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]

15. Chapter 15

Dobby's Deceit

Part 15

Suddenly having so many house elves on hand to do his bidding reminded Harry on Sunday night that he'd been well on his way to learn all manners of small, useful spells for everyday situations, and do them well enough to almost become second nature.

He didn't even know why it suddenly became jarring that one of the Potter elves wanted to snap his fingers to give Harry a thorough, yet gentle, cleaning before bed, but there it was: Harry couldn't let poor Jerry pamper him in the way the elf clearly wanted.

"It's got nothing to do with you or the others," Harry whispered, holding the inconsolable elf by the shoulders. "Dobby has lots and lots of work to do; he needs you way more than I do. I can do the personal hygiene charms myself, honest ... but thank you for looking after me."

"Jerry be a bad elf," the elf cried. "Master Harry not be wanting bad elves to serve him!"

"That's not true," Harry said firmly. "You know it's not. I get that you feel a need to help, but I don't need help with this, okay? I need you to help Dobby run my hotel in France, and work in our gardens. We need lots of food for you, don't we?"

"Potter Manor be having lots of elf berry bushes," Jerry hiccoughed, "but Jerry be seeing wild Potter's Field. That be more work than house elves can handle. Plant life there be very strong. Very deeply connected to ley lines." He wrung his small hands. "Potter elves not be useful that way!"

"Then find other things to do. Take shifts watching over Snape and Dumbledore, learn how to fight from Ninja or whoever is willing to teach you ... anything to keep you busy. But I don't need you to bathe me as if I were a baby." Harry had learned enough about his high-strung friends by now to know not to waver, because house elves would take any give in resolve and run with it. "I'm not a baby anymore, and I need to be able to look after myself, in case I somehow lose you. How can I do that if I don't know any spells?"

Jerry's lip wobbled dangerously, and his large eyes filled with tears. "We just found Master Harry! We not be losing you!"

"Great. That's really great." Harry carefully cupped Jerry's face, noting how it seemed to calm him right down. "I don't want to lose you, either. I just need you for more important things than helping me wash, alright? You're better than that, in any case, and I need to know as many different spells as I can. Just in case the bad people get me alone."

"Jerry understands." Jerry sniffed a little, but there was a look of determination on his little face. "Jerry be grooming elf for old Master Charlus Potter. Jerry be teaching Master Harry everything he needs to know about being presentable in public. If Master Harry not be needing Jerry very much for grooming, Jerry be interested in learning fighting magics. Master Harry definitely be needing bodyguards. Ninja be telling us often."

"It would be a great cover for you," Harry replied with a grin. "Good idea! Has Ninja already chosen some of your friends for his security troupe?"

"Three elves, and they be busy learning," Jerry readily supplied. "Ninja be very good fighter, but he be only one elf. We be needing more teachers to do important work for Master Harry and Master Harry's dogfather."

"I'll talk to Gringotts and Sirius about it, see if we can't find some. Maybe we can even lure them into the family. It's not like there isn't room for a couple more." Harry grinned. "Honestly, you guys give me the best ideas. Thanks for that."

"House elves be trying," Jerry said modestly. He brushed away his tears and straightened up a little. "Now, if Master Harry be insistent on not letting Jerry help with grooming, Master Harry be learning best way to do it himself. Show Jerry the cleaning charm, body and teeth. Then Jerry be showing Master Harry how much better elf magics be."

Out of necessity, their first lesson was only ten minutes long, and Harry still had to endure the faintly amused looks of the other boys when he finally returned to the dorm room to slip into bed, but even that small bit of new magic was enough to get Harry hooked. Jerry would continue to teach him whenever it was convenient, and in exchange the elf would sit in on Ninja's lesson and try to absorb as much as he could.

oOo

Breakfast on Monday was never going to be peaceful, not after Hermione's fiery article in the Hogwarts Herald, but the shrieks of shock in the Great Hall after the Daily Prophet and a few editions of the Wizarding International Times had arrived were still hell on Harry's ears.

"Groaning ghouls, Granger was right!" McLaggen half-shouted and waved around his copy of the WIT. "At midnight, Black's lawyer filed a petition with the ICW in Rome!"

Lavender was nearly glowing with smugness, even as the noise level in the Great Hall rose exponentially. "Did you really think we'd print bad news?"

"No, but how did she know?" McLaggen's gaze, and that of everyone else, zeroed in on Hermione. "How did you know?"

Hermione delicately popped a piece of sausage into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, and only then she said, "That's classified. The Herald's sources enjoy complete protection, as you know."

"She must have an in with the goblins," Ron said snidely into the silence. He poked his knife into Sirius' face on the front page, getting egg yolk all over it. "They might be convinced Black's innocent, but I'm not."

Hermione scowled at him. "Of course you're not. God forbid you believe that something good could be happening to Harry for once."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Ron demanded angrily.

By now the Hufflepuff table was quiet as well, the students listening in without shame. Even the teachers, Harry noted with some discomfort, had their ears pricked, and no doubt a listening charm active.

"It means that whenever something remotely good happens, you're there to pick it apart," Hermione said. Her hair bristled with her fury. "I've had enough of your pessimism, Ronald Weasley! Why can't you be happy that Harry's godfather appears to be innocent? The goblins certainly believe it, and until now their word has been good enough for you, and everyone else as well! Besides, even if Sirius Black weren't innocent, he'd still be away from Britain, which means that the dementors need to go right now."

"Hear, hear!" Fred cried. "Make Hogwarts proud, dementors out!"

His twin echoed the call, followed by Lee Jordan, who used his cutlery as drum sticks. Enthusiastic as always, Colin and Dennis Creevey joined him, and suddenly the Great Hall was filled with the hammering of forks and knives on sturdy tables and the battle cries of incensed students.

"Well done," Hermione praised the twins. "Civil unrest might just get us what we want."

"At your service, Miss Dagworth-Granger," George said with a bow. "Although we're just in it for the Quidditch."

"And maybe Harry's happiness," Fred added.

"Definitely the mischief," George tacked on thoughtfully.

"Oh, and of course letting Ronnikins eat crow." Fred grinned. "Can't forget that!"

"I hate you," Ron growled.

Hermione smirked. "You only have yourself to blame, Ronald. Hey, Parvati, Lavender, how about we owl bomb the Ministry with howlers? Runcorn, you in? You're the most sarcastic of us all."

Another cry rose up at the suggestion and around Harry a fierce barter for howler parchment began, which immediately spread to the other three house tables.

"You're scary," Harry told his girlfriend earnestly, to which she replied with a chirped, "Thank you."

"You're mental, the whole bloody lot of you," Ron groused, snagging the carafe with custard and dousing his waffles with it until they swam.

Professor Flitwick's rather half-hearted shouts of, "Order, students!" were summarily ignored until the bell for the first class of the day rang.

oOo

Most of the first years started with Care of Magical Creatures, which was lucky for Harry. While the others were looking at a group of wild kreazles, he was able to sidle up to Hagrid and pass on Healer Williams' request for more interaction with magical reptiles.

"I might be able ter get a few more lizards, maybe even a goanna ... yer really think yeh can talk ter them?" Hagrid rumbled.

Harry tried to look as innocent as possible. "I don't know, but after the mokes it might be fun to find out. Even if I can't understand them, I'd have at least heard their language. That's interesting, isn't it?"

"Very," Hagrid agreed with a wistful sigh. He then clapped Harry on the shoulder, nearly sending him sprawling in the mud. "Yer a good lad, wanting me involved. There might be lots of important people wanting ter talk ter yeh, though, an' I have no idea what Professor Dumbledore might think about it."

"He doesn't need to know," Harry said, trying to keep calm. Letting the headmaster have any say about his schooling or hobby was increasingly chafing, especially now that Sirius had come out of hiding. "It's my business, not his."

"He might want ter talk ter yeh about it," Hagrid replied uncertainly. "A great scholar, Professor Dumbledore is. Would be a great opportunity, Harry."

"Yes, but one I don't want him to have," Harry insisted. "I do this for myself. Maybe I'll write something about it one day, but I don't need an adult for that. If anyone gets to help me, it'll be Hermione."

Taken aback, Hagrid stroked his thick beard. "Well, I dunno if I should ..."

"I don't want to get you in trouble," Harry said, deciding to cut his losses before the discussion could really begin. "Just forget it, it's not important."

In that moment, Hermione arrived, a fat kneazle cradled in her arms.

"Here, take her," she said and handed the huge thing over. "Millicent Bulstrode was harassing her, so I rescued her before yet another Slytherin could cause trouble for Hagrid."

Harry staggered a little under the weight but rightened himself soon enough. "You're one large lady, wow."

The kneazle purred, blinking slowly.

"I asked Crookshanks to come, so we can compare half-kneazles to their wild relatives, but to be honest, he simply vanished among them," Hermione confessed. "And I'm pretty sure he'll find a dame or two to have fun with. Sorry, Hagrid."

The man waved it off. "It's no matter ter me if it isn't ter them. He's a handsome tom, regardless of his pedigree. Them ladies know what they're about."

Class wrapped up soon after, the kneazles leaving with proudly raised tails and a short, sharp meow for their more liked students. Surprisingly, Goyle seemed to have some trouble letting go of his kneazle, and the kneazle to leave him.

"That was weird," Hermione said quietly as they trudged up the hill. "Kneazles as a whole can't abide mean people. Makes me wonder ..."

Harry huffed a little. "He's plenty mean when Malfoy's around, though."

"I know." Hermione shook her head. "It's just something to think about, I guess."

Against his will, Harry pondered the little mystery until they reached the Ancient Runes classroom. Hermione went to sit with her partner, and Harry put his bag down next to Zabini's. Professor Babbling was already at the front, a veiled blackboard hovering behind her.

"Welcome, class!" she called. "It's good to see you all so bright-eyed after yesterday's letter sorting. To make up for that bit of unpleasantness, and since Professor Vector got such a nice surprise when she did this, I've decided to let you have a challenge as well. Everyone who manages at least a partial result will get ten points and a chocolate frog. Should someone solve this little puzzle, I'll hand out fifty points and a whole box of chocolates. How does that sound?"

The class cheered, only to follow up with groans when the blackboard revealed rune clusters that didn't seem to make any sense at first glance.

"Professor, can we work in teams?" Malfoy asked, a touch of arrogance in his voice.

"If you're prepared to share the spoils, be my guest," Professor Babbling answered. "Your time starts now!"

With Padma and their bags and chairs in tow, Hermione sat down at Harry and Zabini's table. "You don't mind, do you?"

Zabini snorted. "Anything to shut Malfoy's yappy mouth." He looked over to the blond boy holding court with Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Daphne Greengrass. "He thinks he can get the solution out of Greengrass, poor sod."

Harry copied the instructions from the board onto several pieces of paper. "Definitely looks like more spells, but not really. They're aligned strangely. But I see the Hovering Charm in there."

"Could be part of a ward matrix," Parvati said. "But without boundaries it's hard to say."

"Let's start with what Professor Babbling has given us," Hermione suggested. "The placing on the blackboard seems to be deliberate."

