there? It doesn't make sense."

"He's been in Azkaban for almost twelve years ... it might've driven him mad." Williams gently led Harry to the terrace table and bade him to sit. Himself, he parked against the table. "Besides, there's nobody else at Hogwarts, aside from a couple of teachers maybe, and I doubt that he's after one of them."

"But ..."

"Harry, please, this is important. Gringotts knows that your godfather never received a trial, else the goblins would've known to freeze his accounts. There might be a chance that he's actually innocent of your parents' betrayal and the murders. He also might be guilty ... without trial it's impossible to tell right now."

"What happened to innocent until proven guilty?" Harry demanded. "If he's so rich, why did no one look out for him?"

"It's not my place to speculate. The problem right now is that he's a loose cannon with access to a lot of money. There's no telling what he'll do next. He could try to leave the country, or he could stay and cause a lot of trouble. And that's why the goblins want you to stay hidden until the situation has resolved itself."

"What do you mean, resolved itself?"

Brady sighed and pulled a rolled up poster out of his robe sleeve. Unrolled, it immediately became clear that it was a WANTED poster, one just like in the movies. It showed a maniacally laughing handsome wizard in his early twenties with dark, long hair. Beneath the picture, Harry read: Wanted dead or alive! If seen, contact the Ministry! Do not approach! Danger!

"That's horrible," he whispered and traced the man's face with trembling fingers. "If he's my godfather, why would he want to kill my parents and me? I thought they were best friends?"

"Maybe they were," Williams replied quietly. "But Voldemort was - is! - terrible, and good people were forced or seduced to do terrible things. Black's family was almost completely dark, therefore nobody was really surprised when the Ministry announced his guilt."

"But that's unfair." Harry scowled. "Condemning him because his family wasn't nice."

Williams' sympathetic expression made clear that he knew exactly what Harry meant. "You don't have to condemn him, Harry. All we at Gringotts ask is that you keep safe and let us handle this. Sharptooth explicitly ordered me to tell you that Gringotts won't try to detain Black, should he show up. The whole case is wizard business and they want nothing to do with it. Should he threaten you, however, he'll have made a vicious enemy."

"I understand. I'll be safe, promise." Harry pulled the poster to his chest. "Can I keep this?"

oOo

Half a week had passed without any news about Sirius Black, other than that he was still out and about. Dobby brought Harry the Daily Prophet to keep current, but the newspaper was mostly a disappointment if one was used to large muggle publications.

"I really want to see Hermione," Harry told Dobby as he picked out a T-shirt to wear for the day. "Did she say when she'd be back home?"

"She be home two days now," Dobby informed him and took the rejected shirts back to the wardrobe. "Should Dobby be visiting and asking?"

"I dunno. Meeting in Diagon Alley would be bad, but meeting at my relatives' house would be even worse, right? And I can't bring her here, yet." Dejected, he slumped on the bed and sighed. "What can I do?"

In lieu of an answer, Dobby brought the huge Gringotts Book of Services and flipped it open.

"Another house?" Harry asked doubtfully. "I don't think we can afford one, Dobby ..."

"It just be for renting," the elf explained patiently. "Harry Potter sir could be renting place for a day and meet his Miss Mione there." He grinned. "And maybe Miss Mione's parents, too."

"That's a fine idea!" Harry jumped up and thundered down to the living room, crying, "I'll call Sharptooth!" as he went.

A fistful of Floo powder later, Harry first spoke with his steward and then stepped through to the goblin's office.

"Thank you for meeting me," Harry said, pointing his wand at himself and cleaning up the soot with a small flick. He'd practiced that spell for a couple of days and his successes thrilled him every time. "I'm sorry if it sounded super urgent."

"It's not a problem, youngling. A profit is a profit. Please have a seat. You too, Dobby. Now, I understand you need a safe venue for a day with your friend from school, and possibly her muggle parents?"

"Yes, exactly. I really want to see her. Please say I can rent a flat or something."

"I can do you one better," Sharptooth said, opening a folder and sliding it over his desk towards Harry. "This is a small lake property, pointing westward with a beautiful view. It's very remote, unplottable and fully warded, and it also comes with secure Floo access. However, if you rent a place from Gringotts, your elf will of course be able to come and go as he pleases."

Harry looked at the photos and fell a little in love. "It looks great. How much is it?"

"It doesn't come cheap, but you can certainly afford it. For a full weekend it'll be a hundred galleons, but the bungalow is fully equipped with furniture and bathroom amenities. Food will be provided per your instructions."

"A whole weekend," Harry mused. "Can I get back to you? I have to ask my friend first."

"Write your letter here and have your elf wait for an answer," Sharptooth instructed. "Meanwhile, I'd like to talk with you about your godfather."

"Again? Brady, uh, Healer Williams, already told me that he broke out of Azkaban, and I promised not to go out alone."

"That's not what I wanted to discuss, but it's good to know that you're taking his warning seriously. Please write your note."

The goblin waited until Harry had actually scribbled a short letter and sent Dobby to deliver it before he picked up the conversation again.

"Now we may talk. As there is no easy way to deliver the news, I'll just come right out and tell you: your godfather entered Gringotts exactly two days after his outbreak and swore on his life and magic that he neither betrayed your parents to Voldemort, nor killed the twelve muggles, or attempted to kill a man named Peter Pettigrew."

"So he's innocent!" Harry cried. "Where is he? Why isn't the newspaper writing about it?"

"It's not that easy," Sharptooth said gravelly. "In the eyes of the goblins, he's definitely innocent and may use his funds as he pleases. However, in the wizarding world there's still a manhunt going on and it won't stop until the Ministry learns of his vow to us."

"What's the problem?" Harry demanded. "He's innocent! They should leave him alone!"

"They should, indeed. Unfortunately, this is a deeply political issue and Gringotts doesn't believe that Sirius Black's status will change soon, if at all."

"Incredible," Harry muttered darkly and crossed his arms in front of him.

"Yes, quite. To even the odds for your godfather a little, Gringotts encouraged him to take up the lordship for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, as the old lord, Arcturus, died while Sirius was in prison. Being head of his magical house and having the family magic on his side will be a huge boon and make the members of the Wizengamot think twice before they try to incarcerate him again."

"Where is he now?" Harry asked. "Can I help him somehow?"

"You can, in fact, but more about that in a moment. First, it is my duty and my pleasure to inform you that Lord Black officially named you his heir, both in blood and in magic, within minutes of claiming his lordship. You're now the heir to two magical houses."

"What." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He doesn't even know me ... and I don't know what that even means."

"He knew you as a babe and apparently loved you beyond reason. He knows what a burden he's placed on your shoulders, but he's more than willing to support you in any way he can. You won't ever want for teachers or money."

"I don't need money," Harry said angrily. "He's family! I need to know ..." His voice broke and his eyes stung a little. "I need to know that not all of my family is like the Dursleys."

"He would love to meet you, but he's not healthy ... not physically, and even more so mentally," Sharptooth said quietly. "For now, he asks for your patience and the use of your trunk at the Dursleys. If you agree, Gringotts will continue to charge one galleon a week to your account. The warders will restrict the Floo to the healers' offices, and maybe to your cottage, once you're back in school. The property would be perfect for his recuperation and your elves could keep an eye on him."

"Yes, of course," Harry agreed immediately. "Whatever he needs."

"You're very eager to help him ... do you feel magically encouraged?"

"I don't think so. It's just unfair how he's been treated, and Azkaban must be the most horrid place on earth. Hagrid had to go there during second year because Minister Fudge needed someone to put away." Harry scowled fiercely. "It was just for show, too. I'm still angry about it."

"You should probably talk to Healer Williams about this. In the meantime, I have a small token of Lord Black's affection for you." Sharptooth took a crystal from a drawer and carefully handed it to Harry. "He embedded his magical signature in this crystal so you could know him at least through his magic."

Immediately reaching for the wisp of magic, Harry said a little wistfully, "He feels nice. I hope he'll be better soon."

"We hope so, too. Now that this matter has been cleared up, there is actually one other thing I need to talk to you about: the money you gifted the victims of the basilisk attacks."

"Oh." Distracted, Harry rubbed the crystal. "What about it? Was someone angry?"

"On the contrary. All your fellow students were very grateful and willingly made the vow to keep it secret, and the muggle parents also promised not to talk about it. No, the students were not causing a small riot in the bank."

"Then who was? Mr. Filch?"

Sharptooth snorted. "That man was so damn happy about the money that he praised you to the heavens, youngling. I'm talking about Sir Nicholas the Mimsy-Porpington ... and the phoenix, Fawkes."

"What? What happened?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, Sir Nicholas indeed decided to gift the money to his descendants who were properly surprised, of course, but also very grateful. Young families always are when they receive an unexpected windfall."

