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]

5. Chapter 5

Finally the new chapter is done. Forgive the mistakes, I wasn't a 100%. Stupid cold season. If you like it regardless, great, and if you don't like all the clichés or whatever, hit the back button.

---

Dobby's Deceit

Part 5

Healer Williams noticed Harry's distracted mood immediately when he came to check up on his charge the following day. It was still warm enough for the picnic blanket, but Harry had opted to wear a jumper instead of just a t-shirt, and Dobby served hot drinks and heartier snacks.

"Everything went well yesterday, then?" Williams asked as he ran his diagnostics. "You had a good time with your friend?"

"Er, yeah."

Harry's light flush prompted Williams to prod for more information. "Oh, I see. Was it a date, even?"

"Kind of. Yes. As friends. I mean ... her father gave me the shovel talk as a joke, and somehow it happened when we talked about it." Harry shrugged. "Going out with her was nice. I asked if next time could be a date, as well."

Williams' smile got wider. "She must be something special."

"She is." Harry enthusiastically told him all about Hermione's muggle school education and the fact that she actually had a black belt in martial arts. "She said I could learn this, too, and lent me a book on krav maga. The pictures look wicked. Can I try?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you can study whatever catches your fancy, especially if it's self-defence," Healer Williams replied. "I'll consult with Gringotts, maybe they'll be able to arrange for a teacher next summer. Since that's more than a year away, your Hermione might be willing to teach you the basics."

"She already said she'd teach me swimming," Harry said. "I don't want her to have to teach me everything." He picked at the hem of his sleeve. "If I could teach her something in return, I wouldn't feel so dumb."

"You're not dumb. You just told me that she's exceptionally gifted - there's no sense in comparing yourself to her, at least not in that regard. You have other strengths ... and I bet you hardly even notice." At Harry's questioning look, Williams clarified, "You pick up new spells quickly. That's a talent right there. You can help her with charms and spells and even teach her the ones you've learned over the summer. I'd say that's a fair exchange."

"Oh. Do you think so? She's usually pretty quick, though."

"Working together is always more fun," Williams said with a smile. "And considering how distracted you are today, spending more time with her won't exactly be a hardship for you."

"Er, no." Harry chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "But I shouldn't, or Ron would flip."

"Ron is your other best friend, yes? Why don't you tell me a little about him? How did you meet?"

Harry described how he'd almost missed the train in first year and went on to sketch their adventures during the two years at Hogwarts. "Ron's completely different from Hermione," he concluded, "and he doesn't like homework much. He teases her for studying a lot but wants her to help him because she's so good. I told him to knock it off, but that's not gonna change him, even if he's not saying anything to her. Still, he's a good friend. And I might need him for ... you know. Perspective."

"Do you feel that you need perspective?" Williams asked curiously. "Or rather, that you need his perspective?"

"How do you mean?" Harry frowned and took a sip of his hot elf berry cider.

"Well, you seem to be a curious kid. You like to read your books and learn new things. In short, you're motivated to move forward in life and find your place among your peers. Your friend Ron, however ... forgive me if that sounds a little callous ... from what you told me about him so far, he seems like someone who's content to get by with minimal effort and pursue his hobbies otherwise."

"Well ... maybe. But there's nothing wrong with that, Brady," Harry defended his friend.

"Of course not," Williams agreed. "To each their own. It only becomes an issue when a friend like that tries to keep you from doing what you want to achieve for yourself. Take Hermione for example: she likes to study and does very well in school, right? But since that's not on par with Ron's goals, he's teasing her and even trying to get her to help finish his own work. But he's not doing anything to help her in return, or enrich her experience as a student. At least that's my impression, so please correct me if I'm wrong." When Harry couldn't refute this claim, Williams asked, "Would you say that's fair?"

"You know I wouldn't," Harry sighed. "I know what you're trying to say. I shouldn't let others drag me down."

"More than that, you shouldn't allow others to drag you down," Williams said. "And especially not because they're your best friend. Making you feel guilty or bad because you won't spend all of your time with them is not a sign of a good friendship, Harry, and using that as leverage to make you give in is petty."

"He doesn't really do that," Harry countered. "He's got a couple of other friends he can do stuff with if I really need to do homework."

"But surely that's not always the case," Williams prodded.

"Well, no. Sometimes he just wants to do things with them because he wants to."

"And what do you do when he's busy with them?" Williams asked, gently. "Does he invite you along?"

"Dunno, not really. But that's alright, I'm doing my homework then." Harry shrugged. "It's working out okay."

"But it's not exactly healthy, to be picked up and discarded like a toy when it suits him," Williams said. "I'm not saying he's a bad kid or anything. But he is quite clearly influencing your performance at school. You're a good student and not seeing this reflected on your report card is worrying. You're capable of much more and you should give yourself permission to pursue an education you will be able to be proud of. It's quite clear to me that you're allowing him to dictate when to play and when to study. Tell me, does he listen to you when you want to decide what to do?"

"Uhm, not very often. He's whining a lot when I want to go to the library." Harry was suddenly gripped by an intense sense of loss as the full breadth of what Healer Williams was saying hit him. "I don't want to lose Ron as a friend," he said. His grip on the mug became so tight that his fingers started to hurt. "Even if he's not perfect."

"None of us are," Williams soothed him."You don't have to lose him."

"But you were just telling me that he's not really good for me." Harry stiffly set the mug down. "How is that not telling me to drop him, more or less?"

Williams smiled slightly. "I'll never tell you what to do in your personal relationships. It is, however, my job to make you question your personal relationships from time to time. You constantly question your relationships with adults because of your upbringing, even if you want to trust them, and that is more than fair. However, through our talks I've discovered that you have difficulty doing the same with kids."

"I do not! My cousin is a nightmare and some students at school aren't any better!" Harry said hotly. "I know exactly who's a bully and who's not."

"But that is all," Williams replied evenly. "If they're not hunting or hitting you, you don't really know how to interact with other kids. It's terrible and your relatives deserve a good bollocking for it, but let's get it out in the open, yes? People your age are blanks for you, Harry, if they've not clearly labelled themselves as threats. Growing up without friends damaged your interpersonal skill development, meaning that you have difficulties sussing out the kids' characters. Strong personalities are obviously easier for you to grasp, hence your friendship with Ron and Hermione. Both have personalities I'd describe as rather dominant. As long as everything is seemingly out in the open, you seem to be able to deal with it well. What you're lacking a bit is the ability to differentiate."

"That sounds really bad." Harry looked down. "I'm a right basket case, am I not? It's scary how you seem to look right into me."

"Life has challenged you," Williams admitted, "but you're in no way a basket case. And as to me looking right into you: that's what I've been studying several years for. I want to help, and if I ever overstep, just let me know. It's not my intention to hurt you, ever."

"Well, it does hurt a little to be told things like that, but you're right. I don't really know how to meet people. Or how to make a good impression. Maybe ... can you explain how to get to know people better? And ..." Harry took a deep breath. "And can you tell me how I can have more time for school? And, uh, Hermione?"

"Yes, of course." Williams smiled encouragingly. "We'll talk about all of that and you'll understand that you can be friends with someone without giving in to their every demand. It's about balance."

"Can I tell Hermione that she's bossy?" Harry asked hopefully. "Because she is! She's always badgering us to go to the library more often and stuff."

That made Healer Williams laugh out loud. Then, he proceeded to explain to Harry what a double standard was and how it applied to Ron's demand for fun times which Harry rarely resisted, and Hermione's demand for proper school work, which he mostly rebuffed without much regret.

When their day was done, Harry's head was so full with new information that he forgot his growling stomach, just dipped into the cystern - due to the uncertain weather now placed in the master bathroom - and then went to bed.

oOo

Monday was the second day of Harry's full fast. He was a little hungry, but the crammed feeling in his mind had lessened overnight and he finally felt up to re-reading and answering his godfather's letter.

Hello Sirius,

I'm glad that you're feeling a little better already. The blue potion is okay, but my favourite is the vitamin booster because it tastes like real strawberries. My healers gave me a book about goblin potions; as soon as I have an extra potions kit I'll try them out. My healers told me they'll test them rigorously before allowing me to use them, but I hope I'll be good enough to make my own stuff soon. Without Snape to ruin it, it's an interesting subject, don't you think?

It's good that you want to move into the cottage while I'm gone. Dobby, the house elf I wrote about in my first letter, wants to go to Hogwarts with me, but Betty will be glad to have someone to care for. Other than your own stuff for entertainment, everything should be taken care of. But if you need anything, please let Betty, Sharptooth or me know. Until then do your best to ignore the Dursleys. They're horrid, but with goblin wards around the room no one will find you in the trunk.

I had a long talk with Healer Williams yesterday. He told me that I need to watch out for myself more, so I won't slack off too much in school. He's right, I guess, since my report cards for first and second year weren't all that great. Sorry about that, by the way. I'll do better next year, I promise.

Get well soon,

Harry

Folding and sealing the missive for later delivery, Harry contemplated what he should do with the rest of his day. Healer Williams wanted to stop by in the evening and bring a snake for a visit, but other than that his only tasks were keeping up with the fast and using the cystern whenever he felt like it.

A light rain was keeping him indoors so he decided on reading more in the goblins' potions book. His shopping list for a second potions kit was complete and he knew that Dobby was holding out on buying it until Voldemort's shade was gone from Harry's scar. It was an incentive and worked surprisingly well; he hadn't moaned about not being able to eat Dobby's cooking once today.

In the late afternoon, he'd just finished tinkering with his potions things in the stillroom, there was a loud hiss coming from the open door.

"Hello?" he called.

"It's just me, Harry," Healer Williams replied and appeared in the doorway. Around his neck he carried a large boa constrictor. "He smelled you as soon as we landed here and insisted to meet you immediately. Say hello to Portos."

"Hello, Portos," Harry said, stepping close to let the snake touch his fingers with its forked tongue. "Welcome to my home."

"You smell nice, hatchling," the snake informed him, "but your garden is empty. No rats or gnomes to be found."

"I'm sorry, I hope you're not too hungry." Laughing, Harry accepted the boa's foray onto his shoulders and helped him settle comfortably around his neck. "Wow, you're a big guy. Your scales look beautiful."

"They do," Portos agreed smugly. "I have many mates in the snake house."

Harry and Williams shared a mirthful look before deciding to repair to the living room for the visit. Dobby had already prepared refreshments and even a small morsel for the snake guest.

"How are you feeling?" Williams asked when the pouring of tea and plating of sandwiches was out of the way. "Do you feel a difference after almost a week of daily cleansing and fasting?"

"I think so," Harry said. "I've got a headache most of the time and there have been a few nightmares. Since yesterday evening, I can hardly concentrate."

"So you're ready to let the Dark Lord's shade go?"

"I'm so ready," Harry promised. "I can't wait. Are we still leaving tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes, Healer Spleenbash needs to do her checks, and you'll have to donate blood for the ritual. Your steward will be on hand to oversee its use, as you'll be busy otherwise."