Everyone agreed and they began dividing the task of finding clues. Hermione chose the meaning of the runes, since that was by far the most time-consuming task. Padma and Zabini elected to look for connecting points, in a hope to prove the matrix theory, and Harry decided to play around in the hope of stumbling over something worthwhile.

After a few minutes, Hermione said, "Well, these are definitely all spells. See here? It's move-strength-turn, maybe some sort of pushing spell, and the hovering charm, just like Harry said. This here is sun-solid-strong. Lumos, perhaps."

"Definitely," Padma agreed. "But there are more runes attached to the spells. They seem pointless, like they're there to confuse us. Just look at their meanings. It's ridiculous."

Zabini took Hermione's parchment and turned it slowly, looking at it from all angles. "You know what? It could be ... yes. It could be attachment," Zabini said, tapping said runes. "Literally. They're placed weirdly around the spells, but they have to mean attachment. What else could it be?"

"I don't see it," Padma confessed.

"I do, now that you're mentioning it." Harry waved his wand lazily, first in what he thought the first spell was, seamlessly doing the hovering charm and then the full body bind he only recognized because he'd read about it in his advanced textbook. "I'd say this is a spell chain," he said, eyeing the faint string of magic drifting from his wand tip. "Look, the magic isn't seperate. It's like one long spell."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Zabini asked. "We haven't even begun studying chain casting yet. It won't come up until fifth year."

"The attachment gave it away. I don't know how it makes sense, but it does. And it's not so hard, once you've actually done the spells close together. Look ... under the table." Harry performed the first spell as quietly as he could. "It's a sharp swish. Then Wingardium Leviosa, it goes swish and flick, and the third one goes flick and drag ..." He went through all the spells and did it a second time to let the others see where he saw the connection between spells.

"Well, the magic is certainly only one stream ..." Padma blew out her breath. "I just see a problem with proving your theory. How do these extra runes translate to wand movement? They're not the same runes for the spell clusters you think are connected. There's nothing to make it obvious."

"Because it isn't. I think I have an idea." Zabini took their shared copy of the task and began scribbling on it. A few minutes later, he presented the chain Harry had demonstrated, all the extra runes on the spell clusters connected by lines. The visual looked like a short, undulating snake. "Since it's not the literal sameness of the runes, and not the sameness of meaning either, I thought it might be complementary meaning. If the pushing spell reaches out with sharp-dangerous, then the hovering charm could connect with sheath-safety. See? Those are the runes, they fit. Like interlocking ends to connect the chain."

"That's brilliant," Hermione gushed. "And so very individual! Just think what it probably means for spell chain crafting! Every crafter would have their own handwriting, so to speak! Like code in computer programming! It'd make the chains far more robust, too. I mean, there probably are spell chains around with just the connecting rune to connect the individual spells, right?"

"I have no idea, but it's standard in the duelling community to use spell chains," Blaise said. "It saves time and bundles magical power, which is good for endurance."

"Really?" Harry asked, rapt. "Are there books about that?"

"Yes, of course, thousands of them. My mother took me to a tournament a couple of years ago," Blaise explained. "Even then I could tell that every duelist had a different style, and that everyone's magic was behaving differently."

"I'm a little overwhelmed," Padma admitted. "I mean, it makes sense, or as much sense as we're able to make at this point, I guess, but isn't that terribly advanced? And I still don't get how people even get to this point by just seeing the runes. It seems a lot like free associating to me. Pushing is sharp and dangerous, and hovering is sort of like catching and securing something? Why isn't it the other way around? I could push someone or something to save it, and let someone hover to drop them off a high cliff."

"Those are fantastic questions," Hermione said, not daunted in the least. "I'll try to find an answer if Professor Babbling won't be able to explain." She began writing on her sheet of paper.

"I really want to understand. Can you go through the sequence again, Harry?" Padma asked. "I want to see whether I can spot any gaps in the spell fire."

Hermione raised her hand to obtain permission from Professor Babbling, which was granted with some excitement.

"I'm frankly astonished that you managed to get so far in just an hour," she said as she warded the empty corner of the classroom for them. Noticing their interested looks, she laughed. "Try to pace yourselves, please, we'll get to all the good parts in time. Now, give me a brief run-down of your thought process." Towards the class, she called, "Everyone who wants a demonstration, come on over!"

Malfoy and Parkinson were complaining about having their time cut short, but the rest was thankfully just curious, especially the Ravenclaws.

Hermione, Padma, and Zabini took turns explaining what they'd done until Harry had come up with the spell chain.

"I honestly just took what Hermione said about the runes and ran with it," Harry said with a little shrug. "I tried them out and noticed how well the wand movements fit together. Zabini then discovered the complementary nature of the extra runes. Interlocking spell chain runes, wasn't it?" Harry grinned. "Great stuff."

Professor Babbling clapped happily and the students talked lowly among themselves. "How wonderful! We'll talk this challenge through next time, I promise. Alright, then please demonstrate the spells, Mr. Potter."

Harry drew his holly wand, took a breath, and then unleashed the spells, one after the other. With large movements, the spell fire was very visibly flowing in one glowing string that changed colour as one spell seamlessly turned into another. The last spell was a Lumos that seemed to suck in the magical traces until there was just one glowing orb of light left.

"Fantastic," Professor Babbling praised. "Good work for a beginner, Mr. Potter! You had barely any dips in the flow of your magic. How do you feel? Exhausted?"

"No, Professor," Harry said honestly. "Not at all." He glanced at the ball of light hovering under the ceiling of the room. "Er, should I ... ?"

"No, no, leave it on. My classroom is a bit dark, let it go out by itself," she replied. "Now to your reward, minus the ones I'll give out to your class mates, of course." She hefted a huge box of chocolate frogs onto her desk. "Sharing those will be no issue, I hope."

Harry and the others shook their heads.

"Any ideas on how to distribute those fifty points?" Professor Babbling asked.

It was Padma who stepped forward. "May we have a minute?"

"Certainly. Take ten, I'll just have a look at everyone else's work."

"I propose that Hermione and Harry get twenty-five points, Zabini another twenty because he found out what the extra runes were, and I get the rest?" Padma proposed in a hushed voice.

"That's not fair, you worked just as hard as the rest of us," Harry protested.

Padma smiled. "That's nice of you to say, but I didn't have any great insights. That was all you, Zabini, and Hermione, really."

"I've read ahead a lot," Harry countered. "I wouldn't have had any idea if I hadn't."

"How far ahead?" Padma asked a little narrow-eyed.

"Uhm, just chapters here and there, but ... two years? Three?" Harry winced when she huffed with shock. "I told you."

Blaise raised his hands when Padma turned to look at him. "My mother arranged for tutoring before I started Hogwarts, same as yours, I expect. Duelling is one of many gentlemanly pursuits I'll have to take in the summers after fourth year, and the least obnoxious. I've merely read a bit ahead, to prepare myself for the inevitable."

"I wish I could have duelling tutoring," Harry sighed. "It sounds great."

"And you know me, I'm just a know-it-all," Hermione said and shrugged. "Honestly, Padma, I don't really care about the points for this. I agree that Zabini had the brightest ideas, and if the rest of us get ten points each, I'll be happy."

"Truly?" Padma asked tentatively. "Zabini deserves the points, and so do you for being so quick with the translation, and Harry for recognizing it for what it was. I'll try to do better next time, I promise."

"Ten points for each of us, and Zabini gets twenty," Hermione repeated. "End of discussion."

"But we'll share the chocolate equally," Harry said. "You'll all need it tomorrow for the Patronus Club."

"Rub it in, Potter," Zabini said, but he was smiling a little.

They left a frog on Professor Babbling's desk as they relayed their decision, and if the professor was surprised about them letting Slytherin have so many points, she didn't show it.

"It's rare that someone manages the first challenge," Professor Babbling said, absentmindedly unpacking the squirming frog and snatching it before it could hop off, "so be prepared for more ambushes. There's no sense in holding back when you've got energy to spare for my class. Now off with you, I bet you're hungry."

On their way down to lunch Padma groaned quietly. "I knew it. She'll expect me to excel now."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione replied. "She won't have challenges every class, and you don't have to do any extra work if you don't want to."

"Be careful what you give up, Patil," Daphne Greengrass said as she passed their little group. Her pale eyes went to Zabini. "Your group had a much better time than mine. If you're not careful, I'll angle for your place."

"You forget yourself, Greengrass," Malfoy sneered. He bumped into Hermione, pushing her painfully into the wall. "We do not work with Gryffindorks."

"Speak for yourself, Malfoy," Greengrass retorted haughtily. "I, for my part, want to pass this class with high marks. If you want to keep scraping the bottom of the barrel with Parkinson and Crabbe, be my guest."

Harry glowered at both her and Malfoy. "We're not interested in working with bullies." Uncaring what the others might think, Harry took Hermione's hand in his and inspected the light scrape on her skin. "You do bullshite like what Malfoy just did and you're out. You get me?"

Smirking, Greengrass inclined her head. "Crystal, Potter. Patil, Zabini, have a good break."

With that she strode off, long, pale hair swishing elegantly. It took a moment, but then Pansy Parkinson ran after her, leaving Malfoy and Crabbe standing there like Quidditch goal posts in torrential rain.

"So," Zabini said after a charged moment. "Shall we move along?"

"Yes, please." Hermione pressed against Harry's side, her fingers still in his. As they rounded a corner, she asked, "Did we just admit Daphne Greengrass into a study group?"

"Seems like it," Harry mumbled unenthusiastically. "Though we don't even have one."

"Yet," Zabini said. "And there won't be one for some time yet if you don't make it official. But you can expect her to want to join you for group work. And before you get it in your heads that she's really doing it because we're ... friendly, forget it. She and I are not friends; I'm just her excuse to get closer to you."

"It's ridiculous that she should need an excuse," Hermione said. "Politics in your house are beyond annoying."

"Seconded," Padma muttered.

"And yet they're a vital part of a Slytherin's Hogwarts experience," Zabini replied dryly. "She's not being subtle about it, but then again she doesn't have to be with a pair of Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw. The other Slytherins will just see her ambition to get a cozy spot close to The-Boy-Who-Lived and the Dagworth-Granger heiress and call it good."

"Much like you did," Harry said with raised eyebrows.

Zabini shrugged. "As I said, that doesn't mean it can't be mutually beneficial, now does it?"

They trooped down the stairs, avoiding the trick steps and evading a flying dung bomb, courtesy of Peeves. As they walked, Padma began a tentative conversation with Zabini, which gave Harry an opportunity to heal Hermione's scratched skin with a quick spell.

"There, all better," he said quietly, inspecting the still pink skin.

"Thanks." Hermione smiled briefly, before scowling. "I'd tell on Malfoy, but we both know how effective that would be."

"Next time," Harry assured her. "Until then, a certain house elf could have some fun ..."

Hermione giggled. "You're evil, Harry James."

"We share our avenging, remember?" He squeezed her fingers. "He won't touch you again. Not without regretting it."

"No, he really won't," Hermione agreed.

