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]

9. Chapter 9

New chapter, put up especially wet. I'll correct mistakes as I find them later, although it's more likely I'll do that on AO3, because it's easier. If that bothers you, please keep it to yourself.

Note to the readers who commented that they don't know what a pension is: maybe you're more familiar with the term guesthouse, although I found that one too "small" for a French manor house. Think of it as a small, exclusive hotel with excellent yet familial service.

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Dobby's Deceit

Part 9

"You're avoiding me."

Harry sighed inwardly. All week Ron had thrown him looks, and huffed whenever someone else attracted Harry's attention. He bitterly resented the fact that he and Harry only shared one elective, but when he finally got a chance to talk to Harry during Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd shuffled around awkwardly, seemingly expecting Harry to breach the silence between them. Now Care of Magical Creatures was almost over and Harry had enough.

"I'm not avoiding you," he told Ron. "I was waiting for you to actually say something."

"It's not easy with everyone around," Ron hissed, pointing at Hermione who stood a few feet away and quietly but intently talked with Hagrid. "Why won't you meet me alone?"

"Because I don't want to be alone with you right now," Harry said, deciding to be blunt so Ron wouldn't be able to misunderstand. "You were really out of line with Hermione, and you threatened Crookshanks. If I did the same with Ginny and Scabbers, you'd flip. If you've got to say something, you can, but it better be an apology."

Ron flushed. "Why are you always on her side?" he demanded. "You weren't like this last year!"

Harry couldn't believe the nerve. "This hasn't got anything to do with me taking sides. You're behaving like a prat, Ron. You're judgemental and a bully. If you can't see that, that's your problem, not mine. I don't need another Dudley in my life."

"But Harry-"

"Save it," Harry said angrily. "Really, just ... don't talk to me. I won't argue about this anymore."

"Fine, be that way. Traitor," Ron muttered and stomped off.

Blaise Zabini stared after him and then gave Harry a look that conveyed both his incredulity and disdain.

Harry could sort of understand that, even if it hurt to see his first friend so angry with him.

Soon after, Hagrid dismissed them, again with no homework, but at least he didn't seem so sad anymore. Whatever Hermione had said must've been a comfort.

"That didn't go well," she observed, carefully stepping around a mud puddle. Of course she'd managed to listen in even as she was having a conversation.

"Sorry about that," Harry said quietly. "I didn't want to make it worse, but Ron really pushed my buttons."

"It's hardly your fault. To be honest, I don't know what to make of it," Hermione mused as they tromped up the hill to Hogwarts.

Because of the rain last night the path was dangerously slick, making the girls especially fearful of slipping and hurting themselves. Harry solved that little problem with a little Duro at the ground, but he still offered Hermione his arm to help her along.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "It's time for the boots, unfortunately." Picking up their previous conversation, she continued, "Ron is behaving ... erratically. Really hot and cold. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's suffering from bipolar personality disorder or something similar. Maybe a letter to his parents isn't such a silly idea after all."

"Yeah, I'm a little worried," Harry admitted. "Maybe we should talk to Fred and George first, though. Keep the big guns for last."

"Your funeral," Hermione smirked. "I'll sit that one out."

Harry gently cuffed her arm in retaliation. "Is the Paper Troupe still on tonight?" he asked. "Lavender got a Gringotts letter during lunch, but she was sitting at the Ravenclaw table so I didn't get what it's about. It's nothing bad, I hope?"

"Everything is fine, we'll meet as agreed. By the way, the Snape thing is a hot topic. We're placing bets on how many points Professor Snape will deduct from a house during class. Since we got off lightly last time, my bet is thirty points from Gryffindor. Yours?"

"You're asking me to bet on my own misery?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The prize are five chocolate frogs," she cajoled.

Harry snorted. "Put me down for fifty points."

They reached the top of the hill and waited for the others to pass them. Lavender and Parvati thanked them for the stone path before hurrying on. Neville was last, his hand wrapped in one of Hagrid's handkerchiefs.

"Oh Neville, that krup liked you a little too well," Hermione sighed. "Do you want me to come to the infirmary with you?"

"Nah, I know the way very well by now," Neville joked. "It's just a small bite; he didn't mean to do it. They don't get out a lot for play time and you know that they need lots of physical activity."

"Get a pass from Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Also, how many points do you think Snape will dock from Gryffindor today?"

"With my luck? At least a hundred," Neville replied with an eye roll. "See you in class."

Harry cancelled the Duro spell on the path before following him inside. Hermione's muttered cleaning charm on their shoes made him smile a little, and he enjoyed his amusement with the knowledge that every Gryffindor's mood would take a nose-dive during Potions.

"Don't let him get to you," Hermione whispered as they waited for the door to the classroom to open. "He doesn't deserve your anger."

"I wish it were that easy," Harry sighed. "But I'll try."

It was almost the norm that the Gryffindors collectively wished they were anywhere else but in Snape's dungeon when lessons started. Even Hermione, after only two classes so far, disliked the subject to such an extent that she barely put any effort into her notes or the preparation of her and Harry's ingredients.

Snape, of course, noticed her attitude and honed in on it like a defiance-seeking missile, picking her work apart like a vulture and taking points left, right and centre.

Not ten minutes after the bell, Gryffindor had already lost seventy points. Hermione could boast thirty, and another thirty were due to Neville's supposed tardiness - Snape dismissed Madam Pomfrey's pass with a haughty hand wave, setting it not so coincidentally on fire. Another ten minus points went to Seamus for his angry growl.

"Yup, in rare form," Harry muttered when Snape's back was turned. "Neville will win the pot at this rate."

"You dare talk in my classroom?" Snape breathed, turning around and stalking back to Harry's work bench. "After I explicitly ordered you to keep silent while you brew? Oh, but I forgot: the rules don't apply to you, Mr. Potter, do they?"

Harry couldn't even be mad about the blatant goading. "If you say so." Remembering his manners, he tacked on, "Sir."

Snape's eyes narrowed and he tried to stare Harry in the eyes. When that failed, he snarled, "Ten points for your insufferable cheek, Potter, and detention with me on Saturday."

Fighting for his composure, Harry managed to keep his blank stare on Snape's right shoulder. After warning Hermione only a couple of days before, he was very invested in keeping the man out of his head.

"No answer?" Snape sneered. "Hm, it seems like Gryffindor's golden boy was merely lacking a firm hand. There might be hope for you yet, Potter. Saturday, eight o'clock. Do not be late, or I'll double your punishment."

The hatred for Snape was like a living thing in the room. Harry was silently fuming about the injustice, and he wondered whether he could talk Dobby into messing up Snape's stores a little in retaliation.

To his great surprise, revenge was swift and sweet. Zabini, seemingly as fed up with the drama as the Gryffindors, chucked a few balled up stinging nettles into Millicent Bulstrode's innocently bubbling cauldron and then took cover.

The thick, blubbering sludge welling up from the cauldron was a thing of beauty. It was mint green, smelled like hippogriff dung, and there was coming more and more and more of it. Soon Bulstrode's whole table was covered, her shrieks a fitting musical accompaniment to the wet globbering sounds, and still there was more coming out of the cauldron. It reminded Harry of a fairy tale, the one with the pot that cooked sweet millet pap until ordered to stop.

"Everyone out!" Snape bellowed, sleeved arm in front of his hooked nose, and everyone booked it out into the corridor.

"Thanks!" Harry whispered to Zabini.

"There's no need," the boy replied just as quietly. "But you can let me sign your petition." Zabini slipped Harry a piece of parchment. There was an address on it. "For Granger's complaint. My mother won't care that her parents are muggles. Not for this."

Harry pocketed the slip and then laughed a little. "God, the smell is awful."

"It's no worse than the class itself," Zabini replied with a shrug. "The Hogwarts tuition is coming out of my trust fund and I'm done tolerating a third rate education. I've got plans for the future."

Harry thought that Zabini and Hermione might become fast friends one day, even with their different backgrounds, if he continued playing nice with the Gryffindors. Heck, even Harry himself caught himself contemplating it! But while that pleased him, he also worried a little about it.

What if Hermione finds him more interesting than me? He's rather pretty for a guy, too, and she did like Lockhart rather a lot before she knew what a fraud he is, Harry tought. And I don't think Zabini is a fraud. He placed ahead of me in the exams.

It was kind of maddening, especially since Harry had never really felt that way before.

Being the contrary bastard that he was, Snape refused to let them leave early. Instead, they wasted three quarters of an hour in the dank corridor talking among themselves until the bell rang.

"Finally," Harry sighed. Slowly, the students shuffled off, the Slytherins to their common room and the Gryffindors upstairs. "So, who won the pot? He docked eighty points, I believe."

Hermione consulted her notebook. "Lisa Turpin tied with Terry Boot. Normally, people bet for their own house, but I guess it's a lot more interesting to place bets on us." She glanced at Harry. "You won't accept the detention, right?"

"Of course not." Harry scowled. "After that business with my electives, I read the student charter, twice. Professor McGonagall has office hours in a bit and I'll have her cancel it. I'm really, really over Snape treating me like this."

"I'll come with you, as witness. I bet the others would help as well, if you need it."

"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry took Hermione's hand, not caring if anyone saw, and together they ambled to the great hall and asked Dobby for a snack to take their minds off the coming unpleasant conversation.

When they reached Professor McGonagall's office half an hour later, they were not the first to arrive.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Dean and Seamus. "Are you also going to complain about Snape?"

"You bet," Dean snorted. "And we're gonna protest your detention, too."

"Lavender and Parvati would've come, too, but they thought it more important to write things down when they're still fresh," Seamus added. "Snape is about to displace the dementors from the front page if he keeps that shite up."

"Then we can just go in together," Hermione said. "If that's alright with you?"

Seamus grinned. "Sure. The more, the merrier. I'm looking forward to it!"

Professor McGonagall didn't look pleased to find four of her lions in her office, and all complaining about Harry's detention.

"While I am inclined to believe your version of events, I'm afraid that the Hogwarts Charter grants Professor Snape certain rights. If he chooses to exercise his right to correct unacceptable behaviour with a detention, there's not much I can do."

