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]

18. Chapter 18

Happy belated New Year to you!

There you have it, a kind of 'in-the-middle' chapter. It took ages to write and I don't know how I feel about it yet, but eh. The story progresses, which is my most important directive. :)

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Dobby's Deceit

Part 18

Now that the godbrother ceremoy was behind him, Harry finally found the time to return to his many other projects - and to take care of Goldie and her quiet brother, who had appeared in his bed sometime through the night and immediately wound around him for warmth. Blue and Sweetie had made room for them with nary a hiss, and the feeling of completeness with them there had been astonishing.

"Harry sleep," Goldie told him imperiously. "Beautiful Brady told us to watch over you, and we will. Harry is still growing, you need rest."

The quiet brother flicked his tongue out. "Harry is still weak from stupid rude boy's attack."

"Not much longer," Goldie hissed.

"Sleep now," Blue ordered, poking his head out of Harry's pyjama collar and staring at his siblings. "You are too loud."

Harry grinned as the little snakes all burrowed under his clothes. The goblins' protective magic tickled against Harry's skin. He hadn't noticed before, but now it stood out against human magic, almost like a visible finger print.

While his little bed mates quickly slumbered off, Harry's thoughts wouldn't quit running. Everything was touched on at least briefly: getting Slytherin's library translated, the burning need to cut Tom Riddle out of the Slytherin family, learning and teaching defence spells to Hermione and Neville and whoever of his friends was willing, keeping an eye out for Ron and Ginny, manage his money and estates, and staying on top of his school work, nevermind staying out of Dumbledore and the Ministry's way. Smaller projects like finding magical reptiles to try out his parselmouth abilities or finally getting Potter's Field ready for planting seemed less pressing, but they were still there, scratching at his conscience.

A quiet pop tore Harry away from his musings.

"Hey Dobby," he murmured. "What's up?"

"Harry Potter sir not be able to sleep," Dobby squeaked. "Dobby be wondering whether Harry Potter sir be wanting to dream-walk his hotel in France tonight."

"That'd be great," Harry admitted. "I've got so little time to appreciate what you and the others are doing for me. I'm sure your guest loves it a lot there. But say ... could you maybe visit Sirius in Rome sometime? I'd like to see where he lives, and how the goblins are treating him."

"Dobby can," the house elf agreed. "Dobby be doing that soon!"

Harry smiled at him and reached out a hand, which Dobby quickly took and held. "Thank you. I know I'm asking this a lot, but are you okay? We don't see each other as much, now that so many other elves are around me. I don't want you to think that I'm forgetting about you."

"Dobby be knowing that," Dobby replied earnestly. "All elves be knowing that Harry Potter sir be caring about them. Dobby be happy! And Dobby be looking for more security elves, just like Ninja. It not be easy, but we be finding some eventually."

"If anyone can, it's you." Harry yawned. "The others still need things to do, don't they? I know they're trying to get busy following Hermione and I around, but most of the time that's got to be super boring."

"It not be very interesting," Dobby admitted, "but it be important. Still, if Harry Potter sir be having more ideas for jobs, Harry Potter sir's house elves be happy to know."

Harry thought back to Hermione's thoughtful face a couple of days back, when Lavender had lamented her family's lack of household help. He was sure that his girlfriend had something to say about that, and he was looking forward to finding out.

But first there was his guesthouse in France to visit, and almost nine hours of sleep to help his body recover the last few bits of its lost magic.

oOo

It turned out that Harry didn't even have to bring up the matter of house elves; as soon as Hermione had sat down to breakfast and thanked Betty for the work that had gone into the lovely food, she asked the elf to stay and nearly vibrated in her chair with excitement.

"I know how to get your house elves some exercise," she blurted, and Betty let out an involuntary squeak of delight. "You need to create a business that rents out house elf services!"

Harry smiled. "I thought it'd be something like that."

"You did?" Hermione asked, a little wide-eyed. "And?"

Betty's large eyes stared unblinkingly at Harry, as well.

"It's a fantastic idea, actually."

"Yes!" Betty squeaked, ears and little clasped hands trembling.

"But," Harry cautioned them, "I have no earthly idea how to pull that off. I actually thought there'd be something like this already, but nope, apparently not. Sharptooth will have to do the heavy lifting, and I guess there'll be contracts involved about what my house elves can and cannot do, and how quickly. What can I charge if a snap of the fingers or two straightens up a whole house? I mean, we'd need a lot of clients to give the elves something worthwhile to do, and the clients would need to trust me enough with their secrets."

"Your name would be a huge draw," Hermione said, not deterred in the least. "Plus, your elves seem to have enough free time to take on at least a hundred clients, and they could clean houses as well as help with gardens, right? That's two super important areas. And you could loan them out to learn a trade! In turn, they'd help some business owner with their work, for a set amount of time. It could be a month, or half a year ... however long a house elf needs to become proficient."

Harry shook his head, amazed. "See, I didn't think about that last one, and it's brilliant! What do you think about apprenticing some of the elves to Gringotts' security teams?"

"Well ... the goblins might have reservations if it comes to specific trade secrets," Hermione said slowly, "but I don't see why they wouldn't. Sharptooth can certainly ask! Will you send him a letter today?"

Harry turned to Betty. "Before I start something, I need to know what you and the others think about it. Please inform them and have a vote or something. If you all think it's fine, we'll proceed."

"Betty will!" Betty cried, eyes welling up with tears. "Betty be going immediately. Dory be coming if you be needing something, Harry Potter sir!"

She jumped forward, hugged Harry around the knees, and popped off with a little boom.

"You," Hermione said with laughter in her voice, "are a gift to those house elves. And I sincerely hope it'll work out, because Magical Britain desperately needs modern ideas. Allowing them to specialize and apprentice with masters will probably increase their work's worth even more."

"If those masters even want to have house elves learn their secrets," Harry cautioned her. "We both know that those guys would put them out of business fast."

"Someone will give it a try," Hermione countered. "Especially when they get house elf labour in return. As you said, your friends are good. Their work will be worth it."

"I guess we'll find out." Harry finally sat down and picked up his fork. "And, er, maybe you'd like to write the business proposal?"

Hermione lit up. "You'd let me do that?"

"Not without compensation, of course," Harry hurried to say. "You've put some thought into this already, so it's only fair that you get a share. Maybe Sharptooth should be the one to negotiate that."

"There's no need, Harry," Hermione said. "I don't have any house elves, so I don't have a stake in this whatsoever. But I'd like to be involved in the setting up of the business, because it's exciting, and because I want to learn how it works. It's a tragedy how little we've learned so far about the only bank and the economy in Magical Britain."

"Deal." Harry shook Hermione's hand and grinned. "Thanks, 'Mione. I have a feeling that I'll get the house elves' answer-"

Betty popped back, right onto the table.

"-now."

"Betty be asking all of the Potter elves," Betty cried, shaking like a leaf from excitement, "and half of them are willing to take up work for other families! When we be starting?"

"As soon as I can manage," Harry assured her. "Hermione will write our business plan, one of you can take it to Sharptooth, and he'll make it happen. Have patience for a couple of days, and give Sharptooth time to get word out, okay?"

"Yes!" Betty jumped a little. "Thank you, Harry Potter sir, and Harry Potter sir's Mione!"

She popped away again, leaving two amused teenagers behind.

"I guess I'll get to work, then," Hermione said. "Frankly, it's the least I can do after she spoiled us with this."

"About that ... which country is this from?" Harry wondered. "I get scrambled eggs and rashers, but the sausage is strange, and there's salad. With red cabbage."

"It's Jajecznica, a traditional Polish breakfast. Typically it's just the egg and sausage with bread, but we know how your elves like to go the extra mile."

"Have you eaten this before?"

"No, but I know of it because my parents took me to a Polish restaurant two years ago," Hermione explained. "I remember seeing it on the menu and thinking that I'd like to try it one day. It's not so very unlike a British breakfast, it just tastes a little differently. And salad never hurt anyone."

"I guess not, when Betty made it." Harry stuffed a bite of the rashers in his mouth. "Yum, crispy."

"It's got so many calories," Hermione moaned around her mouthful of egg, "but it's so good."

It was very good, but it also was so filling that they had to decline seconds and were a bit slow in walking to class. Even the snakelings around Harry's arms and neck felt drowsy to him, as if they'd bitten off a bit too much for them to digest.

Charms unfortunately brought on not one but two new spells for them to learn, followed by even more homework. Therefore, Hermione secluded herself during lunch to write the business proposal for the house elf cleaning service, leaving it to Harry to draw Ron's unwanted attention to himself.