"I can trust Gringotts not to misuse my blood, right?" Harry asked, just because he felt he should.

"You'll sign a contract and accept a vow. Magic will punish such a breach most harshly." Williams smiled. "You were very comfortable speaking parseltongue just now. I'm glad."

"I don't even know why," Harry said. "When I tried to open the secret passage to the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts, I needed to see the snake carving on the sink before I could speak."

"It might be because you feel better about it now than you did then," Williams offered. "It's a good thing in any case because I planned on leaving Portos here until it's time for us tomorrow to leave for Gringotts."

"You trust me with one of Gringotts' snakes?" Harry asked.

"The snakes there aren't prisoners," Williams explained. "Portos smelled you on me last night and decided that he wanted to meet you."

"Is that true?" Harry asked the snake and gently touched the glossy, triangular head. "Why?"

"Because you feel nice," was the sleepy reply. "Feel safe and warm."

"He wasn't the only one," Williams teased. "But the head breeder put his foot down and told the others to wait their turn."

"I don't know what to say to that." Harry stroked the snake a couple of times. "But he's welcome to stay for the night." To Portos, he said, "Would you like to visit the garden properly before coming in for the night?"

"I would," Portos hissed. "Let your elf take me out. I'll show him where plants go to attract garden gnomes."

"Do I even need gnomes?" Harry wondered and Healer Williams laughed.

"Your godfather might enjoy tossing them," Williams said and snagged another sandwich. "Right now, the property is warded against any and all pests. It's up to you to decided what sort may enter and what has to stay away."

"Really? Cool! I'll talk with Dobby and make the change. Er, if that's okay before tomorrow."

"It would not harm the ritual," Williams said. "How are you feeling, besides being a bit downtrodden from the fast? Was our talk too much yesterday?"

Harry chewed on his lower lip briefly before confessing, "It was a lot. And it's hard learning unpleasant things about yourself. I feel a bit ... I dunno. Raw."

"I'm sorry," Williams said quietly. "It wasn't my intention to upset you. It's obvious that you care a great deal about your friends."

"But you were right. I can care about them and still see their faults and call them out on it." Harry sighed. "It was just a bit much to, you know, see all at once." He then frowned, a little piqued. "Also, I can't believe I didn't notice it myself."

"That's what I mean by reflecting on your relationships." Williams set his plate down. "Sometimes we need to take a step back and just observe. It's hard because friendships engage all of us: our mind, heart, and emotions. Add being a teenager to all of that and it becomes very difficult to keep a cool head and re-orient. You remember the trick for that?"

"Set yourself goals you want to achieve and plan for time and energy accordingly. Surround yourself with people who have similar goals, but make time for friends who don't. Defend your time for your goals and only rarely allow exceptions," Harry recited dutifully. "Revise your goals periodically and see if they remain the same or have change. Adjust your schedule accordingly."

"Very good! Have you thought about it?"

"All afternoon," Harry said with a wry little grin. "I bet Hermione does this in her sleep."

"That might well be. Do you agree with it?" Williams asked.

"I guess so. It makes sense to put myself first, since it's my education. But I don't know how to deal with it if Ron gets real moody or something." Harry shrugged lightly, taking care not to upset Portos too much. "Maybe I'll need one of those weekly planner things to set up times for study and play."

"It's not a bad idea at all. You'll have to find out what time works for which endeavor. Studying might be better at night for you, or during the day. There's no need to stress yourself out right away by keeping to an arbitrary schedule. Set away hours and allot them as the opportunities present themselves. If it's not a good fit, change it around until you're comfortable with the routine."

"That doesn't sound too difficult. Er, Brady ..." Harry hesitated. "How are we doing this when I'm back at school? I, eh, didn't like this much in the beginning, but I think it does help, now. Talking to you, I mean."

"I'm glad," Williams said. "And of course I'll still be available to you. I propose letters, since meeting personally might tip off Dumbledore. Your Dobby can take your letters to Gringotts as he pops over to collect your mail."

"Hedwig would be too conspicious, anyway." Harry frowned. "The poor girl is really put out with Dobby and I for taking away her job."

A sly look came over Healer Williams' face. "Hm, I might just have an idea to help with that. Would you be willing to invest a few galleons?"

"Sure. What is it?" Harry asked.

"Well, Gringotts has a few post owls for special deliveries and such, and they require an amulet to do their work. One of the amulets' settings is camouflage. Not merely changing her appearance, but her magical signature as well. It would require some extensive charm work to make one for Hedwig, but it might be worth it."

"Oh, could you really arrange it?" Harry asked hopefully. "I'd love to send her without being worried that someone might snatch her."

"I'll certainly try," Williams replied. "It might take a while, though, so don't be too impatient. And now on to something completely delightful: magic!" He pulled a small booklet from his pocket and handed it over. "Ever since I taught you that mosquito repelling spell, I thought about teaching you the Australian version of pest repellence. If you're doing it, why not do it right, and we Aussies do have some of the deadliest pests in the world crawling over the continent."

"What's the difference?" Harry asked, already thumbing through the pages.

"Oooh," Williams hooted, "you'll be so surprised!"

oOo

Harry was still surprised as he lay in bed, thinking about what he'd learned that evening. Portos rested on his stomach and leeched warmth from him, not that Harry minded. His weight was actually comforting.

Spells that hook into your core and power themselves! he repeated silently over and over again. How neat is that?! If I can do that with the pest repellent charm, I'll never have to worry about anything biting me ever again! I could go to the jungle, or even just the Forbidden Forest! Take that, Aragog and Fluffy! Hogwarts might actually be safe for me for once.

The possibilities seemed fantastic and endless and then, when it became apparent that sleep wasn't coming, Harry's thoughts wandered. They wandered into the other direction, poking and prodding at uses for bad people. Maybe it was the unusual activity of Voldemort's shade due to the fasting and cleansings, maybe it was just Harry's natural pessimism, but the more he considered that angle, the worse his agitation became.

Finally, he couldn't stay in bed any longer and went down to the living room.

"Harry Potter sir should be sleeping," Dobby said fretfully, joining Harry in front of the dark fireplace. "It be big day tomorrow!"

"I know, but this thing about spell hooks is keeping me up really badly. I need to ..." Harry aborted twice, but on the third attempt he actually pinched some Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. "Gringotts, Healer Williams."

The man's voice came through only a moment later, although he'd obviously been about to go to sleep. "Harry? What is it? Is everything alright?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I can't stop thinking about those spell hooks."

"Do you need me to come over?"

"Can you?" Harry asked.

"I'll step through, please tell your wards not to boot me to North Africa or something," Williams replied.

Harry withdrew and a second later, Healer Williams rushed out of the fireplace in a small cloud of soot. "How can I help?" he asked without bothering to brush himself off. "Come, let's sit."

Dobby lit a few lamps in the living room and popped away to bring hot chocolate.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Harry admitted, wringing his hands. "Spell hooks are pretty great, it's just ... when I started thinking about them, I began to wonder if other people can use them without someone knowing. That'd be pretty evil, right?"

"It might be the Dark Lord's shade turning your attention more than usual to the darker aspects," Williams said, "but you're right. Spell hooks can be used on other people, and without their consent or knowledge. I'm very sorry I didn't think it through before teaching you about them. Please forgive me."

Harry waved that away. "It's really cool and I'll probably use them, it's just ... how can you find out whether someone put a hook in you? Won't you notice?"

"If what you really want to know is whether you have spell hooks anchored in your core right now, then the answer is no. If you've had them, they have disintegrated after being bitten by the basilisk, as the venom is highly corrosive to magic. Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to destroy Tom Riddle's diary with that tooth. And Gringotts hasn't found anything of the sort during your first thorough check, so no one spelled you after that."

"Oh. Phew, I'm relieved." Harry took a deep breath. "Thanks."

"Maybe you shouldn't be," Williams admitted cautiously. "Magic is appallingly easy to use against other people, and spell hooks can be terrible things. I don't know if someone told you about them already, but there is one unforgivable curse that hooks into a wizard's core and makes them do everything the caster wants him to. It's called the imperious curse. There is no known defence against it."

"Everything?" Harry asked, horrified. "Even something like murder?"

"Yes, even murder. But there are worse things than killing humans can do to each other: they can make you have sexual relations with someone you hate, they can make you give them all your money, they can make you destroy all your friendships or your family. The curse is unforgivable for a reason, because it is very, very hard to fight against the compulsion, and because it always stays active, just waiting for its master to utter the next command." Williams took a breath. "The awareness of the victim can be as concrete as the caster wants it to be; a sadist can make it so the victim knows and experiences every atrocity done to them, or by them, while being unable to fight against it. The victims become prisoners in their own bodies. It's the worst kind of torture."

"Worse than the cruciatus curse?" Harry asked quietly. "I've got a friend whose parents were tortured to insanity."

"The Longbottoms, yes," Williams said just as quietly. "You may think differently, of course, but to me, being used like a puppet is a thousand times worse than experiencing pain, no matter how bad that pain is. The imperious curse is rape in many horrifying ways and I hope that you'll never be subjected to it."

Harry's chest ached. "Yeah, I hope so, too. Is it even possible to get rid of spell hooks?"

Collecting himself, Williams nodded. "Yes. The goblins can detect and remove them, and even harvest the magical signature of the caster. I wish I could tell you that everyone went to have regular checks, or even just the members of the government, but the truth is that no one really thinks about things like that."

"But they should! Voldemort is coming back, I know it!" Harry got up and paced a few steps. "I don't want people to use magic against me, especially not him."

"There are a couple of shield charms and such that can stop low level magic, but the stronger spells would still get through."

"But I'd know, right?" Harry demanded. "I'd know if someone used magic on me behind my back, even if the shield charm were too weak to stop it?"

Healer Williams looked at Harry like he was seeing some kind of apparition. "A magic detecting ward would do that, but Harry ... those spells are a bit much for someone your age. I'll scan you as often as you like, but you're riling yourself up and it isn't good for you."

"I won't feel safe until I can know when someone's hexing me," Harry retorted stubbornly. "Maybe I don't need to know how to do those spells tonight, but after that ritual tomorrow I need to learn, okay? Please teach me."

"I will," Williams promised and sighed at the boy's stubbornly set jaw. "I will, Harry. Please, allow me or Dobby to cast a sleeping charm on you so you'll be rested tomorrow."

"Dobby can do it," Harry said, impulsively grabbing the man's hand and squeezing it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Williams replied quietly. "I wish you didn't have to think about things like that, but I'll help you prepare for them."

They drank their elf berry lemonade and went their separate ways afterwards. Back in bed, Dobby put Harry in a charmed sleep and only woke him when their departure to Gringotts was imminent.

oOo

"This is super uncomfortable," Harry told the goblins in the ritual chamber and frowned. While the blood letting and signing of contracts had taken hours, it was still better than standing in a huge ritual chamber and freezing his bits off. "Do I have to be starkers?"