They held hands until they reached the Great Hall and only stopped when it became natural due to having to climb over the bench to take a seat.

"You've just missed that lady from the Ministry, Madam Bones, and a team of aurors," Seamus told them. He gesticulated with his fork towards the head table, where Dumbledore was sitting and looking quite vexed. "We think it was about the dementors."

"Well, I should hope so," Hermione said and dipped her spoon into the exotic sweet potato and peanut soup Harry's elves had prepared. It was garnished with small chicken skewers and little flowers and looked very unlike the other dishes on the table. "Mmh, that's very good. Why is the headmaster so displeased, then? He was against their placement here, after all."

"Maybe he wanted to be the one to catch Black," Ron said. His eyes held that certain, malevolent glint Harry had come to know so well over the last few weeks. "I think it's great that our safety is so important to him."

"I'm more concerned that he hasn't been able to alter the wards to keep Black out to begin with," Hermione sniped back. "What good are they if every criminal on the run can enter the school at will?"

"True, that," Lee Jordan said around his mouthful of steamed broccoli. "Hogwarts' wards are stupidly old and powerful, should've been child's play to tweak them."

"Might have kept out Quirrelmort in first year, too" Harry murmured so only Hermione could hear.

She promptly choked on her soup, but instead of berating him for his terrible timing, she began to laugh gaily, as if he'd just told the best joke in the universe.

"Care to share?" Lavender asked, amazed at the unusual display.

"It's ... an inside joke," Hermione wheezed. With as much dignity as possible she wiped the tears from her face, although she was still trembling with suppressed hilarity. "Harry."

"'m not sorry, 'Mione," Harry told her and dunked his chicken skewer into his soup. To Lavender, he said, "Can we find out what Madam Bones wanted?"

"We're working on it," she replied. "Professor McGonagall might tell us after class, she's the deputy headmistress, after all."

"Anyone willing to place a little bet?" Fred called.

After lunch, Harry started when Hermione nonchalantly walked with him to his Arithmancy class.

"I thought you had a free period now?" he asked, remembering dimly that this would have been her Muggle Studies class before she'd dropped it.

"I did, but I figured that we could both do with a late morning on Tuesdays," Hermione said, smiling shyly. "I hope that's okay; Professor Vector saw no issue with me switching classes since there was still room in this one."

"No, of course not. Thanks for thinking of it!" He breathed a sigh of relief. "Honestly, sleeping in a little will really help me stay on top of things."

"That's why I did it. I liked having the time to do my homework, but helping you train is so much more important. Besides," Hermione flushed a little, "I have decided to do well in my OWLs and NEWTs, but not stress myself out so much over regular end of year tests. It's not like I'll fail, and they won't be in any way relevant after school."

"Wow," Harry said, staring at her in frank admiration before he blushed himself and looked down at the ground. "Thank you."

Hermione bit her lower lip. "Tuva's approach to schooling made me realize how ... high-strung I've been. She sees the bigger picture, the realities of studying towards the goals we'd like to set for ourselves. I didn't see it. I was just seeing all the tests we'll have to take over the years, and the books we'll need to read to pass those tests. Just thinking about it exhausts me, and I only had that epiphany about three days ago."

"It's a great epiphany," Harry assured her. "I'm glad you can relax a little now."

"Me, too."

They reached the classroom and stopped outside.

"Will you sit with me?" Harry asked.

"Thank you, but I'd better not. You already have a good group," Hermione said. "I'll find somewhere else to sit, maybe let you have a bit of competition."

"We're not that good," Harry protested, but he smiled.

"Don't you dare prove that," she said and entered the classroom with a little flounce. "I'll have you run five extra laps tomorrow if you do."

With that hanging over his head, Harry did his best do pay attention. Professor Vector was her usual lively self, first discussing her homework assignment and then taking them through their paces. Despite it not being a creative challenge this time, Harry found it nonetheless interesting.

Transfiguration after that was blessedly practical in nature. Professor McGonagall demanded a demonstration of the spells they had studied so far and then divided the class into groups. Harry ended up with Parvati, Ernie Macmillan, and Malfoy as well as Gregory Goyle, of all people.

"Each group will get a spell to study and practice," Professor McGonagall said as Harry hatefully glared at the blond Slytherin. "Next Monday, you will give a short presentation, explain how the spell is done, and a demonstration. Every one of you will present and demonstrate, so don't try to fob off your work on the others in your group." She raised a black witch hat. "I'll go around now and let you draw your spell."

Malfoy insisted on being the one to draw their spell, which Professor McGonagall allowed with pursed lips.

"The Switching Spell," Malfoy said incredulously. "Honestly? That's too hard, Professor."

"I assure you that it is well within your capabilities, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said dryly. "Generations of students agree with me." Her stern gaze travelled over them all. "I trust that you'll find the relevant chapter in your textbook, and any additional information you may require in the library. If you require tutoring for executing the spell, come see me during my office hours. I'll allow for fifteen minutes per group."

Before Malfoy could argue further, Harry thanked her and the professor moved on to the next table.

"Fantastic," Malfoy sneered. He dramatically slumped back in his seat. "This school is ridiculous. First rabid hippogriffs and now too advanced spells. My father will hear about this; it's time that the board of govenors finally does something about all of this."

"I thought your father lost his post on the board," Harry retorted. "Because he was bribing and threatening the other school govenors to get Dumbledore and Hagrid fired."

Ernie Macmillan choked on his indrawn breath, and even Goyle looked a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?" Harry went on, watching with satisfaction as Malfoy turned beet red with fury. "I hope you'll understand that I'm not keen on having your dad up in my school business, Malfoy."

"Yes, me neither," Ernie agreed, clearing his throat. "So, the Switching Spell. Shall we look it up?"

Parvati was the first to open her book, inviting Harry to share with her. Goyle tried to do the same with Malfoy, but the boy was so incensed that he smacked the book away and turned around with a huff.

"I'll share ... if you don't mind," Ernie said haltingly. "I could write notes. More room that way."

Goyle grunted his agreement, a little wary but mostly relieved, and the four set to work. The whole remaining forty minutes of class, Malfoy managed to pout and ignore them, and Professor McGonagall's disapproving stare.

Five minutes before the bell rang, Parvati spoke up.

"We should meet every day to talk about our progress," she said. "And we'll need to practice the spell, so it'd be good if we could do that together, too. What time would be good for you all?"

As they all only had classes until four-thirty in the afternoon, it was quickly decided to meet up half an hour before dinner to get their work done. For practice, Professor McGonagall helpfully assigned them several unused classrooms close to the Great Hall, each with a ghost to provide oversight, in case something went wrong.

"If you stick to the instructions in your textbook, no medical intervention should be necessary," the professor nonetheless said, "and I trust that you'll be able to act responsibly. Failure to do so will have dire consequences. Don't disappoint me. Class dismissed."

For some reason, Professor McGonagall's stern eyes lingered meaningfully on Harry, and he decided to stay behind and find out whether she wanted something.

"If you want to complain about Malfoy, I can stay with you," Parvati offered.

"Thanks, but it's not just that. I'll see you in the library," Harry said. He stuffed his notes into his bag and closed it tightly. Even with Blue and Sweetie gone back to Gringotts, he wasn't taking any chances around Malfoy. Catching Hermione's eye, he pointed at Professor McGonagall and received an understanding nod in return.

"Come, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said once they were alone. "There's someone waiting to meet you."

She led him into an adjourning room, where a middle-aged wizard of pale colour, both in skin and hair, was sitting at a desk. Upon spying Harry, he got to his feet and bowed formally.

"Mr. Potter, it is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," he said mildly. "My name is Wymark Finch, and I'll be your personal and family attorney going forward, if it pleases you."

Harry bowed back. "The pleasure is all mine. Really. Uhm, can you prove that you are who you say you are?"

Finch smiled at that, small and a little mean. "Of course. Lord Black instructed me to provide any proof that is necessary. Allow me ..." He pulled out his wand and took a short, unbreakable vow on his life and magic, binding his service to Harry's wellbeing and best interests for as long as their professional relationship endured. Afterwards, as if nothing momentous had just happened, he continued, "If you accept my pledge, please state so with intent. I trust you know how to do that?"

"I do." Harry flicked his wand from his wrist holder and raised it. "I, Harry James Potter, herewith accept Wymark Finch's pledge to the House of Potter."

"Well done, and thank you. As time is of the essence, and my presence will be noticed very soon, let us get the formalities out of the way." Finch pointed to a neat stack of parchments and a dark red quill. "I apologize in advance for the prolonged use of a blood quill. However, it is necessary to bind my firm to House Potter in all the ways that matter."

Sighing, Harry picked it up. "Do I just sign, or do I need to read each of those before I do?"

"Mr. Potter, the vow Mr. Finch has taken on your behalf would not allow him to bind you in shady contracts," Professor McGonagall explained. "While it would normally behoove you to read any contract very carefully before signing, in this instance it is, in fact, not necessary."

"Alright then." Harry signed the first form, inwardly sighing at the thin red lines that were appearing on the back of his hand. He pulled out his wand. "Er, can I heal myself in between? That way I won't have to go to Madam Pomfrey."

"That's perfectly fine, Mr. Potter," Finch said. "It'd be ... fortuitous if this meeting could remain secret. But don't worry if it doesn't, there won't be any negative consequences for you."

And so Harry signed the forms, taking a small break after every five signatures to heal his hand with the strongest spell he had learned from Healer Williams' book. He smirked as he signed the transferral of legal representation to the law firm, making it impossible for Dumbledore or even the Ministry to do something about it as long as Sirius was engaged with the ICW in Italy.

Nearly twenty minutes and four healing charms later, Harry finally got to put the blood quill down. "It still stings," he muttered, rubbing at the pink but unbroken skin. "Is there anything else I can do to make it better?"

"I brought some murtlap essence," Professor McGonagall said. She pulled the small flask from her robe pocket and placed it on the table. "Take a couple of drops and massage them in. You did good work with your charms, you should be as good as new tomorrow, or the day after at the latest."

"Thank you, Professor. Do you need anything else from me, Mr. Finch?" Harry asked.

The lawyer inclined his head in a half-bow. "Not right this moment, Mr. Potter, but I'll regularly send you post from now on. We'll go by owl first, see what Headmaster Dumbledore will do about it. If I fail to receive a timely response, say three days after sending, I will assume that the mail has been redirected, or intercepted, and open a legal investigation."

"What? Over a lost letter?" Harry was surprised.

"Legal post is protected by Ministry laws," Professor McGonagall explained. "Hindering its delivery is a felony offence. Missing post from a lawyer could drastically alter the outcome of a trial, for example. Counter-suing was a huge problem until this measure was implemented, as lenghty trials can be an immense burden on society."

"Trust your father to know what is necessary for your protection," Finch agreed. At Professor McGonagall's sharp look, Finch explained, "Lord Black blood-adopted Mr. Potter on his first birthday, in 1981. Gringotts has all the pertinent documentation, of course. It is not a secret any longer as the ICW has been made aware of this and other facts as of ..." He consulted his watch, "Five hours ago."