"Yes, you can," Harry said stubbornly. "Because the detention is unwarranted, and I've got a whole bunch of witnesses. Heck, I bet even Blaise Zabini from Slytherin would back me up. I talked in class, fine, but that usually costs us five points with other teachers. It's way out of line to give detention for the first offence, and I won't accept it. Even if you decide not to help us, I won't go, and you can't make me."

"Yes, I can, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said through pinched lips.

"You really can't," Hermione said almost gently. "In such a case, the board of govenors would get involved, and I hate to say it, but do you really think Madam Longbottom wants to be back so soon, over such a matter?"

McGonagall's nostrils flared. "You're skirting the line of what is appropriate, Miss Granger."

"Snape has passed that line several years ago," Harry said boldly. "He's unfair; he burned Neville's hall pass from Madam Pomfrey, for Pete's sake, and docked thirty points for tardiness. In fact, I'd like to protest the whole point loss today, because we don't deserve any of it."

For a moment, Professor McGonagall was utterly still. Then, her face paled dramatically, only to flush angrily a moment later. "I see." She took a deep breath. "In the future, do remember to tell me the whole story, yes?"

"Well, I wanted to respect Snape's right to discipline us," Harry said, "but he went too far."

"The students are placing bets on how many points they'll lose in their classes," Hermione added. "And also, the lessons themselves are a disappointment. I expect better from a potions master."

"I'd be happy with just a human being for a teacher," Seamus muttered. "Sorry, Professor, but it's the truth."

Professor McGonagall opened a drawer and took out two sheets of parchment. "This is the cancellation form for detentions. Before I sign it, I'll accompany you to your detention with Professor Snape and get his version of events," she said. "In case I decide against your protest, you'll have to involve the headmaster. This form is for your formal appeal. As we all know that he'll probably back Professor Snape, I propose sending a note to the board of govenors at the same time and letting the headmaster know about it after the fact. It's unpleasant, but it might be the warning shot Professor Snape needs." Her glare softened and she sighed. "You must know that I'm deeply unhappy about how things have been going these last two years. I'll do my very best to support you. I can only do that, however, if you're telling me the whole story. I won't accept cherry picking. Are we clear?"

"Yes. Thank you, Professor. That's all we need," Harry replied.

They took their leave, not completely happy as Professor McGonagall hadn't said anything about the lost points, but content with the knowledge that they had a recourse if Snape somehow managed to convince her to let the detention stand.

As the Paper Troupe would only meet after dinner, Harry and Hermione excused themselves and went to the Come And Go Room. There, a comfortable sofa and a fire in the fireplace invited them to put their feet up and relax. Somehow, Dobby noticed and popped in with fruit and tea, but he didn't stay for a little chat.

Hermione cuddled up next to Harry. "Do you think Professor Dumbledore will try to force you to go to detention?"

"I'm almost sure he will," Harry replied glumly. "I have no idea what he can or can't do as my magical guardian. He's just my guardian by proxy, so that's something at least, but it's kind of hanging over my head."

"You can find out. Write the ministry, they'll have to tell you. If they don't, you can raise a stink." Hermione grinned. "And didn't Colin say that a lawyer would be a good idea?"

"I'm on it," Harry confessed. "I guess people will mostly remember me as That-Unpleasant-Boy-Who-Sued-Everyone."

"Everyone who deserved it," Hermione corrected and giggled. "I'm looking forward to that. Surely that's worth a headline or two in the Daily Prophet. Although ... can Dumbledore stop it?"

"I don't know. But I've got a few aces in my sleeve if he tries." Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "Let's not worry about that right now. I'm more interested in not having to spend any time with Snape. At all, if possible."

"You and about every other student in this school," Hermione agreed dryly. "The whole place is a farce. I'm glad that the pretty veneer has worn off after only a couple of years. I can't believe how enamored of everything I was."

"I wasn't any better, but I'll tease you about Lockhart until the day you die," Harry smirked.

Hermione snorted. "I'll even let you. Good lord, that was embarrassing. I'm just glad that Professor Lupin is such a good teacher."

"Do you think we'll miss classes on the days he's turning into a werewolf?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not if the headmaster can help it; I know for a fact that parents and teachers alike were up in arms after Lockhart. The fifth and seventh years really needed someone competent to bring them up to speed. Did you know that the students had to take their OWLs and NEWTs independently during the holidays, because Dumbledore cancelled all exams? That's not cheap at all, and Hogwarts had to reimburse everyone for it. It's the only reason I can think of for Dumbledore to allow this. As much as I like Professor Lupin, and as much as I trust the teachers to keep us safe ... he's still a werewolf."

"I wish there was a cure," Harry said softly. "He doesn't deserve being treated like a leper."

"No, he really doesn't. He's one of the nicest people I've ever met," Hermione murmured. "Maybe there'll be a cure in the future. Hector didn't find one, but I read something about a potion in his notes that allows werewolves to at least remember themselves after the transformation. Apparently it was a huge thing back in the seventies."

"Then why are werewolves still a problem?" Harry shifted and pulled Hermione even closer. "If everyone gets the potion, they're safe, aren't they?"

"Not really. It was hellishly difficult to make, and also expensive then and I can't imagine that this has changed. The government refused to pay for it, and werewolves obviously don't get good jobs in the wizarding world, so can't afford to hire a potioneer. At least, I assume they don't. Professor Lupin's clothes are a little shabby." She huffed. "It's discrimination; those people are wizards and witches, first and foremost. They paid taxes before they got turned and everything. But social justice seems to be a foreign concept in Great Britain."

"I wonder why Professor Lupin didn't just leave. There must be countries with better opportunities," Harry said. Without consciously thinking about it, his fingers began playing with Hermione's long hair.

"He'll have his reasons," Hermione replied. She sighed contentedly. "This is nice. How long until dinner?"

"We've got half an hour, or until my arm falls asleep," Harry grinned. "You're almost purring, did you know that?"

"Don't tell anyone, but I think I kept a tiny bit of the cat I transformed into last year," Hermione mumbled. Getting braver, Harry's hand massaged her neck and the base of her skull. "Oooh, yes, just like that."

Fascinated, Harry watched goosebumps appear on her arms, and her happy little wiggles against him made him blush.

Far too soon, it was time for dinner, and after that for the meeting of the Paper Troupe.

"Welcome, new faces," Lavender greeted Harry and Luna Lovegood, a slight, blond girl from Ravenclaw Harry hadn't ever consciously noticed before, with a distinctly bossy air. To complete the boss lady image, Lavender had a yellow pencil behind one ear and another in her hand. "Let's be quick: Snape. Who wants to tackle that one? He'll bite back, so be sure."

Both Hermione and Dean raised their hands immediately and the topic was handed over to them. Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet muttered an apology; with the OWLs hanging over their head they didn't dare act against Snape, no matter how much they wanted to.

"Keep an eye on the situation with Harry's detention," Lavender said, making a note on her parchment. "It'll interest the whole school whether he got out of it, and even more importantly, how. Next: Buckbeak."

Here, Harry raised his hand and was assigned the story together with Seamus. Colin eagerly promised to provide a very flattering picture of the hippogriff.

"It'd be even better if you could fly him, Harry," Colin said. "To show everyone that he's not dangerous."

"It'd look quite spectacular, but we shouldn't," Hermione cautioned him. "As long as the whole thing is uncertain and it's Malfoy's word against Hagrid and ours, we shouldn't fan the flames. But speaking of Hagrid, I managed to talk to him today during class, and he said that he hasn't told his friend about Buckbeak's hearing yet. He's ashamed and afraid, so I offered to write an open letter for him and have it signed by as many students as we can rally. I also told him that he really needs to send a personal letter so his friendship won't suffer. He agreed and thanks us very much for our support."

Lavender nodded. "Great, then let's get to it. Send it with the fastest owl once everyone has signed. We'll print the letter as well, to show people that there are many witnesses, and that we're prepared to speak out. Parv, hit them with the dementors."

Parvati opened a large binder. "It's still our most important story, Snape and Buckbeak notwithstanding. This is everything we have collected so far. Unfortunately we don't have any photos, but I think that the witness reports speak for themselves. Madam Pomfrey allowed me to interview her, as did Professor Lupin. I tried to get some of the aurors to talk, but apparently the Ministry has placed a gag order after the first article appeared in the Prophet. None of them will correspond with us."

Harry guessed that she was flipping through the statements of Hogwarts students for his and Luna's benefit. "Well, that will make them look even more stupid, won't it?" he asked. "And what about Sirius Black? He's the reason the things were out and about in the first place."

Hermione nodded. "It's an interesting case and I'll write an article about him. It won't be much, but maybe we're on to something and can follow up."

"I'd like to help with that," Alicia Spinnet said. "Maybe we can't do something about Snape right now, but writing the Ministry and trying to dig up stuff is right up my alley. Fred and George will help as well, and Lee's got an aunt in some office. He can probably convince her to do some snooping."

"Yes, that'd be wonderful. Thank you, Alicia. Would you be alright with a short interview, Harry? He's your godfather, you should have some say."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Lavender sighed. "This is far too much explosive material for just one edition, but our sponsors only agreed to a monthly publication, so we'll just have to deal with it. You've got your marching orders, guys, don't disappoint me. Remember: who, what, where, when, how, why, and where did you get the info. Keep it as short as possible - the average attention span of the reader is less than two minutes per article. We editors will proof everything you submit, so don't worry about outing sources, but try to avoid naming them if they want to stay anonymous because no one is perfect and mistakes happen."

"What's my job?" Luna asked in a light, dreamy voice. She had a slightly faraway look in her eyes.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Luna. We'd like you to contact your dad and ask whether he'd like to buy some or all articles of our paper. He's got some readers and we'd appreciate the help in getting word out."

Luna nodded. "I can do that. How much would you like in payment?"

Lavender lowered her voice a little. "Tell him to contact a goblin named Fandar. He'll have a contract ready." When she noticed Harry looking, she coloured. "We're doing it right, yeah?"

Harry grinned. "I'm very impressed so far."

"Yes, well, you'll have to cut us some slack because you'll have to provide an interview here and there, since you're involved in some of the messes that are going on right now," she replied. "People will buy the paper because of you, and what's even more important, they'll finally see how dangerous things are here. When not even you are safe at Hogwarts, then who is?"

That was something Harry could live with, but he had absolutely no scruples demanding a say before any articles about him were printed.

