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]

7. Chapter 7

Wrote hard and put up wet. No beta, no shame.

Have fun!

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Dobby's Deceit

Part 7

They met at half past seven in the common room, grinned shyly at each other and settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Crookshanks joined them, meowing quietly as if telling them about his night before plonking down on Hermione's lap and sighing in contentment.

"Is it strange that I already love him so much?" she asked and carded through the cat's thick fur. "He was waiting for me in the store ... I saw him last summer but my mum said I wasn't ready for a pet yet. It devastated me. I was sure someone else had seen how special he is and bought him."

"Why would your mum say that?" Harry wondered. Carefully, he joined Hermione's petting and Crookshanks started to purr like a little engine. "You're the most responsible person I know."

She blushed und looked away for a moment. "It's nice of you to say that, but she was right, actually. After first year, I was kind of traumatized, what with the troll and Fluffy and everything else. I wanted Crooks then, but he'd have been a crutch, and my parents didn't want me to push my issues aside. They dragged me to a psychologist ... of course she's a muggle so I couldn't tell her the complete truth, but she still helped." She paused and softly stroked along Crookshank's nose. "We were barely home and it wouldn't have been fair to drag Crookshanks into that mess."

Something in Harry relaxed, a thing he hadn't even known had been tense until that very moment. "I'm doing that, too," he confessed. "Seeing a mind healer, I mean. It helps."

"That's great. I've been wondering how to talk to you about it because honestly, out of all of us you definitely suffered the worst. Are you still having sessions?" Hermione asked, sinking slightly against Harry.

"Yeah, he wants to stay in contact while I'm at school. So far, he's given me some really good advice about how things work in the wizarding world. And other stuff, of course."

"Muggleborns or muggle-raised kids could do with a lot more introduction to the wizarding world," Hermione huffed. "I can't even imagine getting that talk from Hagrid. I like him, but he forgot to bring you home after taking you to Diagon Alley. Nevermind telling you how to get on the train!"

Harry kind of regretted telling her and Ron that particular story, but on the other hand it was nice to know that she was looking out for him and showing him what went wrong around him. Because he clearly was still too naive.

"Anyway, I've decided to approach Lavender with this," Hermione continued. "Since her mum's working as a journalist, she might be able to write an article for the summer, or even a whole extra for the paper for new Hogwarts students. Heck, she could write a yearly extra with all the standard and current information. Hogwarts clearly isn't doing enough to educate the students."

"I've always wondered why we can elect Muggle Studies, but not Wizarding Society or something like that," Harry murmured. With his free hand, he began playing with Hermione's fingers. "Gringotts got me a book about that. It's self-updating, with the most important laws in the back and everything."

"Can I read it?" Hermione asked, but immediately caught herself. "Nevermind, I can afford to buy it myself now."

Harry laughed. "You can still borrow my copy until yours arrives."

"Thank you." Hermione cleared her throat. "And thanks for not being put off. Being pushy is my biggest fault, I know that. I really try not to get so excited, but it's hard. There's just so much to learn."

"I know the feeling," he consoled her and smiled. "There's a lot of important stuff in that book. Even you will have to work a while to get it all."

"Still, it's not right to always demand things from you. It makes me no better than Ron, and that kind of horrifies me a little. I'm sorry. Please tell me when it gets too much." Hermione bit her lip. "I really don't want to scare you off."

"Okay," Harry agreed easily. Then, he grinned. "You know, I asked my healer whether I could tell you that you're bossy."

That startled a laugh out of Hermione. "You didn't!"

"I did." He playfully tugged at her thumb. "But I like that I can tell you. We're friends, alright? That's not gonna change because we're dating now."

"You're a horrible boy," Hermione sniffed and buried her face in his shoulder. "New rule: you only get to tell me one wonderful thing a week! I don't want to be a blubbering mess all the time!"

Harry decided then and there that he'd probably never understand girls. It also was a little alarming to feel his shirt getting wet. "Are you honestly crying about that?" he asked, bewildered.

"Shut up," Hermione mumbled and cuddled even closer against him, until Harry's arm went fully around her. "I never had a best friend like you. I can happy-cry about it if I want."

That was certainyl true enough, and since Harry didn't want her to feel bad about feeling good in his presence - even if her sniffles were making him a little uncomfortable - he just bussed a kiss onto her head.

A few minutes later, Hermione sighed. "Why is it already eight?"

"My fault," Harry teased. "I'm really looking forward to Defence; I probably made the time go faster."

"You're such a dork," she chuckled. With some reluctance, Hermione sat up straight and wiped her cheeks. "I'm really looking forward to Defence, too. Do you think Professor Lupin will teach us his spell? Expecto Patronum?"

"We can ask," Harry replied, although Sirius had already told him that the spell usually wasn't taught at Hogwarts at all, and was a bit tricky to master besides. In fact, Sirius had told Harry a lot of things last night, none of which he could share with Hermione at the moment. "But breakfeast first."

"Yes, let's go before Ron joins us. His table manners are a nightmare." Carefully, Hermione shooed Crookshanks from her lap. "But first ..." She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's lips.

Harry was a bit overwhelmed. Yesterday, it had been easy, mellow, almost like it was supposed to happen. Today, however, Hermione had intentionally kissed him, and even though they were still alone, it felt kind of monumental. Like they were best of friends, but suddenly also so much more. He had no idea where the distinction came from, but there it was, and he suspected that it would baffle him for a while yet.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, obviously a little worried about his stillness. "Was it too much?"

Harry shook himself. "No. I was just ... you know. Thinking about it. For me, it's a ..." He flushed a little. "A big deal. It feels nice, though."

"It's okay if you want to wait a little longer," Hermione said. "We're really young, after all."

"I wish I were a little older," Harry said, suddenly gripped with the fear that she'd go elsewhere to get kisses if he took too long to be ready.

"I don't." Hermione smiled. "I don't need kisses. I just want them because I like you." The soft gleam in her eyes became an impish little twinkle. "Kissing you here is also great." And she smacked him on the cheek, causing a heated blush to bloom on Harry's face and rush all the way down to his chest.

"O-okay," Harry stuttered, supremely flustered. "Uh, so, breakfast now?"

Hermione stood, offered her hand for him to take, and said, "Let's go."

They were the first to sit down at their house table, which was a good thing because Dobby served Harry a very individual breakfast consisting of Greek yogurt with elf berries and a little honey, avocado toast and two eggs benedict on sauteed spinach.

"I'm so envious," Hermione sighed as she poked at her hash browns. "What can I do to convince Dobby to let me have a plate of that, as well?"

"I guess asking would do the trick," Harry replied, not fighting his smile. He lowered his voice. "Dobby? Would it be alright to make food for Hermione too when she wants it?"

"Dobby can do that," the invisible elf squeaked quietly. "Dobby be happy that Miss Mione be liking Dobby's cooking."

"Like it?" Hermione hissed incredulously. "It looks and smells amazing!"

"Dobby be trying to teach Hogwarts elves more variety," Dobby whispered. "Dobby be making inroads."

Now Hermione was smiling as well. "Thank you very much, Dobby. On behalf of all the students I wish you much luck."

"Luck not be having anything to do with it," Dobby said.

There was a barely audible pop, and just a minute later, Hermione's plate vanished and was replaced with a breakfast just like Harry's.

"I sincerely love him," Hermione declared and moaned happily at the first bite of her eggs.

Thankfully their yearmates were a rather unobservant bunch in the mornings and didn't say anything about the unusual dishes when they descended on the great hall a few minutes later. Lavender was chugging coffee as if it were her lifeline, and Dean was as much a fan of hash browns and bacon as he'd ever been and didn't even notice a large owl knocking over Seamus' goblet of pumpkin juice when it was time for mail delivery.

"Oh, Archimedes," Neville groaned. He tried to mop up the mess, but the owl hooted angrily at him and stuck out its leg.

"I'll take care of it," Harry said, his wand already out for a cleaning spell. "You read your letter."

"Thanks, Harry." Neville took the letter, fed the owl a piece of sausage, and opened the sealed piece of parchment. "Oh, it's from my gran."

Hermione dropped her spoon into her empty yogurt bowl. "What does she say?"

Neville hastily read over the entire missive and flushed a fierce red. "She says that, uh, that the headmaster is ... er, nevermind, she'll come here tomorrow and talk to Professor Dumbledore. Says she'll put an end to this nonsense before the full board of govenors has to get involved."

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "I'll have to thank her."

"Er, yes, she'll want to meet you, Harry." Neville looked uncomfortable. "Apparently she'd like to have a word with you. After she's talked to Professor Dumbledore."

Ron, who was perpetually late if no one woke him, stumbled up to them and elbowed his way into a spot on the bench between Harry and Dean.

"Excuse you," Dean said, annoyed that his cup of water was falling victim to Ron's flailing. "I was drinking that."

"Sorry," Ron huffed. With one hand he poured tea, while grabbing toast and bacon from their platters with the other. "It's so late already ... need breakfast."

"Ugh, keep your mouth closed while you eat, Ronald. Honestly." Hermione bent her head over Lavender's Daily Prophet. "Hey, where's the article about the dementors, Lavender? Didn't you say your mum would write one? I expected it yesterday, but then I thought that she was maybe getting more information before publishing it."

"She did write one, and it was amazing." Lavender scowled at her plate. "The boss told her not to bother, that the Ministry has it all in hand. Instead, they're harping on about Black, as if the whole country doesn't know already that he's wanted."

"What? He just brushed it off?" Harry asked, apalled, and many other students in their vicinity voiced their displeasure as well. A rather intimidating eagle chose that moment to land on the table, a thick newspaper tied to its leg. Harry accepted the Wizarding International Times from it and paid two sickles. Even at first glance he saw that things were very different outside of Great Britain. "That's obviously total rubbish. Europe's going nuts over it, see?"

The headline indeed read: British Students Attacked By Dementors! Several Near Fatalities! Ministry Denies Involvement!

"Probably my father's doing," Pavarti said proudly. "He knew that the Ministry wouldn't admit to making a mistake and wrote to a friend in Spain, who apparently tapped his contacts here. Although I have no idea where you managed to buy the WIT; you can't buy it anywhere, as far as I know. My dad has his semi-legally imported from Ireland."