"I'm glad," Harry said softly. "But what was the problem there?"

"Apparently Dumbledore felt cheated out of the portion and tried to insist that Sir Nicholas didn't have the standing to actually receive goods, monetary or otherwise, being dead for several centuries and whatnot. Gringotts taught him differently, but he didn't like it. Not at all, and it got even worse."

"Uh, because of Fawkes?" Harry guessed. "What did he do?"

Smirking, Sharptooth shuffled his papers and plucked one out of the stack. "See for yourself."

More and more bewildered, Harry stared at the return notice, signed with a print of the phoenix's large foot. "He gave the money back? Why?"

"Look closer, youngling."

At the bottom of the note, Harry discovered a small line of text. It didn't look like any handwriting he knew, and the precise letters were faintly glittering with magic.

"Reason for return: No need for money, want to visit." Harry blinked. "He wants to visit? Me?"

"Apparently, yes. You are the owner of a rather magical piece of land now. Not much is known about phoenixes; it might be the perfect holiday spot for him." Sharptooth gently laid out a roll of parchment. "Magic formed a contract on Fawkes' behalf. You only need to sign to make everything legal."

"But he can visit whenever he likes," Harry protested. "He can keep the money!"

"He doesn't want it, he's made that perfectly clear," Sharptooth said. "He wishes to visit your properties, especially Potter's Field. To him, that is thanks enough."

Harry frown deepened. "I feel like a thief."

"But it'll make him happy," Sharptooth countered. "Maybe your elves are not the only beings in need of a quiet hiding place."

"I guess he does have quite a bit of excitement, living in a school and stuff..." Harry frowned. "I'll have to tell Dobby to find out what a phoenix even eats. If he stays longer, I don't want him to have to leave everytime he gets hungry."

"That's a plan," Sharptooth said approvingly. "Please sign here, and again here. The galleons will be transferred back to your basilisk account immediately."

"It's the Elf Fund now," Harry replied absently as he signed his name. "I more or less gave it to Dobby so he can buy all the things he needs to get Potter's Field in shape." He glanced up and grinned at Sharptooth. "Yesterday he told me that he wants to buy chickens! Isn't that cool?"

Sharptooth showed his teeth as he sort of grinned back. "Will your second elf have access also?"

"I don't think so. She's only been with us for a few days and since Dobby is the boss and he didn't say anything ..." Harry shrugged. "I've just started reading his book on house elves and don't want to insult him or anything."

"Most of the time, house elves sort themselves out," Sharptooth agreed. "They all have the basic skills, but just like humans, their interests and talents set them apart. One might be able to cook in a pinch, but their true place would be in the garden, or with the animals, or even by their master's side in a profession. House elves are versatile and creative creatures."

"They're the most magical thing I've seen so far," Harry admitted. "They can do almost anything!"

"That they can," Sharptooth agreed. "And for their friends, they'll move mountains."

Just then, Dobby popped back into the office. He looked shaken and simply stared at Harry in mute horror.

"Dobby?" Harry carefully touched the elf's shoulder.

"Oh, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby suddenly wailed. "How can Harry Potter sir be so kind when his family be so very bad!"

"Merlin's pants, what happened?" Harry asked, alarmed. "I thought you went to see Hermione?"

"Dobby was!" Howling, Dobby pulled at his ears. "But Miss Mione and her parents be trying to surprise Harry Potter sir at mean Dursley house, and bad, mad uncle got out old shotgun and screamed at them like he be a lunatic."

"Oh no," Harry whispered, horrified. "What happened then?"

"Miss Mione's parents be calling for help and neighbours be calling the police. When nobody be looking, I be popping them away." Dobby wrung his hands nervously. "I not be knowing where to go so I took them to Gringotts. Dobby be sorry, but Dobby be afraid for their lives. Bad muggle be really, really dangerous."

"It's quite alright, Dobby, that was some quick thinking on your part," Sharptooth said. "I'll arrange for their escort here. With your permission, Heir Potter, we should spin this meeting towards the basilisk fund, since the Grangers will propably have something to say about that. If it deflects from your relatives, even better. Whatever else comes up, we'll deal with then."

Harry nodded his assent, although this really, really wasn't how he'd imagined meeting Hermione again. And it was only half eleven in the morning, too! Sometimes just getting out of bed seemed to be a prelude to some drama or adventure.

Barely five minutes later, the door to Sharptooth's office opened and a little tornado with very tanned skin and bushy hair rushed through and clamped her arms around Harry in a tight grip.

"Harry!" Hermione wailed as she squeezed him with a lot more strength than any girl should reasonably possess. "I was so afraid when your uncle pointed a shotgun at us! Who even does that?" Over her shoulder, she shrilly cried, "I told you that his relatives were the worst!"

"'ermione," Harry gasped. "'mione! Can't ... breathe!"

"Oh! Oh, I'm so, so sorry," she cried, releasing him but promptly beginning to pat him down as she looked for bullet holes. "He didn't shoot you, right?"

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said and impulsively hugged her again. "I'm really fine and I'm sorry Uncle Vernon gave you such a scare."

"Well, it wasn't exactly because of the shotgun," Dan Granger offered dryly. He and his wife were just as tanned as Hermione, and looked very much like returned travellers. "That had a knot in the barrel. But he swung it around like a club and really could have hurt someone with it."

Emma Granger was still a little shaky. "He was like a charging bull ... even frothing at the mouth a little." Her wet eyes sized Harry up. "I don't know how people can leave you there! We should call social services immediately."

"No, please, Mrs. Granger, everything is fine now," Harry said into Hermione's abundant curls. She hung on tightly and he found that he didn't mind holding her a little longer. Her smell was fresh and clean and just a little sweet. "Has Hermione told you about Dobby?" When they replied that she had, Harry explained, "He's been protecting me from the Dursleys. They couldn't do anything to me this summer and I've been really well."

"But is that enough?" Mrs. Granger asked. She wiped at her smudged make-up. "We're not your parents, obviously, but I can't imagine our Hermione living like that. It's torture. If we can help, we will."

"I've been really lucky," Harry assured her. "Dobby's been looking after me, and Gringotts has been a great help, too. But thank you, I appreciate it."

Hearing that, Hermione gasped and stepped back. Her hands settled on Harry's shoulders and she gave him a little shake. "Gringotts! Gosh, Harry! How could you? Ten thousand galleons! That's crazy, you can't do that!"

"I can and I have, no take backs," Harry grinned, only too ready to drop the subject of his family. "Just think about all the books you can buy later!"

"I don't need the money," Hermione insisted, shaking him again. "I was happy to help, and I wasn't petrified that long."

"I want you to have it, and without you, Voldemort would have killed Ginny and resurrected himself." Harry shook off her grip and grabbed her hands so she couldn't start again. "You deserve much more, honestly, and I might tell my account manager to draft another transfer order if you keep refusing."

"Wha ..." Hermione gaped at him like a beached fish. "Harry James Potter!"

"So that is his full name?" Dan Granger chuckled. "She's got that from you, dear."

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow. "Keep it up, Daniel Marcus, and you'll walk home."

"Honestly, Hermione, I sold the basilisk for much more and you really, really need to accept this because I don't want my best friend going home with nothing when she almost died trying to help me."

"I'm your best friend?" she whispered, her fingers clenching in Harry's. "Really?"

"I thought you weren't stupid," Harry teased her. "Accept the money, please. You'll only get it when you're of age, anyway, so it's not like I did you a huge favour."

Again she was stunned, and her parents snorted with laughter.

"He's got you there, princess," Mr. Granger smirked. "You'll still have to manage your pocket money for a couple more years to expand your library."

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears and she flung herself at Harry for the second time. "Alright," she whispered. "I'll not give it back. But I'm not your friend because you gave me money!"

"Great," Harry said sincerely and returned her hug happily.

"By the way, Harry, since you're here now: us Grangers wanted to take you out for your birthday, if you'd like. Hermione insisted on doing something fun and eating ice cream," Mr. Granger said when the teens had finally separated. "How about it? Are you free today?"

Harry shared a glance with Sharptooth and nodded at the goblin to field this question.

"Heir Potter has informed me of your daughter's intention to spend some time with him. As you know, he's in an unenviable position and can't go out like other wizards his age. We were just talking about that very thing, in fact, when Mr. Potter's elf found you."

"Do you have an idea?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I do." Harry accepted the book and showed the Grangers the bungalow he and Sharptooth had been discussing. "We could to that for the weekend! And Dobby could go get ice cream from Fortesque's easily." He smiled hopefully. "It could be my birthday party, and your parents can come, of course."

Hermione's eyes misted over and she looked beseechingly at her parents. "Can we do that, please? Please, please, please?"