"I told you that the Ministry won't tell the dementors to back off, even with Black gone," the boy said smugly and waved a copy of the Daily Prophet around. "The Minister said so himself in this interview."

"At least Susan Bones' aunt tries," Parvati replied. "And she will keep trying until the Minister finally calls them off."

"Or the ICW intervenes," Percy Weasley called along the table. The students fell silent and looked expectantly at him. "It's not unheard of for them to overrule a country's decision if there's a direct link between a case they're working and an adverse affect or several adverse affects for the local populace."

"Oh, stuff it, Percy, what can the ICW even do against Minister Fudge's orders?" Ron asked. "They're in Rome or wherever, and the dementors are here."

Percy's expression grew pinched. "Magical Britain is a member of the International Confederation of Wizards, which means that Britain agreed to authorize the ruling members to take certain actions on its behalf, if necessary. Calling off a horde of dementors that are hanging around children with no justifiable reason whatsoever certainly falls into that category, and I for one hope that they'll take action soon."

"He does," Fred said loudly. "Wrote a letter once a week since Sirius Black revealed himself to spur the ICW on."

"We did, too," George added cheerfully. "Because the more the merrier!"

"As did we," Angelina Johnson said with a glare in Ron's direction.

"That makes you kind of traitors," Ron proclaimed. "Going over the head of our government like that."

Alicia Spinnet crossed her arms over her chest. "If the Ministry won't do the right thing, then the ICW will have to step in. That's what they're literally there for. That's got nothing to do with being traitors, and everything with wanting to stay alive. You better believe that I'll never vote for Fudge, should he dare run for Minister again."

"Nah, Fudge is finished," Lee Jordan said casually, reaching for the platter with the honey-glazed baked carrots. "No one at Hogwarts will vote for him ... at least no one with half a brain."

"Ron hasn't got even quarter of one," Fred offered, "which explains his profound stupidity."

Ron glowered at him. "You can laugh all you want. The facts speak for themselves. The ICW hasn't done shit yet, and they never will. They don't care for a bunch of kids. Besides, maybe there's a reason the dementors are still around, and you just haven't bothered to find out."

"You know," George began.

"He might be right," Fred continued.

"There might be hidden depths to Minister Fudge," George said.

"Other than his deep, deep pockets." Fred looked so innocently ponderous that Harry nearly tore something as he tried not to laugh.

"But-" George barrelled on.

"-he'd have to prove it," Fred said.

"-and the time for that is running out fast," Lee ended the spiel with a flourish.

"He has until the end of the week," Katie Bell said to approving murmurs of friends and fellow students. "After that, we should call for a vote of no confidence."

"Hell yeah!" Oliver Wood cried, raising his cup of pumpkin juice. "We need our Quidditch pitch back!"

Others chimed in, and the call to arms spread from Gryffindor to the other tables. While Slytherin seemed the least enthusiastic, the idea visibly took hold. Even the teachers looked intrigued, as if the idea to actually try and oust Fudge from his post hadn't even occured to them.

"That's just another one of your useless ideas," Ron complained. "And we'll all get punished for it, just you wait and see."

"Before you open your big mouth, Ronald, be aware that anyone can call for such," Hermione called from the far end of the table. "Even underage witches and wizards, as long as their reason to do so is considered valid by the Wizengamot and by public vote."

"Even if the vote should somehow fail us," Percy went on, faint excitement on his usually placid face, "the ICW will take note, because a vote of no confidence is always international news. No gag order can prevent that."

"Yeah, because Gringotts is involved in the spreading of those news," Ron sneered. "But don't be so sure that the ICW will actually act, because Gringotts is protecting their own interests, aren't they? They want Black's gold, and Harry's, too, by getting Black free. That they'd also seriously harm our government would play right into their hands."

"Wow, you sound like a Ministry mouthpiece," Angelina said sharply. "Should we check you for curses, Weasley?"

"I'm not cursed," Ron's sneer turned up a notch. "I'm just saying how it is. That's strategy, even an idiot can see that. The Minister can't really lose, not with Gringotts' conflict of interest, and you won't be able to make him change his mind."

"That's a new low, even for you, Weasley," Lavender told him. "Are you secretly a hardliner like Malfoy and his posse? Do you want some sort of king to make all the decisions for us? Maybe even someone like You-know-who?"

Ron flushed unattractively. "Of course not. But that's how things are right now, and no amount of protesting will change anything, other than make the Minister believe that he has to bring you all under control. Do you want to imagine what he'll come up with? Because I don't."

Lunch ended on that unpleasant note, mostly because Harry had the niggling feeling that Ron might be right. It was terribly suspicious how slowly things concerning the dementors were going, and even Sharptooth had no idea what could be done, other than having gotten the ICW involved and waiting for things to finally happen.

After class, when the others were busy with the Patronus Club, Harry took Hermione's business plan up to the Come And Go Room and settled in for a conversation via journal with Sharptooth.

October 19th, 1993

Hello Steward Sharptooth,

I write to mentally prepare you for a business proposal Hermione has come up with. Since my house elves desperately need more work, Hermione thinks that I could loan them out to families that would like the services, but can't have an elf for whatever reason. My elves are very on board with that plan and asked that the list of available services be adjusted as they further their education. Right now, they excel at cooking, cleaning, gardening, farming, and tailoring, but they plan to add to that very soon. I think they'd also do great as a taxi service.

Please tell me that there's enough interest in house elf service to get this going, because I can't let my elves suffer like this. They're desperate for even the smallest jobs and their restlessness is making me restless, too.

Thank you!

May your pile of gold ever grow and your enemies grovel at your feet,

Harry

To his great relief, the answer came just a few minutes later. Harry was so eager for it that he read the words as they appeared on the journal page.

Heir Potter,

Your idea sounds good in theory; however, it's not something that hasn't been attempted before. Many enterprising wizards and witches, and even Gringotts at some point, have tried to establish businesses like the one you're envisioning. The problem wasn't the eagerness of the house elves then, either, but what it would mean magically in our society, especially as it modernizes.

You see, if you send a house elf to do work for you, their magic automatically makes that about you, even if the work they're doing is for the individual that bought their services. It can never not be about you, either, not even by contract, because of the bond you have with your elves.

The solution to circumvent that magical circumstance can be twofold:

1) If someone signs a contract, they'd have to sign over their house, garden, farm, or business over to you so the house elves can use the full breadth of their magical abilities. If it's your property, even if you'd never actually claim it as yours, their service would be at a hundred percent and thus beyond satisfactorily.

2) If a client does not sign their land, property, or business over to you, your elves would be severely hampered in what they can do for them. Cleaning might be easy, as would be cooking, or farming, but jobs that require magical finesse, or sacred knowledge, would be out of the question. As soon as family magic is involved, and you're not part of that family, Magic would refuse your house elves to grasp that family magic's secrets, and quite rightly so. It's the one branch of magic that's taboo to prying eyes and ears, even house elf eyes and can liken such situations with asking your elves to do someone a favour for you, like cooking or fetching things for Miss Dagworth-Granger. It'll help that you'll earn money for their work, that makes it more about you than a mere favour would.

So you see, either case requires careful contracting, and not just a stellar, but a platin reputation for keeping secrets that aren't relevant for law enforcement. As head of your family, your elves would naturally report everything they'd learn to you, which would make you the potentially most dangerous wizard in Britain. In the past, none of the entrepreneurs were therefore satisfied with the stringent constraints, because nothing about it was as fast or easy as they'd have liked. They also didn't want to give Gringotts the cut it deserves for the work the goblins would have to put into the crafting of the contracts.

That being said, I can set up the business today and craft contracts for several standard scenarios. Gaining clients may take a while, but as you have a reference in your guesthouse in France already, even if it is a very young one, and your name is well known, it just might take off regardless.

Personally, I'm rather intrigued and willing to find out whether you'll lift the curse that's been holding back hired house elve service for centuries, so you may send your proposal along and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Once I've verified its viability, you'll have to send me an official letter, instructing me to get the business with your exact specifications up and running.

May your foes quiver in fear and your friends always profit from your generosity,

Sharptooth

Harry leaned back in his leather chair and exhaled loudly. "Oh man."

All four snakelings crawled from his robe sleeves and circled the journal with flicking tongues.

"Not good news, Harry?" Sweetie asked.

"No, well, maybe. Can I explain?"

Goldie raised her head and splayed her hood, looking like a large, golden arm coil for a moment. "Of course. We understand a lot already, even though we're still young."

"Thanks. I need to talk it over with someone before I'm trying to do the impossible." Harry proceeded to read Sharptooth's pertinent statements and then asked, "Do you think people would go for it? Either signing over all of their stuff just to have someone come in and clean their house? Or accept subpar service if they don't?"