"My secret for now," Harry said. He frowned at the many pages. "Thank god I only subscribed to the weekly edition; I don't know how people find the time to read all this every day."

"We could share," Lavender offered. "Pavarti and I could start with the feuilleton."

"International sports for me?" Dean asked hopefully. "Several Quidditch national teams got Firebolts for their seekers, some even for all their players. That'll change things around!"

"It's crazy," Ron said through his mouthful of food.

"I'll take the economy pages, if you don't want them," Neville said shyly. "I'm waiting on news about the trade agreement between Britain and the African Magical Union."

Harry divided the paper into smaller parts and handed them out as requested. For himself he kept the current news about Britain. Sirius had warned him, but reading about the attack from an outsider's point of view himself really drove the point home: it had been dangerous on Wednesday and they could've died. Fifteen dementors had been counted, and an unnamed source from within the Ministry of Magic had admitted that none of the aurors on duty had been prepared for a search, the Hogwarts Express having been cleared by another auror team not ten minutes before departure, much less an attack.

I know that Professor Lupin and Sirius have issues, but I'm still glad that Lupin was there. He was the first with his spell, and told everybody what to do after that, Harry thought as he turned the page.

Next came a few short interviews with parents of students.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said. "Look, the WIT even contacted your parents!"

"They interviewed muggles?" Ron asked. "How weird, the Prophet never bothers."

"Just shows how backwards that rag is." Hermione ducked under the table instead of taking the long way round and unceremoniously sat on Harry's lap, because Ron didn't even try to scoot over. "Wow, really, they even got their photo taken." She looked longingly at her waving parents and then quickly read over the interview. "They went all out, ha. Serves Minister Fudge right."

"There's also mention of your new status," Harry said, pointing at the pertinent part of the article. "When the goblins say public record, they obviously mean it."

"It's not their fault," Hermione replied, although she didn't look very happy about it. "A good newspaper routinely checks these records, so it had to come up eventually. It's just unfortunate that the dementors and I made it into the same article."

"Unfortunate? You'll get a lot of attention that way," Ron said and stuffed half a buttered breakfast roll into his mouth. "Maybe you don't want marriage contracts, but I bet people are curious about you now."

"Why should they be? When I came here, no one mentioned the Dagworth-Granger family to me, which is fair enough. People from oversea's will care even less."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Pavarti cautioned her. "The USA have a large academic community, and so do many other countries. Hector Dagworth-Granger will be known to some people, at least, and it might interest them what his newly discovered great-granddaughter is up to."

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

Next to Parvati, Lavender was slapping the front page of the Daily Prophet. "They're not even reporting that angle without dragging Hermione through the mud."

"Cheap entertainment," Neville said quietly. "Unfortunately."

"I'd sue them, but it's not worth the hassle," Hermione replied. "I'm just sorry for everyone who has to read that tripe."

"This is worse than tripe, they're keeping people in the dark about demons from hell," Lavender snapped. "And it's unfair how the editor just ruined my mum's chance at the Ackleson Award," she added and glowered. "They'll probably give it to Rita Skeeter, again."

"Your mum should quit," Parvati agreed. "It was the story of the year, at least so far, and they buried it. Hoch much worse can it get?"

"I don't really want to insult the wizarding society," Hermione said, earning herself groans and even a few dirty looks, "but if that's how the Prophet deals with big news that could harm the Minister for Magic, then I'm afraid it's a bit of a mouth-piece. And do you even get how strange it is that there's only one major newspaper? A government-controlled newspaper wouldn't be so bad if there were independent media outlets to offset their obvious bias, but apparently the British magicals have nothing of the sort."

"I swear I have no idea what she's talking about half of the time," Ron declared into the stunned silence.

"I got what she means just fine," Katie Bell called from her place close to the head table. "And she's right! The Prophet is a joke. I'll cancel my subscription as soon as I get my hands on an owl. Fred, George, you can have that rag for that thing you're working on until my contract runs out."

The twins cheered while Percy a few seats away pretended not to know them.

"I'll tell my parents to cancel my subscription, too," Lavender said, still angry. "Maybe they'll send me the WIT instead. They're at least reporting the bloody news."

Parvati grinned. "Good idea, we can't always steal Harry's. Or did you get just the one?"

"Nah, I have a subscription," Harry replied. "When I'm done with it, you're welcome to read it, though."

Pavarti thanked him graciously, while Lavender looked both thoughtful and vengeful.

Shortly after, it was time to head to the Defence classroom. Professor Lupin let them in and greeted the mixed group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in a friendly but professional manner. To everybody's delight, he told them to keep their books in the bags and get their wands out.

"Defence against the dark arts must be practiced constantly," Lupin told them, "and therefore most of our classes will be dedicated to practical work. The theoretical part will be covered in your homework, so pay attention to what you read and always double-check your information. I'm not above setting traps if I think that you're not paying enough attention or cutting corners." With a swish of his wand, all the tables and chairs sorted themselves along the walls. A second swish brought a large wardrobe forward, which was rattling ominously. "Today's topic will be the boggart. Do any of you know what a boggart is?"

Hermione of course raised her hand, and so did Hannah Abbott, a blond girl from Hufflepuff who always wore her hair in pigtails.

"Yes, please." Lupin pointed at Hannah.

"Boggarts are related to dementors, actually," the girl said, nervously glancing at the wardrobe. "Their magic reveals our deepest fears to them and they use that fear to defend themselves."

"Excellent, five points to Hufflepuff," Lupin said. "Miss Granger, do you have more?"

Surprised at being called out, Hermione nodded. "While dementors eat souls, a boggart will eat any kind of emotion and excess magic a magical being gives off. They are especially prone to breaking into magical homes and settling in dark corners where it is harder for magicals to reach in the first place." She pointed at the wardrobe. "I guess it wasn't very hard to lure one in there."

"No, it wasn't. Do you know why witches and wizards commonly don't suffer boggarts as house guests?" Lupin asked with a small smile. "They're not malicious and won't attack without provocation."

"But they're leeching off magic," Hermione replied promptly. "One boggart in a big family home won't do much damage, but if it breeds, the people will feel it. Magical drain is a known malady and the cure ranges from removal of the boggart and a time of rest, to rest and potion intervention. If the leech affects the core over a long time, the damage might even be incurable, resulting in permanently lower power levels of the victim."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." Lupin looked over the class. "Now, the spell to fight a boggart is very easy, but what makes it hard is the intention behind it. You see, to drive away a boggart, you must face your fear and transform it into something ridiculous. And that's also the incantation of the spell: riddikulus!" He wrote it on the blackboard. "Now together!"

Everyone called out the incantation and then tried out the wand movement.

When Lupin was satisfied that everybody could do it, he continued, "The next step requires quick thinking and determination. Facing your greatest fear will be paralyzing, so you need to be able to come up with something that's guaranteed to make you laugh. The longer you take, the smaller the chance to accomplish this. Take a few minutes and think about it. You're welcome to talk to your friends."

As the class was dividing into small groups to discuss ideas, Lupin came over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Harry, may I have a quick word with you?" he asked.

"Sure, Professor," Harry replied.

Lupin sighed. "I don't like singling you out, but since you have a rather unique history, I thought it prudent to have you do this after class. I won't have the other students fear for their lives if You-Know-Who were to appear."

"Uhm, thanks," Harry said, "but to be honest I don't actually know what my greatest fear is. Voldemort is pretty bad, but so were the dementors on the train. Or, um, a great snake I met last year."

"Not to mention your awful relatives," Hermione added in a quiet but sharp voice. "Nobody needs to see that if you don't want them to."

"All true," Lupin agreed. "That's why I'll give you all the chance to bow out, not just Harry. However, being able to fight a boggart is important, especially now that their big cousins are free to roam the country and will no doubt terrify a lot of people. That will very likely encourage the boggarts to occupy wizarding spaces."

Hermione smiled. "That's very thoughtful, really."

Lupin smiled back. "I'm here to teach, not to humiliate any of you." He clapped his hands. "Time's up! Are you ready?"

"Yes," the class called in various degrees of trepidation.

"Great," Lupin said warmly. "Now, I won't force anyone to do this in a class setting because facing your greatest fear is a rather intimate experience. However, if you feel that you'd like to try now instead of privately later, I'll award each student a point for bravery. It's your choice and I won't think any less of you for it."

That settled a lot of nerves and nearly half of the class decided to sit out. The other half, however, was applauded loudly for their courage.

Before any of them got to try, however, Professor Lupin stepped in front of the wardrobe, his wand raised, and motioned for the doors to open.

In a billow of darkness something pale and round appeared, hovering there for the merest of seconds. Then, Lupin's bellow of, "Riddikulus!" cut through the oppressive silence and the glowing thing transformed into a glittering bouncy ball that bounced off in a truly ridiculous fashion. The whole class laughed and clapped as the boggart shrieked and retreated into the wardrobe.

"Now, who of you wants to go first?" Lupin asked.

Bravely, five students raised their hands, and the professor picked Neville.

"One point for bravery to Gryffindor," Lupin said with a smile. "Thank you, Neville. I'm right here, so don't be afraid. If it is too much, I'll step in."

Nodding, Neville stepped in front of the wardrobe. His wand hand shook a little, but he stood firm.

The wardrobe doors opened ...

... and out stepped Professor Snape, scowling darkly and promptly beginning to berate Neville for all of his failings.

The poor boy nearly faltered, only to squeeze his eyes shut, swing his wand, and shout, "Riddikulus!"

The whole room exploded with laughter as Snape was suddenly clad in an old woman's tweet costume, and wearing a truly awful hat with a vulture on top. In his hand, boggart-Snape was holding an ugly purse, and his feet were stuck in oddly comfortable looking lady slippers with golden buckles.

The boggart never stood a chance and vanished with an angry hiss.

"Well done!" Lupin praised. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Harry was the first to clap Neville on his back and congratulate him, and Hermione was almost gushing in her praise. Even Ron, who rarely even talked to the boy, found nice words. After that, the rest of the class descended and Neville found himself the recipient of a few unexpected hugs. The one from Hannah Abbott rather managed to turn him a glowing shade of pink, but everyone was too elated to tease him for it.