Mr. and Mrs. Granger read the information on the bungalow, exchanged a glance, and then Mrs. Granger asked, "Is that really secure enough for Harry? I'd hate for him to get hurt. Also, can we really go there tomorrow already? Isn't that a little too late for preparations?"

"It's very safe," Sharptooth replied. "Rental agreements can be made confidentally as long as the lessee isn't a wanted criminal. As Mr. Potter isn't a wanted criminal, no one will even know that he rented the property. And yes, the property will be ready for your visit any time after eight in the morning. In fact, I'd recommend arriving there early, as the light will be quite beautiful."

"Well ..." Mr. Granger looked at his wife and received a nod. "Then we thank you very much for the invitation, young man!"

Hermione squealed excitedly and bounced a little, much like Dobby when he was happy. As her girly bits had developed a bit since Harry had seen her last, he first stared and then hastily looked away with flushed cheeks.

Soon after, the Grangers were ready to go home. While Hermione and her mother were talking to Sharptooth about something, Mr. Granger took Harry aside.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, lad, but would you mind letting me pay half of the rent for this weekend?" he murmured. "It's not about you not being able to afford it, it's about me making sure that my girls are safe. And also because it's your birthday and we wanted to treat you, and now you're the one treating us."

Harry looked at his shoes. "It's really not necessary, Mr. Granger. I'm happy to pay and make sure Hermione is safe. I'm really sorry she's been in so much danger because of me."

"None of that Mister stuff," Dan said mock-sternly. "Call me Dan, and my wife Emma, if you please. You're a good lad and her best friend. Please let me do this for you both. Money is not an issue in my family and I'm more than happy to do my part."

Realizing that Dan wouldn't give up, Harry accepted the offer graciously, if a little shyly, and they went to Sharptooth to finalize the deal.

"Dobby will pick you up at eight," Harry told them once everything was signed. Hermione's beaming smile made him feel very grown up. "See you then!"

"Bye, Harry!" Hermione waved and then left the office with her parents.

Back home himself, Harry stared at his trampoline and felt guilty for wanting to take the thing to the bungalow just so he could see Hermione jump some more.

oOo

He told Dobby to pack the trampoline.

And the broom, and the bike, but it felt shallow and dishonest.

"Harry Potter sir be growing," Dobby told him in utter unconcern. "And Miss Mione be handsome female ... for a human."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry groaned as he paced on his lawn. "I feel like a pervert. I should leave it here."

"You be loving that trampoline," Dobby tutted. "Dobby be taking it, no discussion. Will Harry Potter sir be good going with Betty?"

The small elf's blue eyes shone with excitement. "Betty be knowing where to go!"

"Dobby be meeting you there!" And the elf was gone, leaving Harry alone with his misery.

"Harry Potter sir just be good boy," Betty advised him. "Looking at Miss Mione be alright, for more he be needing permission."

"I know that," Harry muttered. "It's just ... she went away and came back all ... pretty! Like, seriously! I mean, I still like her and she's my best friend but I'm an idiot and I'll mess it up. Gah!"

Betty giggled. "All men do, you not be anything special, Harry Potter sir. You be ready to meet your guests?"

Sighing, Harry took her tiny hand. "Yeah, let's go."

She took him to the deck of the bungalow where the Grangers were already admiring the view over the lake, and popped away immediately to take care of breakfast.

"Harry, good morning!" Hermione came up to him. "This place is wonderful! And did you see? There's a trampoline!"

Harry flushed. Thankfully, her father rescued him by saying, "There's also a broom, do you think you might take me up for a ride? Hermione isn't much of a flyer and I've always wanted to see how it is."

"Sure! Right now?"

"Dan," Emma protested.

"Just a small tour over the lake," Dan promised. "You'll make it good, right, Harry?"

Despite not knowing Hermione's parents well at all, Harry had a lot of fun with Dan as his passenger. After a few easy laps around the property, he gradually went higher and faster until they were zooming around at a good speed.

"Do you want to do a dive?" Harry asked.

"'course I do!" Dan shouted. "I love rollercoasters!"

It took almost fifteen minutes for the thrill to wear off and even then Harry had to promise that they'd do this again before the weekend was over.

"It's time for breakfast now, you crazy person," Emma said and sent her windblown husband off to wash his hands.

Harry followed sheepishly, but he'd honestly had too much fun to feel very chastised.

Breakfast was a drawn out affair and the Grangers made sure to tell Harry everything about their almost month-long vacation in France. He especially loved the stories about the beach and the little towns they'd visited in the country, and loved the photos of the same even more, but the drawn out descriptions about all the delicious food was also feeding his wanderlust.

"Hermione ate like a horse and never gained an ounce," Emma scowled playfully, "while I had to watch every bite of mousse au chocolat and croissant. She looks like a stick insect next to me!"

Harry looked at the picture, where Hermione was brightly smiling back at him, her arm around her mother's waist and looking more alive and carefree than Harry had ever seen her. "You look both very nice," Harry said honestly. "I don't think the croissants did any harm."

"Thank you dear," Emma replied with a smile. "And thank you for this wonderful breakfast! Your elf is a fantastic cook!"

Later, as her parents paddled out onto the lake in a small boat, Hermione went for a turn on the trampoline. And while Harry was indeed doing a bit of looking, it soon became more important to show her how to jump especially high, and of course how to do perfect flips. Not a fan of flying, Hermione nonetheless showed a surprising aptitude for this particular sport and had even more stamina than Harry.

"I wish we had space in the garden for one of those," she said breathlessly. Carefully, she climbed down and gratefully collapsed on the picnic blanket Betty hat laid out under a tree. "It's so great. My legs are burning all over."

Without thinking, Harry took his wand from the blanket and muttered a simply healing charm at Hermione's sore legs. "Better?"

"Yes, but Harry! You just used magic! Won't you get in trouble?" Worried, Hermione looked up into the sky as if she expected an owl to swoop down at any moment.

"Don't worry, this property is unplottable. The ministry won't know. If you've got your wand on you, you can do magic, too." Harry put his wand back down and reached into the basket. "Are you hungry? Dobby made tortilla with extra veggies and sausage."

Together, they demolished almost the whole pie and washed it down with Dobby's lemonade. Hermione's parents joined them then and they spent another hour together just snacking, resting, and talking. After, Hermione taught Harry how to row the boat and Dan coaxed Emma onto the trampoline.

When tea time approached, Dan demonstratively handed Dobby a few galleons and told him to get everyone their favourite sundaes. Hermione's was relatively small, only three scoops, but it came with a mountain of whipped cream, fresh fruit and apple sauce. Dan and Emma each had chosen the craziest flavours and Harry was very happy with his fruit flavours, chocolate sauce and fresh fruit.

"I swear, Fortesque's is my favourite shop on Diagon Alley," Dan moaned. "This is so good."

"And I'll definitely gain a couple of pounds this weekend," Emma laughed, "but it is absolutely worth it."

In the evening, they played a board game and talked about books. Dinner came and went, and afterwards Dan urged Harry to start the music box with his magic.

"It's even got normal music in it. How about a dance, Emma? What about you, Hermione?"

Emma was all for it and snuggled into her husband, but Hermione was suddenly shy and could hardly look at Harry.

"I don't know how to dance, really, but if you want, we can try," Harry offered bravely. "Dobby and Betty really went all out to decorate the deck."

"With fairy lights," Hermione smiled. "It's beautiful." She took Harry's offered hand and helped him into the right position for a slow sway. "I first learned in primary school, but I didn't like it very much," she confessed. "Later, my parents sent me to dancing lessons and that was pretty neat."

"You definitely know what you're doing," Harry said. "Thanks. And sorry for stepping on your toes, when it happens."

Hermione giggled leaned just a bit closer. "It hasn't happened yet. Don't worry, just enjoy the music."

The song ended and another began, this one a bit more lively. Hermione showed Harry the steps and encouraged him to hold her around the waist. It was awkward at first, but since her parents weren't even looking, Harry soon relaxed and gained a little confidence. At the end of the evening, when a calm, sweet number played and they seemed to be all alone in the world among the fairy lights and beside the dark, still lake, Harry dared touching his cheek to Hermione's and closed his eyes for a moment.

"This day has been fantastic," he murmured. "Thanks for coming to see me."

"There's nothing I'd rather do," she whispered back. "And we still have tomorrow."

"It's kind of strange, not having Ron here," Harry admitted, "but I like this, too."

"Where is he, anyway?" she asked after a short pause.

Harry told her about the lottery and the trip to Egypt. "I thought he'd have told you," he finished, "but it seems they were leaving as soon as they knew about the win. Maybe he simply didn't have time. Ron's handwriting was rather bad."

"Don't remind me of all the homework he tried to finish between classes," Hermione groaned. "It's a wonder the professors were able to read any of it."