"For the last cleanse before the ritual, yes. We've been over this. Twice," Healer Spleenbash told him unapologetically. "Please shed the robe and step into the cystern, Heir Potter."

"Why are you all in here, anyway?" he groused. "Where's Brady?"

"It's not appropriate for a human adult male to supervise this procedure when there are other options available," Healer Spleenbash informed Harry tartly. "Now stop tarrying and get on with it, youngling. We're on a schedule."

Pouting, Harry handed his robe to Dobby and quickly did as he was told. "I still don't like it."

"You can growl about it later," she called over the sudden rush of the magical mist. "Relax and let the magic do its work."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the almost pulling sensation in his scar which was answered by a long-lasting, stabbing pain. Sorry, you won't be able to get this taint out, he thought at the magic. Nice try, though. I really felt that.

The mist swished around him almost smugly and soon after dissipated.

"That didn't take long at all. Good! You may paint the runes," Healer Spleenbash called to her colleagues.

Half a dozen goblins swarmed around Harry and tortured him with tickling brushes until his whole body was covered in blood red magical symbols. While they were at it, they were chanting something in their language. The whole thing was so absurd that Harry quite forgot to feel ashamed.

When it was done and all of the paint had magically dried in a flash, Healer Spleenbash allowed Harry to don a robe so delicate that the fabric might as well have been woven from spider silk. "Now come into the circle. Everything is ready."

The goblin healers helped Harry lie down on the floor. It was cushioned with magic and felt like the softest bed imaginable. Having the goblin version of an immobilus charm then cast on him felt very uncomfortable in contrast, although Harry had known about that in advance, too.

"Relax, youngling. All will be well." Healer Spleenbash gently touched his hair once and retreated to her place in the circle.

An old goblin, the leader of the ritual, spoke in the harsh sounding goblin language. Abruptly, the torches flared and then flickered until the light became very dim. More words followed, echoing in the chamber in a seemingly endless chant.

Not being able to turn his head, Harry could nonetheless see the magic rise from the runes in golden sparks. They whirled around as if dancing in the wind and slowly collected in a pool not unlike a little sun right over his body.

Here it comes, he thought as the goblin chant reached a crescendo and the light above him started to writhe and pulse. Time to go, Tom!

The little sun shivered, went still ... and then a bright beam burst forth, right down onto Harry's forehead.

He knew himself to be screaming, but for that short moment of consciousness there was nothing but a certain sense of bewilderment, like he'd gone on without any of his body's sensations.

Then, everything went dark.

oOo

Harry awoke to the not so strange feeling of someone holding his hand and stroking it gently. He had plenty of experiece with Hermione doing just that as he recovered from his adventures at Hogwarts.

"Hey kiddo," a rough voice greeted him. "Don't try to find your glasses. The healers said your eyes need a break."

From Harry's other side, Healer Williams' voice said, "Just relax, Harry. Everything went well. Voldemort's shade put up a fight, but it is gone now. All you need to do now is sleep."

The stroking thumb never lost its rhythm and Harry felt himself sink back into slumber.

oOo

When he woke again, he felt much better. Both his hands were free, and after finding his glasses, he instantly recognized the man sleeping in an armchair by his bedside.

"Sirius?" he whispered, half afraid of waking his godfather and actually having to talk to him.

"Let him sleep," Healer Williams advised. "He's still very weak."

"Why is he here?" Harry asked.

"Apparently his godparent bond with you alerted him that something magically monumental was happening. He called for Dobby until your elf went to get him." Williams sighed. "He made himself nearly sick with worry. Stupid of us not to take his connection to you into account."

Drowsy, Harry studied his godfather. Despite the exhaustion and greyness marring his face, he was uncommonly handsome. "He's young."

"Only thirty-three," Williams confirmed quietly. "The same age your parents would be, had they lived."

"Can I hold his hand?" Harry could barely take his eyes off the man to look beseechingly at Healer Williams.

"Of course. He won't mind. Here, I'll push him a little closer to the bed ..."

"Will he really be fine?" Harry asked, grasping the too-thin fingers like a lifeline.

"He'll need a lot of councelling when the work on his body is finished," Williams said kindly and a little sadly. "Losing years like that is deeply traumatic, so please don't hold it against him if he gets irrational or angry or scared. It's not his fault, okay?"

"I know that. It's alright." Harry fought against the sting of tears in his eyes. "I just wish none of this had ever happened."

"A lot of people do." Williams patted Harry's shoulder, handed him a potion to drink and then left him alone to rest some more.

oOo

Every time Harry woke, it became easier. He felt a little unbalanced and his magic was wobbly when he tried to charm his bedside lamp to shine a little more brightly. This was greatly made up by the fact that he and his godfather apparently clicked really well and talk between them came effortlessly.

"You need a new wand," Sirius told him. He sat at the end of Harry's bed and had one hand on Harry's socked foot. He never was far away, which clearly soothed his ravaged spirit. "Brother wand to the Dark Lord, only you're no longer his brother, are you?"

These words, right there, did a lot to lift Harry's somewhat maudling spirits. "I guess you're right. But if I buy a new one at Ollivander's, people will surely know." Harry frowned. "I don't want people sticking their nose in my business."

Sirius grinned. "You sound just like your mother. She disliked people questioning her. Intensely."

"Where else can I get a new wand?"

"There are wand makers all over the world, kiddo," Sirius said. "France, Ireland, Spain, Italy ... it's a matter of preference, really, because they all know what they're doing. But why don't you nib down to your family vault first and have a look at your family's wands? There's quite a collection."

"I can't," Harry scowled. "Dumbledore has barred me from entering until I'm of age."

Sirius' smile vanished and his scowl was even fiercer than Harry's. "I didn't know that. But nevermind the old codger; I have a vault or two of my own and a lot of wands to choose from. There might just be a good fit among them."

"Are you strong enough for that?" Harry asked anxiously. "I don't want you to set your recovery back even more because of me."

A heartbreaking expression came over Sirius' face. "I gave up on you once, I won't do it again. I have to be by your side."

"Because of magic?" Harry wanted to know in a small voice.

"Yes. Because I've loved you more than even your parents ever since your father put you in my arms," Sirius replied hoarsely. "I swore an oath to always protect you and care for you and nothing, nothing at all, has changed on my end. I love you, even if I don't know you very well yet, and I need to make it right."

Harry wiped at his damp eyes and sniffed. "You're doing fine so far."

"Can I have a hug?" Sirius asked hopefully, his grey eyes just as wet as Harry's.

Instead of giving an answer, Harry scrambled over and wound his arms tightly around the man's ribcage. Sirius was still thin, but slowly the grey tinge to his skin was vanishing and there was some strength to his embrace.

For a long while, they just sat and held each other, basking in the feel of their magic and renewing the bond that had been strained for more than a decade.

oOo

It took another half day of rest and potions but Harry was finally cleared to leave the healers' wing. Sirius, insisting that he was fine but agreeing to Healer Williams' presence just in case, took Harry on a long cart ride through Gringotts' tunnel system and made a show of opening his vault door. He introduced Harry as his heir to the family magics which was a wild experience in itself, though not as harrowing as it apparently could have been.

"You've got no Black blood in you by birth, however, I kind of blood adopted you in addition to swearing the godfather oath," Sirius explained, a little shiftily, "so it's not like the family magic could actually snub you, pup. Welcome to the Dog Cave!" He gestured at the vast, overflowing vault. The goblin with them respectfully stayed by the cart, although his little eyes were lit up. "Whatever you need, I probably have it ... somewhere among all the gold. No, wait, don't talk to the portraits, those do not bring anyone any joy ..." Sirius left Healer Williams standing outside the vault and wandered to a heavy wooden chest. After looking inside, he beckoned Harry over. "Here they are. Wands from generations of cunning and bloodthirsty witches and wizards. Have fun!"

Harry tried not to look too often at Sirius harassing the mentioned portraits as he picked up one wand after the other, although their outraged squawks were very funny. Unfortunately, most wands remained disdainfully still in his hand, although a few reacted with jerks and even sparks. None of them felt completely right, however, which was disappointing.

"Hey, I just wondered whether Lord Black might visit the Potter vaults," Williams called from his spot by the door after Harry had put the last wand back. "Might be worth investigating."

"Clever and handsome," Sirius praised, carelessly throwing a tarp over the stack of complaining portraits. "We'll do that right now, if our goblin guide agrees."

The goblin saw no issue with this, but Harry, mindful of his godfather's weak constitution, decided to ask the healer among them before agreeing. "Can we, Brady? I don't mind waiting a little while if it's better for Sirius."

"The Potter vaults aren't far from here," Williams replied, "and their security won't do him any harm if he's not permitted to enter. If it doesn't work right away, there's also the option of going through the account managers. Magic might accept him if the goblins' legal team decrees it so. There is just one thing ... the Potter family magic might interact greatly with you both. It might be overwhelming. Lord Black, are you certain that you want to do this now? There is still time before school starts."

"I won't wait," Sirius said. "My kid needs a working wand and I ... I need to say goodbye."

"Think carefully about it, Lord Black. It might hurt you badly emotionally," Williams urged.

"Maybe it will." Sirius' eyes were hard and his mouth unsmiling. "I'll deal with it. It's no less than I deserve."

"Lord Black ..."

"Save it, Healer Williams. Let's go."

Sirius wasn't well in body, but he certainly was eager to get going. Even Harry recognized the coping mechanism behind it and once more felt awful for the man. Still, he was excited and a bit apprehensive about sort of meeting his family through their magic.

"It's completely normal to feel conflicted," Healer Williams murmured as they followed Harry's godfather and their guide through the tunnel. "I think it'll be a good experience for you; Dumbledore should have allowed you to connect with your family magic much sooner."

"Here we are," Sirius called. "Our vaults are practically neighbours, Harry."

That made Harry smile.

"Go, stand by him and let him guide you," Williams said and gave Harry a gentle push. "Remember, your family loved you very much, the magic won't hurt you."

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry pressed against Sirius' side and gratefully accepted his godfather's arm around his shoulders. "What do we do now?"

"We're saying hello," Sirius said, voice sounding a little strangled. "Brace yourself."

Together, they stepped forward and put their hands flat against the massive door of the vault. Immediately, magic flared up and enveloped them both in the kind of embrace that made eyes tear up and hearts skip a beat or two. Love like nothing Harry had ever felt before flooded him, reaching into every part of him, body, mind, and soul. It seemed to swirl around his scar for a moment before bursting and showering both him and Sirius in pretty golden sparks.

Harry began to cry in earnest, clutching his grief-stricken godfather. Both their legs gave out and they sank to the ground.

"Oh dear," Healer Williams murmured and approached carefully. "I'm sorry."

"N-not your fault," Harry stammered and tried to stem the flood of tears. "I'm not sad."

"I am," Sirius rasped. Keeping one arm tightly around Harry and stretching with the other, he touched the door again. "I'm so sorry, Prongs and Lils."

"We should go back," Healer Williams said gently. "Let's stop for today."