The quiet sibling coiled around Harry's ink bottle, blue markings glowing a little. "I think you underestimate how satisfying house elf magic of even average strength can be for a magical human." He tilted his little head. "All a normal family wants is get rid of dust and vermin, and maybe get good meals, no? House elves can do that easily, no fancy contract required."

"It only gets interesting for apprenticeships and high arts because of family magics and secrets," Blue agreed. After his short trip around Harry's desk, he made his way back up his right arm and settled around his neck. "The goblins are very, very good with contracts. They take a proper cut from Harry, elves have work, people are happy, everyone wins."

"You all think so?" Harry asked Sweetie and Goldie.

Both snakelings hissed their agreement, and a sense of peace settled over Harry. "Cool. Then I'll try ... if Sharptooth says we can. I don't need the money, anyway."

He called Betty, handed her Hermione's carefully written proposal and sent her to Gringotts. She was ecstatic and so grateful for the order that it nearly hurt. Worse, waiting for Sharptooth to consider all the angles would take time, time Harry's poor house elves would spend biting their little nails and fighting for scraps of work. How that was even possible after Dobby had shown him just how big Potter Manor and the grounds were, Harry didn't know, but if the elves felt like they didn't have enough to do, who was he to question them?

To distract himself, he pulled out Sirius' journal next. It had been a while since he'd written because of their Floo talks, but Sirius was usually busy with meetings during the afternoons and evenings and writing was helping Harry calm down.

October 19th, 1993

Hey Siri,

How are things in Rome? All's well I hope; news have been slow in coming for a week.

Neville and my ceremony was successful; I'm sure Dobby has already shown you the memories in your sleep. Did you like it? And are you very angry that I invited Professor Lupin to stand with me? His magic felt good, though, so I hope you can forgive me if you actually don't like it. I also told him to finally write you; he's been moping around the castle for weeks and it's driving me a little bonkers. Anyway, do you think Neville and I will get the certificate for our bond soon? Since they're created with magic, we thought we'd get it the day after or something, but it's still not here.

This morning, Hermione convinced me to try and create a business to find my house elves some work. Sharptooth said it'll be difficult to attract clients due to certain magical restrictions, but we'll try anyway. He'll likely contact you soon. I hope you'll also think that it's a good idea and give him the go-ahead - if you don't need my elves for some of your own projects, of course. Those'll always come first.

Oh, and can I ask what Brady's emergency was? I missed him on Sunday and hope that he and whatever, or whoever, he was busy with is okay now.

Love,

Harry

P.S.: Ron's been his usual optimistic self and said that the ICW probably won't force our Ministry to call back the dementors because there might be a valid reason to keep them around. Do you know something about that? No one knows what it could be, and people really, really want the dementors gone. There's even talk of calling for a vote of no confidence for the Minister.

Harry read over his entry and decided that it was enough for now. Sirius' meetings could go on forever, especially his healing appointments, and he didn't want to stress him out more than he absolutely had to.

In fact, it was probably time to send him something nice to go with his letter.

"Would you like to get your picture taken for Sirius?" Harry asked the four snakelings. "Betty can develop the photo real quick."

"Our beauty should be captured for posterity," Goldie hissed. Her tail tangled with Sweetie's and both swayed a little as they opened their hoods to preen. Next to each other, their contrast in colour looked absolutely stunning.

"I want Harry," Blue said, wriggling a little around Harry's neck to get more comfortable. "His father still needs much happiness."

"Betty," Harry called softly. When the still twitching elf appeared, he sighed. "Hey, Sharptooth will work as quickly as he can. You know that, right?"

"I be knowing, but ... hope be terrible," Betty squeaked, wringing her hands. "We elves be hoping so much. We be knowing that people be wanting us to work, and that Harry Potter sir not be having any influence on that. Still ... we not be able to help it."

"Okay." Harry gently stroked her arms. "Would you take a picture of us for Sirius? The Come And Go Room already provided a camera, see?"

"Of course, Harry Potter sir!" Betty snapped up the camera and directed the four snakes to drape themselves all over Harry and find a good pose to show off their hoods. "Death adders be growing well. Harry Potter sir's dogfather be liking that a lot, Betty be sure of it."

She snapped the picture and immediately popped away to get it developed.

"Thanks you guys," Harry praised the snakelings. "You're good friends. Sirius will love it."

"Harry is a good friend, too," Blue declared. He snuggled against Harry's cheek and tickled him with his tongue. "Very warm. And you listen."

"And feed us well," his brother added. "We're hungry, Harry. Can you call your soul friend?"

"Of course, here ... Expecto Patronum." When the apparition swirled into existence, surprisingly having taken on the form of a rabbit, Harry said, "Play until they're full, and if they want to snuggle and you're still having fun, let them. Thanks, mate." He carefully touched the lightly buzzing silvery animal and smiled. "Off you go, then. I know you want to."

The rabbit's ears and whiskers twitched and then it shot off, the snakes racing to follow.

Surprised, Harry watched them chase after the running rabbit. The snakes were fast! And after a bit of mindless slithering they were quickly devising a strategy to corner the Patronus and take little nips and bites out of it. As large as the Come And Go Room was, the snakelings always seemed to find ways to gain on their prey, and sometimes Harry thought he saw them lengthening as they lunged, which surely was a trick of the rather dim light.

A rustling from Sirius' journal caught his attention.

October 19th, 1993

Harry,

It's so good to hear from you. Thank you for the information in your post script - it's unfortunately the most pertinent bit of news to reach Walker and I right now. How far along are your friends to calling that vote of no confidence?

Listen carefully now, please, because that vote shouldn't be called if it can be helped. Ronald unfortunately was right, the Minister will have a valid claim to keep the dementors posted around Hogwarts, and the reason is Peter Pettigrew, your parents' secret keeper. I told you that he was taken care of, and he is, but the British Ministry of Magic doesn't know it yet. All they have is my 'testimonial' from 1981; I did try to tell the aurors that they needed to find Pettigrew, and that's enough for them now to justify their dementor decision, even if the wanker was declared dead by them.

I'll talk it over with Walker, but he told me only last week that telling the world that we have Pettigrew in custody will open us up to attacks as the ICW will want to take him into their own custody for preliminary questioning. The timing is very inconvenient - we've just negotiated for the trial to begin in January. Giving certain people two months to try and get rid of my main witness in the trial could lose me everything.

However, I'll ask Gringotts to authorize the printing of a special edition of the Hogwarts Herald if you can't wait a second longer to have the dementors - and Fudge - gone. Just say the word and Hermione'll get her story.

Love,

Sirius

Harry cursed and grabbed his quill, ramming it into the ink pot in his haste to pen an answer.

Sirius,

No.

In fact, hell no. I won't let you throw away your best chance to win that trial! The dementors are bad, and we won't get to play Quidditch as long as they're at Hogwarts, but that's not nearly as bad as you possibly going back to Azkaban! I'd much rather let Fudge stay in office for a while longer than lose you.

Also, you told me that Walker's excellent at stalling. Even if the vote of no confidence gets called and Fudge brings up Pettigrew, it'll change nothing for us. I've got no problem being selfish when it's about you, you know.

Harry

Anxious, Harry waited for Sirius' reply. For long minutes, the new page of the journal remained blank, and when words finally began to appear, he greedily followed their path across the page.

Harry,

You're just as fierce as your mum, and you know how well she protected you against Tom Riddle. Thank you, pup, it means a lot.

I still meant it, though. If you need the dementors gone tomorrow, Pettigrew will make a spectacular reappearance and damn the consequences. Your protection comes first. It'll always come first.

Love,

Sirius

Harry scowled and scratched out, Still a fat no. I've got an army of house elves; I'm protected enough. You keep Pettigrew under wraps. That rat bastard owes you, and he'll pay.

Just as hurriedly, Sirius answered.

Harry,

He will. We've got Pettigrew questioned already, and had his testimony verified by several surveyors, both of Gringotts and independent. His testimony wouldn't be lost in case of his death, but courts of law can be unpredictable. The untimely demise of a witness is never a good thing, even if we can use magic to verify nearly everything. We can't ever underestimate the human factor. People will go to incredible lengths to reach their goals, consequences be damned.

What happens to the rat after the trial ... well. I'd only care if they decided to let him walk free, and in that case I'd have him eliminated myself. Sorry if that shocks you, but that man cannot be allowed to walk the same earth as you do, after what his cowardly actions cost you. Don't ask it of me, either, because that's the one thing I won't be able to give you.