Ron, telling his friends that it couldn't be so bad, went next. Knowing of his fear of spiders, neither Harry or Hermione were all that surprised to see a giant spider emerging from the wardrobe, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a horrifying sight.

Ron stared at the long, hairy legs and clicking pincers in terror. Only a nudge from Professor Lupin reminded him that he could fight back now ... which he did. With a great cry of, "Riddikulus!" and a slash of his wand, the spider suddenly sported rollerblades on each of its legs. It promptly lost its balance, stumbled comically like the world's most clumsy clown, and finally fell with a loud splat right on its face.

A snort escaped Ron, which made all the other students snort as well, and the boggart vanished in a black cloud.

After him, it was Susan Bone's turn, her greatest fear being the heart-wrenching sight of a whole family of headstones on a cold, deserted cemetery. She didn't really transform that scenery with her spell, but the inscriptions on the stones changed to something to outrageously irreverent and funny that everybody broke out laughing despite themselves.

"Very well done, Susan," Lupin praised her. "I hope no one will object if I award you another five points to your eleven for your resilience in the face of such grief."

Everybody clapped and whistled and Susan took her blushing self away so Hermione could go next.

Of course, being Hermione, she had do to things her way.

The boggart appeared in an angry flush of black smoke, only to ... hang there for a long while. Shapes formed into something Harry interpreted as a probable Voldemort, but with a report card full of Ts in his hands, only to vanish and try again with a wedding scene of all things, with Hermione as the bride and a man that oozed uselessness as the groom. Her parents appeared with the intent of taking Hermione out of Hogwarts, but were slapped with dozens of letters, all clearly from her friends. After that, there was Harry coming too close to a dementor, only the dementor was being repelled by a silvery light.

"Er," Professor Lupin said.

Hermione stared at the rapidly shifting images. Most of them were starting out as vaguely threatening but ended rather pitifully without any input on her part.

"Oh my god," she said derisively and snorted. "I know I've got problems when not even a boggart can manage to scare me properly."

Offended, the boggart chose to retreat into the relative safety of his wardrobe, leaving the class gaping at Hermione.

"Uhm, ten points to Gryffindor for an extraordinary demonstration of fighting fear with logic," Lupin said. "Because that'll work against fear almost as well as humour. Well done. Take another five points for a valuable lesson to your classmates."

Hermione nodded and went to Harry's side.

"That was brilliant," he said quietly. "How did you do that?"

"That's my mind for you," she replied with a grimace. "I'm a problem solver. Getting taken out of Hogwarts? It's bad, but there are always letters, and my parents won't do it to punish me or make me feel bad. Bad grades? Impossible, really, it's just silly nonsense. And Voldemort? I don't even know how he was before you defeated him. Knowing that he was a terrorist isn't the same thing as having lived during that time, so I can't honestly have him as my greatest fear."

"And the dementor?" Harry asked. Or rather, losing him to a dementor, but Harry was mindful of listening ears and kept that to himself.

"Well, Professor Lupin can teach us to defeat them," she replied as if it were that easy. In a whisper, she added, "And you also got a very good friend who'll defend you with his life."

They watched the rest of the volunteers facing off against the boggarts and thanked Professor Lupin when he let them go early so the others could have their attempt in private. Harry didn't mind waiting with Ernie Macmillan and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff. Seamus and Dean had opted to stay behind as well and even offered to wait for Harry who was called up last. He sent them on to Charms, however, and promised to follow as quickly as he could.

"Are you ready?" Lupin asked once the door to the classroom was closed.

"Yes." Harry nodded and got in front of the wardrobe.

Lupin waved his hand, opening the doors, and the boggart burst out in an angry cloud of black smoke. It stayed black but grew and grew until it towered over Harry, forming the tattered robes of a dementor. It's maw opened, a deep, rattling breath sounded, and the horrible, cold feeling of powerlessness crept into Harry's very being. Slowly, the monster leaned closer, mouth opening impossibly wide.

"No," Harry gasped, green light flimmering at the edge of his vision, "not again!" He swung his wand and cried, "Riddikulus!"

Ropes shot out of his wand, effectively binding the dementor until it looked like a very strange worm. Next, Dobby appeared, foot raised to kick the squirming dementor into the next volcano. However, Harry's imagination wasn't done yet. It conjured up Hermione in her best bossy mood, and she immediately began to berate the dementor for its stupidity.

"Incredible," Harry huffed and began to snicker when Dobby finally gave the thing the boot it deserved. "She was right."

"I'm quite speechless," Lupin confessed. He looked a little grey around the edges. "A dementor ... that's rather wise, Harry, fearing fear the most."

"Maybe ... nothing makes be feel as bad as being afraid," Harry admitted. "It freezes me up, and then bad things can happen. Professor ... will you teach me your spell? Expecto Patronum?"

Lupin exhaled after a moment of thought. "Yes, of course I will. It'll take some time, but I think you can do it."

"And Hermione, too? She wants to, and I want her to be able to protect herself against those things. Or better yet, all of us. Lots of my house mates have nightmares ... I do, too."

"That's ... I'm not sure I can manage that for the whole school," Lupin admitted. "As I said, it'll take time. Mmh ... except I've heard that there was a Duelling Club last year?"

"Yeah, for all of one session," Harry retorted. "Our last teacher was a moron. Sorry, but it's true."

"Well, maybe I'll be able to start a club and teach the Patronus. I'll need at least one other teacher to support me."

Harry said, "I could ask Professor Flitwick. His class is next, anyway."

The bell rang and Lupin nodded. "Alright. I'll write you a pass and send a note along with it." He looked at Harry pensively for a moment. "You really grew up to look a lot like your dad, Harry, but you've got your mum's heart."

Harry smiled softly. "Thanks."

It took Lupin only a couple of minutes to write his note and send Harry on his way. The ten points for a job well done were nice, but knowing that someone took a real interest in the students' safety was much more rewarding to Harry than points could ever be.

oOo

After Charms, Harry told his friends about Professor Lupin's offer, and that Professor Flitwick had seemed rather excited at the prospect of a new club.

"Professor Flitwick said that might take all year to teach us the charm, but I think it'd be worth it," Harry said. "And it's only one hour a week."

"You don't have to convince me," Hermione said. "I'm in!"

Seamus shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

The whole Quidditch team raised their hands, and after that nearly all of Gryffindor followed.

"Cool," Harry said with a pleased grin. "Lavender, will you inform the other houses?"

"Sure," she said easily and made a note in a little book. "Can I quote you?"

"Quote me on what?" Harry asked, confused.

"What you just told us. You're the instigator of this club, it's only fair that you'll get mentioned in my new student paper." Lavender preened under the astonished stares of her house mates.

"When did you decide this?" Seamus asked. "And how will you do that?"

"A simple magical press isn't that expensive," she replied. "I'll write my parents tonight, I'm sure they'll help."

"A school paper! That's brilliant, Lavender!" Hermione nearly bounced on the bench. "You could publish study tips, and schedules, and riddles, and all the interesting things about Hogwarts that no one knows because no one ever reads Hogwarts, A History."

"I could use ideas," Lavender said generously, "and if someone wants to write articles, they're welcome."

"Will there be room for advertising?" Fred called.

"Or complaints?" George added.

"Yes to both," Lavender said loudly.

Just like that, the ice was broken and she was swarmed by curious and eager students. Even Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws migrated over to their table, displacing the less enthusiastic Gryffindors.

Nobody minded too much, though, as Hogwarts rarely had anything truly new to offer. Creating their own newspaper seemed almost outlandish to the wizardborn students, while the muggleborns were already thinking about how to get the project going - and keep it going past the first flush of excitement.

"Lavender's plan is ambitous," Hermione said, looking at the girl holding court, "but she'll be good at it, I think."

"Hogwarts might need a bit of an overhaul, though," Harry replied. "What with only one sports team and no art or sciences. What will she even write about when it's all rather boring?"

"For the allegedly premier school in the world it does seem a bit lacking," Hermione agreed. "When my parents investigated Beaubatons, they were floored by how many clubs the school offers. Music, divided by instruments, even, and art, and drama, and several different kinds of sports. Quidditch is fine, I suppose, but it's certainly a bit boring if only one team per house gets to play. We don't even have reserve teams."

"And you decided against going there to stay with me," Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry. You deserve much better."

"We all deserve better." Hermione slanted a look at the head table, where the teachers sat rather warily through the meal. "Well, if Lavender gets her newspaper - and I'll do my best to help her - then Hogwarts will have to change. Newspapers have a way of revealing faults that direct complaints will never manage, and there's a lot of suboptimal stuff to report here."

"Maybe she can start with Buckbeak." Harry pointed to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was positively gloating over a letter. "Look how satisfied he is with himself. I'm sure that means trouble."

"That whole boy means trouble," Hermione huffed.

After lunch, they all trudged to the History classroom. Nobody was keen on a lecture from Binns, and none less than Harry, who had learned a lot about goblins over the summer and couldn't stomach the thought of wasting time on yet another rebellion.

"I'll read ahead in the book," he told Hermione after they'd chosen their tables. "Don't be angry, alright?"

"I'm not angry," she smirked. "How do you think I maintained my grades?"

During class, Binns' droning made for an oddly soothing background noise. Half of their friends were asleep. If the book weren't so interesting, Harry would be half tempted to join them. History being his last class of the day made staying awake even more of a challenge. Thankfully, Hermione next to him had no problem checking every few minutes that he was still active.

"This has got to change," Harry groaned as they trudged out of the classroom. "Where are you headed now?"

"I will take one class of Muggle Studies, just to see what it's like," Hermione said. "I already cancelled, I really just want to get an impression. Next to History, I think it might be the class most in need of modernisation."

Harry eyed her warily. "Are you up to something?"

She smirked at him. "Why ever are you asking?"

Deciding that he didn't need to know right now, especially with his own club hopefully underway, he let Hermione go on and began looking for an empty room.

"This way, Harry Potter sir," Dobby called from a corner where no other students could see him and beckoned him over. "Dobby be finding perfect room for Harry Potter sir!"

"Really?" Curious, Harry followed the elf. The way was long, up to the seventh floor, and when Dobby stopped in front of a wall across from an ugly tapestry of someone who looked rather crazy, he asked, "Where is the door?"