"Speaking of which, have you received your letter already?" Harry asked. "Dobby wants to go buy the books. He loves shopping."

She put her head on his shoulder and yawned. "No, not yet, but they should be out soon."

The song ended and the two separated reluctantly.

"You're so ready for bed," Emma laughed and ran a hand over her daughter's hair. "Come, you know you'll be grouchy if you go to sleep too late, honey."

"Are you coming, Harry?" Hermione asked and yawned again.

"Sure." Harry grinned. "By the way, if any of you want to skip the bathroom routine tonight, we can ask Dobby if he'll help you out."

Dobby popped up eagerly. "Dobby will!" Before any of the Grangers could say something, the elf had snapped his fingers and cleaned all of them up, including the teeth. "Dobby be wishing good night!"

Harry laughed about the flabbergasted faces of Hermione's parents. "Yes, he's awesome."

In just a few minutes, everyone was settled and the first day of Harry's impromptu birthday weekend was over.

oOo

Even though it had been a late night, Harry awoke early and flew his broom lazily over the dawn-kissed lake, enjoying the quiet, the cool air, and the gentle sunshine. Hermione stepped onto the deck a little later, so he went down and invited her for a couple more rounds. She accepted readily enough and hugged him tightly from behind.

"I'm a little afraid of heights," she admitted. "But flying like this is alright."

To make one of her rare broom flights as memorable as possible, Harry went very slowly and let their naked toes run through the cool water, disturbing its calm only minimally. Beneath the clear surface, they could see fish and something that looked a lot like fairies with fins flitting about. Early birds' song was the only sound and the morning was still quiet and serene when Harry touched down on the deck and let Hermione dismount. In the misty, golden light she looked especially pretty, which was hard for Harry to process.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "That was nice."

"Uhm, you're welcome," Harry stuttered. "Er, tea?"

Her eyes were laughing at him, but she kindly nodded and together they went the few steps to the table and asked Betty for a pot of tea.

To Harry's regret, the mist evaporated soon after and the spell of the morning vanished with it. Hermione's parents joined them for breakfast, both of them intent on using the lake for swimming later.

"You'll join us, right?" Dan asked, shoving a piece of breakfast roll into his mouth. "A water fight is boring with just one opponent. Us against the girls, how about it, Harry?"

"Er, I'd love to ... but ..." Harry flushed. "I-I don't know how to swim. Sorry."

"Well! Then we'll just have to stay in the shallows!" Dan clapped his hands. "A water fight is a water fight!"

"Or Dobby could put a spell on you to help with that," Hermione said, practical as ever. "If he can do that, that is."

Dobby popped up, ears quivering eagerly. "Dobby can!" he announced.

Harry's flush crept from his cheeks to his neck and chest. "Er, okay."

"There probably isn't enough time to teach you this summer, but if we can make it happen at Hogwarts, I could show you," Hermione offered. "We live on a big island; everybody should know how to swim."

"Manager Sharptooth be calling Dobby. Dobby be right back," the elf squeaked and vanished. A minute later he was back, proffering two letters to the teenagers. "This be arriving yesterday. Mail wards be redirecting Hogwarts owls to Gringotts."

Hermione took hers and opened it swiftly. "Oh! They could arrange it! And Divination is off my schedule. Good!"

Her parents congratulated her, but also urged her to take the warnings seriously and not do anything stupid.

Confused, Harry decided to ignore this, and the utter lack of details, in favour of opening his own letter. Eagerly, he read the pertinent parts, only to feel something cold spread in his stomach when he saw his unaltered list of electives. "Divination is still on mine," he told the others with a frown. "And Runes and Arithmancy are missing."

"But you sent Professor McGonagall a letter!" Hermione exclaimed. "That doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't. I sent the letter with Hedwig so I know it has arrived."

"Well, send it again," she encouraged him. "And if Hedwig somehow can't do it, have it delivered by Dobby. He can put it right into Professor McGonagall's hands."

"Good idea." Harry asked Dobby for writing things and penned a quick note. "Thanks for visiting Hogwarts for me, Dobby."

"It be just a small pop for Dobby," the elf replied, took the letter, and vanished.

When he didn't return, Harry felt his trepidation rise. "The professor is keeping him there," he said dully. "That can't be good."

"Maybe she just wants to send you your new lesson plan immediately," Emma tried to calm him. "What reason could she have not to make the change?"

"I dunno. But I know my rotten luck." Harry put his letter down, shoulders slumping a little.

"Well, as Mom said, there isn't a single good reason not to make the change," Hermione said in her best know-it-all voice. "It'll get cleared up, you'll see."

They tried to enjoy the rest of their breakfast, but Harry's worry had the adults on edge and Hermione was racking her brain for ways to cheer him up, especially since his permission slip for Hogsmeade visits would never be signed by the Dursleys, nevermind the headmaster as his magical guardian. If Dumbledore had been of a mind to allow it, the form would've already been signed, and the Grangers were forced to admit that he was probably right.

Betty handled the dishes and laid out their swim wear. When asked how Dobby was faring, her ears twitched and she only said, "He still be hiding and waiting on answer. He be back tonight if Professor Kitty not have letter earlier."

"Alright," Harry sighed. "Thank you."

Betty beamed and popped away to arrange for lemonade and snacks while they readied themselves for their water fight.

Luckily, the good weather and even better company lightened Harry's mood considerably and with Dobby's charm against drowning they had an epic fight from which all of them emerged not as victors, but happy and exhausted survivors.

As they wouldn't be staying another night, Dan fought Betty for the privilege of manning the grill. He cooked burgers and sausages while Betty took care of the salad side of things. Harry was strictly banned from helping; Betty had been near tears when he'd offered to cut the onions.

"She's a dear," Hermione said, smiling. "Funny how she just showed up, isn't it? How did that happen?"

"She said she noticed Dobby helping me out," he replied, feeling a little guilty for not telling her the whole story. "And since she lost her family, she asked whether she could stay as well."

"Do you have room for her and Dobby at the Dursleys?"

"Sure. They share a cupboard." Harry told her everything about house elves Dobby had taught him so far and even mentioned the little book his friend had brought him. "I've got a lot to learn, but as long as they're happy, everything's alright. He said you can read the book, too."

"Truly?" Hermione bounced in her chair. "I can't wait!"

"You'll have to, I'm only on page thirty," Harry teased her. "It's only three more weeks, you can do it."

"You're a horrible boy, Harry James," Hermione pouted. "Do you think we might meet again before school starts?"

"I hope so." Harry accepted the first plate of meat from Dan and set it in the middle of the table. "I'll ask Gringotts, that'll be safest."

"But you'll come to Diagon Alley?"

"I guess so, if the Weasleys take me."

Hermione huffed. "Why the Weasleys? Harry, you can go with us if you like. It's not a big deal, and I honestly don't think anyone's going to fire a curse at you there. Too many witnesses."

"Geez, thanks, Mione." Harry rolled his eyes.

Laughing, Dan sat down next to him. "But it's true. Your Professor McGonagall explained to us how Diagon Alley is secured. Apparently the goblins have a vested interest in not having murdering and thieving people running around there willy-nilly."

"If you'll have me, I'd love to go shopping with you," Harry admitted.

"You could also come and visit Hermione at home," Emma added. "Crawley is just a muggle neighbourhood, but there's something to be said for anonymity. She told us that she wants to take you to her favourite bistro, so why not do that then?"

"That's two of the three weeks dealt with," Hermione said and offered the salad bowl. "Salad?"

A little steamrolled, but in a good way, Harry agreed to both and decided to leave the planning to the Grangers. It became clear where Hermione got her organizing skills from, because Emma was the one to get up and get her little pocket planner. While they ate, all the Saturdays were booked and Harry was informed when to appear where.

Dan smiled at him in silent commiseration and offered Harry another piece of grilled watermelon.

As if to mark the end of their weekend, the sky became cloudy and took on a distinct yellowish hue.

"There be storm coming," Betty squeaked. "You all be better going inside and leave clean-up to Betty."

"But-"

"She'll handle it," Harry said and gently steered Emma towards the door. "There are a couple games inside if you want to play."

"Nah, I like watching storms," Dan answered. "Besides, I'm way too full to curb my lovely wife's ambition at rummi."

"She's absolutely cutthroat," Hermione added.

They settled direktly by the front window and watched as the sky darkened further and further and the wind picked up. The trees began to sway ominously and then, with a loud rumble, the first clap of thunder sounded. Hermione shrieked a little and then giggled when her mother ruffled her lion's mane. Within minutes, the rain followed and hid everything behind a curtain of water.

To their great regret, the rain didn't let up until it was time to go home, but Harry enjoyed Hermione's hug just as much as if she'd given it out on the deck.

"I'm so looking forward to next week," she said and squeezed him even tighter.