"That means Lord Black's petition has been accepted," Professor McGonagall said with an air of grim satisfaction. "Good."

"Walker has that case well in hand," Finch assured Harry. "And the ICW is known to be very thorough in its investigations." He allowed himself another of his slight, mean smiles. "I'll have my hands full these next few months, as the British Ministry will doubtlessly try to mitigate the damage Lord Black's sudden reappearance in Italy has caused to its reputation. But back to the matter of Heir Potter's legal representation: My firm will file all forms and consult with Gringotts on how to handle the distribution of your mail. Your father's trial in Rome will cause a significant increase in mail, so much so that your account manager is certain that you'll need someone to sort your mail for you at the bank."

"Does it have to be a goblin?" Harry asked.

"Not necessarily. One of your many friends would do very well," Finch allowed. "I'll see to it that your account manager sends along his specifications to fill the post."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Harry exhaled and slumped a little in his seat. "It's really happening, isn't it? Sirius might be free soon."

"Yes." Finch said it without sounding the least bit worried. At Professor McGonagall's slight nod, he added, "Our hour is up, so I'll take my leave. Zippy, please."

The elf appeared promptly and stood before Harry with quivering ears. "Master Harry! Zippy be successful in keeping Old Whiskers busy, and now Zippy be taking Master Harry's Finch back to London. Master Sirius be saying it be alright."

"It is. Thank you, Zippy, I owe you one. This was really important," Harry admitted.

"It be a pleasure to serve!" Zippy declared. He held out his hand for Finch. "Back to Master Harry's Finch's office?"

"Gringotts would be fine," Finch said, gently taking the offered hand. "Expect my first letter within the week, Heir Potter. Good day."

The lawyer nodded at both Harry and Professor McGonagall and was promptly whisked away with a quiet pop.

Professor McGonagall blew out a tense breath. "The implications of your elf just popping about Hogwarts like that really has me reeling, lad," she murmured. "You had better keep your secrets, lest the unsavoury elements in this school learn of things they have no business knowing."

"I will, Professor," Harry promised. "I just have one question."

"Only one?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile.

"Dumbledore will find out what I've just done."

"And he'll be furious to have lost control over your publicity," Professor McGonagall agreed. "But that was not a question."

"I'm wondering what he can do about it. Will do about it." Huffing, Harry rubbed over the faint red lines on the back of his hand. "At least he can't get me alone without Mr. Finch ever again. That's something."

"It might be everything," Professor McGonagall murmured. "That man is an accomplished occlumens, and I know for a fact that lawyers of his calibre wear protective runes on their body to keep their clients' secrets. No one knows the exact nature of these runes, of course, but it is known that Walker, Stone & Finch are not just a law firm, but a coven. Weaving business and magic together so tightly makes for a unique protection, and offers many boons beside the obvious ones."

"Such as?" Harry asked, eyes wide. It sounded mysterious and exciting, and he found most law books dry as dirt!

Professor McGonagall's wan smile got a little more real. "Mixing business with magic often allows for a certain ... connection with their work. Like a seventh sense, the combined magic of a coven can give insight into the dealings a member is tasked with."

"I don't understand," Harry admitted. "Do you mean like Ollivander knows what wands his costumers need?"

"Oh, well spotted, Mr. Potter. Yes, Ollivander is so deeply entrenched in his work of matching magical materials and magical beings that he has developed a sort of instinct to help him do it more effectively." Professor McGonagall sat down on a chair and smoothed out her robes. "However, he works alone. With your lawyers, it's a bit different, because there's a whole pool of magic, specialized magic, to draw on. Before taking on a client, the coven's magic will reach out and collect information, for lack of a better word. It will tell them how likely it is to win the proposed case ... and if the client is even telling the truth."

"Yeah, not having all the facts would be a bummer," Harry said, frowning a little. "Just imagine being at a trial and being caught wrong-footed. Must be embarrassing as all hell. Sorry, Professor."

"Oh, it is," Professor McGonagall replied with an amused quirk of her lips. "I've always vastly preferred the structure - and anti-cheating charms - of my classroom. Speaking of which ... to give some credence to your hour with me, I've decided to give you a special project to work on. You have your group work, but I'd like for you to prepare another presentation for the Vanishing Spell. It's a bit advanced, but the cover does have to hold up to scrutiny, doesn't it?"

"Er, alright, Professor. Is it due next Monday as well?"

She nodded. "Yes. It doesn't have to be long, five minutes with the most important points should suffice. You'll get points, of course, and bonus points if you can give a demonstration. If not, I'll do it for the class. The point is not to humiliate you, but to show your peers that you're interested in extra work, and that obtaining extra credits is nothing to be afraid of."

"Okay." Harry stood and felt compelled to offer her a little bow. "Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it."

Professor McGonagall smiled, visibly touched.

"And also," Harry let his wand snick out of its holster, "Finite Incantatem!"

For a horrible moment, magic churned around her, Harry's spell demolishing that which had no business being hooked into Professor McGonagall's core.

"Good Lord," she panted when it was over. "You pack quite a punch, lad."

"Sorry, I cast in parseltongue." Harry scowled. "I'm really tired of casting on you every three days or so. Maybe this time it'll stick a bit longer."

Professor McGonagall touched a hand to her throat and swallowed audibly. "I daresay it will. I'll write to my friend immediately, although Mr. Finch was kind enough to free me of the headmaster's influence before our meeting."

"Oh. Uh, sorry then. Although ... Madam Bones was just here," Harry said. "Didn't she check?"

"She couldn't," Professor McGonagall replied. "She was here on official business, and we can't afford to have her caught in the headmaster's web." Some colour returned to her cheeks and she straightened her posture. "You noticed how I behaved yesterday ... it was subtle and I was strong enough to work against the magic, but if it had been layered onto the other spells, I'd have found a way to let the howlers and threats to the students vanish. I can only assume that Dumbledore didn't want to be caught red-handed with worse manipulations, if it came to that. It was a gamble which he thankfully lost."

"Can't you report him?" Harry asked. "Officially, I mean. He deserves it."

"Yes, he does. However, Dumbledore's position in society is such that my complaint wouldn't be believed outside of my closest circle of friends and confidants. It galls me to say this, but we have to tread carefully. There are more important things at stake than my mental and magical freedom."

"No," Harry disagreed. Fury welled up in him and made the tip of his wand spark sharply.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Harry." Professor McGonagall carefull placed her fingers onto Harry's fist and gently lowered the wand. "Your freedom, and that of your father, for one." She paused for a moment, the muscles in her jaw working. "To stand against He Who Must Not Be Named you'll need friends and loved ones by your side. After what your parents have sacrificed for our society, it's the least I can do."

"Professor-"

"You are a child," she went on firmly. "You deserve our protection and nurturing, just like any other child of our world. You deserve to know support, love, and happiness before that same society expects even more sacrifice of you. They did precious little in providing for you until now, and if me being spelled keeps you safe for a little while longer, that's a price I'm prepared to pay."

"But you shouldn't have to," Harry argued, growing angry.

"I have every trust in your ability to keep me alert," Professor McGonagall went on, resolute as she always was. "That makes our situation not as one-sided as you think, so please calm yourself. We must not let the headmaster see our upset."

"I wish we could just close our minds off." Harry finally put his wand away. "Or report him, if he decides to look." He scowled for a second longer, and then he smirked. "But I have the next best thing ready."

"Oh? Care to share?" she asked, intrigued.

"I'd better not," Harry said and stood. "Thanks again, Professor. I'll see you at dinner."

Fuming, he managed to leave the room without slamming the door after him, but that was the extent of his ability to keep his strop to himself. Knowing that he was in no shape to see anyone right now, he ducked into an empty classroom and called for Jules.

"Two things," he said tightly. "First, I need an elf who wants to deal with my mail. My lawyer just told me that there'll be lots of it in the future, and Gringotts would like some help sorting it."

"I will ask around at once," Jules promised.

"And then I need the elves on Dumbledore and Snape watch to invent ways to keep them from reading people's minds. Professor McGonagall and Hermione know too much by now, and it'll probably get worse." He huffed sharply. "It's easier to keep watch on two legilimenses than protect a dozen people from being mind-raided."

"Books on occlumency call it mind-rape," Jules supplied, twisting his fingers. "It is a very bad thing to do. Even worse if bad wizards are able to insert thoughts."

A bout of nausea crawled up in Harry's throat. "What?" he croaked. "A legilimens can plant thoughts?"

"Only the really strong ones," Jules squeaked and cringed a little. "Some do good work, healing witches and wizards of mental illness. Some do not."

"Is Dumbledore strong enough for it?" Harry asked, shaking with suppressed horror.

"Not quite." Jules hopped a little closer. "Old Whiskers only wishes he could."

"How does Fawkes stand it, being with him day in and day out?" Harry asked roughly. "Dumbledore told me that he's such a light creature ... how can he stay with someone like Dumbledore?"

Jules brightened a little. "Fiery Fawksy doesn't. He's often away at Potter's Field, eating golden fireflies and helping with burning away whomping willows."

"Oh!" Surprised, Harry blinked down at his small friend. "That's good! I wondered whether he'd have time for visits. But why can't you work with the land if Fawkes helps with the clearing?"

"Phoenix fire isn't destructive, Harry Potter sir," Jules explained. "First it burns, but then there is much regrowth."

"That's a pity, then," Harry said, slumping a little with disappointment. "Dobby was looking forward to cultivating the land next year."

"It will be a great garden one day," Jules hurried to say, patting Harry's leg in consolation. "The ashes are very fertile. Plants are thriving! They're just not the plants Harry Potter sir wants right now. But," and Jules' little chest puffed out, "all Potter elves have enough to eat, and lots of work will soon follow. We can sell plants and animal parts for cooking and potions to buy even more land, if Harry Potter sir wants it."

"Maybe don't kill the animals," Harry sighed. He rubbed his face with both hands. "Can you ... I don't know, ask nicely?"

"Potter elves can," Jules agreed readily. "Is there anything else I can help Harry Potter with?"

"I don't think so. Just take care, and don't let Dumbledore catch you."

"He won't," Jules promised and smiled shyly when Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Jules will go now and ask around for secretary. Good night, Harry Potter sir."

"Good night, Jules."

The elf popped away and Harry slowly made his way to the library, where the others of the Transfiguration group were already waiting.

"Malfoy's not coming," Parvati informed him as he sat down. "No idea how that'll affect our grade, but we've decided to just do our best."

"And inform the professor, of course," Ernie added. "It's better to be upfront with this kind of thing."

Harry merely shrugged. "Okay. Might be easier to do the work if he's not here to complain all the time, anyway. So, how are we going to do this?"

"I want to research the history part," Ernie said. "Parvati wants the practical uses, and Goyle asked to do a discussion of the pros and cons of using it."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

Goyle grunted and shuffled through his parchments.

"Seems like you have it all figured out ..." Harry continued. "What can I do to help?"

"Well, you're good with practice," Parvati said hesitantly. "We thought we'd share our findings with you, and you'd teach us how to cast the spell. Would that be alright?"