"I'm not a cash cow, and if you turn the student paper into a gossip rag, I'll do my best to make you regret it." Harry looked intently at Lavender. "I'm not joking. I'm looking for a lawyer right now to get those stupid children's books out of the bookstore and I'm not above setting him on you."

Lavender swallowed, but nodded. "Of course. Hermione already advised us to set up a charter, with ethic guidelines and stuff. We won't disappoint you, I promise."

"It's not entirely selfish," Harry tried to console her. "I can't imagine forcing people to read dumb everyday stuff about my life. We've got much more important things to do."

"True. So, everything clear?" When everyone in the group nodded, Lavender dismissed them.

The three Gryffindor chasers left, but Luna stayed to write a letter to her father, and Seamus and Dean decided to get the easy part of their articles out of the way. The seven most important questions were quickly answered, all that remained to do was to fill in facts and write everything up in readable form.

"We could get your interview for my story about Black out of the way as well," Hermione offered quietly.

"I'll have to think about it for a bit first," Harry replied apologetically. "I don't want him to get in trouble if he's really innocent, you know."

"Alright. Lavender gave us one week for the rough drafts. We can do the interview anytime, just let me know when it's good for you."

"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry smiled at her. "At least the article about Buckbeak will be done soon. We've already got the whole thing together."

"All we need are a few quotes from our classmates and Colin's photo," Seamus said. "Then, we write it up prettily and voilà."

"I'm looking forward to it," Hermione said sincerely. "I think the paper will benefit from different writing styles. That'll make it harder for critics to make us out as someone's puppet. I don't even know what kind of trouble that could cause."

"They'd do that to students?" Seamus asked, appalled. He shook his head. "Man, I never notice this stuff."

"It's sad but after the whole Sirius Black business, I'm not trusting the Ministry with anything." Hermione drew the boy's piece of paper towards her and quickly read over it. "Oh, nice touch with the bit about Buckbeak's mysterious owner. Here, that's his name, Hagrid told me during class. I'll have to double-check the spelling, but that's one more bit done. I'll hopefully find out more about him over the weekend."

"How?" Dean asked.

"I have my ways," Hermione said mysteriously. "Anyway, good start! Mind the spelling and make it a bit more personable, so people will relate to Hagrid instead of Malfoy. Not Rita Skeeter level personable, though, okay?"

All three boys looked so affronted that Hermione burst out laughing.

On their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione kept Harry back and murmured, "I wanted to ask whether I could borrow Dobby to find Hagrid's friend. I've got his name, and we know that he's rich and owns a lot of magical creatures, but not even Hagrid knows where he lives because his property in Greece is apparently unplottable."

"You can ask him," Harry said. "If anyone can find the man, it's him. Good thinking."

"Let's hope that the topics for our paper won't always be that interesting," she joked, "or that international. We'd need an owl for research, or even a newspaper elf for errands if that were the case."

Harry grinned. "A house elf just for that would be pretty awesome."

Curfew was upon them when they entered the common room, so they went up to their dorms without delay.

In bed, Harry realized that he'd only have two classes on the next day. The thought both elated and worried him, because while he would have more time to take care of things, he'd also be busy with said things.

Better get it out of the way fast, he thought. I'm sure Sharptooth will send me the information on the Gaunt family, and I should tell someone about Slytherin's library, and the detention with Snape. I wish Sirius could come here sometimes. And Brady.

He scowled, and when his scar didn't begin to hurt like it used to, he scowled some more.

It took a while to fall asleep.

oOo

As expected, the morning classes on Friday passed quickly, as both Lupin and Flitwick's lessons were practical. For the first time since finding his second wand, however, Harry experienced some difficulty. It was nothing major, merely a dip in power when it should've been steady, but it was concerning him.

Yet another topic to talk about with Brady, he thought with a sigh. It was tempting to just use the other wand. Knowing that he was actually training his core helped, but the uneasy feeling remained until the bell rang.

During lunch, Ron managed to sit close to Harry. "So, the Quidditch try-outs are tomorrow," he said as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, ignoring Hermione's forbidding frown.

"I know," Harry retorted without looking up from his stew.

"Since everyone can try out, I thought I'd give it a shot."

"Good for you," Harry murmured.

"So, I wanted to ask whether I can borrow your broom for that. It's loads better than the school brooms. I'd have a much better chance."

"Maybe you would, yeah. It's not a good idea, though," Harry said and waited out Ron's immediately rising angry flush.

"Why? Because I could actually make the team?" Ron demanded.

"Yes, exactly." Harry bit back a sigh. Where Ron got the idea that he'd even help him out after his appalling behaviour was beyond him, but apparently he wouldn't have any peace until they'd entertained half the great hall with their argument.

"I knew it! The great Harry Potter is afraid that his best friend could get a place in the spotlight as well!" Ron's freckles stood out on his angry face.

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What spotlight?"

"Maybe you should shut up now, Ron," one of the twins advised before Ron could shout out what he meant.

"You shut up," Ron snarled back instead. "You're just as bad as Potter!"

"Harry just tells you how it is," Hermione snapped. "For all that you're so good at strategic thinking, you forget that there's just one broom! Even if Harry loaned it to you, what if you actually make the team? Of course, you'd have to be better than Wood, first, but that's neither here nor there."

"It could happen." Ron glared at her.

"Fine, let's say it does. What broom would Harry ride, then? He can't be seeker on a school broom, he'd be way too slow. And as Professor McGonagall said, there's no money for better brooms for the whole team. In fact, she bought that broom privately to get the Gryffindor team even with the other teams."

"Keepers need to be fast, too," Ron insisted. "Also, Harry might not make the team. McGonagall might give the broom to whoever is the keeper."

"I don't think so." Hermione barely hid the scorn in her voice. "The new seeker would get the broom, because usually the seekers win the games."

"You don't know that!"

"I know the statistics because you badgered all of us with them," she said, exasperated. "Out of a hundred games, ninety-six are won by the seekers. The rare quaffle-winners hardly matter in comparison, don't you think? If anything, the chasers should get better brooms before the keepers, because they're flying just as much, and as fast, as the seekers. And the beaters too, of course."

"You're twisting my words!" Ron shouted.

"She doesn't do anything of the sort," Fred snapped. "She's telling you facts. It's not her fault that you don't like them."

"I'll talk to McGonagall," Ron growled, getting up. "It's not fair that Harry always gets the best of everything."

"For fuck's sake," Lee Jordan muttered to the twins. "Your brother will ruin us if he keeps that up. We're already last in the running for the house cup."

"No idea what's wrong with him," George said, watching Ron's stomp from the great hall with narrowed eyes. "He's been acting out since school started."

"We'll find out what's going on," Fred added.

They excused themselves and followed Ron.

"I'm sorry," Harry sighed. "I can talk to Professor McGonagall and ask her to rotate the broom, if anyone wants to use it during games."

"Oh no, you won't," Katie said firmly. "It was perfectly alright of her to give it to you. We chasers are good and we know it, but we've trained together for years on our brooms. If one of us suddenly got a better broom, we'd have to work hard to make up for the difference in speed and agility, and we simply don't have the time for that."

"No, you don't!" Oliver Wood shouted from his place with the other seventh years. "No more drama, Potter!"

"Weasley's just jealous," Angelina said and shrugged. "That's tough, but he'll get over it if he wants to keep any of his friendships."

Harry wasn't so sure that Ron really wanted to keep his friends. Right now he was really doing his level best to scare them all off. Even Percy was looking mortified, and he usually avoided his siblings' shenanigans unless they warranted the loss of house points or detention.

Feeling a little depressed, Harry let Dobby pop him to the Come And Go Room after lunch. The house elf served hot cider and a small portion of hot vanilla pudding with elf berry compote to cheer him up, and then presented Harry with a small stack of mail and two shrunken boxes.

"It be good distraction," Dobby said when Harry sighed. "Steward Sharptooth be saying that Harry Potter sir be reading letters first."

"Alright then." Harry took a bite of his pudding before accepting the first envelope. "Oh, wow, this one's got personnel information in it. Let's see ..."

Quickly pushing his anger at Ron aside, Harry read the applications of eight witches and wizards. They were of all ages and walks of life, which made choosing only three difficult. In the end, Harry decided to support an elderly lady without close family and in need of income, a young man who wanted to stay for a couple of years to gain experience in the hotel business, and a middle-aged, resolute looking woman with an impressive resume. They'd be the human representatives of housekeeping, repairs and maintenance, and administration respectively. A young man, whose magic felt quite similar to Healer Williams' became the new in-house doctor. With nearly identical training and work experience, it was an emotional decision, but one Harry felt justified in making. If Sharptooth didn't approve, the candidates wouldn't have made it this far.

Harry put his three choices in an envelope, sealed it and set it aside for delivery.

Next came a letter from Sirius. This was unusual, since they had the journals to communicate, and so Harry cautiously opened it, in case it was bad news.

It wasn't bad news.

At least, not for Harry.

"He chose a lawyer," he told Dobby, eagerly reading the rest of the short missive. "His name is Lawrence Walker, and apparently he's a Master of International Law. I don't know what that means, exactly, but it sounds serious. He'll represent Sirius in Italy. His partners will take care of my issues."

"Harry Potter sir's dogfather be wanting to sue everyone," Dobby agreed. "He be telling Dobby that he be putting whole firm on retainer. Harry Potter sir's dogfather be saying that Walker, Stone & Finch be really earning their exorbitant fee in the next few years."

Despite himself, Harry laughed. "Oh god. The one who's apparently responsible for my personal stuff is Finch. I guess he's the one who'll negotiate the contract with Colin, then. And Stone will sue everyone that needs suing. Sirius' words, not mine. She'll be busy, then."

"Harry Potter sir's dogfather be choosing well," Dobby said. "He be knowing what he be about."

"I get that feeling, yes." Harry picked up the last envelope. "This is probably about the Slytherin stuff. I don't really want to look."

"Harry Potter sir not be needing to look today," Dobby said. "But it be better to get things over with."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I don't want it hanging over my head all weekend." Apprehensive yet determined, Harry opened the envelope and pulled the papers out. "It's much less information than anticipated, at least."

Quickly, he flipped through all the pages, knowing what he'd be discovering in them, but paling anyway when it was confirmed that Tom Riddle was the last remaining member of the Gaunt family. An old uncle, Morfin, had died in Azkaban several years ago.