Love,

Sirius

Harry needed to sit back and breathe for a moment, because seeing it spelled out so starkly was shocking, and even more shockingly reassuring. That tiny bit of magic in Sirius' words showed just how seriously his father was taking it, and it resonated with something deep inside of Harry. Something dark and feral.

It's okay, he finally wrote. I understand. I'd never ask you to spare him. After a pause, he added, As long as you don't get caught.

Ha, Sirius replied, that's a deal. Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about your ceremony. It was fantastic, you and Neville did very well with the ritual. That you chose Remus to stand with you was very kind, and it's okay if you get along with him. I'm sure he'll write when he's ready. As to why Brady wasn't there ... it's because he was with me. He was too kind to say so to you, but he should have. I was a mess because I couldn't stand with you and begged him to keep me company. I'm sorry. He should've been there.

A horrible wrench of compassion tore through Harry and he cursed himself for assuming that Sirius would be able to deal with missing this important event in Harry's life when he'd made it more than clear how much he hated himself for missing the last eleven years already.

It's okay, he replied, throat tight and eyes burning. I had all my friends and Professor Lupin. I'm glad you weren't alone. Maybe Neville and I should have waited until you were cleared - I'm sorry for not thinking it through.

Something like subdued, wet laughter bled through the ink as Sirius wrote, Nonsense. Waiting is the last thing you should've done. Who knows how long I'll be kept busy in Rome? You claiming family is a matter of survival at this point, because you'll need all the help you can get to withstand Riddle's attacks. Me missing the ceremony might hurt, but I sure as hell don't want you to remain alone just to spare my feelings.

A little calmer, Sirius continued, You're already letting me be a part of your life, and it'll be enough. I'm just not in a good place mentally yet, but that's hardly your fault, love. Allowing me to poach your friends when I need them helps, too. You found a good one in Brady, that's for sure. Talking to him is amazingly easy.

Yeah, I'm glad Healer Spleenbash made me pick a mind healer, Harry admitted. A little worried, he asked, Is it strange that I don't think of him as my doctor anymore? At all? Even if he is?

It's not unusual, according to Healer Spleenbash, Sirius replied. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think of him as your doctor, either. He's gotten too involved for that, at least as it pertains to me, because he's a marshmallow. He's not getting paid to hold my hand, and he still does it because he wants you to be well. My own healer already warned me not to get too attached, so this is me passing the warning along. It sucks, but she's right. Brady will have to move on eventually, and only time will tell if the friendship we enjoy with him now will persist past our professional relationship.

Do you think it will?, Harry wondered, trying not to feel too downcast.

Sirius' magic was cradling Harry's fingertips softly as he answered, Well, I sure hope it does. I'm not good at giving people back once I like them. If I were, I probably wouldn't have hounded Pettigrew the way I did for betraying your parents.

Harry sighed. I don't think I'm very good at it, either.

Just let things come at you for now, Sirius replied. Your elves will protect you from physical harm, and what I know of Hermione and your other friends has me believe that they're good people to have in your corner. As long as you keep a cool head and evaluate stuff from time to time, you should be good.

So, trust but verify?, Harry asked, not entirely serious.

It's a good motto for you, at least right now. Mine is more like: investigate the crap out of things, then trust, then verify. Maybe verify some more if the old doggy gut is still twingeing.

Harry huffed out an involuntary laugh. Right. You're not paranoid if someone's really out to get you. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't find this funny.

Oh, it definitely would be funny if it weren't so unfortunately true, Sirius assured him. I picture my future acquitted self in a water castle somewhere, surrounded by sneaky, deadly house elf ninjas, with several deadly surprises hidden in the moat, and the castle itself, because why not? Maybe I'd write my memoirs of Azkaban ... or just raunchy romance novels, I haven't decided yet. In either case I'd project an aura of dark despair, of course, as is fitting for a tortured hero.

Er, okay. Why romance novels, though?, Harry asked, bewildered. Why not spy stories, or crime novels?

I've missed out on romance this last decade, pup, and it doesn't look like I'll have any sort of fun in the foreseeable future, either. I'll just take what entertainment I can get while being Gringotts' guest.

I can get behind that, but maybe don't ask me to read that book?, Harry wrote quickly. I don't think I'm ready for 'raunchy', whatever that actually means.

Sirius drew a little smiley face. Don't worry, I'd never. I'm your dad! I do have one or two serious bones in my body. Ha!

Groaning, Harry shot back, You just had to go there, didn't you?

I absolutely had to, yes.

The dinner bell tolled then, disrupting their chat with its insistence.

I'd better go, it's dinner time, Harry wrote regretfully. I really miss you.

Only two more months until the holidays, Sirius encouraged him. And you'll already see Brady again next week. I'm a bit jealous, but I'll just lure him here with the promise of pasta and vino and get all the juicy gossip from him.

Betty chose that moment to appear on the desk and offered a glossy photo to Harry. "Betty be done developing the photo. Betty be already sticking one in Harry Potter sir's photo album. Should Betty be taking this to Harry Potter sir's Sirius?"

"Yes, please do. Give him a hug while you're at it, he's talking about gossiping." Harry shuddered a little. "Clearly he needs one."

Grinning, Betty popped away and Harry once more set his quill onto the journal page. I've got a little surprise for you. Everyone says hi!

It took a while for Sirius to answer, and it wasn't because Betty needed a while to pop to Rome. As he waited, Harry collected the sleepy snakelings, put them all in his bag and asked a Potter elf to take them up to the dorm for a nap. Harry mentally thanked the house elves for their idea to simply call them like this, as opposed to trying to remember fifty names and giving them all equal amounts of little jobs to do. That way they could work it out among themselves and wouldn't be subjected to his meddling.

Finally, Betty came back, and she was holding out a photo for Harry to take. It showed a fairly healthy looking Sirius in shirtsleeves, a robe carelessly thrown over the back of his chair. It moved, as magical pictures did, with Sirius grinning at him and making a ridiculous kissy face before turning into his animagus form and wagging his tail. Harry choked up a little just by seeing him, as the quality was vastly superior to the one grainy picture Gringotts had allowed the ICW and the international press to have. He realized then that he hadn't fully believed in the man's recovery. Sometimes a picture really said it best.

Thank you, Harry wrote, trying very hard not to let his agitated feelings bleed into the journal. You look so much better than you did in August.

Thankfully I feel much better, too. And I feel incredibly dumb that I haven't done this sooner, Harry, Sirius wrote, the chagrin drifting from the ink as well as through their bond. I hope you can forgive me; I was vain and wanted to look my best the next time you saw me. The healers really are doing their best to feed me up, and I'm doing my best to make their job as easy as possible so I can be the father you deserve.

You already are, Harry replied, wanting to scowl but knowing just too well where Sirius came from. If he weren't so busy, he'd probably feel self-conscious about his still less than optimal state as well. Can I show Hermione your picture? And Neville?

Of course you can, they're your friends. And now I'll let you go. It's already seven, you must be starving. We'll write or talk soon! Love you, pup.

Love you, too. Harry drew a little snake with a talk bubble, into which he scribbled 'siriusly'.

A wave of amused fondness reached him through his bond with Sirius and then a small surge of magic closed the journal with a decisive snap.

"Right, dinner. I'm going," Harry grinned. "Potter elf, please."

A younger house elf named Beanie appeared promptly, eagerly awaiting his request.

"Hey Beanie, you game trying to get me as close to the Great Hall without being seen as you can?"

"Beanie is!" the elf gushed, grabbing Harry's hand and popping off enthusiastically. When they'd reappeared in one of the bathrooms right by the Great Hall, he shyly asked, "Romy be offering Beanie work in the castle tomorrow. Can Beanie go and help with cleaning?"

"Of course you can," Harry said. "No helping Dumbledore or Snape, though, or students who want to be mean to others."

"Beanie understands, Master Harry," Beanie beamed. "Beanie is a good elf! Master Harry be proud of Beanie's good work!"

With a little whoop, the house elf vanished and Harry quickly downed a vitamin potion before finally making his way to dinner.

oOo

All of Wednesday was a trial. Harry had to fight to get a moment alone with his Quidditch team, and when he'd finally managed just after dinner right outside the Great Hall, Oliver Wood ranted for five minutes about having the upcoming match cancelled before he allowed the others to get a word in edgewise. Harry's stuttered explanation fell on deaf ears.

"Good to know that you're taking it as seriously as I am, Harry," Wood finished. "We really need to get our demand for that vote of no confidence to the Wizengamot, or else I can kiss my career as a professional Quidditch player goodbye."

"But that's just it, Oliver!" Harry cried. "I don't want you to send that demand! Not right now!"

"What?" Wood cried. "Why?"