"Me, too," Emma said dryly, "because you'll have to tidy up your room!"

Blushing, Hermione stepped away so her parents could say their goodbyes, and soon after, Betty first took the Grangers home and then popped Harry back to the cottage, where he rambled around on the lawn until it was time for bed.

oOo

Dobby surprised Harry with breakfast but didn't have a letter for him.

"I be spying on Professor Kitty and Old Whiskers. They be arguing about Harry Potter sir's school lessons. Professor Kitty be angry about Old Whiskers cancelling her changes. Dobby be sorry, but Headmaster Dumblydoor not be allowing Harry Potter sir to go to new classes. Harry Potter sir must take Divination class. He be saying he be knowing best as Harry Potter sir's guardian."

A hot rage burned through Harry and stole his breath for a second. Then, he calmed down. "Dumbledore will not allow me to choose my electives, will he?" he asked. "Well, we'll see about that."

Dobby cocked his head curiously. "May Dobby know what Harry Potter sir be planning?"

"Oh, you'll be involved, if you like," Harry promised. "First, I'll find out which books Hermione will need for her classes and you can buy them for me."

"Dobby will!" The elf squeaked.

"Then, I'll find out how to hide the books and ask Hermione to tutor me. Maybe I can do the tests elsewhere; I don't have to take them at Hogwarts. Hogwarts, A History says so. But if I'm too bad at it, I don't have to, which is sort of good."

"Dobby be liking this plan," Dobby said excitedly. "Dobby be looking forward to helping Harry Potter sir!"

"Thanks, Dobby." Harry took the cup of tea and sipped gratefully. "I'm angry, but since that's not gonna help me any, I'll do the next best thing and do Arithmancy and Runes anyway." They both grinned. "I hope Hermione's not gonna flip, though."

"She be understanding," Dobby replied with conviction. "And Harry Potter sir now also has Lord Black. He be great prankster in his youth, he may have ideas."

That sounded promising, and like a good conversation starter if nothing else. "Do you think I could write him a letter?"

"Steward Sharptooth not be saying anything about it, but Dobby be asking!"

"I could ask Brady and he could talk with his colleagues, I guess." Harry put the tea cup down and used his fork to snag a piece of grilled tomato. "Do we have to do anything today?"

"Dobby be working on elf garden and Betty be managing the house," Dobby told him. "Dobby now know what food and herbs Betty be needing." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "She be needing special herbs because she be female."

Harry choked on his food.

"You not be laughing, Harry Potter sir," Dobby admonished and wagged his finger. "One of these days he be forced to listen to witchy complaints. They not be fun!"

"Yeah, right." Harry wiped at his watering eyes.

"Dobby be telling Healer Brady to teach Harry Potter sir female health charms," the elf continued, visibly enjoying seeing Harry writhe in horror. "It be good for finding a mate. It be lucky that Healer Brady be wanting to come over tomorrow."

"You're cruel, Dobby," Harry muttered. "So, so cruel."

After breakfast, Harry took Hogwarts, A History from his bookshelf and double-checked his information. Then he sent Dobby to get all the goblin books on Arithmancy and Runes so they could make a list and buy their own copies as soon as the need arose. As he'd be starting with Hermione, Harry figured that the school book would suffice for a while.

Dobby's reappearance didn't shock him - what did was the towering stack of books in the elf's arms. Before he could help, however, they began to float and sorted themselves into the empty bookshelves.

"Did the goblins really had so many books?" Harry asked and gulped. That had to be at least forty books, some of them rather thick!

"Goblins did," Dobby affirmed, "but those be new copies for Harry Potter sir. Lord Black insisted. He be having healing consultation when Dobby arrived."

"Er, what? He bought all those books? When? How did he even know?"

"Dobby not be knowing, but Dobby be assuming that Lord Black be speaking with Steward Sharptooth."

That was at least half the wind taken out of Harry's sails. "Gosh. He's a little crazy, isn't he? Those must've cost a fortune."

"Lord Black be very rich," Dobby said nonchalantly. "And he be wanting to spoil Harry Potter sir. It be his duty and his pleasure as his godfather." He produced a clear crystal. "He be begging for a bit of magic in crystal so he be knowing his heir again. Dobby said he be asking."

Without really thinking about it, Harry took the offered crystal and held it tightly. "What do I have to do?"

"Harry Potter sir just be pushing a little magic into it," Dobby explained. "It be easy, take no time at all."

"Alright, then." Harry closed his eyes and tried to get to the warmth behind his breastbone. A feeling of intense gratitute bubbled up in him, surprising him when it streamed through him like a little river. Only a moment later, it seemed to overflow in his hand.

"Crystal be charged." Dobby snatched it up. "Dobby be delivering it!"

Alone again, Harry turned towards the bookshelves and stared at his new books. "Bloody hell. I'll never manage to read them all!"

Despite the overwhelming amount of new texts, Harry was perfectly capable of picking one with an interesting title and read until evening. Betty had to bully him out to the terrace - without his book - so he could eat his dinner in peace. As it turned out, she was very good at that; Harry decided not to get too much in the way of her handling, her worry about his health simply wasn't worth it.

oOo

Healer Williams arrived late in the morning. His normally smiling face was serious, although not as worried looking as it had been when the news of Sirius' breakout became public knowledge.

"Good morning, Harry," he said and joined Harry on his blanket beneath the willow tree. "How are you?"

"I'm not really fine," Harry replied, knowing that the man didn't want any platitudes. He poured him a glass of Dobby's lemonade and handed it over. "Headmaster Dumbledore refused my request to change electives for next year. He says I'm not allowed to go to the Runes and Arithmancy classes and that I have to keep Divination."

"Do you know why?"

"Not really. Professor McGonagall was right brassed off, at least that's what Dobby told me. He, er, snuck the letter onto her desk and stayed to take her answer back." Harry took a deep, calming breath. "Anyway, I'm still brassed off, too. But I decided to learn that stuff anyway, and Sirius gave me half a ton of books on the subjects, so ... you know." He shrugged. "Just my life."

"It certainly doesn't make sense to withhold an education that can only benefit you," Williams said, frowning. "You should appeal to the board of govenors, via your head of house. It's your right as a student, and such appeals are always taken up with the guardian of the student in question. If the guardian's decision is found to be unsound, the student will be allowed to join the class of his or her choice."

"Do you think they'll decide in my favour?"

Williams' voice was firm as he said, "Absolutely. One would have to be a moron not to know that Divination is a school subject for gifted children or those with a great personal interest. Since you display neither, and since Runes and Arithmancy are particularly useful subjects, I can't imagine a different outcome. But if there's actually a different outcome, you'll still be able to study privately. There's absolutely nothing Dumbledore can do to forbid that, so you'll have lost nothing but a little time."

"Well, Professor McGonagall's answer came this morning, but she didn't write anything about appealing." Harry pulled the letter from his pocket and unfolded it for Healer Williams to read. "Do you reckon the headmaster told her not to?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, and in truth, it's a criminal offence not to inform someone of their rights. It's clearly laid out in Hogwarts' Student Charter ... of which you've probably never received a copy." At Harry's headshake, Williams sighed. "I'll take care of that as soon as I return to Gringotts. What a mess."

"But we'll get it sorted, right?" Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers, watching as Williams used magic to make a copy of his letter. "Because Dobby told me that Sirius was a prankster in school and I'm kind of worried that he'll do something that gets him caught and locked up again."

"You asked whether you could write him letters, and the consensus among his healers is that you definitely should. Azkaban is guarded by demon-like creatures, the dementors, and their presence robs the inmates of every happy thought." Williams tapped Harry's clenching fingers and smiled. "His mental recovery will help his body heal much faster, and the way he took to your magical signature ... well. We all hope that he'll make a full recovery with your support."

"Have you met him?" Harry asked.

"Just briefly. He was very weak; being finally safe often does that to people who've experiences significant trauma. He'll need a while to get back on his feet, but Gringotts will take good care of him. What I noticed is that he was very invested in your well-being. He actually required an oath from your steward regarding your health before he allowed himself to rest easy and the healers to work on him."

Again, some warmth was blooming in Harry's chest. "I want to get to know him," he said. "If we're going to be a family, we've got to take care of each other."

"That's a very healthy way to approach this particular situation," Williams praised. "Of course you'll both have to truly earn each other's trust, but nothing I've seen so far indicates that Lord Black wants to do you harm - or you him. You've got time to get to know each other and find out what kind of relationship you'd like to have in the future."

"As long as he stays safe," Harry muttered, remembering the spark of what had suspiciously felt like mischievousness in his godfather's magic.

"Gringotts will extract a vow from him to not endanger his current position of relative safety, especially not for your sake," Healer Williams promised. "And we'll be underhanded about it and propose this while he's still recovering."