"I'm not gonna have that guy in my family," he said tightly and threw the papers down as if they were venomous spiders. Hastily, he grabbed Sirius' journal instead.

September 10th, 1993

Sirius,

I received the inheritance test for Slytherin's family. Tom Riddle is the only member left. But I don't want him. You mentioned being cast out - it was horrible and unfair, but this is Voldemort and I don't want him in the family.

Help, please!

Harry

Barely a minute later, writing appeared on the page.

Harry,

Calm down. I knew, and since Voldemort is already sort of dead, I didn't want to stress you out.

As to casting someone out of the family: that'll have to be done in ritual. People get angry all the time, and say things they don't mean. It takes a month to prepare, and will tax you magically, even if the one being cast out deserves it.

Of course I'll help you with it. I'll send instructions and material for the ritual, if you want to do it at Hogwarts. Sharptooth anticipated your reaction and asked me to warn you that Dumbledore might be able to feel the magic being used in that case, even if you do it in the Chamber of Secrets. That would harm you in several ways, so please think carefully about it.

In my opinion, you can just wait until you come home for the holidays, even if your personal preparation for the ritual will have to be done at Hogwarts. Healer Williams, Sharptooth and your elf friends would be on hand to support you, not to mention the rest of Gringotts and myself. I know that you worry, and that your magic is pushing you to act. It's a lesson in compromise and self-care, one I hope you'll learn soon, because your family magic will often demand things from you before you're mentally or emotionally ready. Just because you're physically able to act doesn't mean that you understand what it means.

Be careful. I love you.

Sirius

Harry drew in a shuddery breath. His eyes misted over and the muttered a curse. "Sirius is right, Dobby, I should wait, but it feels so wrong to keep Riddle in the family that long. It's intolerable."

"Harry Potter sir's family magics be strong," Dobby squeaked. He fretfully pulled at his ears. "Dobby be seeing it all around Harry Potter sir. It be agitated."

Slumping in his chair, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll have to push back, then, but what if I can't?"

"Harry Potter sir be needing work," Dobby decided and floated the first of the two boxes onto the desk. "These be ward stones. Sharptooth be saying that Harry Potter sir only be needing to bond with the stones. They be Malijar's Gift, from the same vein as Harry Potter sir's stone on Potter's Field."

"Oh, really?" That cheered Harry up on a level he didn't really understand. "Then I'll get going, but I need to answer Sirius first, or he'll worry."

Sirius,

I'll wait for Yule, even if it's gonna be really, really hard. The Dark Git murdered my parents and the magic wants him gone. Please send the stuff along I'll need to prepare for the ritual. I'm guessing that means cleansing and fasting? Where will we do the ritual? At Gringotts? Or can you build a circle at home? I didn't get to it, just like the brewing I'd wanted to do. Why is there so much stuff to learn?!

Thanks for your help. I miss you!

Harry

P.S.: I'll bond with the ward stones for the pension now, so don't worry if I'm not answering right away.

Harry put all of his things back into his bag and placed it on the floor. With Dobby's help, he took out all the ward stones from their box. The main ward stone was much smaller than Harry's stone on Potter's field, but it still hummed with energy.

"Hello," Harry said, delighted. "It's like you're really here!"

If a stone could project pleasure, this was surely doing it. The energy warmed and pulsed eagerly, reaching out for Harry and snagging the boy's magic in a soothing embrace.

"I still remember the spell for the bonding," Harry confided. He put his hand on the stone and closed his eyes. "I hope you're doing well in our garden."

"Here be Harry Potter sir's athame," Dobby squeaked and offered it. "Dobby be sanitizing the blade."

"Thank you."

Very reluctantly, Harry took his hands off the stone. Quickly, he cut himself and pressed his hand back, relishing in the welcoming hot rush through his body. The spell glowed in his mind and he had no idea if he actually spoke it out loud, but the shift in the connection between him and Malijar's Gift was profound, so the bonding had happened without any issue.

"I'm glad you'll be helping Dobby and Betty in France," Harry said, basking in the magic. "You and your little friends." He laughed at the insistent pushing against their combined aura. "I better bond with them too. I didn't know you guys could feel jealous!"

One perimeter ward stone after the other received its drop of blood and a small communion. If the experience weren't so invigorating and pleasant, Harry would've probably doubted his sanity. There seemed to be a sort of awareness to the stones, not to mention differing moods. It was especially strange because the stones all came from the same source.

"And that's all of you done," Harry murmured in satisfaction and set the last of the seven times seven little stones on his desk. All their mithril veins were glowing like the most beautiful opal fire.

Then, a small, indignant push against his ankle made him look down. His bag rattled a little, making Dobby hop back a step in surprise.

"Oh! Oh, I forgot one. I'm so sorry!" Harry took Sharptooth's gift out of his book bag and patted it consolingly. "I didn't know that you wanted to do that with me. Hold on." He took the newly sanitized athame from Dobby and gave himself another small cut. "I'd be very happy to bond with you."

He pressed the drop of blood against the barely palm-sized piece of rock and tried to hug it with his magic. It hugged back fiercely, almost scoldingly, and accepted the bond like it couldn't wait for another second. That feeling of security that had embraced him first in the cottage and then on Potter's Field once more bloomed behind Harry's breastbone and streamed through and out of him like a river of sunshine. It stole his breath and made him indescribably happy. What was more, he could suddenly feel a presence in the back of his mind. It took a moment to parse out that he was actually sensing Betty and Sirius in Potter Cottage, and a few small life forms besides as well. Potter's Field was a magical mess as usual, but it was his mess, and it greeted him joyfully.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, guys, I love you, too." He pushed his happiness at the unexpected gift into the bond, into that feeling, and gasped when the presences startled. A second later, one was missing from the cottage and reappearing right on the table in front of him.

"Harry Potter sir be feeling Betty!" the small elf cried. She surged forward and hugged Harry around the neck. "It be so good to feel Harry Potter sir!"

"You can come visit me any time," Harry told her, carefully returning the embrace. The little love fest was making him dizzy, but in a really good way. "You must tell me when you need something, even if it's just a hug. Alright? I'm always good for that."

"Betty will," she promised. Her blue eyes then went to Dobby. "You be here too long, Dobby. Hoggywarty elves be getting impatient."

"Wait, what?" Harry sat up.

"Dobby be telling Harry Potter sir that Hoggywarty not be place for Dobby," the elf admitted, shame-faced. "But Harry Potter sir be needing Dobby, and Hoggywarty elves be very good at tolerating Dobby's presence for a little time. It be taxing them to keep secret from Dumblydore, but they be doing it because they be liking Harry Potter sir."

"Oh no, I didn't know that." Slowly, the euphoria ebbed away. "What can we do? I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Elves be trying," Betty explained, "but school be coming first. We be needing solution for problem or Dobby be needing to come less often."

"It's great to have him around, but if you need to stay away, then that's what we'll do," Harry decided. "The headmaster mustn't find out about our secrets."

"We not be liking it, but we understand," Betty said. "We be thinking about it!"

"Dobby be taking things to Gringotts. If Harry Potter sir be needing Dobby, he be calling!"

"I will. Thank you, both of you!"

Dobby and Betty fought for the privilege to carry Harry's things. Betty managed to take the letter, popping away in triumph. Dobby huffily followed with the box of bonded ward stones. Only then did Harry notice the slight sting in his finger and healed the wound with a smart, "Episkey!"

"Do you know what I haven't done in ages?" Harry then asked his personal piece of Malijar's Gift. "A magical communion."

Harry had barely thought about a cistern to cleanse himself beforehand when one appeared in the corner by the panorama window.

"Brady said I'd normally have to leave magical pets and stuff behind, but it's not a ritual, so maybe you'd like to do this with me," Harry told the stone. "If not, just zap me or something."

Malijar's Gift didn't zap him, and together, they experienced a rather turbulent cleansing. The cool mist dragged all of Harry's simmering anger about Ron and the headmaster away, until he felt level-headed enough to attempt a small ritual circle.

To give his new wand something to do, he used it to draw the circle, find the four cardinal points, and finally to paint the required runes with the flame writing spell.

"Hello, magic," Harry whispered as the power slowly heaved up around him. Malijar's Gift sparkled in his hand and vibrated slightly in resonance. It was the best feeling in the world, right on par with long, warm hugs from Sirius and Hermione, and that one, long touch of his family's magic during the holidays.

Harry let himself fall into it. Whatever communing really meant, it felt soothing and encouraging all at once. The push and pull to cast Voldemort out of Slytherin's family lessened, as if Magic - and something so wonderful surely deserved a capital letter! - somehow understood that Harry wouldn't be ready for it for a while yet. Magic also seemed rather interested in Harry's thoughts about Sirius, and his garden, and his non-human friends because they stayed at the forefront of Harry's mind in vivid detail and branched out in several different, interesting directions.

Too soon, the last bell of the day rang and it was time to return to Gryffindor Tower.

"We'll do that again," Harry promised the stone in his hand. He thanked the four elements for their protection in the circle, dispelled the runes one by one, and tried to let go of the intense feeling of immersion slowly. "And we'll call home at least once a week, too. I bet you miss your family just as much as I do."

Quietly humming to himself, Harry opened the second box and found several books about occlumency - the art of protecting one's mind against mental and magical intrusions. He stuffed all of them into his bag for later perusal. A short note from Healer Williams reminded him to start with some exercises and Harry was mellow enough not to groan about yet more work.

Once he'd left the Come And Go Room, the warmth around him quickly fled. Inside his chest, Harry could still feel a little of it lingering, though, and he reached for it with his magic as best he could.

Since the weather was still cold and misty, he opted to stay in the common room and do his Charms homework. Parvati joined him, and a little later he also welcomed Neville, Colin Creevey, and Ginny at his table. For a while, they worked in silence, but then Ginny decided to open her big mouth.

"So, who of us will be writing the article about your donation?" she asked, the tone of her voice clearly indicating that she was talking about the basilisk money.

Harry felt his stomach drop a little. Still, he decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

Ginny looked at him with large, blue eyes, the very picture of innocence. "You know what I mean, Harry. Your donation this summer. It's big news, surely it should be in the paper!"