"No." Sirius rubbed his wet cheeks with his sleeves. "We're here, we will do this. I'm sad, not an idiot. I might not be able to do this again."

"Really?" Harry asked. "We don't have to. I'll find a wand somewhere."

"You'll find it here," Sirius countered with conviction. "After this welcome, there's no way your family won't provide for you, pup. Come, let's give it a try. I, Sirius Orion Black, godparent of Harry James Potter, ask for admittance in our heir's time of need."

The magic heaved up again, tangible against their skin and pressing on their minds. Obviously finding what it was looking for, it retreated and the heavy door clanked, signalling that Sirius was welcome to enter. He did so on unsteady legs and with the look of a beaten dog with his tail between its legs.

"It's unfair that you can't enter, but Lord Black will get what you need," Healer Williams consoled Harry. "See, he left the door open as far as it will go so you can have a look."

Carefully, Harry stepped forward. Behind the impenetrable door lay riches beyond his wildest dreams. Not just gold, although there were mountains over mountains of it, but books - journals and photo albums by the look of it - and quite a few portraits.

He was distracted from searching for his parents by Sirius' shout.

"I have about half a dozen wands here! I'll get them and your family grimoire." Moments later, Sirius was back, arms full and cheeks again a little wet. "Let's do this somewhere more comfortable, yeah?"

Harry took the wands from him, grabbed his hand and helped his distraught godfather back to the healers' wing.

"Harry, would it be alright if I stayed with Lord Black while you test the wands?" Healer Williams asked quietly. "I'd like to talk to him for a bit until his mind healer arrives."

"Yes, of course." Harry smiled bravely. "I'll stay right here."

"Thank you. I'll try to be back soon, but call for Dobby or Betty if you need company, alright?"

Once he was alone, Harry spread the seven wands out on his comforter and looked at them. Most were made from dark wood, with very little adornments. One had a crystal embedded in its tip and the only light coloured wand was a little curved and looked like the maker had found a random stick, sanded it until it was smooth, and then sold it as a wand.

Harry took it up first and waved it a little, and while there were a few sparks, there was no connection. The wand with the crystal reacted strongly - too strongly. Harry decided to keep an eye on that one and maybe try again in a couple of years or so, when he had more experience as a wizard. Two of the dark wands didn't react at all, one rolled over in defiance, but the sixth wand sprang to life with a hum and shower of multi-coloured sparks. It even grew warm in Harry's hand.

"You seem nice," Harry said with a smile. "Let's try ... lumos!" Immediately, a bright light flared from the wand's tip, illuminating the room. "Nox." Abruptly, the light vanished. "Accio pillow."

Harry tried at least two dozen of spells until he was satisfied that the wand was truly a good fit for him. Carefully, he set his holly wand next to the new one. The colour and shape weren't terribly different, but they were noticable enough to worry him.

"What should I do now?" he wondered aloud. "I could break you, but that'd be a waste, and also unfair. It's not your fault you're not working out so well for me anymore." Carefully, he stroked along the glossy wood. "Do you have any ideas?"

Of course the wand didn't have an answer for him. His steward, however, did ... after he'd scared the bejeezus out of Harry with his knock at the door.

"Ah, I see that you've already found a new wand," Sharptooth said. He settled in the bedside chair and grinned. "Well, that's one less thing for us to worry about, especially since there's no ministry trace on the wand. You could do magic in the muggle world with it."

"Really? That's wicked!" Harry beamed, only to return to his worried frown. "But what do I do with the old wand? It doesn't like me much anymore but giving it back to Ollivander would alert Professor Dumbledore."

Sharptooth hummed in understanding. "If I may offer a suggestion?"

"Sure, sir," Harry said gratefully.

"Do not do away with your old wand, Heir Potter. Keep it and use it at school."

"I won't get good grades with it," Harry replied, a little indignantly. "I don't want Sirius to be disappointed. Or, uh, Hermione."

"Lord Black would be the first to suggest this exact thing," Sharptooth said. "Can you not guess why?"

"Uhm, well, other than being teased by Malfoy and his friends about being incompetent ... oooh." Harry brightened. "You think people should underestimate me?"

"It'd be a good layer of protection," the goblin said approvingly. "Everybody expects Harry Potter to be an above average student at the very least. Not being seen as very magically competent might take some pressure off you in the long run, and even buy you some time from the Dark Lord's machinations. The deception would have the added benefit of stimulating your magical core to grow faster. Needing more effort to do magic would vastly build up your reserve and enable you to use more magic with your true wand."

"Sounds good." Harry grinned. "People don't think much of me anyway after the Heir of Slytherin business last year. It'll be nice to be left alone."

Chuckling, Sharptooth stood. "That's a plan, then, youngling. Send your elf to buy a top of the line wand holster. He may use Ollivander's for that purchase as it is expected of wizards to get one eventually. Yours should at least be spelled against theft and summoning charms, be able to make itself invisible, and also have a quick draw mechanism. Ask Dobby to bring a catalogue and have a good look before choosing. These holsters are built to last and you'll want one to suit your needs for many years."

Harry nodded and scribbled Sharptooth's directions on his notepad. "Uhm, can I go home tomorrow? Healer Spleenbash didn't say when I saw her last."

"I'll ask. Don't move until I get back," the goblin replied, got up and left the room.

Harry spent the time he was gone with his new wand, reapplying the mosquito repelling charm and using a washing charm on himself because there was vault dust everywhere.

Finally, Sharptooth returned with a note in hand. Without preamble, he said, "You may leave tonight, youngling, but no gallivanting around the country and lots of rest." Sharptooth's beady eyes fell on the wand in Harry's hand. "Also, use as little magic as possible to overcome the magical exhaustion you suffered during the ritual. A list of potions has been sent to your house elves, they'll hand them out as directed."

"Er, what does Healer Spleenbash mean by not gallivanting around?" Harry asked.

"She means that there is to be no strenuous activity for three or four more days. Bed rest would be preferable, but she knows how unlikely that'll be. Therefore she's instructed your house elves to discourage forays away from your cottage."

"Oh no." Harry's face fell. "I wanted to meet Hermione tomorrow. I suppose I could cancel, but I was really looking forward to it."

Sharptooth sighed. "Wooing a female couldn't wait a couple more weeks, Heir Potter?"

"I'm not wooing her ... and also, it just happened," Harry retorted with a blush. "I can see her, right?"

"You may see whoever you like," Sharptooth assured him, "but in this circumstance it'll require much ... juggling. Your safety, you see. Inviting Miss Granger to your property, because that's where a meeting will happen if it happens at all, has a host of problems attached to it. Dumbledore being the largest of them, of course, but by no means the very worst right this moment."

"Yes, I know. How can we do it?"

"Hmmm." The goblin crossed his arms in front of his chest and pursed his lips. "I have an idea, but I'll have to talk it over with the rental agreement division. Wait here."

And he was off again, leaving a bewildered but hopeful Harry in his room.

Dobby's dinner had come and gone and Harry was almost finished with his Arithmancy school book when Sharptooth returned. He had Healer Williams and another goblin in tow who looked just as old as Sharptooth himself and was introduced as Kickfast. Harry offered the usual greetings, eager to know what Gringotts had come up with.

"Heir Potter, your rather unique situation has my department in an uproar," Kickfast said dryly. "My lawyers are salivating over the artistics required to make things happen for you."

"Er, that is good, I hope?"

Kickfast snorted. "Very good. They haven't been challenged like this for a while and as you are a Friend To The Nation, every effort was made to find a solution to your dilemma."

"You have found one, then?" Harry asked, cautiously hopeful.

"It'll require quite a bit of trust on your part and a lot of signatures but yes, we've found one." Kickfast conjured a bed table, hopped up onto the bedside chair and spread out two rolls of parchment that were immediately recognizable as contracts. "There were several angles to consider, of course, first of all your and your friend's safety. While Potter Cottage is very secure, the knowledge of it currently is not. Miss Granger's mind would be easy to violate, and while she wouldn't be able to provide any specifics to an interested legilimens, it's best to avoid detection altogether."

"I agree," Harry hastily agreed, feeling sick at the mention of someone going through Hermione's head. "How do we do that?"

"Well, in the end the solution is astonishingly simple, and rather elegant for that," Kickfast said with a shark-like grin. "How do you feel about renting Potter Cottage to Gringotts for a day, and us renting it to Healer Williams?"

Harry couldn't help it, he started to laugh until he was crying and his sides hurt.

"Y-you're the g-greatest," he hiccoughed when he'd calmed down a bit. "I, or rather Sharptooth, I guess, will rent it out for five galleons."

"And we'll rent it to Healer Williams for ten," Kickfast countered with a sly grin. "It is a rather attractive property, after all."

Harry dried his eyes with his comforter and took a deep breath. "Yes, it is. Maybe I should charge Sirius, after all."

The goblins laughed gutturally and then, after making sure that Harry was actually okay with all of it, proceeded to go over the rental agreements with a fine tooth comb. Starting at nine o'clock that evening, Gringotts would rent the Cottage in full, subletting it to Healer Williams for twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes, who would then invite Harry and his guests over.

"I know it's cheeky to ask but ... would it be okay to sleep in one of your guest rooms tonight?" Williams asked when everything was signed and the cuts from the bloodquill healed. "It's so calm there."

"Brady ..." Harry was at a loss what to say. "You rented it. You actually paid ten galleons so I could see Hermione tomorrow. You can sleep in any room you like! Dobby will even make up the master bedroom if you want, and cook whatever you'd like to eat."

"That's very generous, but I wouldn't want to presume ..."

"It's yours for a day," Harry repeated. "I insist. Also, I'll stay here tonight anyway, so you have the house to yourself. Make use of it, yeah?"

Williams let out a breath. "Thank you, Harry. When will you and your guest arrive tomorrow?"

"I thought around three for tea," Harry said. "Dobby should be back with Hermione's answer any moment. We won't stay too long and I already told Dobby to pack up the trampoline and the other stuff just before we arrive. Hermione notices everything and I don't want her and her parents to become suspicious."

"Do you really want to return to Gringotts afterward for one more night?" Williams asked. "You could just stay behind, you know that."

"Or you could have the house for another night as my guest," Harry replied with a smile. "It's honestly okay. I'd like to spend the evening with Sirius before I go back, and you know that I can't take him with me just yet. His healers would never allow it."

"Next year, they will," Williams promised. "He's doing well, and he wants to get better. What he did today set him back in many ways, but in others it might have done him some good."

"He's really sad," Harry acknowledged and frowned. "I feel sorry for him."

"He'll be really sad for a while yet," Williams said. "But he's got you, and he did what he set out to do when he broke out of Azkaban."

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious. "I mean, he wasn't really after me, was he?"

Williams smiled a little. "No, he wasn't. But let's wait a while before we discuss this, alright? You've got a date tomorrow and you need your sleep." He looked at his watch. "Also, my lease just started so I'd better go and make the most of it."

Harry grinned. "Betty knows to pamper you, Brady. Don't resist, it's futile."