Katie sighed. "If you'd actually listened, you'd know." She patted Harry's shoulder. "Seems like there'll be complications for Harry's father if we do that ... that's what you were trying to say, right? Fudge would be trying to hurt Lord Black's case."

Harry nodded. "Yes, exactly!"

"But this is Quidditch!" Wood protested. "If we wait until the New Year, it might be too late!"

"How hard can it be to rearrange the matches?" Angelina asked with a roll of her eyes. "Honestly, it's just us students, we're flexible. Harry's convinced that Black is innocent, and Black is certainly doing his best to set things straight. That's enough for me."

"But why can't Black do that now?" Wood raked both hands through his hair. "It's my last year, and some team coaches said they'd come scouting, maybe! That was supposed to be my big chance!"

"Oh shut it." Alicia slapped him impatiently. "Lord Black broke out of Azkaban for Harry, Ollie! The place everyone calls hell on earth! Do you think he's fit for a trial, yet? If he needs more time to heal and prepare his case, then that's what I'll give him. We owe Harry that much, after sending You-know-who packing."

Katie agreed promptly. "It sucks that Fudge won't call the dementors off, but we won't let him get away with anything, we'll just send our owl a bit later than planned."

"That doesn't mean-"

"-we can't prank the crap out of him-"

"-though!"

"I'd never ask that of you," Harry told the Weasley twins with feeling. "In fact, I'll help, if you want."

"Oooh-"

"-how can we say no-"

"-to that offer?"

"Yes, great," Alicia said, "but we'll have to tell the others. Let's hope that no one decides to do it alone."

"We're on it," Fred said with a little salute.

"Leave it to us, Harrykins," George added. "Your friends won't go behind your back if they know what's good for them."

The twins marched off, causing the girls to shake their heads fondly.

"It's as good as done," Angelina assured Harry.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Harry replied. To Wood he said, "We'll win that cup!"

"Yeah, yeah." The boy's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "The only good thing about all of this will be that everyone's training will have suffered after such a long break, not just ours."

"Aww, come, I have a couple of chocolate frogs. They'll cheer you right up," Alicia cooed. She put her arm around Wood's waist and gently led him towards the stairs. "It'll be alright, Ollie."

They left, taking Angelina and Katie with them, and Harry hurried off to find Hermione before they had to get ready for their Astronomy class.

"Could you convince them?" Hermione whispered as they gazed through their telescope.

"They agreed to hold back until after the holidays," Harry answered just as quietly. He fought against a shiver and glanced at Ron, who was fighting to get his own telescope into position. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You don't think Ron would ..."

Harry shook his head. "Nah. I believe him when he says he doesn't want the trouble. But things don't stay secret long around here, do they?" He lowered his voice even further. "Tons of students heard us, and there are portraits everywhere. Also, we can't be the only ones thinking about getting Fudge out of office. Lots of parents hate him too, so it may be only a matter of time, anyway."

"You're probably right," Hermione admitted with a little sigh. "And your father probably knows that, too." Hidden in the folds of their robes, she took Harry's hand. "Whatever happens, you'll get through it."

"You think so?"

Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Your dad hired the meanest lawyers in all of Europe; I'm pretty certain that their contingency plans will have contingency plans."

"Quiet, please," Professor Sinistra admonished them and tapped them both gently on the shoulders. "Stargazing is not a time for juvenile whispering."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry and Hermione said and even meant it.

For the rest of the night they didn't talk much, and when it was time for bed, Harry tried to tell himself that everything would work out.

oOo

"He can't be serious!" Hermione cried, brandishing the Friday edition of the Wizarding International Times like a weapon. "What was Dumbledore thinking!"

"What's up?" Seamus asked as he slid onto the bench next to Dean.

"Dumbledore called for a vote of no confidence for Fudge," Harry said dully.

"Well, I'd say it's about time, so why is that a bad thing?" Seamus started to put food on his plate. "Me mum'll be ecstatic." His happy expression dimmed somewhat as he asked, "It is about the dementors, right?"

"You'll see," Harry sighed. "I'm not hungry anymore." He pushed his plate away and got up. "I'll see you in class."

"Wait, I'll come with you," Hermione said. She handed the paper to Parvati, who immediately spread it out so Lavender could read along.

Hermione led Harry into one of the unused rooms close to the Great Hall and hugged him tightly.

"Dumbledore did this deliberately, didn't he?" she murmured. "The timing is very suspicious. You just managed to stop the Hogwarts movement and there he is, doing what the students wouldn't."

Harry burrowed into her as well as he could. "You bet he did. He knows that he can't control me anymore if Sirius gets cleared - not that I get why he would want to control me in the first place. He wants to take away Sirius' best defence."

"A lot of students won't understand why putting Fudge on the spot is a problem," Hermione said carefully, stroking his hair and shoulders. "Please don't be angry at them for being glad about possibly getting rid of the dementors. Whether they know it or not, they - we - are all suffering from very mild dementor exposure. I overheard Madam Pomfrey complain to Professor Lupin about it. That's why we always get so much chocolate after the Patronus Club, and why we were having so many chocolate based desserts lately. It's to combat the fatigue."

"I'm not angry at them for being glad," Harry mumbled into her hair. "But I'm bloody well furious with Dumbledore for pulling that stunt when he knows exactly how much it'll hurt Sirius."

"Can't you tell me what this is all about?" Hermione asked. "I'll support you regardless, of course, but it'd be easier to have a little more context."

"It was supposed to be a surprise for the Hogwarts Herald. A super exclusive reveal for January." Harry closed his eyes. "But we can forget that now, I guess."

"I'm sorry ... and angry on your and the Paper Troupe's behalf," Hermione admitted. "What can we do to help?"

"I'll ask Sirius how he wants to handle this. As soon as I know, I'll tell you. Is that alright?"

Hermione gently pushed Harry away and looked him straight in the face. "Whatever you decide to tell me is alright, Harry. I know I can be a nag, but I hope I'll always know when to keep my distance. I'd never want to hurt you by asking insensitive questions and meddling where I'm not wanted."

"I kind of like it when you nag. Mostly, anyway," Harry confessed. "But thank you for giving me space. I appreciate it." He smiled wanly before his face fell again. "I guess things just got moving."

"I wish things would move at your pace for a change," Hermione murmured and pulled him back into an embrace. "But if they must move, we can make sure that they're at least moving in the right direction. Fudge probably has to appear before the Wizengamot and publicly hear the impeachment this weekend. He'll be allowed to defend himself then, but honestly, it won't look very good for him. Whatever ace he thinks he has up his sleeve, people will wonder why he hasn't gone public with it sooner after all those protests."

"I'd love to see him get the boot," Harry murmured. "Damn the man."

They stayed together until the bell called them to class, cuddling and quietly snacking on food that a house elf brought them. It was neigh on unbearable for Harry to sit through three whole classes. He felt especially bad during History, because Mr. Irvine truly did his best to make the material appealing. Disappointing his new teacher weighed heavily on Harry's mind after all the trouble Sirius and Sharptooth had gone through to engage him, but he simply couldn't help it.

After Mr. Irvine had dismissed him, thankfully with some understanding, Harry shot off, letting a house elf drop him off in the seventh floor corridor.

"Come And Go Room be in use right now," the elf named Wally told him, tugging lightly on his ears. "Hoggywarty head elf Romy be busy storing junk on Fridays. They be done in a minute, Master Harry, but Wally can take Master Harry down to snake chamber, if Master Harry be in a hurry."

"It's no bother," Harry managed, although Sirius' journal was burning a hole into his bag. The snakelings, who'd been so very good all day, started to slither over his limbs in agitation. "I like it better here. But thanks."

Some indeterminable time later, the door to the room opened and half a dozen elves squeaked in surprise at seeing Harry.

"Master Harry!" Beanie cried, rushing forward to hug Harry's knees. "You be visiting Beanie at work!"

"Er, yeah. Hello." Distracted by the sheer amount of junk he could see through the open door, Harry patted the house elf's back. "What is all this stuff?"

"This be waste of centuries," Romy explained, eyeing Harry attentively. "We be having orders of taking it out of sight, and not bothering muggles with it. So us house elves be storing stuff here. There be enough room."

"Can I ... can I see?" Harry asked in amazement, forgetting about his own worries for a moment.

The elves hopped excitedly and tugged him inside. Behind Harry, the heavy wooden door slammed shut.

"I ... wow. This is incredible!" Mouth agape, Harry turned around and stared at the rows and rows of stuffed shelves and stacked up things.

There was broken furniture from different eras, some of it looking incredibly old; mangled and ripped books in intold numbers; mountains of destroyed clothes; chipped crockery; broken vases; glinting if bent and broken silver cutlery; but also swords and shields, numerous whole and broken wands, jewellery, bedding, jars and phials of potions ingredients and potions, and a myriad mundane and magical things more.