That made Harry smile, although it soon vanished. "Just don't ... don't imprison him, Brady. It's bad enough being sick, I don't want him to feel trapped again."

"Never, not after Azkaban. There are already plans being discussed where he could go to recuperate. It'll most likely be abroad, that way he'll have a lot more freedom."

"Yeah, okay. Good."

"Don't worry, Harry. He's a valued account holder and Gringotts will do everything in its considerable power to restore his health. They want the Black gold back in circulation, and since it worked so well with you, nothing is stopping them from aiding your godfather."

"Do you think they nobbled me somehow?" Harry asked, suddenly worried. "Not that I got the feeling, but I've never had much to do with the goblins."

"They most certainly didn't nobble you," Williams replied. "They might have proposed deals that benefited them just as well as they did you, but that's hardly a crime. In fact, you did them several favours, first by selling them the basilisk, and secondly by accepting land in lieu of gold. They reward good relations, Harry, and honour is one of their most important creeds."

"What's the most important?"

"To always keep the gold flowing," Healer Williams said with a grin. "Do you know why?"

"Uh, no, I can't say that I do."

"Goblin magic is intimately tied to precious metals, especially gold. From such metals, they generate their power. However, it's not the gold itself that lends them power, it's the hand the gold goes through. Gold in motion is perfection, as every magical being handling gold gives a tiny bit of their magic to the metal. It's nothing sinister, it just happens, and goblins evolved long, long ago to be able to use that special kind of stored magic."

"Wow, that's incredible!" Harry said, astounded. "So they just move it through the economy, somehow extract the collected magic, and to get the gold recharged, they then bring it back into circulation?"

"Perfectly summed up! The collected magic is used for their everyday business, but also to sustain their realm. To keep it healthy and balanced, they need to feed it with magic. In return for the magic, they offer superior services in medicine and warding and many other fields. For millennia, this exchange of power and goods has worked well."

"But what of the goblin rebellions?"

Williams laughed. "Honestly? Every now and then the goblins have enough of our superiority complex and put us in our place with a rebellion. Afterwards, everything returns more or less to normal and both sides are satisfied. I bet that's not how it's taught at Hogwarts!"

Harry grinned. "Our teacher puts half the school to sleep when he drones on about the rebellions. I'm usually reading ahead in my book or do homework."

"Good lad. Now hold still for me, Healer Spleenbash wants an update." Chuckling about Harry's put-upon sigh, Williams drew his wand and performed his diagnostic spell. "Ah, as expected your bones have improved further, as have most of your organs. I guess it's time to face the dreaded scar, my friend. I'm sorry."

"You really want to check it out, don't you?" Harry said, resigned.

"I really feel like I should," Williams admitted. "It'll be beastly for you, but the data could make this so much easier for the healers. There are still three weeks left until you leave for Hogwarts, but to prepare the ritual my colleagues do need some time. If you're not ready, we could always wait for next summer, although Healer Spleenbash won't like that."

"Neither do I." Harry grimaced and rubbed at the scar. "I ... alright. But just once!"

"Just once," Williams promised. He sat directly across from Harry, gently took the wand from the boy and handed it to Dobby, who'd silently popped up to watch the proceedings. "Your friend will keep it safe for you. Now, you said that you have an anger management problem ... I want you to think about the greatest injustice done to you. Imagine it vividly, and then allow yourself to get revenge in your mind. I'll put up several diagnostic spells to catch every shift in your magic. And ... go."

Harry was so used to swallowing his fury that he had trouble to get into the vision at first, even though there were many, many instances to choose from. The longer he tried to catch just one such moment however, the more he felt the anger come up. Something in his chest clenched, he balled his hands to fists, and suddenly, just like that, the image of hexing the Dursleys, Aunt Marge and Ripper to the moon ripped through his mind. It was so violent that he instinctually jerked back.

The damage was done, though. Agonizing pain shot through his head, wave after wave, making him cry out.

"Holy shit," Healer Williams cursed. He dropped his wand and caught Harry as he slumped. "Dobby, get Healer Spleenbash, please. She'll want to be here."

Dobby went, taking Harry's wand with him, and returned a mere two minutes later with the hassled goblin healer.

"It didn't go well," she stated and dropped to her knees next to Harry, already consulted the still running diagnostics. "Poor boy. The Dark Lord's shade got a good grip on him."

"At least I learned where it's originating," Williams murmured. "Ah, Harry, relax. Take a deep breath. You did well. We'll do what we can to help with the headache."

"His scar is bleeding a little," Healer Spleenbash growled. "What a beastly thing to do to a youngling." She fished a phial from her robe pocket, uncorked it, and dipped her finger in the clear liquid. Carefully, she dabbed at the scar. "Phoenix tears, they'll do the job for now."

"You'll get the shade out," Williams said. "You have to."

"And we will. Tell him to be ready on the 17th. It's a new moon, the perfect time to send Voldemort's shade where he belongs."

"I'll guide him through the preparations," Williams said.

Harry, who'd heard bits and pieces of their conversation, groaned. "Worse than falling off a broom."

"Yes," Healer Sharptooth crooned and stuffed a piece of chocolate into Harry's mouth. "You won't have to do it again, youngling."

After another diagnostic spell, she let Dobby pop her back to Gringotts.

"So we'll do it this summer?" Harry mumbled around his chocolate. It tasted warm and rich and perfect, even in his state.

"On the 17th," Healer Williams confirmed. "That gives us exactly one week to get you ready for the ritual."

"How?" Blinking, Harry fought against the sleepiness.

"A bit of fasting, a few ritual baths, that kind of thing. You better sleep now, Harry. Just sleep it off."

"Must write a letter," Harry murmured as his eyes closed.

"Write it when you're awake again." Williams combed soothingly through Harry's hair. "Get him to bed, Dobby. I'll see him tomorrow."

"Dobby will," the elf squeaked and took Harry away.

oOo

Harry felt a lot better once he'd had a good sleep, a meditative hour during which he wrote a letter to his godfather, and more of that fantastic chocolate. Dobby and Betty both pampered him shamelessly, even going so far as to draw him a raspberry scented bath and reading from the elf book as he fell asleep at night. It was lovely, and the small piece of Malijar's gift in his hand calmed him even further.

Now, after a particularly healthy breakfast, he was ready to learn what he needed to do to get rid of Voldemort's soul piece.

"Goblin ritual magic is capable of great feats," Healer Williams explained. With his wand, he drew a stylizied ritual circle. Golden mist rose and swirled around it. "But to meet the magic halfway, there are some things we wizards can do. First is ritual cleansing. I was informed that you have an interest in ritual magic, so consider this a free lesson in the basics."

Harry nodded eagerly and set his pencil on his writing paper. Before his eyes, another little circle made from magic appeared, and then an even smaller stick figure wizard. "Is that supposed to be me?" he asked.

Williams smirked. "Maybe." He waved his wand and a small cover lifted from the circle. "As you may know, this is called a cystern. We use it to cleanse ourselves from our everyday stresses and taints, both mundane and magical. A cleansing should be done before larger communions, although those may also work without one. You've done it during your warding, for example."

"Why should it be done if it works anyway?" Harry couldn't help but ask. "Isn't it sort of redundant?"

"An important question," the healer agreed. "Sometimes it might indeed be redundant, but ritual magic can be a very exacting craft. Some rituals demand purity in the sense that no outside influences are tolerated, be they from artifacts, magical creatures or, in your case, a possession of some kind. You enter the circle and therefore magic demands that your attention be focused entirely on your purpose. A touch of your pet or a bespelled trinket is enough to disturb your aura and influence your magic, so it's best to avoid that hassle and do a cleansing if you're about to do an important ritual."

"The book I started reading said it's also a demonstration of respect," Harry said. A little less sure, he added, "To magic."

"It sounds like magic is sentient, and that implies a certain belief, I know," Williams said. "Healer Spleenbash told me that you've been confronted with the idea of wizarding religion during the summer. If you're worried that someone is trying to convert you or anything, don't be. You can believe in magic without believing in deities. As long as you respect and honour magic in both word and deed, everything will be fine."

"Head Warder Shanoo said something similar to me in Potter's Field," Harry admitted. "It's just ... I never heard about it at all before this year, and now it seems to be everywhere."

"If I may offer some unsolicited advice?" Williams asked. "Accept it for what it is: a part of the world you now live in. It was always there, albeit hidden, and now it's come to your notice. If you're interested in our Lord and Lady Magic, I'll help you discover more, but if you're not, that's perfectly acceptable. Religion is a deeply personal choice and thankfully wizardkind has never believed in forcing their religious beliefs on others."

"Unlike the muggles," Harry replied. "That's kind of a relief."

"Personally, I'm not a fan of muggle religion at all," Williams confessed. "The togetherness of it is not my cup of tea, or the idea to believe wholesale what another person is telling me to believe."