"I won't. Thank you, again, Harry. Sleep well."

Healer Williams left and after wishing his exhausted and still tearful godfather goodnight, Harry snuggled into his comforter and fell asleep immediately.

oOo

The Grangers met Harry at three on the dot in Sharptooth's office at Gringotts. Dobby surreptitiously harvested Hermione's magical signature before taking her and Harry to the cottage. Under the pretense of needing the loo, Harry paid the ward stone in the cellar a quick visit and told it that his guests were welcome on this occasion. Sharptooth's warning about being too free with his passes had made Harry a little sad, but he accepted that his security and his secrets had to come first.

Hermione's parents were already there, admiring his living room and the view at the garden when he came back.

"This house is also beautiful, Gringotts sure knows how to please its customers," Emma said. She enveloped Harry in a gentle hug. "Hello dear, it's nice to see you again."

Harry blushed and smiled. "Thank you Emma, you too. Hello, Dan." He shook hands with the man. Only then did he allow himself to really look at Hermione. She looked unusally pretty in a white form-fitting summer dress that stopped a good bit above her knees. Unlike his own knobbly knees, hers were shapely and fit perfectly to her well-trained but slim legs. "Hi, 'Mione. You look pretty."

"Thank you." She smiled and hugged him closely. "I like your new T-shirt. Black suits you very well. You got a good tan!"

He noticed and put his arm next to hers. "Oh, yeah. Wicked!"

Betty popped up and smiled at them all. "Hello Harry Potter sir and Harry Potter sir's Grangeys! Tea be ready for you." She led them to the already set table right in front of the garden window. "Betty be hoping you'll be liking it. Betty be making everything today."

Dan's smile was a little bemused while Emma was openly amused about the elf's name for her family.

"Thank you, Betty," Harry said with a little flush. Minding his manners, he pulled a chair out for both Emma and Hermione before sitting down himself. "How do you like your tea?"

Off to a good start, the visit got even better when Hermione nudged Harry's foot under the table in thanks for a scone and the clotted cream and didn't take it away until they left the table again almost an hour later. He was embarrassed at how scatterbrained the little contact made him, but it also was everything he'd hoped for: another date with his best friend!

"It's a pity that Gringotts doesn't rent out a library," Emma commented, walking along the empty bookshelves. "But I suppose that someone who stays longer would bring their own books."

"Er, yeah," Harry answered awkwardly. "I mean, I could've put my school books in there but it honestly wouldn't have looked much better."

"Not even Hermione's books would fill these," Dan laughed. "Don't worry, we're just bibliophiles, Harry, and these shelves are a work of art. It just would've been nice to see them in all their glory."

"I know what you mean," Harry admitted.

"Speaking of books, I can't believe it's only one more week until we buy our books!" Hermione exclaimed. "And we're on the express only a few days later. The summer's been gone so quickly."

"I know, and I don't want you to leave already," her mother sighed. "Especially with what's been happening in that school so far."

"Well, we're bound to have a normal year at least once," Harry offered.

Hermione smacked his arm. "Shut it, Harry James. I just managed to convince them to not send me to Beaubatons instead."

"Er, what?" Alarmed, Harry's eyes shot to Dan. "Really?"

"Well, we did think about it," he replied, his face kind but his voice stern. "We nearly lost our daughter twice because of magical beasts in the last two years. A normal school year would be much appreciated. We told Professor McGonagall this and she swore that she and her fellow professors would do everything in their power to protect the students better. We'll see how it works out."

"Would you really leave Hogwarts?" Harry asked, heart in his throat.

"For my parents, I would," Hermione admitted. "But ... but I'd always write you letters and nag you to study, so it would be like I was still there."

"No, it wouldn't," Harry replied stubbornly and took her hand in his. "Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without you."

She smiled, obviously pleased, and shuffled closer to him. "I really don't want to leave, either."

"Then let's hope that Professor McGonagall makes good on her word and actually does something to improve the security," Emma said. Her speculative gaze rested on Harry. "On the other hand, if it gets worse, you could always leave Hogwarts and enroll in another school. Maybe all the students should do this, to bring the point home."

"Er, yeah. Maybe." Harry averted his gaze. "Uhm, do you want to see the garden? It stopped raining finally."

The Grangers were just as grateful for the opportunity to get some air as Harry and left him and Hermione alone for their little ramble.

"I'm sorry, that was some heavy stuff," Hermione said as they stood looking at the garden in front of the house. "I don't want to leave, Harry. I hope you know that." Shyly, she glanced at him, her fingers still in his hand. "It's just that I can't worry my parents. They do everything for me and I love them too much."

"That's alright," Harry replied quietly. "I understand, of course I do."

"If it ever comes to that ... you could leave as well. Maybe ... maybe even come with me?"

Harry couldn't hide his little flinch from her. "I would, if I could. I mean, who wants to be a target for Voldemort, anyway?"

"There's a but in there, somewhere," Hermione said with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. "What is it, Harry?"

He didn't want to tell her, didn't want to worry her, but she was here and she was so lovely in her concern for him, and Harry was tired of trying to keep everything to himself.

"Did you know that Professor Dumbledore is my magical guardian?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked perplexed. "What? How? Professor McGonagall is mine, she arranged it with my parents. They signed a contract and everything. She said she does that for all the muggle-born students, it's part of her job as Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress."

"I didn't get a contract," Harry continued, not bothering to hide his bitterness about it. "You see, I could have had a godfather all this time. We could have lived together and I'd have known about ..." He gesticulated helplessly. "The wizarding world. Voldemort. Everything."

"Why couldn't you?" Hermione gripped his hand tighter.

"My godfather is Sirius Black," Harry told her, lips pressing together when she blanched. "Yeah, that's why Dumbledore appointed himself as my guardian."

"And he left you with the Dursleys?" she shrieked. "Those horrible people! Did he even check up on you?"

"Not that I know of. Even if he did, obviously nothing changed," Harry mumbled. "He says I'm safest there, what with Voldemort around, so he would never let me leave Hogwarts. I'd have to run, but I don't want to do that. I like having friends."

Hermione gave up Harry's hand to embrace him. "This is terrible. I can't believe Dumbledore of all people left you to rot with your relatives! There must be something you can do about it!"

"I'll try." Harry snaked his arms around her shoulders in a bid to calm her down. "Until then, I'll just have to make sure that Hogwarts is safe for you."

"It's not your job," Hermione fumed. Her hair was especially fluffy in her fury and smelled faintly of ozone.

"Someone's got to do it, and we know already that we can't always rely on the grown-ups," Harry said with a wry little grin. "I'll do extra work in Defence against the Dark Arts, and if you want, you can teach me how to fight muggle style. Then we're already two against whatever will be after us this year."

"I'll teach you so hard, Harry James," she huffed into his neck. "Under one condition, though: you have to punch Dumbledore in the throat! That terrible old git deserves it! The Dursleys, urgh!"

The image was so funny that Harry couldn't help but laugh, causing Hermione to relax a little. "As soon as the opportunity presents itself," he promised.

"Then it's a deal." The tension left her shoulders and she leaned fully against Harry, tucking her face into his neck even though she was a bit taller than him.

Harry couldn't believe how good she felt. It wasn't just her body, although what little of it he was allowed to touch certainly felt great. No, it was her whole presence that made him giddy and ridiculously happy, unfortunate conversation topic aside.

And she smells so good, Harry thought, guiltily inhaling the sweet scent of her hair and skin. I wonder if she'd let me buy her an ice cream next week.

Figuring that he had little to lose, Harry wrapped her more tightly in his arms. As a light rain started to fall, it seemed like the right thing to do ... and her slight curves against his chest were certainly a fantastic reward. What looking at her in a bikini hadn't quite managed, her closeness did effortlessly. His heart thumped in his chest and he was almost certain that hers was beating a little faster, too.

"I'd like to go out with you, on a real date," he said quietly. Her soft gasp encouraged him enough to add, "We could eat ice cream at Fortesque's, or have lunch somewhere."

"Yes," she whispered. "That would be nice."

Blinking, Harry couldn't believe his luck. "Wow. I'm, uh, rather happy right now." Said happiness was surging all through him, in fact, and choking him up a little.

Hermione laughed quietly. "Me, too. I feel a little silly."

A little later, when Dobby had brought them all back to Gringotts, Emma and Dan were smiling when Hermione informed them that she wanted to spend an hour or so alone with Harry on Saturday.

"We'll find something to do," Dan said. "Just be careful and don't run off too far."

"Dobby will watch over us," Harry said, earning an excited little dance from his friend. "He's the best."

"Yes, he is," Emma agreed and smiled at the elf. "He'll also know when to remind you of your surroundings, right?"

"Mom!" Hermione blushed fiercely. "We won't snog in Diagon Alley."

"I'm sorry, lad," Dan said with a deep sigh and a pat on Harry's back, which had both his wife and daughter exclaiming in indignation.

Harry could only smile, and even though he was sad to have to let the Grangers go so soon, he had plenty to look forward to.

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said under the watchful eyes of her parents and one curious goblin manager and bravely kissed Harry's cheek. "See you next week!"

"See you, 'Mione," Harry replied stupidly.

Then, Dobby took the Grangers home and Harry trotted after his guide, right into his godfather's room, where he burrowed into welcoming arms and just wallowed in his overwhelming feelings.

oOo

Being home alone wasn't much fun anymore. Having done all of his homework and with the weather taking a rather brisk turn towards autumn, even his trampoline and broom couldn't capture his attention during the last week of the holidays. At least Dobby's garden was coming along nicely. The little plants valiantly fought for height and spread their small leaves to capture every available sunray. Harry enjoyed it a lot to walk along the narrow paths and check on them, greeting each new growth with enthusiasm.

"They be wanting to be good for Harry Potter sir," Dobby said. "They be liking the soil and the space."

Betty, who was working on the mushroom tree trunk, called, "Elf berry bushes be grown by Yule. Then they be sleeping until Beltane. After that, they be growing lots and lots of berries."

"That's great! I didn't know it would happen so fast. I'll have to come home for Easter to allow the garden gnomes in so they can loosen the soil." With new excitement, Harry petted the little plant in front of him. "Once the big garden is ready, your offshoots will have plenty of room to grow."

Underneath his fingers, the small leaves shivered a little.

"Harry Potter sir be looking at apple trees now," Dobby urged and tugged him across the garden. "There be one apple. It be blessing from magic."

The small, pretty fruit high up on a slender branch was innocent looking, but to Harry it symbolized everything they had worked for this summer. Dobby and Betty would be cared for, as would Sirius. This was his home now, and it would provide for all of them. He was certain of that.

"So, when will you get the chickens?" Harry wanted to know.

"Dobby still be looking for good hens," the elf said. "Dobby be thinking that five or six be enough for now."

"Maybe you could find rescue chickens," Harry said thoughtfully. "There must be chickens that aren't wanted anymore. There was an article in the newspaper once about how badly animals are treated."