"It be coming when Harry Potter sir be thinking about it. Harry Potter sir be walking three times along the wall. At the same time Harry Potter sir be thinking about what kind of room he be needing."

"Magic," Harry sighed, but did as he was told. To his surprise, there really appeared a sturdy door with pretty but effective looking metal reinforcements. "Uh, alright."

Carefully, he tried the knob. The door swung open easily and revealed a comfy looking study with a large window overlooking the Quidditch pitch, a fireplace, and a beautiful large desk made of dark wood.

"Why does this room only appear when people think about it?" Harry asked Dobby, stepping inside and having a closer look around. Behind him, the door closed softly, and a lock engaged.

"This be the Come And Go Room," the elf supplied readily. "Hogwarts elves be using it to store lost items. Room be everything what a visitor needs, and it be secret. It be Hogwarts room, not school room, so elves not be telling secret to students."

"But they told you, and you told me. Is it really alright?" Harry asked.

"House elves be knowing that Harry Potter sir be a great wizard. Elves be wanting to help." Dobby hopped onto the small sofa across from a wall of bookshelves. "The Come And Go Room be knowing when it be needed. Harry Potter sir could leave things here, like letters from goblins."

Thinking it over, Harry decided to decline the offer for now. "Thanks, but I'd rather have my most important things with me for now." A Gringotts letter popped up on the desk. "Speaking of mail, is this for me?"

"Dobby be picking up Harry Potter sir's mail on Fridays now, because Harry Potter sir be having time to answer it over the weekend."

"Perfect." Harry smiled at his friend. "You really know what I need."

Dobby smiled shyly. "Dobby be bringing a snack."

Left alone with fruit and tea, Harry opened the heavy envelope. It was his inheritance test with lots of legal documents attached, all of which were requiring his signature.

"Holy crap," he whispered as he read over the letter from Sharptooth. "That's what he meant when he said that we'd talk about it later. What is all this?!"

An hour would have never sufficed to explain everything to him, and it certainly wasn't something he could trust Hermione's unprotected mind with. Knowing that, it was even harder for Harry to come to terms with it.

"Typical," he sighed and fished Sirius' communication journal from his carrier bag.

September 3rd, 1993

Sirius,

I got Sharptooth's letter about my inheritance test. Did you know about this?

Love,

Harry

Sirius' scrawl appeared almost immediately.

Hey pup,

yes, I knew. I'm your guardian, at least in the goblins' eyes, and they trust me with your welfare. However, it wasn't very important, and I didn't want to ruin your trip to Hogwarts. Not any more than it already was ruined, in any case. Being the Heir of Slytherin by right of conquest is rather ruin-worthy, if I do say so myself.

Harry groaned and raked both hands through his hair before picking up his pen again.

This must be a bad joke. People leaving me money and stuff I somehow get, even if it's weird, but conquering a whole family? How? Why am I the new Head of Family? What does that even mean? It'll be ages before Sharptooth can explain all this stuff to me!

For having spent a decade in a dank, dark prison, Sirius' penmanship was astoundingly neat.

Sharptooth knows everything about it, but I'm no slouch either. Heir of an old and noble pureblood family, here, remember?

Harry giggled about the somehow playfully affronted words.

Magic can be mysterious, but Right Of Conquest is an age-old established magical phenomenon, both forged from rule of law and rule of magic, Sirius continued. In essence, magic punishes those who attack without just cause, and rewards those who persevere in the face of unjust persecution. For you, it means that You-Know-Who attacked you unjustly thrice - once as a baby, once at the end of your first year at Hogwarts, and then again at the end of your second year. As he was defeated soundly every time, magic obviously ruled you the new Head of House Slytherin's line. It's an infamous family name, it's true, but there are quite a few benefits attached to it even now.

Please explain, because my head is about to explode, Harry quickly scratched out.

Of course, pup. Being head of a house generally makes you its lord. Unless the house is noble or ancient, this doesn't mean much, other than that you are the patriarch and are expected to make decisions about your family's involvement in society: politics, marriage matches, business, etc. As House Slytherin was both noble and ancient once, but fell into ruin with its last descendants, the Gaunts, its standing is largely lost. You can revive the line now, and claim everything that still belongs to the family. Deeds to property, titles, and of course the living relatives. For better or worse, you're now responsible for them. Magic more or less expects you now to make it better.

Harry groaned. That was just great.

So I have to do another inheritance test to find out who of the Gaunts is still alive? What if they're horrible people? I don't need more of those in my life!

Sirius was quick to reassure him, however, and wrote, All done, kiddo, the goblins are thorough. Sharptooth will send the information as soon as you feel up to dealing with it. Just know that none of them are worth saving, and that the goblins will have an eye on them just in case. Maybe give yourself time until Christmas, we can talk it over then?

That calmed Harry somewhat, but there was still the matter of strange people leaving him stuff, and he wrote as much.

Sirius was sympathetic, but couldn't offer much consolation. You're their saviour, kiddo, whether you like it or not. If you want my advice, accept it gracefully and do something worthwhile with the money and land. Give it to your house elves, if you want, the little guys can always use more land to grow their food ... or yours.

Harry brightened at once. Great idea!

Just be careful. Sharptooth can get away with a lot since Dumbledore isn't able to exert influence over your holdings, and your parents left instructions to work with the money and investments, but the old man could still notice and ask unwanted questions. I propose selling the the small properties and investing the money in something bigger that your elves can actually use.

That was exactly what Harry wanted, and if it worked out, Betty and Dobby would have land to work with that wasn't as difficult as Potter's Field.

I'll tell Sharptooth to do that, he wrote. Dobby and Betty helped me out with my first two properties, they'll surely do well with more.

Although they had a hefty price tag, Sirius teased. Warding is always expensive, especially with Malijar's Gift as ward stones, but I was a little shocked at first, to be honest.

I know, me too, but I feel safe there. Like I belong, Harry answered. To me, it's worth it, and I guess the goblins wanted me to be safe, as well.

It took Sirius a while to answer, and when he did, his words looked a little unsteady. Sorry, I just needed a drink. Yes, it feels very safe in your cottage. I communed with your ward stone yesterday and it is ... invested in your wellbeing. Its efforts even extend to me, and for that I can only thank you.

You're family, Harry replied, a little unsteady himself. To distract himself from the thickness in his throat, he changed the topic. So, I'll look through the catalogue of properties this weekend, decide which ones I want to sell, and let Sharptooth know. I'll probably freak out over the Slytherin thing again soon, though.

You have all the right in the world to freak out about it, Sirius answered. I'll be here whenever you need me. Speaking of here, my healers decided that they'll likely send me away for treatment in January, and have the goblins apply for asylum for me in Italy. The ICW, the International Confederation of Wizards, has a seat there, and they'll hear special cases such as mine. For now, they want to keep me close to the mind healers and make sure that I can defend myself appropriately. Your friend Brady is a good one. I like talking to him, although he refused to take me on as a patient. Said it wouldn't be fair to us both. Still, he's an interesting fellow, and his snakes are a friendly bunch.

Yeah, I was lucky to meet him, Harry wrote. Sorry that you can't work with him, but maybe you'll become friends anyway. By the way, Professor Lupin just now agreed to teach all the students the Patronus Charm. He and Professor Flitwick will start a club just for that. I guess with almost all the school attending they'll have to split us up in smaller groups, but I really hope I'll get to study with him. He also didn't ask me about you, even though he must have smelled me on you on Wednesday. Hermione says that a werewolf's nose is even better than that of a dog. Maybe that means he wants you to be safe as well. I don't think he hates you, honest, but if you like I can try and talk to him.

Again, Sirius took a while to answer, and when he did, a couple drops of ink landed on the page and blossomed a little until they dried. I don't know, pup. Times were very dark back in the day, and I didn't trust him enough. Didn't trust him over Wormtail, of all people. If he's smart, he'll never forgive me for that, because that was absolutely shitty of me and your dad. Of course, it didn't help that Dumbledore was sending him away all the time to speak with other werewolves, but we should have known better. He was our brother in all but blood.

Harry didn't know what to say to that, except, I'm very sorry.

I'll hate myself for this until the day I die, Sirius wrote, and I'm okay with that.

Harry didn't think that it was okay for him to suffer that long, but didn't know how to tell him that without making it worse. Instead, he followed his instinct and painted his whole hand black with ink and pressed it onto the next page of the journal. With all his might, he sent a pulse of his magic into the handprint, hoping that touching it would let Sirius feel that he wasn't as alone as he thought.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the school day.

I have to go now, class is over and I don't want my friends to worry or get curious, Harry hastily scratched out. Love you, see you soon!

He packed his things, carefully putting the Gringotts letter into his weekly planner for later, and left the strange magical room.

"I'll be back next week," Harry told Dobby, who was waiting for him. "Thanks for showing me, it's awesome. Uhm, do you think I could also use it to train with Hermione? She'll show me martial arts so I can defend myself without a wand if I have to."

"It be very good idea. Dobby be popping Harry Potter sir from now on whenever he can," Dobby said. "It be safer. If Harry Potter sir be needing Dobby, Harry Potter sir be calling. Dobby be taking Miss Mione, too."

"You could open a taxi service," Harry joked. "I appreciate your help, honestly. You're the best."

Dobby flushed with pleasure. "Betty be also a very good elf. She be very handy with repairs. Betty's cooking still be needing a bit work, but Dobby will have her trained up in a snap. Harry Potter sir's dogfather not be complaining."

"He's too sad to complain," Harry sighed. "Tell Betty to be extra nice to him, yeah? He's lonely."

"Dobby will," the elf promised. "Can Dobby take Harry Potter sir to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Sure! Pop us away, Dobby!"

With a grin, Dobby did just that, and deposited Harry close to the portrait of the Fat Lady, where his friends were just arriving.

oOo

As he now knew of a room that would suit their needs perfectly, Harry asked Dobby to take him and Hermione directly there on the next morning. Dobby popped away right after, but with the promise to serve breakfast when they were done. For now, they had water and elf berry lemonade.

"Since this is your show, you should do the honours," Harry said with a grin. "Dobby says we have to walk along that wall three times and think about what kind of room we need. Then it just appears."