"Are you religious?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"I believe in Malijar and his Lady, Ethys," Williams replied easily. "My worship, such as it is, is a deeply private matter. Oftentimes, a family has their own rituals and every relationship with the Lord and Lady of Magic is different."

"So you can decide all by yourself how to, I don't know, say hello and ask for things and stuff?"

Williams laughed kindly at Harry's awkward question. "Yes, you can. It just has to feel good. Most of the time I'm actually thanking the Lord and Lady, though."

"Thank them?"

"For all the good they've done. For me, my family, my community. You see, I had a good start in life, I'm gifted magically, and I have found a profession I love. There's also a roof over my head and I never have to go hungry. That's plenty to be grateful for, right?"

"Right. But surely you have wishes sometimes," Harry pressed. "What are you doing then?"

"Okay, this is turning too theoretical for the time frame we have available, but I'll make you a deal," Healer Williams said. "We'll finish today's work and then I'll show you something cool. Alright?"

Harry tried not to pout. "Alright."

Chuckling, Williams animated his magical drawings again and prodded the little wizard to climb into the cystern. "You must have a kneazle in your lineage, Harry, as curious as you are. See how the magical mist is taking all the impurities away from little stick-you? And that's not all. A cleanse also helps to order your thoughts and feelings so you can enter the ritual circle more focused and calm."

"But it won't take any thoughts away, or will it?"

"No, of course not. Although there are spells to verify the spellwork on a cystern, and I do think it'll be a good idea to teach them to you. With your penchant of getting into trouble or hurt ..." He didn't finish the sentence and instead produced a tiny well-like thing from his pocket. "This is a portable cystern." He cast an elargement spell and the cystern landed on the lawn, looking innocent and intriguing all at once. "It's just a simple one, but it does its job," Williams said. "Have a look, you can't break it."

Harry stood, opened the cover and reached inside. "It's cool. How does the water get in there?"

"Magic, of course." Williams laughed at Harry's huff. "More specifically, rune magic. Lumos." In the shine of his wand light, he showed Harry the runic array on the inside of the cystern. "This is for water ... this prompts misting, and this cluster here is more or less the programming to start the mist when someone magical enters the cystern. There are further rune clusters to generate the special magical properties of the mist."

"Wow." Impressed, Harry traced the runes. "And the caster would need Arithmancy to calculate which runes to place where, right?"

"Exactly right." Williams stood as well, took off his light summer robes, shirt and even his trousers. "Don't be alarmed - usually you step inside naked, but for a demonstration this will do." He climbed in, spread his arms out and sighed happily. "It's bliss during the summer, if nothing else."

Harry laughed, but also watched as the mist rose up from the low basinet until it fully covered the man. It gently wound and billowed around him, obviously taking its time to find the taints Williams had described.

At last, however, the gentle mist evaporated and Williams stepped out. "That was lovely. I was in the snake house this morning and it showed."

"Oh, I completely forgot about him ... how is Snake?"

"He's just fine. Someone took him on a trip to China. I also haven't forgotten the visit, but we should get that Dark Lord thing out of you first."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly. Pointing at the cystern, he asked, "Can I try it?"

"By all means." With a wave of his hand, Williams' clothes shimmered and were suddenly back on his body.

Feeling a little shy next to the rather well-built young man, Harry only dropped his shirt before climbing into the cystern. His feet tingled a little. The sensation crept up until it enveloped his whole body. For a moment or two the mist was so thick around him that he couldn't see anything. Finally it cleared away and Harry had to admit that he actually felt a lot lighter.

"That worked, I guess. But ... what did the mist take away? There are no artifacts around here, and other than Hedwig I don't have any magical pets."

Williams smiled. "But you spent a lot of time on Potter's Field where ley magic abounds. The cystern had to work hard to scrub you clean. Who knows what plants and critters actually live there and touched your magic. And you also have a piece of Malijar's Gift, that's bound to influence you quite a bit."

"I understand; I'd better leave that at home when Healer Spleenbash does her thing."

"We shall see and decide when the time has come." Williams closed the lid of the cystern with a little wave of his hand. "I'll leave that here. You should use it at least once a day, preferably at night, to clean yourself as much as possible from Voldemort's taint. Reinforcing the message will make residing in your body more and more uncomfortable for the shade."

"But I could also use it in the morning?" Harry wanted to know.

"Always before bed, but also whenever you like," Williams confirmed. "Tomorrow we'll talk about fasting, and why it is important. Before you ask, yes, there are potions to help with that, but like everything to do with magic, the mindset is just as important as the physical aspect. Gringotts wants you to mentally deal with the fact that something monumental is going to happen to you. The shade is an immense burden on you, whether it feels like one or not. Making it uncomfortable in its home will make you notice how much strain it's been putting you under. You'll have to want to let it go."

"I do want it to disappear," Harry said, puzzled.

"People want many good things. That doesn't mean they're ready to accept them when they actually happen upon them." Williams smiled gently. "It's a normal reaction, but it's also the reason we're having this preparation phase."

"Okay," Harry murmured.

"Great! Then let's have some fun! Take your wand!"

Harry obeyed and under the healer's instruction soon managed to use the wand like a brush, calling shiny, glowing magical lines into existence.

"Now, draw a large circle around yourself. Down on the lawn would be easiest ... yes, just like that. It's no problem if it's a little wobbly." Williams grinned. "Now brace yourself. This is North. Paint this rune here."

He demonstrated and Harry copied him, doing this at all four cardinal points.

"Now repeat after me: May magic bless this circle and aid me in my magical purpose."

Harry spoke the words and wasn't at all prepared for the sudden rush of magic around him. Rising from his painted circle, it heaved upwards, reaching for him like an eager child.

Williams chortled about his flabbergasted expression. "Very well done, Harry. Now you can use the circle however you please. How about introducing yourself to ritual magic in meditation. Just sit and think about it for a while, tell it about yourself; that's what magical communion is about, after all."

"And what will you do?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I think Dobby might be persuaded to get some ice cream from Fortesque's for us both, since the hot days will be over any time now. Have fun!" And with that Healer Williams strode off, leaving Harry in his circle and unsure what to do about it.

oOo

At night, long after another dip in the cystern, Harry pondered his first foray into ritual magic. It had been lovely and easy, yet it felt somehow different from communing with his ward stones.

Maybe because it's magic, not a magical object, he mused. It's just so ... big. I wonder if Hermione would like it as well. The thought of teaching her something new was unexpectedly pleasant, and he grinned. I bet she'd be brilliant at it.

His thoughts then turned to his other friend and he sighed. He could just hear Ron bemoaning this newest pursuit and claiming that Hermione had spoiled him for fun. Thinking even further on the issue, he remembered all the instances Ron had talked down to Hermione or ridiculed her for liking school. Suddenly it appeared rather obvious that Ron tolerated her for Harry's sake, and probably vice versa as well.

Frowning, Harry rolled over. No, I'm being stupid. He defended her against Malfoy, after all. You don't do something like that for people you're only tolerating.

But the thought stuck, which annoyed him, and it took a long while to fall asleep.

oOo

The next few days until his meeting with Hermione passed with more little lessons about ritual magic and spells Healer Williams thought might be useful. Harry proved especially adept at the summoning spell and used it to summon practically everything, including the house elves. Betty especially loved being summoned and tossed onto the trampoline, from which she'd bounce and pop away so Harry could summon her again. It was a fun game and helped Harry to take his mind off the impending ritual at Gringotts.

The only gnat in his porridge was the fast; he'd started drinking broth for dinner and would have to limit himself to one full meal on Saturday to keep up with the fasting schedule Healer Williams had set up. He consoled himself that it could've been worse and was determined to make the best of the lunch Hermione had promised him.

Finally Saturday arrived and Harry let Dobby pop him to Crawley, right into the Grangers' living room.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and pounced on him for an enthusiastic hug. "It's good to see you!"

"You've only seen him last week," her mother teased, but moved to give Harry a brief embrace as well.

Dan shook the boy's hand. "Well, I know that Hermione's eager to get going, so I'll just go over the rules and then we're out of your hair."

"Dad," Hermione sighed.

"You know this has to happen, princess," Dan said sternly. "A boy is taking you out-"

"I am taking a boy out," she interrupted.

"You're having alone time with a boy," Dan amended, "and therefore it is my privilege and duty to inform that boy that you're expected back no later than six, in one piece, and without ..." He paused dramatically, "Hickeys!"

Emma and Hermione groaned and Harry flushed fiercely.

"Er, alright," he stammered.

"Don't mind him," Hermione said, glaring at her father, "he's threatened to do that for years. You're just the first poor sod to suffer through it."