Walking along one aisle, Harry noted doors and windows that had been taken off their hinges, portraits that had stopped moving or were slashed or broken in some way, their inhabitants mumbling grouchily about shoddy repair service.

"Not all of this is junk," Harry noted, pointing at hundreds of perfectly fine quills, half-finished scrolls of homework, even preserved sweets from centuries past.

"Many things also be simply lost," Romy explained. "Us elves be storing it all here, in case students be wanting it back. Most times, they not be remembering. Once they leave Hoggywarty, it no longer be theirs. but we be keeping it if wee little students need things."

Harry turned around again, taking it all in. "But how is that possible? There's gemstones and gold and things!"

Beanie began to bounce. "Oh, oh, student jewellery not be most valuable thing in here! There be genuine artifacts! They be so old and pretty."

"Can I see?" Harry immediately asked Romy. If there was some sort of historic object hidden in here, he wanted to tell Mr. Irvine about it to make up for today's inattention, and maybe even learn something about its origin.

The elf cocked her head and planted her little hands on her hips. "The one Beanie be meaning not be good artifact, even if it be old and pretty. It be cursed ... it be evil. Harry Potter sir be staying at a distance. Not even house elves go there for dusting."

"I promise ... although, why is it still here if it is evil?"

"We not be having other place to hide it," one of the other house elves told him. "Hoggywarty be better off without it, but it be too dangerous to throw out. Little witchies or wizards could find it and that not be good at all."

"I see." Harry swallowed.

"You still be curious. All little wizards are. I be holding your hand," Romy decided. "That way, I be keeping you away from it. There be compulsions on horrible blinky thing. Potter elves be not forgiving Romy for letting Harry Potter sir get hurt."

"No, we do not," Beanie said. "But it be really pretty. Master Harry should see Hoggywarty's greatest secret. Beanie be trusting Master Harry to be careful, but Beanie also be helping to keep Master Harry safe."

Romy took Harry's hand and popped him away, into another aisle full to bursting with all kinds of junk. Beanie stayed right by Harry's side, large eyes bulging a little and grip tight on Harry's other hand.

"Er, maybe I should call Dobby," Harry said as his eyes fell to a bust that had a sparkly, silver diadem with a huge blue stone in the middle on its head. Even with a good twenty yards between himself and the diadem, he could feel the slick malevolence vibrating off of it. The snakelings vibrated with it, hissing in agitation and poking their heads out of his sleeves and collar to see what was causing their unease. "He's got experience with defending me from evil things, and that thing over there is definitely evil. Uh, Dobby?"

A loud crack shook the shelves around Harry as the house elf appeared in front of the small group, both hands stuck out threateningly.

"What be Harry Potter sir doing here!" Dobby screeched.

"We were just having a look," Harry said.

Dobby puffed up like an angry blowfish. "There be terrible evil spirit thing here!"

"Romy be keeping distance," Romy screeched right back. "Romy be knowing what she be doing!"

"You be too close. Horrible blinky crown be feeling like horrible ugly locket Dobby be finding in Harry Potter sir's father's house!"

"What?" Harry cried. "Really?!"

"Dobby be knowing only too well." Dobby raised his hands and pushed out a wave of magic. The bust promptly crumbled to dust and the diadem was engulfed in what seemed to be a soap bubble. It slowly sank towards the ground, all the while vibrating and giving off sparks. "Dobby not be leaving it here where it be able to hurt Harry Potter sir! Beanie open that box!"

Together, the elves lowered the glittering, wriggling diadem into a heavy jewellery box and slammed it shut. At once, the other elves pitched in, throwing their magic at it to seal it until the malevolent feeling finally started to leave Harry's flesh and bones.

"Whew, that thing is disgusting. Thanks, you guys," Harry croaked. He sagged to his knees and rubbed his hands over his face. "What now?"

"Dobby be taking it to Gringotts," Dobby said decisively. "This not be staying at Hoggywarty! Goblins be taking away the stain! If blinky crown survives, Hoggywarty can have it back."

Romy made to protest. "Horrible blinky crown be belonging to Ravenclaw, Dobby. You not be taking it away from Hoggywarty!"

"And evil, nasty spirit in horrible blinky crown be belonging to the Dark One," Dobby snarled. "Dobby not be leaving it with allies!"

With that he popped away, the sealed box as well as Beanie following promptly.

For a few seconds there was only silence in the suddenly very eerie hall. All the elves' breaths were hitching.

"Oh, please don't cry," Harry begged. He shook off the last of the paralysis and rubbed their arms. "You meant no harm, and you couldn't have known. Dobby took care of it, and he isn't angry at you."

"Dobby be very angry," the smallest of the five remaining elves whimpered. "If horrible blinky crown indeed be holding spirit of the Dark One, we be needing to apologize. And iron our ears and toes!"

Romy straightend her petite figure. "Romy be accepting punishment for endangering Harry Potter sir. Hoggywarty be failing her students. It be unacceptable."

"No." Harry scrambled to his feet. "Absolutely not. Don't you get it? We got lucky!" All the snakelings slithered off him and to the distraught elves, who picked them up for a cuddle.

"Romy should have known that the Dark One be cursing Ravenclaw's horrible blinky crown," Romy replied, a stubborn set to her jaw.

"How?" Harry countered. "You haven't felt Voldemort's spirit before, have you?"

Romy and her friends reluctantly shook their heads.

"See? To you, that thing was just one cursed item of many," Harry said. "A bad one, granted, but you were prepared to keep me away from it. Doesn't that mean that you've more than fulfilled your duty?"

"Harry Potter sir be too generous," one of the elves muttered. "We not be allowing Potter elves to see all of Hoggywarty. The horrible blinky crown be gone sooner if we had."

"Hey, it's all fine," Harry said. "Beanie noticed, and I called Dobby, and Dobby took it away. That's all that matters. There might be more of those things hidden, though, so maybe a search would be good. And, er, maybe you can now get rid of everything else that's somehow dangerous? Might be bad if someone not very nice stumbles upon all of this and decides to use it."

"Hoggywarty elves be doing that immediately," Romy decided. "Romy not be tolerating anymore of those horrible spirit things! Gringottsy goblins be dealing with cursed trash! Romy be asking Dobby how to let goblins have it."

Harry nodded, only to flinch and scowl. "I totally forgot: will you need the headmaster's permission?" he asked.

Romy snorted. "Last order from Dumblydore be to keep junk out of hallways. He be wanting to keep money and blinky things, but he be knowing that this be forbidden. Dumblydore not be knowing about anything else. Hoggywarty not be wanting him here. Elves be knowing that Hoggywarty not be a big fan."

"Okay. That's good, at least. Er, if the goblins need help getting all this stuff out of here, they can ask the Potter elves. They'll be happy and I know I'll sleep better knowing that Voldemort is truly gone from Hogwarts." Harry blew out a long breath. "Man, I so wasn't prepared for this."

"We be glad the stain be gone now," the smallest of the elves offered. "We not be liking coming here for long. It be cluttered, but we not clean up because of evil dark stuff everywhere. It be stressful, shameful house elf secret."

"Not much longer," Romy soothed him and patted the little head with motherly care. "Harry Potter sir be making it better now."

"Actually it's all you," Harry told them. "I didn't lift a finger." He wiggled his little finger and smiled. "Not even this one, see?"

The elves giggled quietly and the tears in their eyes thankfully dried. With a snakeling around their necks each and Romy in the lead, they took Harry to an area that was absolutely free of cursed things and told him little stories about the items' history. As Harry finally tore himself away from the many trinkets, the fourth class of the day was long over and he remembered that he had wanted to urgently write to Sirius.

With a short step outside the Come And Go Room the seemingly endless junkyard vanished and his little study appeared.

"Thank god," Harry murmured. "All that stuff was making me nervous."

"Romy be bringing tea," Romy said. "Ten minutes."

She and her friends popped away quietly, the snakelings suddenly back in Harry's pockets, and Harry closed and locked the door before slumping into the comfortable desk chair. For a few minutes, he just tried to appreciate the fact that yet another one of Tom Riddle's abominations had been found. It was strangely funny that it had lain among the junk of countless students, many of them mundane-born.

It's time that we put you in the dustbin of history, Tom, Harry thought. Maybe Sirius has an idea where to look next.

With a deep sigh, he pulled the journal out of his bag, opened the magically provided ink pot on the desk and dipped in his quill. It was a good thing that Romy would be bringing tea because he foresaw a lengthy conversation with his new father.

oOo

Saturday brought the first deviation in many weeks for Harry, and for Hermione as well, since she was with him when Professor McGonagall found him after their morning exercise.