Harry nodded. "But if there's another group project, I want to do theory."

"That's a deal," Ernie said quickly. "We just thought that this would be the best way to go about it because we only have one week. It's not because we don't trust you with the theory or the presentation, or anything like that."

"That alright with you, Goyle?" Harry asked.

The large boy just shrugged. "Don't want to fail, is all," he muttered.

"You won't. We're not a bad team, even if we're from different houses," Parvati said decisively. "Let's get started."

Harry took his time taking the book out of his bag. While Ernie and Parvati pounced on their task, Goyle first fished a pair of glasses from the breat pocket of his robes and then consulted a piece of parchment.

"Do you need more books?" Harry asked when it became apparent that the boy had listed a handful of titles. "I can get them."

"You better look up how to do the spell," Goyle replied and lumbered off to the next index stand.

Shrugging, Harry opened the chapter in the book and read the instructions. The wand movement wasn't overly complicated, and the theory didn't seem that hard, either, after Professor McGonagall had helped him with his confidence for the Duro spell.

To give himself something to do, Harry listed the steps for the spell on a fresh piece of parchment and tucked it into the book for later, when he got around to practicing it.

"I'll take the next couple of days for practice," Harry told them on the way to the Great Hall for dinner. "I'll see you again on Thursday, so I can read over your notes. Friday through Sunday we can practice together."

"Sounds good," Ernie said at once. "Thanks, Harry." He nervously shifted the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder. "To be honest, I'm kind of thinking that Malfoy has the right of it. It does seem like a difficult spell."

"If Professor McGonagall says we can do it, I believe her," Parvati said. "Besides, it's interesting to do a project versus always quietly sitting in class and writing essays for homework. More social, in any case."

"Can't say I hate it so far," Harry admitted. He looked at Goyle, who was walking ahead, but not so far that he couldn't listen in on their talk. Apparently there was some Slytherin in him, even if he didn't seem overly bright at first glance. "Seems like we at least partially lucked out in the Slytherin department."

Ernie and Parvati exchanged glances and then shrugged.

"Yes, seems like it," Parvati said. "Malfoy's a useless git, but Goyle's doing his part, and his approach is something new."

"I wonder where he got the idea from," Ernie added.

Soon after they reached the Great Hall and went to find their friends, Goyle now two dozen yards ahead of them so as not to be associated with a pair of Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff. Harry couldn't find it in him to mind, not when both Zabini and Greengrass had made it clear how cutthroat Slytherin could be.

Dinner passed quietly, for once without offending comments from Ron, although Ginny did try to finagle solitary tutoring time with Hermione to get ahead of the other students in her Charms class. Her twin brothers quickly soured that idea for her and Hermione took the offered chance and absented herself quickly for an hour in the library before bed.

"Is it just me or is Ginny getting ambitious now?" Dean asked on the way to the tower. "Not that she wasn't before, but wow, cornering Hermione like that ... that takes some courage."

"I'm glad Hermione said no," Neville confessed. At the other boys' uncomprehending looks, he clarified, "Because she's a heiress now, and that stuff could be taken seriously by other peers. Like, a prelude to offering mentorship, had she agreed to it."

"Mentorship ... that's upper echelon business," Seamus said. "Me mum made me learn a little, in case it's ever being offered. She didn't want me to be too dense to recognize it because it's a huge boon."

"What does that mean, mentorship? It's not just help with homework, or is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, no, it's definitely not just that," Parvati chimed in. She pushed into place next to Harry, displacing Dean, who bore it with a sigh and an eye-roll. "Mentorship basically means taking a younger person, usually a student at school or university, under your wing. Homework and studies are part of it, but it's expected that the mentor also invests some money into the mentee's education and helps with their navigation through the mentor's social circles. Just half a century ago, a mentorship was like a tentative offer of sponsorship, if not an invitation to join a family. It's not all done through marriage, you see."

Harry was gobsmacked. "You had it right, Dean. If that's what Ginny's angling for, that's ... wow." He frowned. "It's really rude to try and badger someone into it when they can't say no without losing face."

Lavender frowned back. "It's beyond rude. Parvati and I will tell Hermione tonight, in case she doesn't know about it already. She could get in serious trouble socially if she unwittingly allowed someone to corner her like that, and well ... after she told everyone that her fortune was tied up for educational purposes, it was to be expected that people would come forward and try to get to the money another way."

Harry wanted to tell them that Ginny wasn't like that, but he caught himself just in time. I don't really know her all that well, he reminded himself, and she and Ron have behaved so strangely since school started ... not to mention Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's refusal to send Ginny to a doctor. And now this - yet another thing to do with money.

"Could this happen to anyone at school?" he asked instead. "Anyone with money, I mean."

"In theory," Parvati said quietly, furtively scanning their surroundings. "However, it usually concerns students who're already viewed as intellectuals or prodigies in one or more school subjects. Choosing a complete dumbass as your mentor would make it really apparent that you're only after their money and connections, and would likely harm your social standing."

"So I, er, don't have to worry?" Harry murmured, flushing a little.

"As if." Parvati snorted. "If I were you, I'd invest in good friendships to have a reliable buffer. You're not a doofus, and you're really good at spell casting. You could tutor others in that, and your family does have quite a bit of money. As for your connections ... with some effort on your part, you could become quite the influence both socially and politically. While your family isn't noble yet, it definitely is ancient, and only two or so generations away from reaching the noble status through years accumulated. It could happen sooner with, say, an Order of Merlin or a similar award. People take note of such things as well, so you'd better be prepared."

"What the hell, Parvati," Harry protested. "You still remember how people treated me last year, don't you? No way would I have any sort of influence!"

Dean had the grace to look ashamed. "I do remember, and I'm sorry. It was stupid to get so bent out of shape just because you can talk to snakes when all the post owls seem to understand us just fine."

"Me, too," Parvati sighed. "In India, we worship several serpent deities, and there are quite a few prominent parselmouths. I don't know what came over me; I'm not even afraid of snakes."

"We all went a bit crazy last year," Seamus admitted. "For what it's worth, I'll try not to let it happen again. Though I hope that there won't be another huge, ruddy snake to test me."

Neville said, "Even if there were, I'm with Harry." He smiled shyly. "And I'm not after a mentorship, I promise."

"Ugh," Harry groaned, burying his head in his folded arms. "I so don't need this."

Lavender laughed heartily about his disgust. "Better get used to it, Harry. You're not getting any younger. You think being fifteen is worrying? Just wait what the world is getting up to outside of marriage contracts. There's no real age restriction on that, merely social guidelines."

"Why don't I know anything about this stuff?" Harry demanded, looking up again. Seamus and Dean echoed his complaint. "Is that some sort of anti-mundane-born measure or something?"

"You know ..." Parvati began thoughtfully.

"That could well be," Lavender finished. "Since we're already talking to Hermione about this stuff anyway, we'll tell her which books to read, and to find more books about it besides. She'll sort it out quickly."

Dean raised his hand meekly. "Can I join that meeting?"

"And I?" Seamus said pitifully. "My mum tries, but this seems to be a huge deal."

"This stuff should be taught in the Etiquette class, but they dropped that two decades or so ago, unfortunately," Lavender said. "Yet another thing we can bring in the Herald." She turned to Neville. "Say, do you have books at home about this stuff? I'd like to present a reading list to our readers."

"I have one," Neville admitted. "It's the standard volumne, it's actualizing itself whenever something changes." He looked apologetic. "I think it's rather expensive."

"Doesn't matter," Lavender said immediately. "The most important thing is that people know where to look. I'm sure the Paper Club can come up with more. Parv, can you update our club calendar?"

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and uttered the password.

"Now, leave it all to us, Harry," Parvati said, already on the stairway leading to the dorms. "There's no need to panic."

Lavender smiled impishly. "Not yet, anyway. Night!"

When the girls were gone, Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Sometimes," he huffed dramatically, "being a wizard is really messing me up."

Neville patted him on the shoulder. "Welcome to our world."

oOo

Tuesday morning started an hour later than usual and was pure heaven in Harry's eyes. He and Hermione had time to do their exercises and have a relaxed breakfast afterwards. There was also time to practice the revealing spell, which Hermione was determined to master today, or at least this week.

"I'm so close, I can feel it," she grumbled after the latest failed attempt. "It just won't ... spark."

"I know what you mean," Harry agreed. "Your magic feels strong enough, so this is a little strange."

"Cast it on me again," Hermione requested, voice a little tight. "I need to know what the problem is."

"Okay ... denuda turpitudinem obscurum magicae!"

The magic burst forth from Harry's wand, enveloping Hermione in a bubble of bright light before dissolving swiftly. Only one spell remained; Madam Pomfrey's protection spell against sexual assault and pregnancy.

"That reminds me that I still have to get this," he said with a wry smile.

Hermione touched the writhing light of the spell. "You'd better do it soon. I'd much rather have nothing at all on me, but apparently it can't be helped." She shuddered. "I feel so helpless sometimes."

"Yeah, me too." Harry ended the spell and pulled Hermione into an embrace. "I might be wrong, but ... are you afraid of using the revealing spell?"

She laughed bitterly. "I'm more afraid of what it could find."

"Don't be." Harry hugged her so tightly that his arms strained against her ribs. Her answering grip was the perfect anchor in their sea of uncertainty. "Whatever you'll find will have already been there. You seeing it won't make a difference to the person that's been spelled. Unless you choose to do something about it, of course."

"I know. It's just so horrifying," Hermione whispered. "I don't know if I could bear seeing you under the influence."

"You can get help if you find something," Harry said, feeling strangely calm now. "If you can't end those spells yourself - and why shouldn't you, you're brilliant - you can still get help, and that's the most important thing, isn't it?"

"Who will I call?" she asked in a small voice. "Dobby?"

"Any Hogwarts elf will do," Harry said. "And I'll tell them who to call. Sharptooth would be good, he's vicious. And my lawyer of course. Madam Bones at the Ministry, just to see them all flip out."

Hermione gently loosened her strangling grip and stepped back. "Not Sirius Black? He would want to know."

"I know," Harry replied wearily. "But he's busy in Rome and I want him to get it over with without going back to prison for murdering someone. For real, this time, I mean." He grimaced. "He'd still find out, no matter what I do, but I still want to protect him. He's ... he's my dad. It'll probably be in the papers today."

"My god, Harry ... I had no idea."

Terrified that she'd begin to cry, Harry snagged her hands and held them tightly. "It's alright, he blood adopted me when I was a year old. I've got him back now, and he won't be reckless."

"I should hope not," Hermione said shakily. "Dumbledore will try to get you alone now. He must be getting desperate, if he's so invested in having you under his thumb."

"Probably. Professor McGonagall knows, and I always have a house elf with me now. Mr. Finch, that's my lawyer, has also filed a restraining order yesterday with the Ministry and the ICW. I had to sign it myself because Sirius is still a fugitive in the eye of Britain's law, but it's binding enough."

"Oh, thank god," Hermione muttered.