"What is she talking about?" Parvati asked, engaged despite her obvious annoyance at the disruption.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, throwing Ginny a dark look. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But Harry, people should know," she replied quietly, but insistently. "It's huge! It would make you famous!"

"No, they absolutely shouldn't," Harry replied, getting angry now. "I'm already famous enough, and I don't like it. Leave it be."

Neville thoughtfully looked from her to Harry. "Interesting that Lavender doesn't already know. Has Ginny sworn a secrecy oath?"

"Yes," Harry said. "And I don't like that you're trying to get around it, Ginny."

"You're being ridiculous," the girl insisted. "People have a right to know the whole story. Colin, you tell him!"

"Are you crazy?" Colin asked, appalled. He even pushed his chair away from Ginny for some distance. "I'd never do that to Harry. People don't ask for secrecy oaths just for the fun of it. Not even muggles do that!"

Parvati narrowed her eyes at the other girl. "I'm curious now, but I think it's time to get the ethics charter for the paper finished and signed by everyone. It'll be magically binding, Ginny, so don't think you can somehow get around keeping Harry's affairs to yourself."

"You're wasting an opportunity to improve your standing, but fine. It's your loss." Ginny flipped her long hair over her shoulder with a pout, grabbed her things, and left the table.

"That's exactly the reason why I wanted your promise," Harry sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I might want to be in the paper, but that's about stuff I'll want people to know. Can you maybe not ask me what it's about?"

"Of course," Parvati promised. "I'm not half as curious as Lavender, but even she knows that there are limits. Don't worry about it. Should Ginny get around her oath, I'll know not to accept her story."

"Thank you." Harry took a deep breath, unable to hide his disappointment. "I honestly don't get why she can't just let it be."

Parvati smirked. "Well, I have an idea, but I don't think you'll want to hear about it. She's gone for now and I'd much rather finish my Charms essay. We can compare our notes, see if we missed anything."

Harry and Neville both readily accepted. Colin's inclusion in the discussion had the added bonus that the boy asked some insightful questions none of them had thought of.

Later, shortly before curfew, Hermione joined Harry and cast a surreptitious Muffliato around them.

"Hey, I just heard from Colin that you had a little disagreement with Ginny. Did she really want to publish an article about the basilisk money?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "It wasn't wrong to keep it to myself, was it?"

"Absolutely not. You have a right to your privacy."

"Ginny said that telling everyone about would improve my standing in society, but I don't think so. Society already thought the worst of me after the parselmouth thing became known. If they knew that I gave money to the victims, they'd think me even more guilty. And also, I hate attention." Harry slumped a little. "Dobby told me that the Hogwarts elves had to destroy a ton of howlers last year. They never reached me, but ..."

"It hurts," Hermione finished softly. "I'm so sorry." She pulled Harry against her and began stroking his hair. "Don't let her bully you into anything. It's not her decision to make."

"I wonder why she even wants to talk about that stuff," Harry mumbled. he closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle ministrations. Now he knew why Hermione had nearly purred; it was divine! "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I had my account manager stipulate that Ginny has to use the money for healing. If it got out that people got money, they'd probably demand even more information. Then it would get out that Ginny was possessed by Voldemort, and I can't imagine what that would mean for the Weasleys."

"It could be problematic for Mr. Weasley at least," Hermione agreed. "And Bill is working for the goblins, having an oath breaker in the family could cost him his job."

"I don't want that to happen," Harry said. "Would you talk to her? Tell her what a bad idea it is? I don't think she really listened to us earlier."

"Of course, Harry."

They spent the last few minutes in quiet conversation and reluctantly went to bed when the prefects called their curfew.

oOo

This Saturday began just like the last one. Harry and Hermione met in the empty common room, workout clothes in their bags in case someone was up early, and didn't ask questions when instead of Dobby Betty appeared to take them to the Come And Go Room. A table was already prepared with breakfast and enough drinks to get them through an hour of training.

"Betty be sorry, but Betty be going now. Harry Potter sir be calling when you be done." With a snap of her fingers, she popped away.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked.

Harry explained the issue with the Hogwarts elves' loyalty to the headmaster, and that Dobby's prolonged presence would sooner or later force them to report the elf. "They've held out so far, but Dobby, Betty and I agreed that it is too dangerous. We'll work around it somehow. Right now Betty is pitching in."

"Well, if we get the potions brewed, Dobby won't have to stop by for them at least," Hermione said, utterly practical as usual. "We'll need the potions kit, though."

"Let's get two," Harry proposed. "One for our healing stuff, and the other for side projects."

Hermione agreed. "Hector has a lot of potions in his personal journals I'd like to brew, and there's some research that's been left unfinished."

"The Chamber is big enough for it, and I can have Dobby deliver the kits, I'm sure. We'll just have to pick really good ones so they'll last a while."

"I have a catalogue," Hermione confessed. "I'll get it later, but I have my eye on a kit already. Maybe you'll like it, too."

They got changed and started their day with meditation before moving on to fitness and the actual martial arts workout. As promised, Hermione didn't work him too hard because of the Quidditch try-out in the afternoon, but she taught him the most common yoga poses to make up for it.

"I just remembered that you could use your spell against sore muscles," she said when the cool-down was finished. "Won't that help with Quidditch later?"

"It would, but my healer told me that it'd also stop the muscles from growing," Harry explained. "It's okay before important matches or stuff, but not for our normal workouts. I wouldn't make any progress if I always healed myself."

"I guess pain relieving spells are out as well," she said, "since I haven't seen you cast one, either."

Harry hummed in agreement. "It'd be dangerous to just numb the pain when it's not really necessary. He said that people can really hurt themselves if they don't feel pain, and I want to avoid that. Sore muscles won't kill me."

"That makes sense, even if it's a bit inconvenient." Hermione blew out her breath. "But I don't think many magicals think about it like that."

"Well, they're not our problem," Harry grinned. "Better muscles and reflexes against the Dark Git and his henchmen are good, so why tip them off?"

"True," Hermione snorted and got up from her lazy sprawl. "Are you ready for breakfast? I could smell the food the whole time and it's been driving me crazy."

They showered and then took their time eating. They didn't have anywhere to be until the afternoon, and choosing potions kits wouldn't take up a lot of time.

What they hadn't factored in were their friends, however. Upon their return to the common room, all their yearmates, with Ron being the notable exception, and a few students from the lower years, flocked to them.

"Studying with you last night was fun," Colin explained. "Can we do that again?"

"Not right now, I hope," Harry said, a little sheepish. "Because I'm not in the mood for homework at the moment, to be honest."

"Maybe after lunch?" Dean asked hopefully, mainly looking at Hermione. "I could really use some help with Transfiguration."

"Help yes, but I won't give you all the answers," she said warningly. "I'm done with that, just so you know."

"Oh, we noticed," Seamus said dryly.

"What with you obliterating Weasley in Charms and everything," Parvati added. "Will you come to the library?"

Hermione checked with Harry before agreeing. "Alright. After lunch, then."

Satisfied, the others wandered off, only Neville remaining behind and tugging Harry even further towards a quiet corner.

"Can I come, too?" he asked quietly, his eyes on the girls as they settled in front of the fireplace. "Uhm, and can I ask something?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "What is it?"

"You and Hermione ..." Neville shrugged. "You're, well, you're close."

"She's my best friend," Harry said easily. "Why? Do you fancy her or something?"

"No, nothing like that,"Neville murmured, slanting a knowing look at Harry. "It's just that I overheard Ginny talking to Ron earlier, and she didn't sound very happy that you refused her yesterday. She wants you to shine, you see, because she still has a crush on you. She might see Hermione as a problem or a rival, is all."

Harry grimaced a little. "No offence, but Ginny isn't my type. She looks like my mum did at that age, I've seen pictures! And I don't care about shining or whatever. She'll just have to deal with it."

"Well, Ron sort of set her straight, at least," Neville continued. "Whatever you want to keep secret, he knows that it getting out would do more harm than good."

"I don't like him much right now, but that's something." Harry huffed. "I'll go get a book to read until lunch. Do you need something from the dorm?"

"I'm good," Neville replied, "but thanks for asking. But if you've got a tip for a birthday present for Hermione, I'd be grateful."

Harry grinned. "I've got a couple ideas."

He jogged up to the dorm. Half expecting Ron to sulk on his bed, he was grateful to find it utterly abandoned. As he stepped up to his trunk, the door snicked shut behind him, and the lock quietly engaged.

Instantly alarmed, Harry whirled around, both wands in his hands.

Right in front of him, a rugged looking house elf in a black, slightly shabby pillow case and with its feet wrapped in black fabric, stood and stared at him.

"Master not be needing to be afraid," it said gruffly. "Master Potter's Dobby be sending Ninja to Hogwarts because Ninja be needing strong master, and Ninja be wanting Master Sirius Black."

"Er, what?" Harry asked stupidly, relaxing his stance a little. "If you want Sirius, you can just ask him."

"Ninja cannot," the elf grumbled. Its slightly lined face radiated frustration and the dark eyes gleamed almost feverishly. "Master Potter's estate be very well protected. To bond with Master Sirius, Master Potter be needing to bond with Ninja first. Ninja be happy about family bond. It be meaning more spark for Ninja to draw on."

"Uhm, I'm no one's master, truly," Harry said weakly. Reasonably sure that the strange elf wouldn't suddenly attack, he put his wands away and plopped down on his bed. "Dobby is pretty much the boss of me."

"Ninja be knowing that. Ninja not interested in friendship. Ninja be wanting powerful master. Dobby be saying that Master Sirius be having tons of important work to do and Ninja be wanting that work."

Harry just bet he did. The elf's name kind of gave away what he specialized in, which was both a comfort and wasn't. "I'll do it, but I'll ask Sirius whether he wants you first. I don't want you to be disappointed, Ninja."

The elf came close to bouncing, which helped to alleviate Harry's bemusement a little.

The journal was quickly located and he penned a short note to his godfather. The answer came swiftly:

September 11th, 1993

Pup,

Excellent! Dobby introduced Ninja to me last night, and he's perfect. Please bond with him so he can enter your property and bond with me as well. I'll take care of the rest. He'll listen to you, but we're of one mind in that Ninja is to be mine. Is that alright with you?

Love,

Sirius

Harry smiled, which made Ninja's ears perk up.