"Mr. Potter, do you have a few minutes to spare?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Miss Granger may come with, if you like."

"You can go on to the library," Harry told her. "I'll meet you there."

"I think I'd like to join you, actually," Hermione said. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're quite welcome. This way, please."

Professor McGonagall led them to Professor Lupin's classroom, where Lupin and Flitwick were greeting them.

"I promised you extra lessons to better your chances in a fight," Professor McGonagall said, "and as you can see, Professors Flitwick and Lupin have agreed to help me. It's quite fortuitous that Miss Granger came along, as she'll probably have need of advanced defence and evading techniques as well."

"Unfortunately it is not a secret that some of the students rather dislike having a muggle, er, sorry, mundane-born student best them in class," Professor Flitwick said. "You being one of Mr. Potter's closest friend certainly doesn't help."

"It'll be my pleasure to teach you both effective ways to defend yourselves," Lupin said with a smile. "And before you expect fancy or obscure spells, let me tell you up front that easy does it nearly every time."

Harry nodded eagerly, while Hermione frowned a little.

Professor McGonagall crossed the room and tapped her wand to the blackboard. "This is our syllabus ... such as it is. One part will be learning easy, effective spells that can be used in any number of threatening scenarios. One part will be learning how to act quickly, creatively, and effectively in threatening situations. And one part will be learning to determine the threat level, so you may act accordingly and with a minimum of effort and force. We will also teach you wizarding law as it pertains to self-defence, although it helps that you both are already being represented by a law wizard."

"If you're alright with it, we'd like to meet every Saturday at ten-thirty," Lupin continued. "We'll work for an hour and give you a list of books to read. Don't worry, it's nothing overly demanding. At your age, variety and creativity are definitely your best bets, so be prepared for lots of practical work."

"Okay," Harry said, elbowing Hermione when she opened her mouth. "Where will we start?"

"How about beginning with a couple of easy charms, then on to the laws about self-defence, and lastly a few short practical scenarios?" Professor Flitwick smiled. "It's all well and good to have a varied spell repertoire, but it won't be of much use if you're frozen with shock during an attack. Now, let's start with one of the easiest spells around, the tripping charm. You know how it works? Then show me ..."

For an impromptu lesson, it was surprisingly fun, Harry decided after all five of them played the magical version of dodgeball, trying to trip each other up while evading attacks. He and Hermione stood no chance against Professor Flitwick, who apparently was still a feared master in the duelling community. He was impossibly light on his feet and quicker than a striking snake. Professor Lupin admirably held his own - until Professor McGonagall decided to gang up on him with Flitwick. Then she and Flitwick duked it out, with Flitwick emerging as the victor.

"That was fun," Professor Flitwick exclaimed, rubbing his hands. "Next week, we'll do that again, only differently. I have so many ideas, children!"

Lupin handed Hermione and Harry a chocolate frog each. "In this room, you quickly need to get over your natural respect for adults, because that's what led to your early elimination. Death Eaters and most other attackers will be adults, and unlike us they won't be inclined to go easy on you."

"We'll work on it," Hermione promised.

Harry suspected that, despite her initial respect for their teachers, Hermione was already very good at being able to beat up an adult. She had a black belt in martial arts, after all, and her teachers had to have been adults.

"Good. It's almost time for lunch," Professor McGonagall said after a glance at her pocket watch. "Run along and get a good meal in. Doing so much magic will require you to eat proper amounts of food."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione promised. To Flitwick she said, "Can we really keep those books? I noticed that they're from your personal collection."

Professor Flitwick smiled broadly. "I insist, my dear. Keep them for as long as necessary. I'd also like for you to reread those law texts every now and then. There won't be a quiz, but you should really know how far you can safely go in any given situation. We'll also do scenarios with that aspect to give you a proper feel for it."

"If we're going to train you into becoming a paranoid little shit, we might as well do it properly," Lupin said with a little grin.

"Language, Remus," Professor McGonagall admonished the man, only to follow it up with, "He's right, of course. Our society is far from perfect; it might pay off to know how to game it. Just look at what they did to poor Sirius Black."

"You believe him, Professor?" Harry asked.

Professor McGonagall looked at him for a long moment. "Yes, I do. And I can hardly remember why I didn't; he was always so loyal to James, and he loved you fiercely when you were a wee little bairn."

"I think you do know why you forgot," Harry answered quietly.

"Yes," she agreed after a pause, lips tightening a little. "And it won't happen again."

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "As I've been fully informed about the headmaster's ... extracurricular activities, I'd like to assure you of my support. Minerva, Remus and I have already made a pact of regular mutual health checks. At least once a week each one of us will completely dispel all magic on the others. I hope that this will ease your mind at least a little."

"It does," Hermione said, "but I'm a little concerned that the headmaster will figure out your schedules."

"I assure you that we're as random as can be," Professor McGonagall said.

"And I have no doubt that you'll do your best," Hermione replied. "But ... since you're busy with students most of the day, your checks will, out of necessity, be rather predictable. I'm afraid that the headmaster might catch you all at once." She crossed her arms over her chest and suppressed a shiver. "That'd be horrible."

Professor Lupin smiled a little self-deprecatingly. "Well, I can't say you aren't right, Hermione. But we're still more than you were in the beginning, and that's worth something."

"It is," Harry said. "It really is. Thank you for believing Professor McGonagall, and us, I guess. It means a lot that someone is listening to us now."

"I can only apologize for my behaviour these last two years," Professor McGonagall said, voice curiously sharp. "I can safely say now that I haven't been quite myself, and letting my guard down when I knew that Riddle wasn't really dead was stupid."

"Were you able to get a magical signature?" Hermione asked.

"Yes." Professor McGonagall straightened even further. "A friend with the Unspeakables in the Ministry owed me a favour. It was indeed Dumbledore, which caused quite an outburst."

"And rightly so, my dear," Flitwick said, patting her arm. "We won't give Dumbledore another chance to addle your mind; the safety of the students is paramount."

"Hogwarts should have been closed after the first incident with the basilisk last year," Lupin said. "I'm still not over that."

"Neither am I," Professor Flitwick admitted. "I still can't for the life of me remember why we didn't do it."

"You were spelled too?" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "But ... how?"

"How indeed," Flitwick said. He looked pensively at the two teenagers. "You must suspect by now that I have someone non-human in my family."

"I suspected dwarf or goblin," Hermione confessed in a small voice.
"Indeed, my great-grandmother was a goblin. Maybe you already know then that goblins are notoriously hard to memory-charm. Nothing short of an Imperious will stick for longer than a week or so, which means ..."

"Which means that Dumbledore has regularly fudged around with the whole faculty for months, if not years," Hermione completed Flitwick's sentence. "That's awful! That's ... that's rape! He took away your free will!"

"He did," Professor Flitwick said gently. "And he'll pay for it. Minerva and I are collecting as much evidence as we can; thankfully some memories are coming back, now that his mind magic no longer prevents our brains from working properly. Madam Bones is, of course, already informed and firmly in our corner. We're working to get the other professors out of Dumbledore's thrall as well. The aurors will act as soon as it is safe to do so."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered. She sank into a chair Harry helpfully summoned for her. "I can't ... I can't believe that I've ever admired him."

"You've known for a while that he wasn't the person he presented to the world," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't understand your reaction."

"I do," Harry said, rubbing Hermione's tense shoulders. "It isn't about just me or Professor McGonagall anymore. He committed terrible crimes for a long time and hurt a lot of people. Heck, Ginny almost died because he kept me and Ron from finding a teacher other than Lockhart."

"Don't forget that you nearly died as well! And what about the completely inadequate riddles to protect the bleeding Philosopher's Stone," Hermione snapped. "Dumbledore knew Quirrel was possessed, didn't he? He wanted Harry to meet Quirrelmort, nothing else makes sense."

McGonagall mouthed 'Quirrelmort' at the other two professors, who looked just as taken aback.

"And now he'll probably go to Azkaban and be guarded by dementors," Hermione finished, eyes filling with tears. "Or worse, not, because he's too powerful and flees. I don't feel safe here anymore."

"Come here," Harry mumbled and pulled her into a hug.

"Er, it's probably not the right time to mention that Dumbledore still has a lot of friends in high places," Lupin said carefully. "I'd like to be honest with you two ... I don't think that he'll be tried and convicted anytime soon. Character witnesses play a huge role in such affairs, and unfortunately nearly all of Magical Britain will probably testify on Dumbledore's behalf. He won't need to battle his way out then."

"Not helpful," Harry told him with a little glare.