"I don't believe for a second that it'll be enough," Harry admitted. "Dumbledore should have gotten the writ delivered an hour ago or so and I'm very glad we weren't at breakfast. His disappointed grandfather stare would have probably smothered me."

"You mean his legilimency stare." Hermione paled and swallowed loudly. "I'll try the revealing spell again, in case the headmaster actually decides to do something reckless."

Harry ended his revealing spell on her and stepped away so she had room to cast. "We've got twenty minutes, I'm sure you can do it before we have to leave for Charms."

Decisively, Hermione swished and jabbed her wand, crying, "Denuda turpitudinem obscurum magica!"

And there it was, the bubble of her pooling magic. It swelled, pressing against Harry's pricked senses, until it suddenly burst and a bolt of bright light punched against him. The magic skittered all over him, zealously searching for hidden things leeching off his core.

"Oof," he complained, staggering back a little.

"I did it!" Hermione cried and nearly let her wand drop in surprise. "Shit, did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Just bowled over." He rubbed his chest and then sighed in relief when the light vanished. "Nothing. I'm still clean."

"I'm so happy." Hermione burst into sudden tears. "I was so afraid."

"It's alright. Come here." Having her back in his arms was so good; her agitated magic felt soothing against Harry's own churning and drifting power. "Let's do this again."

"Give me a minute," Hermione mumbled.

Harry gave her five, and then he gently coached her through another two attempts, both of which were successful and far less aggressive than her first.

oOo

Charms passed quickly enough, followed by a lively lunch, during which Harry's words about the papers publishing Sirius' status as his adopted father proved true. He and Hermione hadn't read their paper during their alone time, which had been by design, although now Harry wished that he'd had some sort of tangible forewarning, aside from Sirius' short note in their journal.

"I can't believe that you've got a murderer for a dad," Ron said, face alight with glee. "That's the best thing I've heard all year."

"Except he isn't a murderer," Lee Jordan said, stealing the platter of fried chicken before Ron could swap it with his empty plate. "Else he wouldn't have gone to Rome to prove his innocence. Would be an awful gamble to take just to tweak our collective noses."

"Don't bother with logic, our little brother's got a thick skull," Fred said, taking the platter when Lee was finished shovelling chicken onto his plate.

"Very thick," George agreed.

"I wonder how that's possible when he's so good at chess," Hermione muttered angrily. "Also, I think it's great that Harry actually has a living parent after all."

Ron's smug grin didn't lessen in the least. "He shouldn't get too attached, though. ICW trials are brutal. Having the goblins on his side won't do Black any good if the ICW thinks he did it."

Harry bit down on his suddenly rising fury, just as Hermione's eyes looked heavenward in a bid for patience.

"To be fair," Ginny interjected, "not even the ICW would dare doubt Gringotts' assessment without good cause. Black might well be free soon." She smiled encouragingly at Harry. "Also, they won't tarry over it. It might not happen for Christmas, but early next year seems likely."

"There'll be a judgement one way or another," Ron conceded. His eyes, however, were still glinting a little meanly.

Herbology after lunch took place in a greenhouse and allowed students to partner up to deal with their plants. Harry managed to pick Neville, and they spent the whole class thinking up things for their godbrother ceremony.

"Having it here would be nice," Neville sighed. "Too bad Madam Sprout probably won't allow it. The plants are too valuable to risk."

"Why don't I ask my house elf friends about that?" Harry murmured. "Maybe they can build a temporary winter garden or something, and bring some plants for decoration."

"Would that work with the party the girls are planning?" Neville asked.

"Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati teamed up. They'll definitely make it happen," Harry answered, unconcerned. "Together with the elves, it should work out just fine."

"In that case, sure. Thanks, Harry!"

Harry smiled. "Your idea is loads better than the utter nothing I had."

"Uhm, now that that's out of the way, we should probably get on writing the invitations," Neville said. He gently grasped the squirming baby fern they were potting and placed it into the hole in the soil Harry had prepared. "We only have two more weeks."

"You got your list?" Harry shovelled soil around the roots of the fern and made a satisfied sound. "Mine is ready, but if you could look it over ... I don't want to cause a national incident by accident."

Neville laughed quietly. "Of course. Let's meet toworrow after school's out?"

Reassured that things were progressing nicely, they left Madam Sprout's class and headed to DADA, where Professor Lupin was already waiting for them.

"Since we're having the Patronus Club on the same day as one of our two periods per week, I've decided to dedicate this class to theory so you'll still have some enthusiasm left for the club," Lupin said after he'd taken roll.

Malfoy raised his hand and drawled, "Professor, is the club even needed if Black's in Rome? The Ministry will call the dementors off any day now, won't they?"

The whole class swivelled back towards Lupin expectantly.

Lupin vaguely lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "We can't be certain that the Ministry will act with haste in this matter, I'm afraid. Right now, the dementors are still stationed around the school, and Quidditch practice is still suspended to protect the players from their influence. I, and indeed the whole faculty, would feel infinitely better if you do not quit for the time being."

"None of us will be able to cast that spell if even the seventh years are struggling," Malfoy persisted. Scowling at Harry, he added, "And Potter doesn't count."

Professor Lupin calmly leaned against his desk and said, "Some of you are already able to produce a mist, which is very good for such young witches and wizards. Even managing that much could buy you precious seconds to run away, or call for help. Besides that," and he smiled slowly, "being able to cast the Patronus Charm would earn you a significant amount of extra points in the practical portion of your OWL test. Now, please open your books on page 115 and get some parchment ready for notes. Our topic today is the kelpie, a man-eating water spirit native to Britain's streams and lakes ..."

Harry studiously wrote his notes, telling himself that he wasn't avoiding his classmates' sneaky looks. Not exactly, anyway, he sighed to himself. All this talk about mentorship is making me paranoid.

To cool off, Harry fled to an unused classroom immediately afterwards and took out his Transfiguration textbook and his notes on the Switching Spell. He only had two days to learn the spell and find out how to teach it effectively to the others of his group.

"But what to switch?" he wondered. He looked around but only found a lone piece of chalk under one of the dusty benches. "I guess my old quill will have to do. Sorry, quill." Harry set the chalk and the slightly ragged looking quill next to each other onto the nearest table. "But first the wand movements and incantation ..."

He let his holly wand shoot from his wand holster, catching it easily, and took a deep breath. Half a dozen times he practiced the wand movements, before he felt ready to speak the words.

"Haec obiecti avertas," Harry murmured. Already there was warmth tingling in his fingers. He smiled, surprised. "Alright. Haec obiecti avertas."

The tingling grew a little stronger, and with it Harry's confidence. He spoke the words another couple of times, just to make sure he got them right, and then he dared raise the wand and cast the spell at the far away wall of the room.

"Haec obiecti avertas!" he called.

White light shot from his wand and crashed into the wall with a dull hiss. Right after, several of the bricks blurred and a dry, crunching sound assaulted Harry's ears.

"What the ..." Cursing, Harry ran over and looked at the displaced bricks. The mortar around them had broken, and the whole wall was looking decidedly less stable than before. "Shite." Harry felt the colour drain from his face. His hands schook as he babbled, "Uh, finite incantatem!"

The bricks grudgingly switched back, but the damage remained, making Harry feel like a complete idiot. Now he knew why Professor McGonagall had insisted on having a ghost supervise their practice. "Damn it. Er, Romy? Do you have a minute, please?"

The elf appeared promptly, her hands dusty with flour, and stared at the compromised wall. "What has Master Slytherin done now?" she asked with a little tut.

"I didn't know this would happen," Harry said, feeling quite miserable under her judgemental stare. "It was my first attempt at the Switching Spell. I'm sorry. I'll repair it, but I need help because I don't know how. Can you please help me?"

"Romy can do it," she said, "but Master Slytherin better not practice on Hoggywarty's walls anymore. Master Slytherin be rather too powerful for it." She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. "Hoggywarty be having feelings. Elves not be liking it if Hoggywarty be hurt."

"Oh god, really?" Panicking, Harry put a hand to the cool stone. "I'm really sorry, Hogwarts. Please forgive me."

"It not be on purpose," Romy consoled him. She snapped her little fingers and the wall was once more whole. "Switching Spell should only be used on loose objects. Walls be very bad for it, if they not already be broken."

"Yes, I get that now." Blowing out a huge breath, Harry leaned his head against a brick. "I feel really stupid."

"Master Slytherin be knowing better, now." Romy cocked her head. "Romy be making apple turnovers. Romy be bringing some for Master Slytherin, with extra elf berries in the filling."

"Do I really deserve that, after being so dumb?" Harry sighed. He patted the wall again in apology.

"Hoggywarty not be angry," Romy squeaked. "But Master Slytherin be needing nourishment after doing much magic."

She popped away and Harry trudged back to the table with his two objects. "I guess I'd better practice with you now. Please don't blow up."

He still needed a moment to collect himself and try again. To his chagrin, but definitely not to his surprise, the chalk and quill only became fuzzy for a moment before settling back into their original forms.

"I had a scare," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean I don't have the magic to do this spell. Professor McGonagall said all I have to do is believe." Harry huffed a little. "Only now I have to believe in myself."

Which was, in all honesty, much harder than believing in magic; Harry didn't need Healer Williams insight to know that he had to thank the Dursleys for that. And yet there was that warmth inside of him, that little flame that had carried him through Dudley's mean temper tantrums, and his aunt and uncle's unfair treatment. Even before Hogwarts Harry had known that he could be good at school, if only he were allowed to show it. Heck, he was good at many things, including cooking, and cleaning, and gardening.

"I can do this," he told himself again. "You won't blow your stuff up. Come on." After another deep breath, Harry quietly said, "Haec obiecti avertas."

A much softer shot of white light left the tip of his wand and enveloped the piece of chalk and the quill. Again their edges blurred, this time for a longer moment, before snapping back to their sharp outlines.

"Better," Harry said with satisfaction.

He tried half a dozen times more, his voice quiet, almost a murmur, and his wand movements small. Sometime around quarter past five, a tray with tea and two hot, fragrant apple turnovers appeared on the table next to his.

"Thanks, Romy," Harry said softly.

The turnovers were delicious and went so well with the tea that Harry ate all of it, heedless of the dinner that was to follow in little more than an hour.

Once his treat was gone, Harry decided to leave the Switching Spell alone and get a start on the Vanishing Spell. He began with reading the instructions and taking notes on that, moving on to the particulars afterwards to give himself a soft ending to his study period.

He still had half an hour before dinner would start, and so he asked Betty to pop him to the Come and Go Room for some rest, and maybe some conversation with Healer Williams. It had only been two days and he was already missing the snakelings fiercely.

oOo

Harry's Wednesday started as well as could be expected after two satisfying Floo calls the night before. Talking to the four snakelings had been relaxing in a way Harry could hardly explain, even to himself, even if the golden female seemed much more invested in Brady now, barely moving from her perch around his neck. If anything, Harry was happy for the healer, since he'd been taken with the little death adders from the start.