"Muggles not be knowing how to do it right," Dobby muttered. A bit louder, he said, "Dobby could find chickens. They probably not be laying many eggs."

"I know." Harry shrugged. "My relatives think I'm worthless, too. Doesn't mean it's true, right? Also, we don't need many eggs, but we could offer them a nice home."

"Like Harry Potter sir did for poor Dobby and Betty," Betty said, popping up next to Harry. "Betty be liking the idea."

"See? I bet they'd be cheaper, too, or even free." Harry was distracted by Hedwig's majestic glide over the property. "Hey, where are you coming from, girl?"

Hedwig landed on a low-hanging branch and offered her leg to Harry. A small parcel had been tied to it and the magic surrounding it told them that Sirius had sent it. Dobby checked for dark spells anyway, just because he could, and then enlarged the package for Harry.

"A journal," he said a bit bemused after removing the wrapping paper. "He does know that my last experience with one wasn't very good, right?"

There was a letter to go with the journal, tucked into the pages.

Hey Pup,

Yes, I know, journals aren't really your thing, but this one is special. It's a two-way journal, meaning that we can write messages and receive them instantly. Its pages won't run out and I slapped a dozen or so security spells on it to keep nosy old men and their little spies out. I added instructions for a blood ward, so you'd best do that before we start writing in it.

I'm looking forward to hearing about your school year, hopefully a quiet one for once!

I love you, take care,

Sirius

The easy admission of his godfather's regard made Harry a little fumbly. Thankfully Betty was there to catch the precious journal for him.

"Harry Potter sir be wanting to write in new journal," she squeaked and handed it back. "Dogfather be very good to Harry Potter sir."

"Yes, he is." Harry smiled, the warmth in his chest tingling and writhing like a little happy snake. "Thanks for showing me your apple, it's lovely. I'll have to tell Sirius about it."

Both elves flushed with pleasure before popping back to their tasks. Harry went into the house, settled at the table by the garden window and read the instructions for the blood ward. It was easy enough: prick the thumb, press the blood drop into the family seal on the leather binding, and recite the incantation. Harry was done ten minutes later, proud as punch to have managed on his first try.

Opening the journal, he set the tip of his biro onto the page, only briefly wondering whether he should be using a quill and ink. In the end, he decided that it was his journal, and if he wanted to use muggle writing utensils, he could.

August 26th, 1993

Hello Sirius,

Thanks for the awesome gift! It arrived when I was visiting the garden. Dobby and Betty showed me the first apple on our new trees; I didn't think anything would grow for at least a year. It's small, but it's completely red and looks like it will taste delicious when it's ripe. Maybe I should buy a camera. It seems like a good moment to capture.

I just realized yesterday that Dobby and Betty call you my dogfather. And you called your vault the Dog Cave. What's that all about? Are you secretly a superhero? Are you Dog Man or Super Dog or something like that?

I'm looking forward to telling you about Hogwarts as well. Maybe we'll get a good teacher for Defence this year, that would be nice. I guess it would be too much to aks for Professor Binns to retire, although we're all bored to tears in his class. I wish I could take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, but Dumbledore won't let me. Brady - Healer Williams - said that I can appeal his decision and I'll do that as soon as I have a chance to speak with Professor McGonagall. Wish me luck!

How are you doing? Are you ready to move into the cottage next week, or will you stay a little longer at Gringotts, after all? Whatever you decide, let me know so I can come and visit you before I leave for school.

Love,

Harry

Harry tried not to think too much about signing his entry that way. It seemed early to feel that way about his godfather, but if Sirius could love him as a baby, he was sure he could love him after only knowing him for a week or two.

To distract himself from these confusing thoughts, he called for Dobby and asked about buying a camera. To his immense surprise, the former owner had actually left an old model in the attic. Dobby got it for him, cleaned it up with a snap of his fingers, and helped Harry figure out how to use it. Now being stalked by Colin Creevey actually came in handy.

"Let's take a picture of the house," Harry said eagerly. "I want to show Sirius when I see him on Sunday."

Harry snapped his picture, but he also asked Dobby and Betty to pose with him for a family snapshot. At last, he photographed the small apple.

"Now we only have to find out how to develop the pictures," Harry said.

"Betty be knowing," Betty said, bouncing a little. "Betty be doing that now!"

With a flash of magic, the camera vanished from Harry's hands.

"Er, thank you!" Harry called after her.

Dobby took his hand and led him to the sofa in the living room. "Harry Potter sir be needing his rest now. It be cool outside, Dobby be starting a fire."

Snuggled in a blanket and plied with tea and bisquits, Harry flipped through the Ancient Runes textbook. It was interesting to learn about the runes that had been used in the cystern and on Healer Spleenbash's pensieve, but that was immediately forgotten when his journal flashed once, indicating a new message within.

August 26th, 1993

Hey pup,

I'm glad you like it. Your father, two other friends, and I developed the charms, so it is one of a kind. With all the security spells in place, it's hopefully a safe way to communicate. Your owl is lovely and very competent, but she could get hurt if somebody found out that you're writing to me.

I'm fine, much better than the healers thought I'd be, truth be told, so I'll move as planned. I guess it did help to meet your family again, if only in magic. I'll still miss them terribly, and be sad often, but knowing that they don't hate me for my failure ... it's everything.

What's this about the headmaster not approving your electives? I've never heard of such a thing, even if he is your magical guardian; it's good of you to appeal to the board of govenors. Tell me how it went, and raise a proper stink about it while you're at it. Involve the goblins if you must; your education is a matter of your parents' will, and as it hasn't been executed, yet, I'm sure that certain responsible people will withdraw their objections quickly, or risk having it read after all.

Anyway, such things are for me to worry about, and I'll get to the bottom of it sooner or later. You just take care to have a great day on Saturday. I wish I could come with you, Diagon Alley is always worth a trip. It's a wonder you even held out that long.

I know you asked me not to ask too many questions about your date with your Hermione, but I'd love to hear how it went. However it goes, it's an important event in your life and I'd be honoured if you shared a little of it with me.

Love,

Sirius

P.S.: Your elf friends are very observant. I'll answer that particular question in person the next time I see you.

Harry scribbled a quick acknowledgement, promising to actually answer the message in full later and vowing to get Sirius a little something from the alley to cheer him up. The little drawn picture of a black doggie wagging its tail made him smile and believe that the man was actually on the mend.

Outside, it was already getting dark, time for Dobby to serve dinner. Eating on the sofa, still huddled in his blanket, was cozy and comfortable, almost decadent. A little music would have been nice, so a radio or some kind of record player went onto Harry's shopping list. Even if he couldn't use it while he was away at school, Sirius would surely appreciate it.

oOo

Saturday dawned bright and beautiful, the temperature a little higher than on the previous days. The Grangers had cajoled him into meeting them at their home, insisting on taking him out to brunch, something Emma had to explain to him, before going on to Diagon Alley.

Dobby's pop into the Granger residence was swift and the elf remained invisible as Harry greeted Hermione and her parents.

"He's in full bodyguard mode," Harry explained when Hermione asked about his absence. "I told him that he'd be welcome to visit with you, but he doesn't want to get distracted."

"He's a terribly good friend," Dan remarked. To the invisible elf he said, "Thanks, Dobby. We appreciate your help."

The trip took a while since Dan had booked a table in a restaurant in Wimbledon. The place was nice and the buffet-style served breakfast and lunch food very good, leaving everyone full to bursting when they left a good hour later.

"No lunch for me," Hermione moaned. "It'll have to be ice cream or cake, Harry."

"Fortesque's has both," he replied, patting his stomach. "I don't think I'll need dinner, either. Thanks for the invitation, Dan."

"You're welcome, Harry," Dan chuckled.

"It's always better to shop with a full stomach," Emma said and winked at the teens in the backseat. "Although that hasn't stopped Hermione from buying her weight in books before."

She grinned. "And it won't stop me today, mum." A little shyly, she opened her hand in invitation and smiled even wider when Harry took it. "Uhm, how do we do this in the alley, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, we most likely will meet people from Hogwarts, and people might stare, so if it's kind of strange to hold hands for you, we could just not do it."

Harry frowned. "But that's stupid. We're on a date, and I like holding your hand. I don't care if someone from Hogwarts knows, and I care even less about other people. Unless you don't want to?"

"No. It's alright." She smiled, her eyes bright.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive they discussed choices for supplemental texts and which sweets to stockpile for the year. Or rather, Harry knew that he'd have to stockpile, since he wouldn't be able to visit Hogsmeade.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get you everything you want from the sweet store. It's called Honeydukes and is said to have a great selection of sweets," Hermione said. "The chocolate is supposed to especially good, and I've already looked up all the tooth care charms, so don't fuss, mum."

Emma raised both hands in supplication. "A deal is a deal, but don't come crying when you gain weight."

"I won't," Hermione informed her primly. "I'll teach Harry krav maga and whatever else is good in a sticky situation. That'll keep me fit."

"Me too, I hope," Harry said. "You look amazing."

Hermione flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Harry."

Soon after, they parked and ventured toward the Leaky Cauldron. Harry stayed by Emma's side and Hermione with her father so both wouldn't have difficulty entering the old pub.

As they went through, Harry waved at the bartender but otherwise kept his head down so people wouldn't recognize him.

Hermione tapped the appropriate bricks of the wall with her wand. "It feels so good to be finally able to do magic again."

"Where do you want to go first?" Dan asked. "Should we get the robes and stuff out of the way?"

"Good idea," Hermione said. "Do you need anything, or did Dobby take care of that for you already, Harry?"

"Dobby took care of that, but I'll have a look at their gloves and scarves," Harry replied. "Maybe new boots, too. I think the expansion charms reached their limit."

"You did grow a lot this summer," Hermione agreed. "So, Gringotts first, then Madam Malkin's and the shoe shop ... and then Flourish and Blott's?"

"Sounds like a plan," Emma said, sounding almost more excited than her daughter.

Holding hands with Hermione, Harry led the Grangers through the alley. As Hermione had predicted, a lot of people stared at him and some started whispering before he had even passed them.

"I bet you a chocolate frog that this makes the headline tomorrow," Hermione muttered. "This is why I asked you, you know."

"I know, and I still don't care. And also, that's a sucker's bet, 'Mione," Harry retorted dryly. "There's Gringotts ... finally someone normal!"

The guards showed their sharp teeth as they grinned about his comment and bowed slightly. "Welcome, friend."

"Hello, nice day today!" Harry bowed back, letting Hermione and Emma enter first. "We're lucky, there's not much of a queue."

They stood in line, waiting patiently for a teller to serve them. When it was their turn, the goblin tutted at Harry.

"It's admirable that you're waiting, but it would please us if you would take your business directly to your manager, Mr. Potter. I'll inform Manager Sharptooth of your presence."

"Er, but-"

"Next!" the goblin called, leaving them no choice but to step aside and wait awkwardly.

"Someone's enjoying special treatment," Dan remarked. "Why's that?"

"The basilisk," Harry said quietly.