As they hastily got out the door, Hermione's hand around Harry's wrist, Dan called, "No hickeys, Harry! I'll check!"

Mortified, the two teens hurried away.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, Harry," Hermione rushed to say. Even under her tan her cheeks were flaming. "Oh my god, I can't believe he actually pulled that stunt."

"If it's any consolation, I didn't expect to get a shovel talk, either," Harry tried to joke.

"Yes, he knows it's not a date. Honestly."

Something in her voice caught Harry's attention. "Well, if it were, it'd be my first one. Ever," he admitted.

"Really?" Hermione raked a hand through her wild hair and blinked. "I'd have thought that some girl or other would've asked you at Hogwarts."

"They didn't." Harry shrugged. "I guess I don't live up to the hype."

"You're just fine, Harry," Hermione replied with conviction and smiled encouragingly. "They'll probably start dropping hints now. You look ..." She looked away, suddenly a little shy. "You look really good, Harry. I'm so glad the Dursleys have treated you better this summer."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Er, yeah. Uh, Hermione ..." He gathered all of his courage and snagged her soft hand in his. "I know that your dad was teasing us, but ... maybe it'd be nice, having a first date with a friend. If you want to."

Shyness forgotten, she stared at him.

"Only if you like," he hastened to assure her, grateful that she hadn't taken her hand away in horror. Yet. "It's just ... girls are so scary sometimes, and I never really know what to talk about with one I don't already know. Going on a date with you would be great, actually."

"Just because you know me already?" Hermione inquired softly.

"Well, no. You're also really pretty but how do guys tell that to girls without sounding like a moron?" Harry muttered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Harry James." Hermione's eyes were shining and she smiled. "I'd be happy to have my first date ever with you. We've already started, see?" She gave his hand a squeeze.

Squeezing back, Harry smiled. "Wow. Thank you! And now I'm nervous. Is that lame or what?"

"Only a little," Hermione giggled. "I'm a bit nervous, too."

"So ... can I ask what people actually do on dates, other than talking and kissing?"

"Holding hands is rather nice."

Harry smiled, looking at their interlaced fingers. "Yeah. It is."

After a short walk around the neighbourhood, Hermione led Harry to her favourite bistro and told him to order anything that caught his fancy.

"I'm pretty sure this should be my line, since I asked you out," Harry said, worried. "Are you sure?"

"This was always going to be my treat, Harry," she replied, "because I invited you first. And besides, we'll still be friends after our date, right? If you like, it can be your treat next time."

"Okay," he agreed, relieved. "But I got pounds from Gringotts, just in case."

Together, they ordered hummus and falafel, shawarma, and a multitude of little dishes that were called meze and seemed to be the Middle Eastern version of tapas or antipasti.

During the wait and the meal, they talked about everything that caught their fancy, most of it school-related. As expected, Hermione threw a fit of epic proportions over Dumbledore's interference in Harry's choice of electives and Harry let her rage because she was saying all the things about Dumbledore he couldn't allow himself to even fully think without provocing a monstruous headache. When that was done and over with, they were back to holding hands. It was a little awkward at first, especially since the weather was still warm and both their palms were a little sweaty, but Harry didn't mind. And since Hermione didn't complain either, he was happy to keep doing it.

"It's all delicious," Harry proclaimed near the end of their lunch. "One day, I'll have to visit the country and eat all of that right there."

"Me, too," she agreed with a bright smile. "I love travelling with my parents. For next summer, they are thinking about Morocco. People are speaking French there, so the language won't a problem, but everything else will be very different." She leaned closer and whispered, "Dobby could come over every day and get food for you."

"That would be awesome," Harry agreed, smiling back. "If he could find you in France, it might just be possible."

Since neither was keen on returning to Hermione's house just yet, they took a long stroll through the nearby park, where a few kids their age were staring at Hermione and Harry from a safe distance.

"What's up with them?" Harry asked.

"They're not old friends, if that's what you mean," she mumbled.

"Did they bother you before you went to Hogwarts?"

Hermione lifted her chin a little and stared back at a dark-haired girl with freckles that looked like she was considering getting in their way. "Before I got sent to self-defence classes and learned how to wipe the floor with them."

Harry looked at her in awe. "Is that true?"

She grinned. "I'm still going during the summers, just so I won't forget all of it. I earned my black belt before Hogwarts."

"You are so amazing," Harry said with utmost sincerity. "I wish I could have learned that, too."

"Well, nobody's really keeping you ..." Hermione hesitated. "I'm not trying to pry or anything, but you really seem much more relaxed this summer. If the Dursleys aren't giving you grief, you could start a course somewhere." She gained confidence at his considering look and added, "It's just like being able to swim when you live on an island: if there are people out for your blood, you better know how to make attacking you unappealing, and fast. If they're better magically, you can at least be better in hand-to-hand combat. Just think, you could even take away their wand, or get your own wand back from them. In a fight that's invaluable."

Harry found that he agreed completely with Hermione and made a note to himself to bring it up with Healer Williams at the next opportunity. Still, he was a little worried. "Have they tried anything with you since then?"

"Tried, yes." Hermione smiled mischievously. "Were they successful? No. I like to think that they learned their lesson during the last seven years."

"Seven ... right. Black belt." Harry squeezed her fingers. "It's a wonder you haven't decked Malfoy yet ... or Ron."

She huffed. "Well, learning a potentially deadly martial art kind of makes you responsible for other people. I try not to hold their stupidity against them, but I swear, one more idiotic word from Malfoy and I'll clock him one."

"Only one? I'd hold his arms for you until you've knocked some sense into him, 'Mione. It might take a while."

"Charming." Hermione smirked but bumped Harry's shoulder with her own. "But I mean it. Knowing how to really hurt someone is freeing, but it's also a burden. Some dumb people even take it as a challenge. So I'd appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself. Okay?"

"It's your business," Harry assured her. "But I'm still amazed! And there's a popsicle stand - my treat."

They bought a small ice cream each and meandered back to Hermione's home. There, Harry got the tour of the house and spent almost an hour in Hermione's room. She had shelves and shelves of books, most of them muggle, but the magical texts were catching up fast. A lot of the tomes seemed to be rather advanced supplemental reading and he wondered just how much money her parents truly invested in their daughter's education. On the wall, he also spied a muggle seconday school diploma.

"I knew you were smart, but those are a lot of books, even adult specialist books," Harry said, gaping a little. "You've read all of them, didn't you? And you already finished secondary school!"

"Yes," Hermione admitted. She sat on her bed and clasped her hands in her lap. "I'm ... I was tested high on the brain score as a child, and again after my first year at Hogwarts. My parents try to sponsor my development as well as they can. It's not easy for them, or cheap. I'm also almost through the local library. I've got a card for the British Library, but I don't exactly have a lot of time to borrow books from there. It's frustrating. Even worse, I've got a near eidetic memory. It's not perfect, but ... almost. That's one hell of a combination and I know it drives people batty when I know everything a professor asks. But just sometimes it'd be good to be able to forget something, or at least be able to not write everything I know for an essay. Some professors dock points if I go over their length limit."

Harry put his hand on hers and carefully leaned against her. "It's still a great gift to have and I bet your parents are really, really proud of you. If someone's teasing you about it, they're probably just jealous. And ... please don't kill me ... it's just school. Sure, it's important, but all that really counts are the OWLs and NEWTs, right? Why drive yourself crazy with things you can't really control? We didn't even have exams last year, and I bet no one will ever ask about our second year grades, anyway."

Hermione stared at him, her eyes welling with tears. "Harry ..."

Panicking, he stuttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to downplay your problem, or hurt your feelings."

"You didn't." She sniffed, hugged him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You give me perspective. Just like that! That's one of the reasons I like you so much. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Harry put his arms around her and patted her back. A book title caught his eye. "Hey, you have textbooks about judo and karate. Can I borrow one?"

"Of course," she said. Quickly wiping her eyes, Hermione went to the shelf and pulled out a large book. "Krav maga might be a good fit for you. It's rather brutal, but honestly, who cares if you knock a death eater's teeth loose?"

"Not me!" Harry retorted with feeling.

They sat there and looked at pictures and explanations until Hermione's parents called them down for tea. Upon learning that Harry couldn't partake due to health reasons, the Grangers managed to overcome their surprise quickly and graciously plied Harry with tea and good conversation. Being dentists and conscious of their family's health, their tea tray didn't hold as many sweets as it would have otherwise and Harry felt quite alright watching them munch on fruit and little sandwiches.

At last it was time for Dobby to take Harry home. He enjoyed Hermione's lingering hug and renewed their promise to meet next week. "Will that be our second date?" he asked cheekily and tugged a little at her hair.

"Harry James," Hermione said, blushing.

Her parents looked on with interest but just waved when he said goodbye and was whisked away a second later.

---

End of part 4