Sirius,

It's more than alright! He's bouncing a little on his toes. I guess he's bursting with happiness ... somewhere deep down inside. I'll bond with him right away. Have fun, and please don't get him killed with whatever you have planned. He seems like the sort to do or die trying.

Love,

Harry

As I said, perfect, was Sirius cheeky reply. Thank you!

Harry laughed and closed the journal. "He says he wants you, so how do we do this?"

Ninja stared at him as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Master Potter be having two elves already," he squeak-growled.

"Yes, but they're friends," Harry insisted. "We shook hands on it and everything. So, what do I need to do?"

The elf's suspicious look vanished and a little smirk appeared on his face. "Master Potter be telling what he be needing from Ninja. Secrecy, hard work, loyalty, Ninja be providing it."

"Hold on." Harry dove into his trunk and searched for the book on house elves. "Ah, there it is. I know I read something about this ... ha!" He turned back around, facing the house elf, and after taking a moment to read over the pertinent paragraph, said as solemnly as he could, "Ninja, I'll bond with you if you'll protect all of House Potter's members and interests, and if you remain loyal to House Potter as long as the bond exists, and if you'll keep all of House Potter's secrets for as long as you live. In exchange, all the members of House Potter shall be your shelter and your spark."

"So mote it be," Ninja said excitedly. He vanished and reappeared right in front of Harry, taking his hand and sending a powerful bolt of energy through his arm and right into his chest. "Ninja be thanking Master Potter sincerely. Ninja be going to Master Sirius now. There be bad, bad elf in need of punishment!"

And he popped away, leaving a bewildered and slightly achy Harry behind.

oOo

"You don't look your best, Potter," Wood said as the Gryffindors convened on the Quidditch pitch for the try-outs. It was only four, but the sun was already fading fast and thick clouds were rolling in. "Are you ill?"

"No," Harry mumbled. His chest was still a little tender; Ninjas bonding magic packed a huge punch and he hoped that he'd been a lot gentler with Sirius. "I can do it."

"You'd better. And what's it with Weasley the second youngest trying to get my spot? With your broom, no less?"

Harry sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it. He's already glowering at me as it is. See?"

Wood looked over to Ron, who was indeed scowling. "He better keeps that shite away from the pitch," he grumbled. He pulled out his whistle and blew it, making Harry flinch and jump at the same time. "Listen up, everyone! Try-outs are divided by positions! Go to the team members you'd like to kick off the team and show them what you've got!"

Harry glanced to the sideline where Hermione was sitting on a blanket and flipping through the catalogue for potions supplies. Noticing his look, she smiled brightly and waved, no doubt mocking him.

I'll get her for that, Harry thought grumpily and rubbed his ringing ear. Mean witch.

Only three hopefuls, Ginny among them, sidled up to Harry.

"Did you mean it when you said that Professor McGonagall would give any seeker the Nimbus?" Ginny asked, eyeing the broom. "Because then it'd be much fairer if we could use it for the try-outs, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Let's ask her first, though." He caught Professor McGonagall's attention and beckoned her over. "Can the others use the broom for the try-outs, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked the students over with her patented stare. "You'll keep it away from the ground," she said after several moments. "You'll also not break it, because if you do, you'll be serving detention for the rest of the year. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Professor!" they replied.

"Very well then. Good luck to you all." After one last look over the top of her glasses, she wandered off to reign in Wood's impassioned speech to the hopeful wannabe keepers.

Madam Hooch took up her place, her yellow falcon's eyes no less intimidating that McGonagall's teacher's glare. "You'll each get a chance to catch the snitch," she said. "I'll take the time. If you have no control over that Nimbus, you're out. If you hurt yourself while trying out, you're out. And if you break that broom, you're out so hard that you'll still feel it after graduation. We clear?"

Harry and his three contestants gulped and answered smartly in the affirmative.

Madam Hooch sent Colin up first. The boy flew a small lap to demonstrate his handling of the broom and then went after the snitch. It took a long while until even Harry was able to spy the telltale golden glint, and Colin took even longer. He caught it long after the thirty minute mark, but he was happy and proud of himself.

"Weasley, you're next," Madam Hooch said. "Up with you, show us what you've got."

Ginny was, in one word, talented. She had flair and shot through the air with the utmost confidence. She also found the snitch quickly and hunted it down with the determination of a long-distance predator, kind of like a wolf that wouldn't let go of its prey's trail. After fifteen minutes, she had the snitch in her fist, her long hair windblown and her face glowing with exertion and smugness.

Colin's classmate Nicholas went next, but while he was a good flyer, his reflexes were too slow. The boy gave up after chasing the snitch for ten minutes and being outwitted at every turn.

"I just had to try," the boy said, grinning and shrugging. "It's fun, but I'll leave the house matches to others."

Harry grinned back and clapped him on the shoulder. "No shame in that, Nick. Thanks for trying out!"

Ginny scoffed but said nothing as Harry took the broom back from Nicholas and sat astride the handle.

"Potter, your turn," Madam Hooch called. "Up!"

Harry obediently shot into the air, flew a lap around the pitch, and then nodded at Madam Hooch to release the snitch. He even closed his eyes for a moment to give himself a challenge before he shot away, up and up until he felt the cool, misty touch of the low-hanging clouds.

It was moments like this that reminded him why he loved the game after all. The thrill of the speed made him feel alive that few things could rival. His heart was pounding in his chest as the wind whipped around him, tried to buffet him and throw him off course. It exhilariated Harry to slip between currents, to let them push him when it suited and to angle away just enough when it didn't. Keeping his eyes open for that elusive little glint of gold was the cherry on top that got his adrenaline surging up and provided that indescribable high that only other Quidditch players could understand.

After two years of acquaintance, Harry was convinced that the snitch had some sort of magical sentience and enjoyed being chased by him, because it didn't stay hidden for long. After only a few minutes it appeared at the other end of the pitch and gave Harry a ride to remember. First it rose up, right into the thick clouds, before zooming back down and right underneath the stands. Harry didn't hesitate, just followed it wherever it spiralled, zigged or zagged. The hunt was engaging all of his senses to get the most out of the broom, the weather, and even his magic. The snitch itself was spelled against summoning charms and other direct ways to catch it, but that didn't mean that accidental magic on its surroundings wouldn't help ... as Harry found out by accident.

Willing the snitch to swerve just an inch to the right with an intensity that had sweat breaking out on Harry's forehead produced a sudden gust of wind from the left and yes! There it was, fragile wings struggling between Harry's closed fingers!

"Woohooo!" he shouted, corkscrewing upwards and letting himself fall again. Triumphant, Harry finally sailed towards Madam Hooch and the rest of the Gryffindors. "I took too long, I know, but it was fun!" he called as he landed.

Madam Hooch took the snitch, tapping it with her wand once. "Nevermind the time, Potter. You managed to catch it while set to professional mode. The spot is yours, if you want it."

Colin and Nick cheered for him and Ginny congratulated, but she was obviously disappointed.

"Weasley, you've got some guts. If Wood agrees, you can have the reserve spot." Madam Hooch said and looked toward the still on-going try-outs. "In fact, all positions will have a reserve from now on if possible. About time, that."

Harry couldn't agree more. As a lot of his house mates were still trying out, he went over to Hermione, settled down on her picnic blanket and finally got to get a look at the potion kit she wanted.

"I couldn't even look at what you were doing up there," she said reproachfully and handed him a bottle of lemonade. "But congratulations! You really deserve the spot on the team."

"Thanks," Harry beamed. "Sorry if I scared you, though."

"Nevermind, I know that you can handle yourself." Hermione looked a little shifty for a moment. "But I'm still studying spells to catch you if you ever fall. Just in case."

He laughed. "That's alright. I've no desire to crash-land anytime soon. So, that's the kit you want?"

"Yes, it's got two cauldrons, one standard and one gold. Hector used the gold one for his personal projects."

"It looks good." Harry flipped through the catalogue. "Hm, but nothing really seems to match what my book requires. Maybe I'll have to write Gringotts, after all."

"It can't hurt," Hermione said, not bothered by it. "We should buy enough vials so we can build up a stock. How many, do you think? I thought two to three hundred, at least."

"Yes, absolutely. One cauldron yields around thirty doses, and we'll brew the whole lot eventually," Harry agreed. "Better make it five-hundred and we'll go from there."

Hermione made a note in the catalogue. "Where will we get the ingredients? After reading a bit in Hector's journals, the quality of ingredients on the market seems to leave rather a lot to be desired. Did you know that the Malfoys own most of the apothecaries in Britain? Apparently they've been blending their stock for decades."

"Well, I know someone who might be able to help," Harry said mysteriously and managed to evade Hermione until they'd made it back to the castle.

Just before dinner, Harry and Hermione cornered Neville in the Gryffindor common room and cast a Muffliato spell before the boy could blink.

"Yes?" Neville asked warily.

"Neville, you're my godbrother, right?" Harry began. It about broke his heart when Neville first smiled involuntarily and then returned to his wariness. "I've got a favour to ask. Will you listen, please?"

"Okay," Neville murmured.

"We'd like to work on some potions in private," Hermione said delicately. "But we found out that many apothecaries don't sell good material."

"Even worse, most of them belong to the Malfoys," Harry added. "But you said that you're growing and selling lots of plants, and the way you talk about your gardening and farming and the family business I believe they're top notch."

"Would you consider selling to us directly?" Hermione finished. "Not for less, of course, we'll absolutely pay the full price."

Neville stared at them for a moment. "I didn't expect that," he finally said. "Are you serious?"

"You're the best at Herbology in the whole school," Harry replied. "We're serious. We need the good stuff, and we don't want to pay Malfoy's family if we can help it."

Relaxing, Neville leaned back in his chair. "Wow."

"Can you help us?" Hermione asked, leaning forward a little and placing her elbows on the table. "We've got a list."

Neville crossed his arms over his chest. "I could deliver directly, but probably not everything on your list. I'd have to take your order out of my personal stock to keep my gran from noticing."

"That's alright," Harry assured him. "It's mostly to keep Dumbledore away from us. He'd probably force us to brew under Snape's supervision, and you know how that would go."

Neville chewed on his bottom lip. At last, determination settled on his face and he said, "I'll help you, but I want tutoring in Potions. Please, I'm already failing. Will you?"