"Aah."

A guard came up to them and bade them to follow him. Sharptooth seemed to be only mildly surprised to see them.

"What can I help you with?" the goblin asked. "Is the money bag we sent not to your satisfaction, Mr. Potter?"

"No, everything is fine, Sharptooth. I was just accompanying the Grangers. The teller apparently thought I had business today and sent us here before we could tell him."

"Well, in that case there's no sense in wasting time. How can I help you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"

"We just need to make our annual exchange for our daughter's school things," Dan explained. "Two thousand pounds should do it."

Sharptooth hummed. "Your daughter has a vault with Gringotts now. If it pleases you, Mr. Potter, I could change the designation of the vault from trust vault to semi-active account. That way, Miss Granger's parents could deposit money in the vault and get a money bag for withdrawals. Your trust of 10.000 galleons would still be untouchable, of course, but Miss Granger would be able to use the interest."

"That's a great idea," Harry said. "Would you like me to do that for you? A money bag is like a debit card in the muggle world, and it's also secured against theft."

Dan nodded. "Yes, please. It'd save us some hassle. Although we'll still have to deposit cash, won't we?"

"Not necessarily. We're connected to a muggle bank and can set up a virtual account for your daughter. You would be able to transfer money through your own bank ... for a small fee, of course."

"What kind of fee?" Harry asked.

"For the amount Mr. Granger wants to deposit, no more than four percent," Sharptooth said smoothly.

"One," Harry countered.

"Three," Sharptooth growled.

"Two," Harry pressed. "And no more, with the money bag and bank account included, or I'll exchange their money for free."

Sharptooth gasped as if mortally wounded, but relented. "Two percent, with a complimentary bank account and the money bag at half price. Is that agreeable to you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"

"We'll take the deal," Dan said, after getting a small nod from Harry. "Thank you."

"The youngling drives a hard bargain," Sharptooth complained, "but he gained me another patron, so I'll forgive him."

Harry smiled cheekily.

Writing up the new contract took a little while as it was tailored to the Grangers' specific needs, but the signatures were done and over with soon enough. Not a moment later, the goblin messenging service spat out a piece of parchment with the banking information which Emma pocketed it with a grateful smile.

"Thank you for your help," she said. "It's a pleasure to do business with you."

Sharptooth looked decidedly smug. "Gringotts prides itself on its service. Just one more little thing before you leave ... are you, by any chance, related to a Hector Dagworth-Granger?"

Dan frowned thoughtfully. "I can't say that I've ever heard of him, but I know that there are a lot of people in my family I've never met. Why?"

"I cannot say much due to my confidentiality vows," Sharptooth replied. "Though a small inheritance test might not be amiss. The name Granger isn't very common in magical Britain."

"That's a surprise," Dan admitted."I thought we were as muggle as can be."

"Will it take long?" Emma asked with a glance at her watch. "We have quite a few things to do today."

"Not at all. It's just a drop of blood in a potion. Shall I call for the test kit?"

Dan and Emma exchanged a look, Dan then turning to Harry. "Would you do such a test, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, why not? I had no idea at all about my family before someone told me about the wizarding world, so I'd definitely want to know. In fact ... Sharptooth, can I also do the test? Will I get a family tree out of this?"

"Yes, of course. It's ten galleons apiece," the goblin said, "if you're willing to pay for it."

"You know I am. I'll also pay for Hermione's test."

"Harry, no," she protested. "You don't have to."

"I know." Harry grinned. "But it's exciting, and I kinda like doing stuff like this with you. It's rather cloak and dagger, almost like at school, only not so dangerous. Consider it my treat for our date."

"You impossible boy," she huffed but smiled back reluctantly. "That better be the last treat for today, or I'll have a really hard time returning the favour."

Harry gripped her hand tightly. "I'll like whatever we do together. It doesn't have to cost any money, you know."

"That boy has more game than you do," Emma smirked at her husband. The messenger system spat out two phials and two rolls of parchment. "Is that the potion? It shimmers like moonstone."

"That's one of the ingredients," Sharptooth said. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, please come here. Prick your finger with these sanitized knives. Allow one drop to fall into your phial and then clean your knife thoroughly. Your blood should never remain behind as it could be used in ritual or other nefarious purposes."

Not a fan of pricking his skin, Harry quickly did as told, using his new wand to clean up the small smear of blood on the blade immediately. His finger, he healed with barely a thought, as the healing charm Healer Williams had taught him was so easy.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, blood running along her left index finger. "How did you do that?"

"You're still bleeding," Harry admonished and used his wand to help her. "It's just something I picked up this summer. It's not a big deal, honestly. I'll show you the book on the train ride."

Unnoticed by them both, Sharptooth gave both phials a good shake until the contents turned lilac and then poured each over a parchment.

"Listing your inheritance will take a bit," the goblin told them. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Emma and Dan sat and accepted a cup of tea, but Hermione was barely able to suppress her curiosity.

"When did you have the opportunity to practice that spell? And how did you even get the idea to learn it? The Dursleys didn't hurt you, did they?" she demanded.

"Princess, let the poor boy breathe," Dan said gently. "I take it not saying the words while using your wand is a big deal?"

"Not for adults," Sharptooth explained. "With familiarity comes ease. Mr. Potter is merely talented in this regard."

"Still, when did you manage this? I didn't do magic all summer," Hermione insisted, her voice almost begging.

"I ... I can't tell you. Yet," Harry said. "I need to figure out how to protect us both first."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all." Hermione scowled.

"Don't push, dear," her mother warned. "It's very unattractive, and it's not your place to demand answers to begin with."

"It's alright, Emma," Harry said, giving Hermione an encouraging smile. "I'd love to tell her, and you. I just shouldn't."

"I can wait," Hermione declared with a stubborn pout.

Sharptooth, who had watched the small dispute with some amusement, cleared his throat. "The potion has finished its work. Mr. Potter, I propose discussing your results later, as there is quite a bit to go over. Miss Granger, if you'd like privacy, say so now."

"Harry can stay," she said, gripping the boy's hand tightly.

"Very well. Then please have a look at this family tree. You're indeed related to Hector Dagworth-Granger through your paternal line. Your father and his siblings are what you call squibs, as were both his father and mother, interestingly enough, although your grandmother's family is of no consequence. As none of your family have magic, aside from yourself, of course, the inheritance of Hector Dagworth-Granger falls to you, Miss Granger. Congratulations."

"Er, what?" Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. "We have a wizard in our family?"

"Your father's great-grandfather," Sharptooth confirmed. "We at Gringotts will have to read the will to find out the specifics, of course, but it's safe to say that some money will be coming your way."

"Great, then you'll have your own book budget," Dan joked. "Jesus, princess, we didn't see that coming."

"Me neither," Hermione mumbled, still in shock. "Uhm, do we read the will right now, or can we come back later?"

"Let's do it now," Emma said. "I'm so curious right now, it's killing me."

"Yes, let's," Dan agreed. "I know nothing about the man; I barely knew my grandfather. He had several mistresses and wasn't popular with any of his children."

"If you want to leave, you can," Hermione said to Harry. "I really didn't think the day would turn out like this."

"I don't think it was an accident," Harry replied, unconcerned. "Sharptooth has been in your company a few times now, I think he might've just waited for an opportunity. Goblins are clever like that."

"Thank you, youngling," Sharptooth said smugly. "It's a gift."

"You just want the gold in that vault back in circulation." Harry grinned. "Chances are good that all of it will be going through Flourish and Blott's."

"I sincerely doubt that, as there are far superior bookstores in the world." Sharptooth caught yet another roll of parchment from his messenger system. "Are you ready?" Getting the affirmation from the Grangers, he broke the seal on the scroll. "Herewith the reading of the will of Hector Dagworth-Granger begins:

January 13th, 1934

I, Hector Dagworth-Granger, sound in mind but not in body, leave all my wordly goods in equal parts to my magical progeny, irrespective of blood status or sex. As I wasn't blessed with magical children of my own, it is my hope that my grandchildren or their children will give new life to my legacy.

To support their education, I have sold everything bar my most precious books, which are entailed to the Dagworth-Granger estate. If the sprogs are anything like myself, they'll need to be challenged continuously, as I was told all my life that my brain is bigger than any other part of me. To ensure such, the money is strictly bound to the magical heirs. Non-magical relatives shall have no access to the funds.

To my living squib descendants, I leave a thousand galleons each to do with as they please. I never was a good father or grandfather to them and won't pretend to be better in death, but this little gift will hopefully help them over any lingering resentment.

The opening of vaults for my heirs and the distribution of the bequeathments in the muggle world have already been arranged with Gringotts. All that remains to be said is adieu, and always be curious about this magical world we live in."

"Hermione is the sole heir?" Dan asked doubtfully. "I have two brothers, one of which I'm not talking to, and one sister, so surely that's not possible. Nevermind all the cousins."

Sharptooth answered patiently, "The potion is never wrong. Your daughter inherits all."

Dan swallowed, sitting back with slumped shoulders. "Holy crap. How much money has old Hector left her?"

"It's not a huge bequeathment," Sharptooth said delicately, "but as of today her worth has increased to 748.385 galleons, 8 sickles and 3 knuts. 10.000 of those galleons of course being a gift from Mr. Potter here."

"Oh my." Emma looked gobsmacked. "That translates to a lot of books."

"And tutors, and tutoring holidays abroad," Dan whispered. "She can have it all."

"Can I really not give my parents some of the money?" Hermione asked sadly. "They spent so much money on me, it doesn't seem right."

"No, darling, you musn't think like that." Emma knelt next to Hermione's chair and grabbed her free hand. "It's our privilege to see you flourish. Will it be easier on us, now that you've got money to burn for studying? Of course it will be. But that doesn't mean that we want or need the money back we've already invested in you. What we don't spend on books, we can spend on holidays together."

"Or on yourself," Hermione said in a small voice. "I know that you've held back for my sake."

"Of course, sweetie." Emma rose and kissed her daugther's forehead. "Let's finish here so we can get your things."

Sharptooth efficiently coached Hermione through claiming her inheritance, explained how Gringotts was able to know that she spent the money according to Hector Dagworth-Granger's wishes, and recommended tutoring in financial management. Her insistence on paying for Hogwarts going forward was well received by the goblin, and Harry spied her parents sharing a pleased smile. All in all, the whole thing took a little more than an hour from their day.

"Your inheritance is a matter of public record," Sharptooth told them once everything was dealt with. "There will be a small notation in all magical newspapers that the Dagworth-Granger family line is once more active. I say this so you'll be prepared for letters of supplication or even outright demands. There will be those who'll want to contest the will; send those individuals to Gringotts. Applications for the funding of business ventures should be summarily dismissed as the money can only ever be used for your own educational pursuits."

"Thank you, we'll keep that in mind," Emma said.

"I feel like my head is about to explode," Hermione confessed as they finally left the bank. With a little distance between her and Harry and her parents, she added, "I knew that we have a rather large family, but learning that we're actually a family of squibs ... it's so strange. I can't imagine how my dad must be feeling right now."