"Incredible. I guess he wants us to keep this to ourselves for now?" Hermione asked. To Harry, she looked fantastic with her high ponytail and worn workout clothes. Even though nothing was overly tight, it accentuated her slender, strong figure perfectly.

"Yes, but I don't think the others will need it. There are lots of empty classrooms around for whatever they want to do. This is just safer." Harry smiled. "Try it."

Hermione walked along the wall with a look of concentration on her face. As the door appeared, she jumped a little, but was curious enough to open it and go inside.

"It's perfect!" she called. "Look at this, Harry! It's just like a dojo, but what a view over the grounds! There's even a corner for meditation - and showers!" Amazed, she turned around over and over, always discovering another little thing. "This will do very well."

"I'm glad. How do we start?" Harry wanted to know. He placed his bottle and towel against the wall of the room. "People do warm-ups before doing the serious stuff, right?"

"True," Hermione said and grinned a little. "But you're such a beginner that we'll start from scratch. After all, it won't hurt to give you the whole experience."

"The whole experience?" Harry followed her to the meditation corner and goggled when she took off her shoes. "Wait, what's this?"

"To be able to fight, your mind has to be on board," Hermione explained. "We'll start with just five minutes of meditation. It's not what you think; all you need to do is breathe deeply and stay completely in the moment." She sat down, folded herself into a prezel-like position, and patted the space in front of her. "Come, sit. I'll show you."

Harry sat. "Like this?" Something in his right leg twinged and he eased away from copying her position. "Ouch."

She giggled. "Crosslegged is just fine, Harry. Now watch." Closing her eyes, Hermione straightened, placed her hands palm up onto her knees and began to breathe deeply and evenly. "Just like this. In, and out. Make it as deep as you're comfortable with, and concentrate on that. Count the seconds for each breath in and out, if you like. It helps me stay focused."

"Alright, that doesn't seem too hard." Harry closed his eyes, mimicked Hermione's hand placement, and straightened himself.

The first few breaths were a little strange because he felt rather exposed, but it soon got easier. Counting the seconds helped as well; he breathed four seconds in and six seconds out. Just as he'd gotten into a nice rhythm, the time was up and Hermione gently tapped his knee to pull him back.

"That went rather well," she said, brown eyes shining with pride. "Now we can slowly start our warm-up."

Slow still kicked Harry's butt, even though he didn't notice at the time. He had a lot of experience running from Dudley and his gang, but apparently that didn't translate into running mellow laps and doing a few primary school sports exercises throughout. Worse, they only did that for about twenty minutes and Harry was already winded. Hermione hadn't even broken a sweat, yet.

"Okay, that's enough for today. Are you ready for some kicks and punches?" she asked.

Harry groaned even as he nodded. "That's the whole point, isn't it? But you're killing me, 'Mione."

"Nah, not yet," she laughed. "Come on, copy my stance. Fist always like this, or you'll hurt yourself." She looked absurdly comfortable throwing punches, and was a surprisingly patient teacher when it came to correcting Harry's form. "That looks good!" she said a little while later. "Now kicks. Just one today, the front kick."

She demonstrated, first slowly, all the while explaining why she did what she was doing. She was also hissing out on each kick, which was quite strange to Harry.

"I know you don't speak parsel, but it sounds just like sucker when you do that," Harry informed her. He fought a grin. "It's oddly appropriate."

Hermione stared at him. "For real?"

"Yep. Why do it, though?"

She smiled. "It's a little weird, but hissing out helps to focus the energy, and also distracts a little from the pain of impact. Now, there are a lot of ways to do a front kick - it depends on the kind of martial arts as much as it does the situation in a fight - but all require good body tension. Like this ..." She demonstrated again slowly, but this time she had Harry press his fingers against her midriff. "Feel that? It's all engaged. You need to be engaged for this to work, otherwise you could really hurt yourself. Now try. Your right leg first."

She had him do a few kicks with each leg, again correcting him gently. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed when she stopped again, but it felt like mere moments.

"Last but not least a few blocks," Hermione said with a wink. "You did very well so far, Harry. I'm really proud of you."

Patiently she guided him through the first, easy block. First with his right hand, then with the left, and then, when he had that one down, going a bit faster every time.

"It has to come instinctively," she said as Harry clumsily blocked her fist. "That'll take time, there's nothing for it. Just like the kicks and punches, you'll have to do this over and over and over again, until it's become second nature. Even as you learn new things, we'll always turn back to the beginning, because this is the foundation of it all."

"Got it," Harry panted. He grinned proudly as he deflected her punch. "It's such an easy move, but it really works!"

"It does," she said and smiled back. "Ready for another?"

Harry was.

After another fifteen minutes, and ten minutes of stretching, they visited the showers and then sat down at the suddenly there bistro table where Dobby had already served breakfast.

"This looks fantastic," Hermione sighed happily as she spread butter onto a slice of still slightly warm herb bread. "My parents sometimes put fruit on the table, but mostly we're too lazy to bother."

"Dobby is a wizard in the kitchen," Harry joked, enjoying her pleasure. "Eat up, he'll bring more if we manage this lot."

Hungrily, they decimated the feast before them until they could hardly move.

"Don't do this once we start in earnest," Hermione warned him. "Your muscles will get sore and press on your stomach. I don't want you to barf."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He frowned thoughtfully. "But when will I eat? I mean, I want to keep doing this."

"You can eat whenever you like," she replied. "Just not huge portions. Eat snacks whenever you can - the healthy kind of course. You'll need proper food to build muscle and agility. The worst thing is eating right before training. Don't even drink too much because barfing can happen on a water tummy, too."

"Sounds like it'll be a bit of work," Harry said. "I didn't know martial arts were so complicated."

Hermione laughed a little. "They're not. You just have to get used to it."

"Noted." Harry cast a lazy tempus. "It's past ten already. Do you think we should head back?"

"Give me a few more minutes. I'm basking." Hermione laughed again at his incredolous look. "Honestly, I've missed this. If Dobby doesn't mind, I'd like to come here on my own sometimes to exercise. I love helping you, but if I've got such a great dojo at my disposal, I'd like to do it right."

"You don't even have to ask." Harry took her hand and held it gently. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's fun, and it refreshes my muscle memory."

Half an hour later they were back in the Gryffindor common room, only to be greeted by a school owl with a note.

"It's from Dumbledore," Harry said after reading it. "Neville's gran is here and I am to meet them in the headmaster's office."

"I'd come with you, but Professor Dumbledore would probably send me away," Hermione said with a huff. "What about Professor Lupin? He wanted to take care of your appeal for you."

"I'll have my good friend ask him if he wants to come." Harry smiled grimly. "I won't let the headmaster win."

Hermione nodded and sent him on his way with a kiss to his cheek.

This soon after the holidays, a lot of students were out and about. Most came from breakfast, but a rather large percentage of them was actually leaving to catch some sunshine on the grounds or fly a little. Whenever someone greeted Harry, he waved back, but he didn't allow himself to be distracted from his meeting.

Professor Lupin met him at the gargoyle, face serious but amber eyes gleaming rather mischievously. "You ready, Harry?"

Harry lifted his chin and repeated what he'd already told Hermione, "I won't let him win, Professor."

"Good, then let's go." Lupin gave a password to the gargoyle and they rode up the stairs in silence.

The office door swung open without them having to knock, and the first thing Harry saw upon entering was the vulture hat that Neville had put on his boggart's head. Confronted with that, Professor McGonagall standing next to Fawke's perch went almost unnoticed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Harry managed to say, eyes heroically not straying to Augusta Longbottom's extravagant head dress again. He offered his hand and bowed over it when it was given. "How are you doing?"

"Well, well, at least he has manners," Mrs. Longbottom said. "Well met, Mr. Potter. My Neville told me some things about you."

"None of it too horrible, I hope," Harry replied, suddenly worried.

Mrs. Longbottom's stern lips twitched a little. "Not yet, you may rest assured. Now let's talk about this absolute nonsense regarding the boy's electives, Albus, so we can get on with our day. Visiting hours at St. Mungo's have already started."

"Certainly, Augusta. But first, take a seat, please, Harry and Remus. Tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?" Dumbledore smiled slightly. "No? Well then. Harry-"

"Albus, if I may?" Remus interrupted. After the headmaster's nod, he said, "Considering that this is an official hearing regarding the educational situation of a student, even if that student is your ward, I propose to keep it professional. It's Mr. Potter from now on, just for the record."

"Yes, of course, I apologize." Dumbledore's mild expression never wavered, but Harry thought he could detect a hint of impatience in his eyes. "Mr. Potter, you applied for a change of electives this summer-"

"Which is his right as a student," Mrs. Longbotton said severely.

"Yes, of course. However, after reviewing Mr. Potter's choice to exchange Divination with not one but two very demanding subjects, I decided to overrule Professor McGonagall's initial agreement on the grounds that the lad had need of a more relaxed experience at school. After these last two years, some quiet surely wouldn't go amiss."

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are certainly demanding subjects, but even as his magical guardian by proxy your interference is more than just questionable, Albus."

Even if it was a little uncomfortable to see two old people quarrel, Harry couldn't help but admire Augusta Longbottom. Her no-nonsense attitude actually made his heart beat faster, and it got even better!

"It is your job to make the school safe for your student, especially if that student also is your ward," Mrs. Longbottom continued. "I'm concerned about this as well, to be honest. I don't like what I've been hearing these past two years, and neither do Child Protection Services."

Chastised, Dumbledore blinked.

Mrs. Longbottom turned to Harry. "There are several more students in your year with the exact same electives, therefore it is unreasonable to deny you your choices." To Dumbledore, she said, "Even with Mr. Potter's special circumstances, his grades were solid, so you can't explain your decision with poor performance. I've told you this before, Albus, as has Minerva. I would have you explain yourself to all of our satisfaction before your stubbornness forces me to involve the whole board."

"Maybe not the best idea, considering what Lucius Malfoy is already up to," Remus said mildly. "I rather thought that Hogwarts shouldn't be involved in yet another scandal so shortly after the incident with the Chamber of Secrets and Hagrid's hippogriff."

"Especially not with the newly founded student newspaper underfoot," Professor McGonagall added. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought she sounded a little gleeful.

"Albus, your explanation," Mrs. Longbottom demanded. "Now, if you please."