The other talk had indeed been with Sirius, and while they had discussed the public revelation about their status as parent and child for a bit, the far more interesting information had been the tutor Harry would be getting for History, and that he man would start immediately. Unlike Tuva, however, that tutor had made it clear that he wouldn't be accepting other students, preferring to deal solely with Harry's education.

Harry felt both relieved and a little resentful, mostly because he had made good use of the free periods during Friday afternoons and would have to adjust a bit to deal with his Gringotts correspondence.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked during breakfast. "You're so quiet."

"Nothing, I'm just going to meet my new History tutor later. I have no idea what to expect, so ..."

"You'll be fine," she said encouragingly. "And just think about how good your classes will be. Do you think you'll go on field trips?"

"I'll find out, I guess." Harry poked at his sauteed mushrooms. "I'm sorry I can't invite you along this time. Sirius said it's an exclusive contract."

"That's alright, it's your tutor," Hermione murmured. "By the way, there's been no response to my reducing the Hogwarts tuition. Have you heard anything about it yet?"

"No, sorry," Harry replied. "Maybe the teachers don't want to rock the boat?"

"It's been several weeks now," she argued. "That sort of fraud demands a reaction. I'll contact Gringotts later, see what they have to say about it, and whether they want to involve the aurors."

"You have a tutor for History?" Ginny asked, artlessly inserting herself into the conversation. "I'm so envious. Binns is so hung up on the goblin rebellions, it's ridiculous."

"As I said, I can't invite anyone," Harry said shortly.

"Oh, I got that. But maybe you could let me, everyone, really, know what books he'll have you read? Maybe give out your assignments, so we'll know what to focus on?"

Before Harry could reply, Lavender rounded on her. "It's crass to ask for favours, Weasley. Your classes are not Harry's concern. If you want work sheets and assignments, get them yourself from other schools, or via the international school committee."

"But it's unfair that we have to suffer Binns' boring lectures, and Harry's right here. It's stupid to send international owl post and pay for stuff when he can just make copies for us," Ginny argued, earning herself a few hesitant nods from the people around them.

"He's not going to sponsor you, or anyone else, just because you feel entitled to his things," Parvati said plainly. So plainly, in fact, that several of the older years were sucking in their breaths and staring. "If you want to have a better teacher, do someting to get Binns fired. You know, like we're already doing."

Ginny's freckled face turned a hot shade of red. "It's not like that. I'm just fed up. We're all fed up. And you can dislike Ron all you want, but he's right. No one has gotten Binns fired so far, and I don't see how we could achieve that feat." She turned her beseeching eyes back to Harry. "It's just a few copies, Harry. It's for all of us. Please help us out."

Lavender shook her head and Hermione's grip on Harry's knee was tight.

"Sorry," Harry said stiffly. "The contract is exclusive. It'd be better if you looked elsewhere."

"But Harry!"

"Leave it be, Ginny," Parvati snapped. "He's not going to drag you along, and it's not his problem in any case. Have your parents send a complaint, like we all did."

"You're turning into a stuck up git, Harry," Ginny said accusingly, completely disregarding Parvati. "We're your friends, aren't we?"

"Oh, that's a low blow, Weasley," Angelina Johnson said as she munched on her toast. "You won't be friends much longer if you insist on mooching off the poor guy."

"Yeah, it's a little pathetic," Seamus said unapologetically.

Thankfully the bell rang for class, causing everyone to get up from their seats. Harry stuck close to Hermione and allowed her to steer him through his morning. She didn't have to say anything - it was clear to them both that Ginny had indeed started a new campaign to better her position.

Harry's lunch was cut short by a quarter hour when a house elf appeared by the table to lead Harry to his new History classroom, where Professor McGonagall and a slender man in his thirties awaited him.

"I apologize for asking you here before lunch was over," Professor McGonagall said. She nodded towards her companion. "This gentleman is Harmon Irvine, your tutor for History of Magic. I trust that your father has informed you that he'd be arriving today?"

"He did, Professor." Harry offered his hand for a shake. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Irvine."

"Likewise, Mr. Potter." Irvine presented a roll of parchment. "My employment contract, signed by Lord Black and countersigned by Gringotts, for your inspection and approval."

Knowing better than to wave away that proof of identity, Harry took the parchment and read it through. He took note of the strict clauses and the written form of the vows Irvine had given, but he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he had with Healer Williams' contract.

"Thank you, sir, I approve," Harry said and handed the glowing contract back. "I'm looking forward to our classes ... and the field trips Sirius has approved. Which is pretty awesome, so thanks for thinking of them."

Pleased, Irvine inclined his head even as Professor McGonagall harrumphed.

"Don't you tease your friends with those excursions, Mr. Potter," she warned. "And please try to convince your friends to leave the matter of the complaints against Professor Binns to me. It might not seem like it, but I'm working on it."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully. "We were just talking about it before I came here. Some people are, er, worried about their tuition."

"Yes, really, and it's understandable that they are concerned. As I said, it's all well in hand." She sternly looked at Harry for a moment longer and then took her leave to teach her own class.

Irvine went to the teacher's desk and pointed at the table right across from it. "Since it's just the two of us, you may sit here. I've already reviewed what you've learned so far. Frankly, I'm appalled at the quality of the teaching at Hogwarts and I'd prefer it if you simply forgot the nonsense that ghost has been spewing. It's far easier to start over and do it right than try to correct it."

"I can't say I hate the thought," Harry admitted. "Er, can I keep the textbook, or do I have to get a new one? And, er, will I be able to take the OWL on time?"

"You can keep it," Irvine said, "but you'll need several supplemental texts, as well as some work journals to get up to speed. The international OWL is nothing to sneeze at. I already gave the list to your father, he'll take care of it. Now, why don't we begin your tutoring by outlining what you'll need to learn to sit your OWLS. There are several mandatory topics; however, as you'll be excused from the exams, we can map out our own timeline during which we'll cover the relevant material."

"I'm looking forward to it. Before I came to Hogwarts, I had already read half of my History book. Magic and the people were so fascinating in it. Compared to that, class with Binns was a huge disappointment," Harry admitted.

"Never fear, my tutoring will be demanding and you'll have a lot of work to do to catch up, but I promise that it'll be anything but boring," Irvine said. He took off his robes and rolled up the sleeves of his starched shirt. "Now, let's pin all our topics to the board here. They'll be a visual reminder of all we have to study, and once a topic is exhausted, you'll get to mark it as done."

One after another, Harry and Irvine pinned something like large playing cards to the pin board. Irvine readily named all the depicted events and people, his knowledge effortlessly teased at but never overwhelming. Next to Merlin and Arthur and several other famous witches and wizards of Britain there were also themes from mundane history, and many historic events from all over the world.

"Britain may be an island," Irvine said after they were done and Harry was looking at all the colourful pictures in quiet fascination, "but people would do well to remember that it is still part of the world, and that events in Sumatra or South America have impacted British history just as much as events here have impacted other countries and peoples. You're just beginning to look at that rich tapestry of human development, but soon you'll discover the many connections that have shaped the world into what it is today."

"I can't wait," Harry said honestly, finally tearing his gaze away from a dark-skinned witch in colourful but skimpy clothing and a large albino snake around her shoulders that was dancing through a dying fire. "Where do we start?"

Irvine smiled broadly as he clapped his hands. "Why, at the beginning, of course."

oOo

Harry's mind was still busy with his History class and the homework assignment Professor Vectra had handed out when he met Neville for their walk around the grounds.

"We can wait until tomorrow if you've got other things on your mind," Neville offered generously. "One day won't hurt us."

"Nah, it's alright. Mr. Irvine is just so ... interesting." Harry shrugged helplessly. "I just wish I didn't have to forget two whole years of history; Mr. Irvine said that this waste of our time is bordering on criminal."

"Well, it is criminal, if Binns' subpar teaching costs every student a thousand galleons a year, give or take." Neville pointed to a fallen tree. "Should we sit down to compare our guest lists?"

They both got their lists out and started a fresh master list with every name they had both put down. Most of them were mutual friends and acquaintances, with Harry petitioning for Zabini's inclusion and Neville for the admittance of several older Hufflepuffs Harry didn't know well, but who were friendly with Neville due to a mutual liking for Herbology. The one thing Harry didn't think he could tolerate was Albus Dumbledore on Neville's list.

"I completely understand," Neville said, grimacing slightly. "In truth, I don't want him there either, but that's where it gets a little political. We could just not invite any of the professors and be done with it ..."

"But that'd feel wrong," Harry sighed. "Except for Dumbledore and Snape, they're all decent, and I liked talking to them at Hermione's birthday party."

"Yes, just so. Fact is that Dumbledore is an exceedingly powerful figure in our country. Snubbing him would send a signal," Neville said carefully. "Just like snubbing everyone else because of him would send a signal."

"Why, though? We agreed to keep it private," Harry countered with a frown.

"And it would be, as far as unwanted guests are concerned. However, our ritual is magically binding, and a public record would be crafted within the Ministry, with a list of all the witnesses. It's just something magic does, we can't influence it. Therefore, if the whole faculty but Dumbledore were invited and attending, there would be questions," Neville explained. "There are always people questioning things. You know this better than I do, unfortunately."

"And I hate it," Harry grumbled. "Fine, Dumbledore can come if he must. Though I guess we'll have to address our invitation to the faculty as a whole, instead of individual invites."

A sly grin crept onto Neville's lips. "That's where we can get petty. It won't be public record how we invite our guests, just who was invited and in attendance. Sending Dumbledore and Snape a form letter and everyone else a nice, hand-written card ... well, that should tell him clearly enough that he's not really wanted."

"That's brilliant," Harry said, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "We'll do it."

"Too bad your dad can't come," Neville offered.

"And your parents," Harry replied quietly. "But we'll have pictures, and we can tell them all about it afterwards. I'd honestly also like to invite my Gringotts manager, because he was really helpful this summer, but, well. I don't need people asking questions." A thought crossed his mind then, and he asked, "Hey, do you think ... do you think that Dumbledore will try to keep us from doing this, if he comes? Can he?"

"Not without coming across like a huge prick, if you'll pardon the language." Neville sounded very sure of that. "It's family business and he has no right to interfere. Especially since your dad is out in public now, and everyone knows that Dumbledore's not your real magical guardian."

"Okay, but what if the headmaster still tries to stop us?" Harry insisted. "Your grandma really cut him to the quick, he might not want her to have even more power over him as my kin."

At that, Neville broke out into genuine laughter. "Can you imagine, though? She'd just put him in his place again."

"Oh, right. That's probably true. Godbrother bonding and a show. It has a certain ring to it." Harry relaxed a little. "What about the ghosts? Do they count as faculty?"

"Yes, probably. Let's exclude Peeves, though, he really doesn't deserve an invitation."

"Definitely not," Harry agreed quickly. "How about the house elves? They're already helping, and they're really always good to us."

"True, but there are a lot of elves at Hogwarts," Neville mused. "We'd need extra food just for them, and a bigger winter garden."

"They're good in small spaces, and making the winter garden bigger shouldn't be a problem," Harry reminded him. "Let's ask Romy, she'll know what we'll need to make it happen."