"Maybe he's a little sad that he didn't know about this sooner, but he doesn't seem the sort to suddenly want what he never had anyway," Harry consoled her. "Except he's got a thousand galleons extra. That's pretty great!"

"It is," Hermione agreed, frown easing a little. "I hope they'll go and have a fancy dinner somewhere, or go away for a couple of days. They deserve it so much."

"They'll save a whole lot of money just from not paying the tuiton for Hogwarts." Harry bumped her shoulder with his. "They're happy for you."

"I should've taken Hector's journals at least," she murmured. "I've never heard of him, but he had a lot of money and that probably means he was of some consequence."

"Don't worry about it. You can get them anytime." Harry steered them to Madam Malkin's, as Hermione was still far too befuddled to notice much of her environment. "Let's get our shopping out of the way. If you want them, we can get them before you go home. Is that a deal?"

"That's a very thoughtful deal." Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry for being such a ninny."

"Nah, it's alright. I still have to find out about my inheritance test, so who knows what kind of wreck I'll be." They reached Madam Malkin's shop and Harry held the door for her. "Here we are."

He browsed the selection of gloves and hats while Hermione was being measured behind a privacy screen. Emma chose a pretty silk scarf and Dan found a bowtie for their outing to the opera. The shop assistant watched them all with shrewd eyes but rang up their purchases without saying anything, not even to Harry.

Finding a pair of sturdy boots in the shoe shop led to buying another pair of half shoes for the warmer months at half price because the owner wanted to do The-Boy-Who-Lived a favour. He wouldn't be swayed no matter how much Harry protested, and in the end Dan decided to accept the kind offer in his stead so they could move along.

"Before we go to Flourish and Blotts, I'd like to go to the trunk store," Harry said, pointing at said store. "I need a new book bag."

"Good idea," Hermione agreed. "Maybe one that's a lot larger on the inside, and nearly weightless."

They entered the store and peppered the amused owner with questions. Only ten minutes later, they were both proud owners of new leather carrier bags that had been spelled to capacity for storage, order, and weightlessness.

"I can put a small library in there," Hermione gushed, showing her mother the pretty turquoise lining inside her bag. "And all of my homework! Isn't it great?"

"Very great," Emma laughed. "One like that would make a fantastic birthday present for your favourite mother."

"I know." Grinning, Hermione kissed her on the cheek. "Too bad your birthday is still five months away."

"It's not nice to tease," Dan said, kissing his wife on the other cheek. "Now, I know that you wanted to go to Flourish and Blott's next, but let's make a small detour."

Hermione's parents led the way to the Magical Menagerie, where they told their daughter that it was time to get a pet.

"Maybe it'll be an owl, but whatever animal catches your fancy will be fine," Emma promised. "It's our birthday present to you, if you want it."

Hermione, who was already pressing her face to the show window, squeaked, "I want!"

Dashing inside, she made a straight line to the counter, where a huge orange ball of fluff was sitting and staring at her intently.

"Oh, careful, young lady," the lady behind the counter said. "He's a half-kneazle, a magical type of cat, and doesn't suffer us humans easily."

"I've seen him last summer but couldn't buy him. He's gorgeous," Hermione cooed, holding out her hand for the kneazle to sniff. "What's his name?"

"He hasn't got one, yet," the lady replied. "Do you want him?"

"I'd rather know whether he wants me." Hermione, not having been bitten or scratched, stepped a little closer. "Can I pet you, cat?"

The thing purred and closed his yellow eyes.

Hermione buried her fingers in the fluffy fur, causing the purr to become louder and louder with each rumble. "You're lovely. Do you want to come with me to Hogwarts? There's a lot of land for you to roam. You look like you need your alone time."

The cat practically head-butted Hermione with pleasure.

Dan smiled crookedly as he paid for the kneazle, a carrier and a bit of food. "You sure know how to pick them, princess."

"Yeah, that's a lot of cat to carry around," Harry remarked, watching the kneazle through the bars of its carrier.

"I'm strong," she answered, unconcerned.

"And I'll spell the carrier weightless for her," the sales lady laughed. "It should hold up until well after your train ride to Hogwarts, dear."

"Good idea." Harry grinned. "He seems to like you a lot. What will you call him?"

"His name is Crookshanks, because he has adorable bow legs." Hermione beamed. "He's got so much character! I can't wait to show him off."

"I can already see Lavender and Pavarti putting little bows in his tail." Harry snickered. "Poor little guy."

Crookshanks hissed loudly.

"Don't scare him, Harry James," Hermione scolded him. "Pavarti and Lavender aren't so bad."

Bickering, they slowly made their way to Flourish and Blott's. Mr. Blott was behind the counter, breaking out in a huge smile when he saw Hermione.

"Miss Granger! Long time no see. Is that your new pet? O-ho! That's an impressive kneazle tom you have here! Such a handsome boy."

"Isn't he just great?" Hermione asked. "May I please leave him here while we're looking around?"

"Of course, my dear." Mr. Blott put the carrier onto the counter so Crookshanks could watch his new mistress as she wandered through the store. "I've got your third year books already here."

"Er, about that ... what do I have to do to read the Monster Book Of Monsters?" Harry asked. "Mine tried to eat me and then hid under my dresser. It's still there, but, well, we're leaving for Hogwarts soon."

"Not an uncommon problem," Mr. Blott sighed. "That book is something else. To open it, you'll have to pet it first. Just a few pats to the cover or a little rub of its spine should do it. Look, like this." And he produced the bound book from Hermione's stack, demonstrating with a couple of pats. "Other than this foolishness, it's actually a good book about the subject and well worth the money. By the way, we finally got the third volume of Transfiguration For Apprentices."

"Oh, just go," Emma sighed and Hermione darted off, eyes aglow with happiness and one hand firmly on her new money bag.

Harry wondered if Hermione would see herself surrounded by books in the Mirror of Erised, maybe with Crookshanks on her lap. The thought made him smile.

"What about you, Harry?" Dan asked. "Do you need any books?"

"Dobby got them for me already," Harry admitted. "And he'll pop over and get more if I need them. But it's always great to just look."

"Then don't let me stop you. Let's meet here in an hour, that should be enough time for the ladies to go crazy."

Harry agreed and meandered off to look for books about defence and wizarding fighting. To his surprise and joy there was a book about hit wizards and their training in the bargain bin, and another about martial broom fighting of all things in the specialized section for obscure topics. To round out his selection, he picked up several more books about healing charms, personal hygiene, and Magical Herbst and Funghi, Vol. 2, so he could help his elf friends indentify the stranger plants on Potter's Field, and possibly even find out how to clear them away. The last but perhaps most interesting find was a book named The Art Of Secrecy.

An hour later, he met the Grangers at the counter and goggled at the amount of books Hermione had chosen.

"Yes, I know, but a year is long and those are all topics I'm interested in," Hermione said defensively.

"Even magical law?" Harry asked. He thumbed through one of the books. "It's brutally dry reading, 'Mione."

"Muggle law is just as uninspiring. That doesn't mean it's not useful to know how it works. What have you found, Harry?"

Harry showed her his selections and earned an incredulous look for the martial broom fight book.

"That's one of the most insane things I've ever seen," Hermione said after flipping through the pages. "Those moving pictures are crazy! You'll break your neck."

"Yeah, I should do this with an instructor, but some of the beginner moves are easy enough to try by myself," Harry replied, looking at a man that was shooting along just above the ground, only to jump off, grab the broom and use it like a fighting staff against an attacker. After disabling him, the man jumped back on the broom and raced away. The whole thing was over in five or six seconds. "Isn't this epically cool?"

"It's epically easy to get yourself killed," Hermione countered, with reluctant amazement tingeing her voice. "Where did you even find this?"

"Specialized section. There's a lot of crazy stuff in there."

Mr. Blott politely interrupted them so Hermione could pay for her purchases. The amount of galleons would have been staggering just an hour earlier, but neither Hermione nor Mr. Blott even batted an eyelid as Hermione withdrew the small mountain of gold from her bag.

"It's always a pleasure to have you come visit," Mr. Blott said sincerely. "And please remember our owl order service. I've included our catalogue, but feel free to ask if you're looking for something that's not listed."

"I will, thank you, Mr. Blott." Hermione smiled sweetly.

Harry quickly paid, stuffed his books into his new bag and helped push Hermione out of the shop.

"It's always the same ... a dagger through my heart," Dan lamented. "Once in there, I, her own father, cease to exist. Mr. Flourish and Mr. Blott become her heroes, and her poor mother! Not a thought is left for her."

"It's not that bad," Hermione mumbled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Look, there's Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour. Believe it or not, but I could actually eat."

Harry didn't have the heart to tease her, unlike her parents. Throwing both adults a speaking look, he followed Hermione through the store and to a little table in the prettily decorated backyard seating area. A little chastised, Dan and Emma chose the furthest table from them to give them some space.

"They're terrible. I take back every nice thing I have said about them today," Hermione groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

"No, you don't." Harry grinned.

Mr. Fortesque personally approached and handed them menues. "How may I help you?" he asked, eyes wandering from Harry to Hermione and back. "Or, if I may be so bold and recommend our Couple Cup to you?"

"The Couple Cup?" Harry blushed. "Er, what's in it?"

Mr. Fortesque explained that each of them could choose six half scoops of ice cream, several toppings and different sauces.

"That doesn't sound very lovey-dovey," Hermione remarked. "Don't couples usually do everything together?"

"Hm, I can't say they do," Mr. Fortesque replied with a wink. "You see, sharing something doesn't mean that you have to compromise ... at least not in my parlour! I have sixty kinds of ice cream to choose from, how boring would it be to share only two or three? No, you young people pick out whatever you like and let the other experience what you like about your choices."

"I think it's great. Should we take the Couple Cup, 'Mione?" Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione blushed and looked searchingly at him. "If you're sure?"

Harry knew that he was somewhat socially unaware, but he still knew that something was changing between them right there, and that his answer meant a lot to the girl across from him. If he interpreted her reaction right, she really wanted ...

"Yes," he said in as firm a voice as he could manage. "Very sure."

Mr. Fortesque beamed and took their order.

Harry, not beaming any less, took Hermione's slightly sweaty hand in his as soon as he was gone. "This summer has been so awesome."

"You think so?" she asked, shy but radiant.

"I like you a lot," Harry said honestly. "I just hope I won't mess this up."

"You'd have to do a Ronald to manage that," Hermione informed him with a raised eyebrow and they both laughed a little. "No, really. I like you, too, and, and ..." She paused, a little flustered. "I am your girlfriend now, right?"

"Yes. As long as you'll have me, really, because I can't imagine liking anyone as much as I like you."

"Oh."

They stared at each other in wonder, barely noticing Mr. Fortesque's return with their ice cream and two complimentary cups of white coffee.

"Enjoy," the older gentleman said with an indulgent smile, and that was exactly what Harry and Hermione did.

---

End of part 5