Dumbledore deflated a little and stood from his chair. His robe was garishly yellow and dotted with lilac moons and silver stars, usually a source of some cheer. Right now, it made him look pale and diminished.

"Ah, Augusta, as usual you're cutting right to the heart of the matter. I will explain. Mr. Potter ... I ask that you hear me out and consider my reason before making your final decision. Can you do that?"

"I can," Harry said, not sounding very graceful and not caring one bit.

"Very well. It is true, the events of the last two years are the reason why I wanted my ward to have a quieter time of it. Difficult subjects lend themselves to frustration, and I wanted to prevent young Mr. Potter from damaging his already fragile relationship with the rest of the students."

"You mean the bullying he suffered last year," Mrs. Longbotton said baldly. "Honestly, Albus, stop beating around the bush. You didn't do enough to protect the boy - honestly, you're all not doing enough to protect the students in this school! - and I find it rather amazing that you now think to punish the boy for your failings. You'll have to do better than that."

"I especially have a reason to keep Harry in the Divination class." Remus cleared his throat in warning, but Dumbledore ignored him as he continued, "I want him to learn that there's more to magic than spells and potions. As Minerva is so fond of saying, divination is a woolly subject, but that doesn't mean that someone with the sight doesn't have some worthwhile knowledge to impart. I wanted to prepare my ward for the possibility of more."

"Then you can teach him that yourself, or arrange for a few private lessons with Sybill, or just give him a bloody book." Mrs. Longbottom glowered at Dumbledore. "That not a good enough reason to deny the boy a well-rounded education. Mr. Potter, are you willing to indulge the headmaster?"

"No, ma'am," Harry said at once.

She sniffed. "I hereby overturn your decision, Albus, and if you dare to test me, I'll drag the whole board here on Monday and hold the hearing in the great hall, in public, making attendance for all students mandatory."

Be still, my heart, Harry thought in utter delight.

Dumbledore wilted another inch. "I fear that you're making a mistake, Harry, but I see that I'll have to bow to the decision of the board spokeswoman." He bowed shallowly at Mrs. Longbottom. "Your reasons are sound, of course, madam, I just wish you had a sense for the bigger picture."

"Don't madam me, and don't be a sore loser," Mrs. Longbottom snapped. "Let the boy go to his classes and keep your nose out of business that doesn't concern you. And Minerva, if I ever catch you not informing a student of their rights in such communications again, you'll get your first letter of reprimand. I'm only letting you off the hook this time because I know who's really behind it."

"It won't happen again," Professor McGongall said through pinched lips. Her cold glare at Dumbledore made even Harry shiver. "Mr. Potter, this meeting is over. You may join your friends."

"He'll accompany me to the front gate," Mrs. Longbottom said imperiously, taking up her purse and patting her skirt down. "Professor Lupin may join us, as protection against those foul things you both have failed to keep away from the school."

Harry followed Professor Lupin out the door and then fell into step with Neville's grandmother.

"Thank you," he said with utmost sincerity. "You were absolutely awesome!"

She smirked. "Thank you. I'll be frank: putting old, silly men in their place is a favourite pastime of mine."

In front of them, Lupin snorted with laughter.

Mrs. Longbottom narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Now that I've had the opportunity to meet you, I'd like to know why you haven't yet confirmed your godbrother bond with my Neville?"

"Er, what?" Harry stared at her, nonplussed.

"Neville is your godbrother, young man," Mrs. Longbottom repeated. "Surely you knew that?"

"No, I can't say I did. He never said anything." Her gimplet stare prompted him to volunteer even more information. "Uhm, and neither did anyone else?"

The formidable lady took a deep breath. Her face was so forbidding that Harry imagined that this was how a dragon might look like before it spewed fire.

"Your magical guardian didn't tell you that you have a godbrother?" she asked slowly. "Has Dumbledore ever told you anything about your family? Anything important at all?"

Harry wracked his brain but could only think of the cloak of invisibility. While the cloak was very important to him, the corresponding conversation had been nearly nonexistent. "No, ma'am. I don't think so. At least not before I came here."

"Next you'll tell me that he's never taken you to see your parents' estate, or their graves!" Mrs. Longbottom looked ready to pop a vein at his meek headshake, not unlike Uncle Vernon when he was close to a full-blown rage. "Why, I've never!" She stopped, turned on her heel, and hissed, "We'll finish our talk another time, Mr. Potter. I need to have a couple more words with Dumbledore! Good day."

As soon as she was gone, Harry stared up at Lupin. "She's scary, but I think I'm a little in love."

Lupin snorted again. "You and several other men who haven't lost their common sense yet. She's definitely something else. Now, she seemed intent on talking about you and her grandson. Why don't you go find Neville and ask him what this is all about?"

"Yeah, I should probably do that. Thanks, Professor." Harry waved and trotted off.

He and Hermione didn't have any plans other than their training, so he checked the Gryffindor common room first and the greenhouses second, where he found Neville with his hands in the dirt.

"Hey Neville," he said and sat on an overturned bucket. Around him, half a dozen or so pink blossoms of a large bush snuck close and let their petals brush over his ears and hair. "Eh, that tickles! I just met your grandma. She, er, convinced Dumbledore to let me have my electives."

"Congratulations," Neville said and smiled. "I knew that she'd make it right."

"She also wanted to know why we haven't confirmed our godbrother bond yet." Harry sighed when the other boy flinched guiltily. "Neville, why didn't you ever say something?"

Neville's shoulders slumped. "I don't know. You're so brave and I'm so pathetic. I just ... I didn't know how."

"Just telling me generally works out pretty well," Harry said, a little exasperated. "We're as good as brothers, Neville! To me, that's a big deal! If I'd known in first year, a lot of things would've probably gone differently."

"I'm sorry." Neville abandoned his work and sat on another bucket. "I really, really didn't think you'd want to. Not after meeting Ron and being such fast friends."

"Ron is a prat a lot of the time," Harry said. "And I can always do with more friends and family. I'm really sorry if I made you think that I wouldn't want you."

"You didn't," Neville said quietly. "I'm really very sorry. If you still want to ..."

"Yes," Harry sait immediately. "I'd like to know what it means before we confirm this bond, but I do."

They stared around for a few moments, unsure of what else to say.

Then, Harry remembered what Mrs. Longbottom had said about visiting hours at St. Mungos. He asked, "Is your gran going to St. Mungo's often? She mentioned it in Dumbledore's office."

Neville nodded. "She's going to see my parents every week."

"Wait, what? Your parents are alive?" Harry was shocked. "You always talk about them as if they were gone, same as mine."

"They might as well be." When Harry didn't say anything, Neville asked, "You don't want to ask me about it?"

"No more than you want to talk about it," Harry said and shrugged. "They're your parents."

"Thanks, Harry. And also sorry for my grandmum. She can be ... intense."

Harry broke out into a wide grin. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Er, sure?"

"I adore your grandmum. She ran over Dumbledore like a ... a stampeding hippogriff. If I am half as tough as her when I'm grown, I've done everything right."

Neville choked on his spit. "You're kidding me!"

"Nope." Harry grinned even more. "She absolutely slayed the headmaster."

"Uh, okay. If you're sure."

Rising from his perch, Harry clapped Neville on the shoulder. "She did me a huge favour there, so I'm allowed a little hero worship, right? She even went back to tear into Dumbledore some more when I told her that I've never seen my parents' graves, or the estate."

"If he's really your magical guardian, he deserves it," Neville said with a sudden scowl. "I mean, I couldn't quite believe it when you said he was, but if my grandma is up there screaming at him ... wow. I don't know what to say, except sorry. If I'd been more brave, I could've told you a few things about your family."

Guiltily thinking of Sirius and his family's grimoire, Harry demurred. "I have time for that, and now that I know what he kept from me, I'll bug him about it. Constantly."

Instead of the expected smile, Neville merely nodded grimly. "You should. It's your legacy, after all. Some heirs of old families take up their first duties at thirteen, and usually a magical guardian is eager to let go of the resposibility."

"You, too?"

"Yes." Neville grimaced. "I'm all that's left of the direct family line. My grandma is great with our finances, and luckily I inherited my grandpa's green thumb so our business will keep prospering, but she's not getting any younger and wants me to take business classes and whatnot. Everything to help the goblins manage our estate."

Harry grimaced as well. "Sounds boring."

"Well, I'd rather work in my greenhouses and on the fields," Neville admitted, "but business management isn't so bad in our world. The contracts are way easier, and are usually enforced by magic. First rule: if one's not, don't sign it. The muggles don't have that advantage. The little bit my uncle showed me of it last summer seemed like a horrid mess. Everybody always seems to try to cheat someone else."

"Ugh, lucky us, then, I guess."

"Oh, before I forget again, thank you for your birthday present," Neville said. "Where did you get a cutting from a whomping willow? It's not from Hogwarts' tree, they don't feel the same."

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked carefully.

"Just curious, because they don't come exactly cheap and they're quite tightly regulated."

"Er, I got it from a private seller," Harry said, cringing a little about his faux-pas. When Dobby had brought it from Potter's Field as a last minute present for Neville, he'd just run with it. "I'd better not say any more."

"It's fine, Harry." Neville laughed a little. "The one you gave me is an endangered subspecies. Still rather aggressive, but also protective of other plants. I've planted her close to our most profitable potion ingredients. She already knows me and lets me care for her without problems."

"She?"

"You got me a girl." Neville grinned. "I can't wait to see how much she'll have grown when I go home for Yule."

"Huh, seems like everybody will go home this year."

"Maybe not everybody, but most families will want their heirs close to get a few lessons in management in. And to show them off to the family, of course."

Harry frowned. "Where's the difference in just celebrating together?"

Neville suddenly flushed a little. "Right. I forgot that you don't know much about our customs and stuff. Presenting the heirs at Yule, and showing off some accomplishments, is kind of rubbing it into the faces of the cadet lines that the main line is still going strong, and ready to lead for another generation. If the families like each other, great ..."

"... but that's not always the case?" Harry guessed. "This is so strange and complicated."

"Well, not really. I mean, if you take your relatives, you're the cadet line in that scenario," Neville explained. "I know that you don't really like them, so that's a pretty good example."