Neville, ever kind, promptly agreed and they called the elf for a conversation.

To say that Romy was thrilled to have her clan included, and to have their elf needs considered to actually make it a party, was too tame a word. Always the one to exude calm and poise, at least for a house elf, she did her best to emulate Dobby at his most emotional and dissolved into happy tears, eagerly hugging both boys before promising that she and her kin would make everything they needed for their party happen.

"Talk to Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati," Neville told her, holding the small elf's vibrating form so she wouldn't unintentionally pop off. "They're already helping us plan for the human stuff. Who knows how far they've come already."

"Romy will, kind Neville Longbottom sir," Romy blubbered, eyes nearly glowing with excitement. "Romy be so happy! Romy be going right now."

With that, she popped right out of Neville's grip, leaving the two boys grinning at each other.

"I love those guys to pieces," Harry confessed. "They're awesome."

"They really are," Neville agreed. "And their happiness is catching, can you feel it?"

"Always." Harry lowered his voice. "I don't understand how magicals can mistreat them so, when it can be like this." He raised his hand, basking in the tingling feeling of rushing magic and something akin to euphoria under his skin. "People are stupid."

They both enjoyed the glow for a few more moments, and when the clarity returned, Neville reluctantly said, "That's everyone accounted for, then, right? Now we just need to find a good place for the winter garden and leave the rest to the girls and the house elves."

"If you've got a place figured out, I'm game," Harry told him. "All I care about is that everyone who wants to come can find it easily, and that it's got a good energy for our ritual."

"Actually, I do have a spot. I can show you?" Neville offered shyly.

"Sure, come on. We still have half an hour or so until lunch."

Harry contentedly followed Neville to a spot quite close to the Forbidden Forest. Lots of autumn flowers were still in bloom on the meadow, the Black Lake well visible from there, and Hogwarts towering over the grounds at the side like a huge, benevolent sentry.

"It's perfect," Harry said, turning around himself once and inhaling the tangy autumn air. "Let's show this to Romy so she can get started on setting things up."

As if she'd been listening in, Romy appeared for all of a second before vanishing again, leaving the boys chuckling about her enjoyment of the whole thing.

Since things were effectively out of their hands for now, they slowly trekked back to the castle. Neville offered to have the invitations printed, if Harry agreed to fill in the names of the guests by hand, which he readily did.

"Wednesdays are always so short," Harry groaned when they were back in the castle. "I need to practice my spells for Transfiguration and I haven't gotten anything done today."

"There's a bit time after dinner," Neville said. "It's not great, but we could practice together, if you like."

"Yes, fantastic. Thanks!"

Since they had Astronomy later that night, they didn't bother climbing up to Gryffindor Tower to drop their book bags and instead found one of the classrooms Professor McGonagall had designated for their practice. As soon as they had closed the door, the Bloody Baron appeared, face as grim as ever, and the silvery blood stains on his robes nearly vibrant in the dim torch light.

"Thanks for keeping watch, sir," Neville said politely.

The Bloody Baron said nothing.

"What spell did you get?" Harry asked, placing his notes on the desk before him.

"The Draconifors Spell," Neville sighed. "It's hard, and it isn't even especially useful."

"Why not?" Harry wondered. "Dragons are fierce, aren't they?"

"Not transfigured dragons," Neville said. "They're small, and if you've done shoddy work, they can't even breathe fire or fly."

"Well, then you simply won't do shoddy work," Harry said. "Just imagine, your very own pet dragon! How cool would that be?"

"How's the Switching Spell coming along?" Neville asked, eager to drop the subject. "And Malfoy? He still not helping?"

"What do you think?" Harry asked with an eye-roll. "Parvati's complained to Professor McGonagall so he can't show up later and just demand a portion of their work to present."

"Can you show me?" Neville abandoned his textbook and stepped up to Harry's desk. "Here, you can have a knut to switch."

Harry placed his old quill next to the knut and let his wand slip into his right hand. "It's coming along, but I have no idea how to actually teach the spell. But, this is the wand movement ..." He demonstrated a couple of times. Then he called, "Haec obiecti avertas!"

The spell erupted from Harry's wand and engulfed both the knut and the quill eagerly. Unlike yesterday, their outlines blurred rapidly until both objects were little more than dark mist, and when the light dissipated, the knut and the quill had changed places.

"Wow!" Neville exclaimed. He took up the quill-turned-knut and inspected it. "Looks real to me."

"According to the book it's the real thing," Harry explained. "Although I'd be sceptical, even if the spell is supposed to be permantent." He grinned wryly. "I'll replace your knut and ask my manager at Gringotts whether it really is a knut."

"Should be interesting," Neville agreed, grinning back. "I want to try. Can you show me the wand movement again? And what was the incantation? Heck objectis avertis?"

They worked until dinner was well underway and hurried back to the classroom when it was over. Hermione, who was in the same group as Neville, joined them eagerly, and it was under her patient tutelage that at least Harry managed to transform an old chair into a sufficiently recognizable dragon before they had to run up to the Astronomy tower, with Neville being reassured that he'd be able to do it as soon as he had his new wand.

oOo

Thursday was almost as full a day as Wednesday had been, but Harry was glad about it. Dumbledore had received quite a few letters during breakfast, almost none of which to his taste it seemed, and Snape had glowered at Harry during all of lunch. Tuva's smug presence next to him at the head table clearly didn't help and Harry had rarely been more glad to get that piece of Voldemort out of his head than now. Snape's hatred of him might have dropped him otherwise.

After class, Harry spent another half hour practicing the Switching Spell and then went to find the others of his Transfiguration group to go over the material they had collected.

It turned out that being the first person to watch their presentation was something of a dubious honour. Harry was able to ask a lot of questions that enabled the others to refine their parts, but he was also in the unenviable position to deal out some well-meaning criticism.

"I'm sorry, this went on longer than we thought," Ernie said as they finally walked to a classroom for the practical part. Another group was already occupying a corner, with the Fat Friar watching attentively. "Will the spell be very hard to do?"

"Nah," Harry said, and it was true. As long as none of the others experienced the stupidity and ensuing self-doubt he had brought upon himself, the spell was indeed very doable. "You'll do just fine."

"Even me?" Goyle muttered, raising his chin a little defiantly.

"Why not?" Harry gestured the large boy over to the table he had chosen and told him to draw his wand. "I think we know now that you're not actually dumb. Also, you do okay in class. Let's take my knut and Parvati's hair tie to switch around ... Now look, it's easy: wave, swish, loop, and flick. And now you."

Goyle hesitantly mimicked the wand movement, and did it as often as Harry demonstrated. After the third time, Parvati and Ernie joined in. They all knew the incantation already, but for safety's sake Harry decided to let them go one after the other.

Parvati went first and very nearly managed on her first try.

"Did you see that?" she squealed. "I almost had it! Can I try again?"

The boys let her and celebrated with her when the switch actually happened on her second try. Ernie was so excited that he begged to go next, and while he needed a few more attempts, it didn't take long at all for him to master the spell.

Finally it was Goyle's turn, and Harry said, "See, that wasn't hard at all. Malfoy is just a big coward."

Goyle scrunched up his nose. "He'll be trouble."

"Isn't he always?" Parvati said carelessly. "Now stop prevaricating, we're determined to have all of us managing the spell tonight."

"You know how it's done," Harry encouraged him, demonstrating with his finger. "Wave, swish, loop, and flick. Haec obiecti avertas."

Goyle copied the movements with his wand the second time around, mumbling the spell. The objects on their table became fuzzy around the edges, but didn't change. "See, I'm bad at this."

"It didn't work because you mumbled," Parvati told him and Ernie nodded. "Again."

"I don't mumble." Huffing, Goyle tried again, this time a bit more energetically.

"Yes, you do. And you hold your wand too stiffly, even I can see that. It's a slim stick, not a beater's baton." She boldly tapped his hand with her wand to get him to losen up. "Try now."

Goyle tried again and again, all the while letting Parvati rib him. It didn't take long for good-natured Ernie to join the fray, and even Harry couldn't resist after Goyle took notable care not to fall back on mean insults.

"It's been half an hour," Goyle finally declared. "I'm done for tonight."

"Hm." Harry exchanged a look with Parvati and Ernie and grinned. "Fine. Although I didn't think you were actually afraid of me, Goyle."

"Excuse me?" The boy's face held such a flabbergasted look that Parvati couldn't help her giggle. "I'm not afraid of you, Potter. Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because Malfoy calls me Perfect Potter, and that smacks of insecurity?" Harry nearly laughed about Goyle's goldfish impression. "Well, he's not wrong, obviously, since I did manage to teach the other two the spell, but you must be seriously afraid to fail."

Goyle's jaw dropped even further.

"You broke him. He's definitely afraid," Ernie teased.

"Poor Goyle, hung up on Malfoy's dumb hearsay," Parvati laughed. She wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders and squeezed him slightly. "We're not afraid of him, and look! We can do our spell. It was no problem at all."

"That's ridiculous," Goyle finally managed to grind out. "There's absolutely no correlation."

"But can you afford to believe that?" Ernie asked, looking faux-concerned. "We only got three more nights to help you get it right. It might take longer if you need to get you over your fear of Harry, so-"

"I'm not afraid of Potter!" Goyle cried, cheeks aflame in a ruddy flush of temper.

"Mmh, I'm not convinced," Harry taunted. "Why don't you prove it?"

Snarling, Goyle whipped his wand around and barked, "Haec obiecti avertas!" at the knut and the hair tie.

With a sharp snap the objects switched places, and Goyle's amazed expression stayed on his face all the way through dinner.

oOo

On Friday, after yet another gripping History class, Harry spent his free period in the Come and Go Room going over his journals. Sharptooth had nothing for him to deal with, merely a report about the snakelings (as entertaining and demanding as ever), and about a first guest visiting the guest house in France, a magical painter of some renown. The house elves' hopes were high that he'd enjoy his stay and recommend their service to others because there were bored with only one wizard to pamper and spoil.

There is, however, the matter of your mail, Sharptooth closed the entry in their journal. The vault I designated for your post is already overflowing. Your father's impending trial in Rome has the world in an uproar, and people are very interested in his circumstances as a result. Since he's doing all of this for you, well. Let's just say that your entanglement with Tom Riddle is once more a topic of speculation. Your lawyers will send form letters in reply and only involve you if the content of a missive warrants it. Do not worry that this will impact your schooling in any way.

It also falls to me to inform you that a letter from Mr. Finch was scheduled to reach you on Tuesday. Since he hasn't received an answer yet, he'll report the mail theft to Madam Bones. I think we both know who is responsible, so brace yourself for unreasonable demands upon your time. Stay strong and refuse any and all meetings without your legal representation. There's nothing, nothing at all, that Dumbledore can threaten you with.

Keep your claws sharp and your foes crushed beneath your feet,

Sharptooth

Steward to the Potter Family

Senior Account Manager

"Huh, Dumbledore actually did that," Harry said, closing the journal. For a moment, he stared at it, not sure whether he was even surprised or not. "Seems like things will get interesting now."

End of part 15