Hermione smiled a little. "It's a deal. Here's the list. Whatever you can get is fine, and if you could let us know where we could discreetly buy the rest in good quality, we'd appreciate it."

Agreement reached, Harry ended the Muffliato spell and casually meandered over to Colin, who was busy cleaning his camera. Hermione stayed a few minutes longer with Neville, hashing out a plan for the tutoring, before rescuing her boyfriend from Colins enthusiasm and taking him to the great hall for dinner.

oOo

It was Professor McGonagall who rapped at Snape's door at eight o'clock on the dot.

"You're late, Potter," Snape said darkly as he opened the door. As Professor McGonagall had purposefully stood a little aside, he didn't see her right away. "Double the punishment, then. Just as you like."

"We're very punctual, Severus," Professor McGonagall said with a raised eyebrow as she joined Harry. The warning couldn't be more clear. "May we come in?"

"Mr. Potter may, yes. I fail to see what you're here for, Minerva," Snape replied, drawing himself up to his full height.

"The third years came to me with disturbing reports about your class on Thursday," Professor McGonagall said. "That you docked points for no reason and even burned a student's hall pass. Of course I'll have to get your version of events before voiding the point loss and allowing this detention to commence. I'm sure you'll agree."

"Of course." Snape stepped aside to admit McGonagall. His black eyes were burning with hatred behind her back. "Do come in."

Inside Snape's office, McGonagall commandeered the most comfy looking chair and called for tea, which made Snape twitch. When a small elf appeared with a tray full of tea things and bisquits, both teachers looked a bit taken aback.

Harry didn't. He waved at the small thing and smiled at its wide-eyed stare. Just a second later, it was gone again.

"Tea, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, already pouring.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry accepted the cup, doctored with a splash of cream and one sugar.

"Severus?"

"No, thank you," Snape gritted out. "If you would kindly get on with it? Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy spending my weekends disciplining unruly children."

"Is that so?" Professor McGonagall asked mildly, stirring cream into her own tea. "You see, I asked Poppy about Mr. Longbottom's hall pass. Turns out that she treated him for a small injury after Hagrid's class and issued one so he wouldn't get into trouble with you. Would you like to guess how amused she was that you purposefully destroyed her pass?"

Snape said nothing, but his sallow cheeks flushed a dull red.

"And then there's the matter of harassing Miss Granger for her lacking work ethics when she really hasn't been any worse than the rest of her classmates," McGonagall continued. "Thirty points for uninspired chopping and lazy stirring, my, my, Severus. That's a new low, even for you."

"She's decided to underperform severely," Snape replied smoothly. "Why she's decided to act that way, I couldn't guess, but it is my duty as a teacher to encourage her to do her best."

"Interesting way to encourage students," Professor McGonagall said evenly, if a little sarcastically. Harry really had to admire her composure. "Let's get to the matter of Potter talking in class. He said it was his first offence during that class and accepts that he deserved to lose points. But how does that warrant detention, Severus? I'm all agog."

"He was disrespectful," Snape hissed. "The little toad disparaged me in front of his friends; of course it warrants detention!"

"May I ask what you said, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall threw Harry a look that told him he'd better tell the truth, or else.

"I just remarked that Professor Snape was in fine form," Harry said, lifting his chin a little. "Which was a fact. He then accused me of being a golden boy and the rules not applying to me, to which I answered, 'If you say so, sir.' He took ten points for that, and then additionally gave me detention for no reason at all."

Her eyebrows didn't rise again, but Harry knew that Professor McGonagall was close to losing her temper. "I see," she said. "Severus? Is that how it played out?"

"I wish Potter could remember potions ingredients as well as his cheek," Snape said coldly.

After taking a sip of her tea, Professor McGonagall stood. "I've heard enough. I hereby cancel Mr. Potter's detention, and also void the point loss for Mr. Longbottom's supposed tardiness, Severus. If you decide to trouble Dumbledore, I'll involve the board of govenors myself." Her glare froze Snape on the spot. "You will not like it when I do. In the meantime, keep your bias out of your classroom, please. Potions are volatile enough without you adding fuel to the fire. Come along, Mr. Potter. I'll escort you back to your common room."

And just like that Harry was out of Snape's clutches again. He hadn't even touched his tea. But even though he was grateful, he couldn't help feeling apphrehensive.

"Professor, what if he decides to do that again?" he asked, hurrying to keep up with McGonagall.

"I expect you to come to me at once," she said. "It's policy not to get too involved in the other professors' business, that's why I didn't void your and Miss Granger's point loss."

"Well, I deserved it," Harry admitted. "But Hermione doesn't want to put in the work when there'll never be a reward. She'll probably lose a lot more points in the future, which is unfair because she's only like that because of Professor Snape. She said there probably hasn't been a potions master since he started teaching, or at least none that aren't Slytherins. He's ruining it for all of us."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I was afraid of that." She looked around and motioned Harry to step into an empty classroom. "Listen, Potter. We teachers are aware. While we do try to mitigate the damage, there's only so much we can do. We're bound by rules that have little bearing on certain colleagues, and I won't say more than that." She smiled thinly. "However, you students are free to express your opinion, as long as it isn't done slanderously. At least in this, you'll have my full support."

Harry grinned. "Understood, Professor."

"Your friends at the student paper might also think about lobbying for a binding house point rule book," she added. "Just to make thinks more transparent. Now come, I'm sure your friends are eagerly anticipating your return."

She escorted Harry to the common room but didn't stay long after advising everyone to seek her out whenever they felt unjustly punished. The rest, she left to Harry to explain.

"A rule book for house points would be such a relief," Hermione said, once Harry was done relaying Professor McGonagall's words. "That way, everyone would know what to expect for talking in class or being tardy."

"The same goes for earning points, I guess," a fourth year boy named Cormac McLaggan said. "Snape gives Slytherins points for breathing; that shite really needs to stop."

Lavender sighed. "Our first edition is nearly full, people! We've got exactly ten pages, eight if you discount the masthead, advertising, and large headlines and pictures. I'd say gather intel, observe the way teachers award and dock points and find out who the outliers are. If we can present an average per class and teacher, divided by houses, we might be able to pressure the school into implementing a binding guideline with our November edition. Not later than that, though, because nothing ever gets done over Yule."

"We should get the board of govenors involved in any case," a seventh year girl said. "They haven't done much regarding the day to day business in years, and I think that needs to change."

"Agreed," Hermione said, writing a note onto her ever-present notepad. "We need people to contact the other houses. The prefects?"

Percy sighed, but nodded. "I'll do it. If you give me something in writing they can work with, that might go over better."

"We'll work something out," Hermione promised. "I'll get back to you soon."

The day caught up with Harry fast after that. He left his friends in the common room, glad to be the only one in the dorm for the moment. There were a lot of books he wanted and needed to read, but his vision was blurry even with his glasses on.

Brady said that sometimes all I really need to do is rest and recharge, Harry reminded himself as he pulled the comforter up to his ears. No feeling bad about it allowed!

A few minutes later, he was fast asleep.

oOo

Since he'd gone to bed so early the night before, Harry was the first to come down to the common room. Only Crookshanks was there, lounging on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Good morning," Harry greeted as he plopped down next to the half kneazle. Crookshanks meowed and stretched his large paws towards Harry, who promptly used the opportunity to give the cat a high-five. "That's right, Crooks." He tapped the paw again and chuckled. "I think I'm gonna head out for breakfast. You coming?"

Crookshanks seemed to consider it, but then he curled up into a ball, making it clear that he'd rather wait for Hermione.

"Alright then. See you later." Harry gave the fluffy ball of fur a pat and set off towards the great hall.

Aside from a handful of Ravenclaws and two Hufflepuffs, no one was there for breakfast, yet. It was a bit strange to sit at the Gryffindor table alone at first, but Harry had the book on occlumency with him and was glad to read in peace while he sipped his tea and snacked on his breakfast.

"Good morning, Harry," Professor Lupin's voice said maybe half an hour later, drawing Harry from his pleasant reading haze. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Er ..." Nonplussed, Harry shook his head. He closed the book, glad that he'd decided to wrap the cover. "No, of course not. Go ahead. Were you a Gryffindor, sir?"

"As a matter of fact, I was," Lupin replied mildly. He poured tea and began heaping food onto his plate. "It's good to be back after so long."

"How was it? Then, I mean?" Harry asked.

Lupin smiled sadly. "Different," he said. "Harder. People didn't trust each other, couldn't, really. Gringotts sent black notification letters often, usually when someone's parent or family perished. People were afraid of receiving mail, or even the paper ... they were afraid of finding out what You-Know-Who had done that night."

"I don't know how they're not still afraid. He's not really dead," Harry murmured, not looking at Lupin. "Do you think he'll be back one day?"

"I sincerely hope not," Lupin replied with feeling. He took up his tea cup, but paused before taking a drink. "Harry, you have to know ... your parents were my best friends."

"I know." Harry looked up. "I saw pictures in a photo album." And Sirius told me a lot about you, too. I wish we could just have it out; you know that something's up, after all.

"Dumbledore asked me not to tell you, to keep it professional at school, but I can't." Lupin drank his tea and filled the cup again. "Not when things are so uncertain right now. If you like, I can tell you stories about them sometime."

"That'd be great," Harry admitted. He looked searchingly at the man. Lupin patiently looked back, his whole being at rest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Harry. By the way, I asked to coach the third years in the Patronus Club. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, sir. I'm glad. When will it be our turn?"

Lupin laughed. "The information will be made available this afternoon, but I'll tell you now. It's on Tuesdays before dinner, from half past five to half past six. Attendance is very high; even the seventh years want to learn the spell and they're up to their necks in work."

"I'm glad." Harry shivered. "Even from afar the dementors are dreadful."

"Hogwarts will provide very good chocolate once the boggarts come into play," Lupin said with a wink.

Their conversation turned from serious stuff to lighter topics. While the professor emptied his plate, he asked Harry about his classes and his friends and even teased him a little about his closeness with Hermione.

"She'll keep you honest on the homework front," Lupin smiled. "Your mum was the same way with your father and the rest of her friends. Smart like a whip, she was, and determined to see them all through Hogwarts with very good grades."