Harry had almost forgotten the Dursleys after the shock with the Slytherin thing, but even so their mention could barely rouse him. After the summer he'd had they were already in his past, and nothing would get them back into the present if he could help it.

"They show off my cousin often enough," Harry admitted and smiled crookedly. "Alright, it's nearly time for lunch, and I'm hungry. Are you coming up with me?"

"Er, if you're sure, Harry?" Neville looked so hopeful that Harry felt even worse for not being a better friend in the past.

"Of course I am. Brothers, remember?"

Since Neville had to scrub his hands before he'd be allowed at the table, Harry used the small break to drink down his potion and refresh himself with a smart charm.

They were early for lunch on a weekend, but a few of their friends were already sitting at the table and beckoned them over cheerfully.

"Well?" Hermione asked as soon as Harry had sat across from her. "How did it go with Neville's gran?"

"She's a warrior and I can join you in class next week," Harry told her and all of their friends succinctly. "Case closed."

"It better be," Hermione grumbled. "What was the headmaster's reason?"

"Oh, you'll love this ..." Harry told them what Dumbledore had said, trying to be as exact as possible. Their astonishment and anger was amusing, now that the situation was resolved. "Yeah, I thought it was total hogwash, too."

"What does he even mean by more?" Ron asked between two bites. "Divination is only really interesting for peope with the Sight. The rest of us just have to study a little to fudge around with tea leaves and stuff. As I said, an easy pass."

"Maybe Dumbledore means that Professor Trelawney has made a true prophecy once and wants him to experience what real divination is like," Lavender pondered. "She's kind of famous for it; there aren't many true seers in Great Britain."

"Even so, why is that important for Harry?" Hermione asked. "Why put him in a class just to hopefully have him experience the giving of a prophecy? Or any bit of future-telling, I suppose. There seems to be an abundance of possibilites for that."

"Well ..." Ron cleared his throat, "everybody knows that Dumbledore is You-Know-Who's greatest opponent, right? What if this stuff is somehow important to the headmaster to fight You-Know-Who? Maybe he needs Harry as a trigger or something, so Trelawney will find out something about the war?"

"Doesn't that seem a little farfetched?" Parvati asked sceptically.

Ron shrugged. "Sure, but if that wasn't the reason, the headmaster would've tried to keep Harry from doing what he wants just because he can. And I'm not sure I can believe that."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip. "Your guess is as good as any, Ron. And the strategy might be sound ... but I don't know a thing about divination. What say you, Lavender? Or Parvati? Could a foretelling be triggered like that?"

"No one knows," Lavender said with a little huff. "People sure wish they did, but no study about prophecies ever brought results. Seers just give them when the time is right. I've never heard that this can be influenced."

"Me neither," Parvati agreed, "but I could ask Padma. Ravenclaw has a lot of books exclusively in the tower. She might find something there."

Hermione nodded gratefully. "Thanks, that'll work."

"We'll keep an eye on Professor Trelawney," Lavender said. "She's a bit strange, but she's not a bad person or anything. If something happens, we'll let you know."

Dean and Seamus came up them then, and Ron abandoned the topic at once in favour of a pick-up quidditch game. "Can I borrow your broom, mate?" he asked over his shoulder, barely sparing Harry a glance. "I can get it myself if you want to stay here for a bit longer."

"Maybe Harry wants to play as well," Hermione said a bit tartly. "Or do you want to exclude him so you can take his broom?"

Her raised eyebrow had Seamus crossing himself with a chuckle. "Merlin, no, 'course he can, if he wants to. It's just that Ginny claimed Seeker already and we weren't sure he'd like another position."

"I don't, and I'm not keen on just flying today, either. You can use my broom, Ron. But only you. If it breaks before the matches start, Professor McGonagall will kill me," Harry replied. "You have to promise."

"Yes, of course." Ron jumped up. "Can we get it now?"

"Let him finish his lunch," Hermione sighed with an eyeroll. "Honestly, Ronald. The world doesn't revolve around quidditch."

"That's where you're wrong," Dean smirked. "To us, it does."

Harry probably had a little too much fun seeing Ron squirm and huff about his slow eating, but at last they were on their way to Gryffindor tower.

"You know, you could've taken your time if you hadn't locked up your trunk," Ron remarked as they stepped through the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Darn inconvenient, isn't it?"

"I rather like knowing what's going on with my stuff," Harry replied unapologetically and ignored Ron's reddening cheeks. With a loud click the trunk unlocked. Everything was perfectly in order, his shrunken broom carefully strapped to the lid of the trunk. "There you go. Only you Ron, I mean it."

"I already promised," Ron whined. "Can I have it now? I could fly right out of the dorm window, would cut the way to the pitch down to nothing ..."

"Professor McGonagall would have your hide." Harry handed the Nimbus over and unshrunk it with a muttered spell.

"Thanks, mate. Er, what will you be doing if you're not playing with us?" Ron asked. "Don't say you'll do homework, please. We've only been here for a couple of days."

"Nah, I'll probably take a walk around the lake or something, get a bit sunshine and stuff. It's already getting colder."

"Yeah, best enjoy that while we can." Ron saluted playfully. "Thanks again, see you later!"

And off he went, running from the dorm and down the stairs into the common room. Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to his trunk.

There was a new journal lying on top of his things which hadn't been there a moment ago. It was bound in green leather and had the healers' symbol on the cover.

"Er, what is this?" he asked intelligently.

Dobby popped up next to him. "This be present from Healer Williams. He be saying that Harry Potter sir's dogfather be genius and that having talky session be no problem now. Healer Williams be asking whether Harry Potter sir be having time on Sunday for a chat."

"I think so." Harry searched around for his athame and, upon finding it, quickly bound the journal to him with blood. "All done. Sirius could earn a fortune with those." He opened the journal, found a pen, and quickly jotted down a note so Brady would know that he'd received his present.

The healer's reply was almost instantaneous.

September 4th, 1993

Hey Harry,

Good to know that you'll be able to make Sunday work. What time would be good for you?

-Brady

Harry didn't have to think very much about it.

How about five in the afternoon? We don't have much homework yet, so the time is perfect for me.

That's fine, Brady answered. With the salary Gringotts is paying me, I'm always available for you. Just let me know. Once school is in full swing, we'll find out if it can stay that way. Once a week is still alright for you?

Yes, actually. I've got a lot to tell you.

Brady drew a little smiley face. Good things, I hope! Now go, enjoy the weather. Snake sends his regards, as does Portos. He's still a bit disgruntled that you left your warm nest that night he was over for a visit. He asks that you make it up to him.

I'll be home for Yule; if Gringotts says he can, I'll gladly have him over again. A warm feeling spread in Harry's chest, and he grinned. Tell him I'm looking forward to it. If Dobby is to be believed, the first garden gnomes are moving into the garden now.

They wrote their goodbyes and Harry finally made his way outside. Hermione cought up to him and, after making sure that Harry didn't mind her presence, fell into step beside him. Hand in hand, they marched once around the Black Lake, enjoying the Scottish highlands and the slightly tangy, cool air.

"The light is really beautiful today," she said with an appreciative sigh. "I didn't know you went on walks."

"I didn't do it often last year, but if we're doing the martial arts thing, I could probably do with something to relax and stretch out my muscles. My legs are already starting to hurt."

Hermione grinned and tilted her head slightly. "Then you've done it right. But I thought flying relaxes you?"

"When do I ever really have time just to fly?" Harry asked. "Usually it's just Wood tormenting us during training, and then quidditch matches."

"Yes, those aren't relaxing at all," Hermione agreed. She gripped Harry's hand a little tighter. "You'll probably do this alone sometimes, but I love taking walks, and, uhm ... I'd really like it if we could do this together every now and then."

"Like dates?" Harry asked.

"Maybe." She flushed a little. "It's unfortunate that you can't come to Hogsmeade, but being away from the castle kind of counts as well, doesn't it?"

"To me, it does." Harry smiled at her. "Thanks for thinking of it."

"I'll bring a picnic," Hermione huffed. "And if you need someting from Hogsmeade, I'll buy it for you."

They reached a small ledge and stood right at the edge to watch the giant squid as it lazily swam through the lake. Harry thought that a date like this was already rather perfect. There were no expectations of romantic words; just being together and talking about everything that crossed their minds was enough.

As the lake was very big, several kilometers around, in fact, Harry and Hermione only entered the castle when dinner had already started. The hall was full and it was impossible to get a seat with their friends. Harry just shrugged and pulled Hermione back to the very end of the table, where some first and second years sat.

"Hey, Harry!" Colin Creevey called. "Will you sit with us tonight?"

"Sure, but only if you keep your camera away," Harry replied. "Who are your friends?"

"This is my brother Dennis," Colin said, clapping a tiny boy on the back. "He's a huge fan."

"He's really talking to me!" Dennis squeaked excitedly. "Can I have your autograph, Harry?"

Hermione smirked at Harry. "If he gets one, I want one, too. Maybe on one of Colin's many pictures."

"You're horrid," Harry grumbled and elbowed her. "Just so you know, I'll find out what I can do about all these newspaper articles and stupid books and stuff."

"Well, if someone could do with a lawyer, it's probably you," Colin gushed. "He could write up all kinds of contracts for you, Harry!" He fumbled with something in his robe pocket and pulled out an amateurish business card. "I wanted to ask about a contract for your photos - my dad said that it's not nice to just take pictures. 'Specially not if I want to sell them to newspapers, maybe."

"I'm glad you understand that now," Hermione said with an approving smile. She elbowed Harry back. "Better get a lawyer, then, to sort this out."

"You think you're joking," Harry retorted. Inwardly, his thoughts were already churning. "But enough about me. How did you like your first few days at Hogwarts?"

The first years talked all over themselves, which made Hermione giggle and Harry blush with embarrassment.

All in all, dinner with the younger students was surprisingly fun. Later, as Harry was sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn and writing a longish entry into his Sirius-journal, he felt grateful to Colin for bringing yet another matter to his attention.

It's time that these stupid book vanish from the bookstores, he wrote. Please tell me that there's something I can do to stop people from believing that I grew up like a pampered little prince and went on adventures to slay dragons and stuff.