"But not you?" Harry asked, smirking.

"I was a bookworm myself and didn't need any encouragement," Lupin admitted. "I still like learning ... having the Hogwarts library at my disposal is a great boon."

"What were you doing before you came here?"

Lupin smiled wistfully. "I wish I could say that I was a productive member of wizarding society, but mostly I've worked in the muggle world."

"Do you live there, as well?" Harry prodded.

"As a matter of fact, I did, but I cancelled my lease. Why are you asking? Are you contemplating moving there after your graduation?"

"I don't think so," Harry answered. "I know that I have a family vault at Gringotts. As soon as I can, I'll find out what else there is. A house or something."

"You don't know, yet?" Lupin asked, surprised. He pushed his empty plate away and poured himself his fourth cup of tea. "Why not?"

"Dumbledore is my magical guardian by proxy," Harry explained. The anger about that was still simmering, but he managed a passably laconic shrug. "The goblins told me that he ordered them not to let me enter the family vault or visit the estate until I'm twenty-one. Dunno what this is about, but I'm not gonna pay rent if I've got a place already after school."

"By proxy, you say?" Lupin murmured. His fingers clenched around the cup. "I didn't know that, Harry. I thought ... I don't know what I thought." He exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. If you would excuse me?"

Harry watched him go, partly glad that Lupin apparently had no intention of pressuring him for information about Sirius, and partly afraid that he would go and confront Dumbledore about his inheritance right now.

I shouldn't have said so much, he chastised himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was done now, though, and he had the feeling that Lupin would've found out sooner or later anyway. Despite trying to stay in the background it was painfully obvious that the man was clever. Still, just thinking about it depressed Harry, and so he left the great hall a few minutes later and made his way up to the Come And Go Room.

He only noticed that he was in a snit when he slapped Sirius' journal onto the desk of his study and flipped it open more forcefully than he needed to be.

September 12th, 1993

Sirius,

I'm an idiot. Professor Lupin ate breakfast with me at the Gryffindor table and somehow I managed to tell him about Dumbledore being your proxy and keeping me away from the family stuff. He's really good at talking and now I'm afraid that he's a spy for Dumbledore or something.

I'm sorry. And sort of panicking. Shit. Sorry; crap.

-Harry

It was still early, only barely past nine, and he knew that his godfather slept in on most days, as per his doctor's orders, and that made Harry's agitation even worse. He paced through the study and contemplated writing Healer Williams more than once, only to decide against it at the last moment.

Finally, half an hour later, the journal finally flashed and Harry ran back to the desk.

Pup,

Stop panicking. It's unfortunate, yes, but Remus is truly quite good at finding things out. Has he asked questions about me? Or did he press for information in general?

Love,

Sirius

Harry nearly broke his pen, he was fumbling so madly for it.

Siri,

No, he didn't ask me about you, and we honestly just talked about him and that he's been working with mundanes before coming to Hogwarts. I think he was honestly surprised about the Dumbledore thing, and that I don't know anything about my legacy. He excused himself and went away, though, so I have no idea what he'll do now.

Do you think he'll tell Dumbledore?

Love,

Harry

Sirius' writing was uneven and in places even splotchy; Harry resolved to give him a normal fountain pen for his birthday because using a quill in bed was horribly impractical.

It's been eleven years, so I can't be sure, but if he suspects that I didn't betray your parents ... I have to trust that he wouldn't harm you, pup.

Harry scowled. I don't like that I just blabbed things out.

Don't beat yourself up about it. It's done, and Dumbledore's actions would've come to light soon enough. Our lawyers are already chafing at the bit as it is and have ordered copies of all the paperwork at Gringotts and the Ministry. It seems like Lawrence, Stone & Finch enjoy an excellent working relationship with Gringotts. Also, Ninja's bond with me is kind of a gift from Magic, because I'll use him to dig up dirt on everyone.

Harry suppressed a shudder. So he's settling in okay?, he asked.

It's perfect, Sirius replied. He absolutely stays out of Dobby and Betty's way and keeps busy with checking my food and stuff for poisons and curses. Don't worry, your two friends are not offended. They know that Ninja is my valet, and that he's oath-bound to guarantee my safety. And speaking of safety: thanks again, most sincerely, for accepting him. He's only been with me for a day and he's already taken care of more than one problem for me.

Will you tell me what those problems were?, Harry asked.

As soon as your mind is a little better protected, I will, Sirius answered promptly. Brady told me that Gringotts gifted you with a whole crate of books about occlumency. Please read them and try to work on it. Hermione too, if she's amenable. Once you're proficient enough, we'll talk about everything. I promise, kiddo.

I can't wait. Harry fought against the little sting in his eyes. I miss you.

I miss you, too.

A black fingerprint appeared next to Sirius' line and Harry touched it eagerly. The small zing of magic was like a soft hug and so very needed.

I'm really very sorry, Harry wrote after he'd composed himself. I'll try not to spend so much time with Professor Lupin, at least until you're in Italy and safe.

That's a deal, pup. So, what's new at Hogwarts? How's Hermione's birthday gift coming along? Only one more week and you'll be dating an older woman. Way to go!

The tension and self-recrimination finally dissipated and Harry allowed himself a small smile. It's going well, although Dobby'll have to be careful with his trips now ...

oOo

After exercising with Hermione and Quidditch the day before, Harry was rather knackered, but sitting at a desk for an hour was enough to lure him outside afterwards for a walk. He wondered for a moment whether he should have invited Hermione along, but then he set off alone to gather his thoughts.

Sirius had done a lot to assure Harry that he wasn't angry, and that Lupin knowing about Dumbledore's questionable involvement in Harry's affair wasn't the end of the world, but Harry still felt his failure keenly.

Suddenly, his bag grew warm. Startled, Harry opened it and saw that Healer Williams' journal was flashing insistently. Looking around but seeing nothing but vast grounds with swaying grass around and the glittering lake with Hogwarts on the other side before him, he tugged it out and opened it.

September 12th, 1993

Harry,

It's time! The basilisk eggs are hatching! I so wish you could be here, the little buggers are making a lot of noise! The head of the snake house has three people shooting pictures and I swear that half of Gringotts has stopped working for this event. There are screens installed everywhere so everyone can watch. It's kind of a festival around here right now.

Of course I'll send pictures along with Sharptooth's next letter, and you'll be allowed to pick one of the death adders to name it. It's the highest honour our snake breeding team can bestow on a human, so choose wisely.

Due to that event, I wanted to ask whether it'd be alright to postpone our chat, but if not, I'll make myself available at the usual time.

-Brady

Harry blew out the breath he'd been holding as he'd read the entry. On the one hand, he was incredibly exited about the little snakes, but on the other hand his mind was still in turmoil. He fished a pen from his bag to write his reply.

Brady,

Can we maybe talk a little? Do you have time right now? I made a stupid mistake and could really use your advice.

Sorry!

Harry

Healer Williams seemed to be okay with that and immediately encoured Harry to share his worries, which he did as succinctly as he could. He also relayed Sirius' reaction for the whole picture.

Alright, that's unfortunate. But I agree with Sirius; Lupin seems like a competent wizard, and he was friends with your parents. If he seems doubtful about Sirius' guilt, that's a good thing. Dumbledore could have made himself your full magical guardian only if Magic had found Sirius unsuitable. Sirius would have had to break his oath to you, which he clearly didn't and Lupin apparently knows that very well, if he's reacted the way you described.

My advice is to let him come to you. The ball is in his court anyway, and cornering him right now might do more harm than good. If he tells Dumbledore that you know, it's not a very great loss after all - the goblins would have given you that information sooner or later anyway, and if I'm understanding Gringotts' intel about Dumbledore correctly, he is someone to plan for all sorts of contingencies.

Harry frowned. I don't want him to do that. I just want him to leave me alone.

I know, Harry, but that probably won't happen. Dumbledore will make his move when he deems it proper, and more, he'd do that in any case. Don't believe that he's not collecting information just because you've taken steps to keep them from him. He'll have his sources, and if it isn't Lupin filling him in, he'll have other people to help him. Besides, Sirius has hired one of the most feared law firm in all of Europe and they won't leave anything in the dark.

How soon?, Harry scribbled with a vague feeling of dread in his stomach.

Not before November, but in lawyer terms, that's very soon, Brady replied. As I understand it, they're preparing for an all-out assault on several fronts, and complete stonewalling on others. They'll also draw in help from allied offices to share the workload. On that note, you'll receive mail from them very soon, so be prepared to spend a few hours tying up your brain with legalese and hard decisions. Sirius will help deciding on the best course of action, of course, so don't feel too out of your depth, and don't fear that they'll do anything you're not comfortable with.

In the face of that information, Harry decided against whining about Ron and Ginny's strange and annoying behaviour, or bringing up any of the other things that had gone one this last week.

Okay, I won't, he wrote, although he was grimacing a little at the thought of taxing his already swimming brain even more. Thanks for the warning.

What else would you like to talk about? How is the situation with Ron?

Harry smiled faintly. It'll keep.

Harry, you're my first priority. If you've got things you need to talk about, I'll listen.

There are a few, Harry admitted, but they can really wait.

If you're sure, Brady replied, and even his writing looked doubtful, which made Harry smile again. But I'll have the journal with me at all times, so please don't hesitate to write. And also, I owe you one, because watching a death adder hatch is a special experience for any parselmouth, and you granting me leave to actually be present means more than I can adequately express. Thank you!

You're welcome. Greet the little ones from me, Harry scribbled. And don't forget the pictures!

I will, you have my word. Oh, the first one is already poking its nose out!

With a sigh, Harry urged Brady to go and then slipped the journal and pen back into his carrier bag.

I've completely forgotten the basilisk eggs. Too bad I didn't get to visit them during the summer, he thought. But Sirius had been far more important and he wouldn't ever be sorry for that.

Casting a Tempus and finding out that it was almost midday, he got up from his seat, a large, flat rock, and slowly wandered back to the castle. With Healer Williams gone for the afternoon, Harry suddenly had a lot of time on his hands. Resting and reading seemed rather grand in his mind, and in the evening Lavender would finally reveal the big secret about Hogwarts' new student newspaper's name, and of course the date of its first publication.

Despite everything going on right now, or maybe because of it, Harry was really looking forward to it.

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End of part 9