Sirius was still awake and ready to reassure him. Of course you can do something about it, pup. I'll contact Sharptooth, he'll find us the meanest lawyer available. It's not like I won't need one anyway as soon as the ICW has taken on my case.

Thanks, Siri. I appreciate it. Also, sorry for keeping you awake.

Not much to do here, Sirius replied. You keep thinking about what you need and I'll do my best to make it happen.

Harry grinned. You're enjoying this, aren't you?

What, preparing to be mean to people who sent me to hell for a decade without cause? You bet I am. Although I'd need the help of your little friends for my more devious plans.

Out of the question, Harry hastily scribbled. Get your own to do your dirty work!

Sirius wasn't insulted at all. Oh, I will, just as soon as you tell me how you managed to attract your two. A nice house elf would be a really welcome change.

I didn't know you could have bad experiences with house elves, Harry wrote. The ones I've met so far were super nice and helpful.

The one in my family wasn't. If he's even still alive, he'd jump at the chance to betray me to the Ministry. But that's a story for another day, kiddo. Time for bed and all that! Your bud Brady keeps telling me that I have to do adult things sometimes so you'll be able to accept me as your guardian and let me do stuff for you.

I've already accepted you as my friend, if that helps, Harry replied, adding a cheeky smiley to his words. I'm tired, though. Hermione really kicked my butt in training today. We'll do it only three times a week for now, but I'll probably have sore muscles all the time from now on.

Sounds dreadful, Sirius scribbled, his words kind of winking at Harry. But you'll probably sleep very well tonight. Sweet dreams, kiddo. I miss you.

I miss you too, Siri. Sleep well!

Regretfully, Harry closed his journal and stuffed it beneath a pillow. Knowing that his godfather was lonely and sad made him wish that Dobby could pop him over there right now. A cuddle with Sirius until the sadness passed seemed like the best thing in the world right that moment.

As he drifted off, a vague idea formed in his mind.

If I can't be with him, I can make sure he finds a nice house elf for himself to keep him company. Dobby might know one who needs a good home. He always knows what I need.

oOo

Sundays were for sleeping in, and Harry slept for so long that he didn't bother getting down to the great hall for breakfast. Instead, Dobby popped him to the Come And Go Room, which was already in existence and could only mean that Hermione had taken advantage of it for her personal training.

She opened when he knocked and eagerly pulled him inside.

"Are you nearly finished?" Harry asked.

Hermione smiled. "Yes. I only have a bit more yoga to do. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No, I could eat," Harry admitted. "Uhm, can I watch?"

"Sure, I've got no problems with that."

For a few minutes, Harry unabashedly stared as his girlfriend flowed from one position into the next, all the while breathing calmly and deeply. She looked competent and in charge, and also very relaxed ... not to mention very attractive. Then Dobby appeared with two glasses of lemonade, and he decided to act on his impulse from last night.

"Hey Dobby," he said quietly after casting the muffliato spell. "I wondered whether you knew an elf who needs a family."

Dobby's huge eyes widened even more. "Harry Potter sir needs another elf?"

"Not for me, for Sirius," Harry explained. "He's lonely and said that his family elf was a bad one. Betty takes great care of him, we both know that, but it's not the same."

"Dobby will investigate," Dobby said, eyes still wide and gleaming. "Can Dobby bring Harry Potter sir breakfast now?"

"As soon as Hermione is done. Thank you."

Ten minutes later, Harry enjoyed a huge brunch spread. Hermione helped him eat and she even asked for one of the strawberry-flavoured nutritional potions.

"I'll pay you back," she said after emptying her vial with a pleased hum. "They're just so good, I couldn't resist."

"I've got a goblin potion book somewhere," Harry said. "I wanted to try and make my own. If you want to help ..."

"Absolutely!" Hermione gave the empty vial back. "Before you told me, I didn't know that the goblins brewed potions. I didn't even know they had healers, for pity's sake. Why doesn't anyone teach us this stuff?"

"History really is a joke," Harry agreed. "I got to know the goblins pretty well over the summer, and everything Binns is teaching us is an insult to them. I think I'll protest and ask my account manager at Gringotts to reduce the Hogwarts tuiton. I'm not paying for something I'm not receiving, and History is a core subject."

Hermione smirked into her tea. "And people call me a troublemaker."

"Well, I'm not asking others to join me," Harry replied with a shrug. "But the goblins are my friends. It'll make them happy."

It was early afternoon when they finally left the Come And Go Room. Hagrid hadn't written a letter yet, but Harry knew how miserable the man was and convinced Hermione to visit him.

"I can't believe Ron blew us off like that," she huffed as they trotted along the path to Hagrid's hut. "How important can flying be?"

"I'm not angry about it," Harry said and pointed at the hippogriff corral. "Maybe Hagrid will let us meet some of the other hippogriffs. Don't you want to fly on one?"

"I'm afraid of heights," Hermione mumbled, flushing with embarrassment. "I wasn't good on a broom, how do you think I'd do on an animal with its own head?"

"Oh. I didn't know that." Concerned for her, Harry squeezed her hand. "I just thought that it'd be great to do something like that together. Buckbeak was great, honestly."

Hermione smiled weakly. "I believe you. It's definitely not his fault."

They reached the hut and knocked. Inside, Fang started barking and he only stopped after having slobbered all over Harry and Hermione's faces and hands.

"It's good ter see yer," Hagrid said and smiled about their whines of dismay. "Eh, one quick spell an' all is forgotten, right? Come in, I'll make tea."

Hermione whipped out her wand and cleaned up both Harry and herself.

"How are you doing, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "Are there any news?"

"Well, Malfoy ran to his father, o' course," Hagrid said gruffly. "An' ol' Lucius naturally ran to the minister. It doesn't look good for Buckbeak."

"He's not at fault," Hermione said, lifting her chin. "We're working on it, Hagrid, I promise. Malfoy won't be able to do anything to him."

"Once the Prophet brings the article, there's nothin' anyone can do for poor Beaky. He's no' even mine; I borrowed him and his herd from a friend." Hagrid pulled out a huge handkerchief and blew his nose. "The minister is worse than a niffler, always lookin' fer gold. Ol' Lucius certainly has enough of tha'."

"As I said, he won't get away with it." Hermione stood and readied the tea cups. "Don't worry so much, Hagrid. We loved our first class, even if hippogriffs are a bit, er, demanding."

"I wanted to ask if we can visit with them, in fact," Harry quickly added to cheer Hagrid up.

"Yer really want ter see 'em?" Hagrid trumpeted one last time into his handkerchief. "Well, why not, then? Le' me jus' start the tea ..." He poured the hot water into the pot and tapped it with his pink umbrella. "Er, that's jus' ter keep it fresh, yeah?"

"Your secret is safe with us," Hermione said. "Who's this friend you got the hippogriffs from?"

"I met 'im in Greece," the giant replied, eyes already dry again. "Such a decent fellow. Dirty rich, o' course, but that's why he offered me the herd when I told 'im I'd been made professor. Beaky is one of his best stallions. I can' lose 'im."

"And you won't. Hello, hippogriffs." Hermione stopped at the corral fence and bowed to them all. Harry followed, and a minute later the whole herd bowed back. "Oh, they're all coming here! Eek!" A smaller hippogriff - a mare, Hagrid told them - with a lot of red and brown feathers, butted her beak into Hermione's hands and quite insistently demanded to be petted. "Uh, they're friendly today."

"They feel that yer' a friend," Hagrid said and gently patted her shoulder. "Yer a good sort, Hermione. Magical creatures have a nose for that."

Harry was busy stroking Buckbeak's beak and cheeks and laughed when two others crowded close for a turn. "They're awesome. We don't even have any ferrets with us."

"Yer wanna fly?" Hagrid asked. "They can have some after."

"Er, no, Hermione's afraid of heights and I don't want to go without her," Harry declined, a bit regretful but also resolved.

"Actually ..." Hermione took a deep breath and scratched her hippogriff between the eyes. "She's very nice. Maybe I'd like to try after all. But only if it's not too fast or too high. Alright?"

"Agapi knows how ter behave. Come, I'll get yer up her back. Wait fer me, Harry, better not try this alone ..." Hagrid sat Hermione onto Agapi's back and did the same for Harry, who had no choice but to ride Buckbeak, as he snapped at the other two eager hippogriffs. "Now," he told the animals sternly, "just once along the border, and no funny business with 'em mean dementors, alrigh'?"

Buckbeak snorted and Agapi pecked at Hagrid.

"Okay, then ... go!" Hagrid slapped the animals' rumps and hooted as they gallopped off, further down the hill, wings already spread wide and wind catching beneath the feathers. "Remember! One round!"

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Hermione screeched. Agapi screeched with her, although clearly in exhilariation, and then they took off.

Harry laughed even as Hermione shrieked. "It's okay!" he called. "Hold her around the neck! You're strong, you won't fall!"

"I've changed my mind!" she wailed. "I want down! Oh my god!"

Only a few seconds later, the rough ride stopped and the hippogriffs' wings stopped beating. Instead, they began a peaceful glide.

"See? The start is a bit bumpy, but this ..." Harry smiled when she dared opening her eyes. "Isn't this wonderful? And look, there's the forbidden forest. It doesn't look very terrible in the sunlight, right?"

Slowly, Hermione calmed down, and after a while she even managed to enjoy the flight. Her highlight was the descent to the Black Lake's surface, where both hippogriffs held their claws into the cool water and snagged a fish each.

The landing wasn't very smooth, but Hermione bore it with as much grace as she could muster and even apologized to Agapi for screaming in the beginning.

"You're really a very good flyer," she told the animal and stroked her neck. "I almost wasn't afraid at the end. Thanks."

Agapi cheeped, clearly pleased with herself, and trotted off to Hagrid who fed her a handful of fat ferrets.

"I'm really glad you tried," Harry told her once Buckbeak was gone as well. He pulled Hermione into an embrace and kissed her slightly salty forehead. Knowing how stressed out she'd been kicked up his protective urges. "That was very brave."

"Just don't ask me to do that again anytime soon," she whispered.

"Next time we'll do something you like." Harry held her even closer and felt stupid with his affection for her.

"I'll hold you to that, Harry James," Hermione muttered against his neck.

She couldn't have made him a better promise.

---

End of part 7