"Sorry. I didn't want to lie to you," Lupin sighed.

"I say that's a discussion for another time," Professor Flitwick said. "Lunch has already started and I for one really don't wish to diminish your appetite even further."

Downcast, Hermione allowed Harry to lead her to the Great Hall where some of their friends were already waiting.

"What't wrong, Hermione?" Lavender asked promptly.

"Just some not so good news," Hermione mumbled. "Thanks for asking, though." To distract her and Parvati, she asked, "Have you thought about what to do for Potions? Will your parents get a tutor? It's only one more week until the Snape Scorcher ... Snape might be gone soon after."

"Well, our parents are certainly looking," Parvati said. "Ideally, we'd like to find someone who's willing to teach larger groups so we can have the rest of our yearmates with us ... except the idiots, of course." She grinned slyly. "You think Zabini would switch? Padma sort of likes him, and I have to say that he's not bad for a Slytherin."

"You can certainly ask," Hermione offered, "although your tutor might have to top Tuva, and that'll be hard to do."

"I know, she's fantastic," Lavender groaned. "She even agreed to write small companion pieces to Neville's Herbology tips. Zabini probably has a crush on her. I have a crush on her."

"They might just hire a competent teacher," Harry interjected, popping a piece of saltimbocca alla romana into his mouth. "If that happens, Tuva might no longer be needed."

"You think your father would fire her?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't want her to go, but if she's not needed, she could go back to her actual work. I know she did it as a favour to him."

"Aren't you special," Ron sneered.

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione tossed at the boy. "Harry, if your dad won't employ her once Snape is sacked, I will."

Harry grinned. "Can I join that class?"

"I'll think about it," Hermione teased, mood a little better already.

"Hey, Harry, you weren't at breakfast earlier and probably missed the Prophet," Neville said as he sat down across from Harry. "Have you seen Fudge's reply to Dumbledore's demand for a vote of no confidence yet?"

"No," Harry replied. "What was his reply?"

"He has called for an emergency Wizengamot session, it's tomorrow morning." Neville pulled the paper from his robes and handed it over to Hermione. "Sorry to ruin your appetite, but the Minister is very eager, it seems. Your dad needs to prepare for this."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said.

During lunch, Harry and Hermione read the paper from cover to cover, Hermione fuming about the dumbness of it all. This fury was shared by Lavender, who couldn't quite believe to what lows the Ministry was forcing the reporters of the newspaper. Harry just felt numb.

"Reality sucks," he complained later as they walked around the Black Lake. "Sirius already told me what would happen, but now that it does, it's ten times worse. I'm worried sick."

"Do you know why people worry?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno, because they're afraid?" Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Uncle Vernon always says that worrying is for women and weak men."

"Well, that's hogwash, of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "Worry actually has a biological function, otherwise we wouldn't have evolved that way."

"What good can it be? I just feel dreadful."

Hermione nudged him with her shoulder in silent commiseration. "Scientists have discovered that worrying prepares us for unpleasant events in the future. Through worrying, we go through different scenarios and discover how we'll probably react to them. That way, we've already had a taste and the impact doesn't hit us as hard, and we'll probably also decide on the least harmful course of action to ensure our survival. A lot of the time, anyway. I don't think being afraid for family ever loses its horror, but for more mundane things it definitely applies."

"I don't know ... my uncle was so afraid of meeting a wizard that he dragged us all over Britain and tried to hide on a small island during a storm." Harry paused. "I guess he couldn't find any positive outcomes."

"That's not exactly mundane, though," Hermione said with a little laugh. "I meant things like meeting the in-laws for the first time, or fearing forgetting things before going on a holiday trip, or maybe being late to an important meeting. People worry about those things and take measures to avoid the worst case scenarios. They order taxis in advance, they write packing lists, and they rehearse speeches. If it's worry about relationships, people talk to several friends to get as many different opinions as they can before making a decision. Worrying often prevents harmful levels of stress for the organism, even if prolonged worry has the same effect eventually." She smiled sheepishly. "Modern life has probably high-jacked this response, but the principle is still the same as it was ten-thousand years or so ago."

"Well, if put like that, I guess you're right. I do write packing lists," Harry conceded. "I'd never want to forget stuff at my relatives' house." He paused. "Is that why you've been studying like mad? Because the thought of possible failure was stressing you out more than all that studying?"

Hermione blushed. "My self-esteem was in the gutter when I got on the Hogwarts Express. Seriously. Studying and my martial arts classes were all I had, ever. It's calming, something I can control. And I'm good at it, unlike with people."

"You said, but I just can't imagine it," Harry said, stopping and stepping in front of her. "You're a great friend, why couldn't people see it?"

"You're nearly the only one," Hermione replied quietly. "You were the first person to ... to truly see me. To want to be my friend. The others trust you, that's why they can deal with me now, but you know how it was in the beginning. I was terrible, and they didn't like me because of it."

"Well, it's different now." Harry held Hermione's hands and gave them a long squeeze. "You're one of us, and we're lucky to have you because you're so smart and brave. We don't stay the same, 'Mione. We're growing, and I like the way we grow together."

"My mum was right, you've got terribly effective game, Harry James," Hermione said and threw her arms around Harry for a long kiss.

As he fell into it, Harry thought that befriending Hermione Granger had definitely been the best decision he'd ever made.

oOo

In the afternoon, Hermione took Harry down to the Chamber of Secrets and proudly presented her first batch of vitamin potion, brewed with Healer Spleenbash's recipe.

"They're looking just like they're supposed to, but I sent your healer a sample just in case. We promised, after all." Excitedly, Hermione unstoppered a vial and let Harry take a sniff. "It's peach-flavoured; I was a bit sick of strawberry after having them all summer."

"Smells really good," Harry said and smiled. "Sorry for not helping. We'll do the next batch together."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize," Hermione hastened to say. "It honestly was like part of your gift to me - just me and the work table and all the lovely ingredients. It was so good to just be here and explore everything." She smiled. "But it'll also be good to do this with you. Tuva's a great teacher, I'm sure we'll brew lots of good potions here."

"How many phials of the vitamin potion do you have?"

Hermione opened the storage cabinet and showed Harry the rows and rows of phials. "Eighty-two are in here. I sent one to Healer Spleenbash for testing and examined one myself, and the last is the one I'm still holding." She slotted it into the wooden holder and sighed with satisfaction. "The yield was quite a bit higher than expected because I forgot to consider the dosage. We're teenagers, not adults, to every dose was a quarter less, which gives us more days until we have to brew again."

"That's a good month covered for the two of us," Harry said. He closed the cabinet and watched it flash as the locking charm activated. "Good. I want to brew that one first before moving on if that's alright with you."

"Oh, that's no trouble at all." Hermione walked to her work station and took up the page with the instructions. "We can always do with more, especially during the winter, and practice makes perfect. We could do it now, if you don't have anywhere else to be. It only takes an hour and a half, prep included."

"Sure. I'm done with most of my homework, I'll do the rest tomorrow." Harry exchanged his student robe with a work robe that was spelled to repel poisons and fire. "Dusting runes first, right?" He ran his finger over the runes on his table, a spark of his magic lighting them up until they glowed. "Then the cleaning runes, just to be on the safe side."

Hermione watched him attentively, keeping quiet as Harry went through all the preparatory steps. Tuva's instructions were very clear and easy to follow, and when Harry moved on to Healer Spleenbash's recipe, he knew that he was doing a more than decent job preparing the necessary ingredients and placing them for easy access.

"You can talk to me, you know," Harry said with some amusement as the base of the potions was merrily bubbling away a bit later. "I mean, it's great that you're letting me work through it, but we don't have to be silent the whole time."

"What would you like to talk about?" Hermione asked, clearly relieved.

"About two extra pages for the Hogwarts Herald; Sharptooth said that Gringotts will approve them if you use them for articles about Sirius," Harry said.

"Well, of course! What should we write about?"

Harry extracted a folded page of lined paper from his vest pocket and handed it over. "This is everything about the ace Minister Fudge thinks he has up his sleeve. He'll talk about it tomorrow a bit, and we know that it's still a week until the new edition of the Herald comes out, but the public vote will only be in the middle of November. It might still do some good."

Hermione unfolded it, speed-read the text, and then stared at Harry. "Some good? Is this true?"

Grimacing, Harry nodded. "So true. I nearly puked when Sirius told me."

"I think I have to ..." Hermione turned away and dry heaved a couple of times. "Oh my god. Oh. God."

"Potter elf, please," Harry said. "Could we get some water, please?"

A moment later, Harry pressed a glass of water into Hermione's hands and asked, "Do you need a calming drought or something?"

"No." She took a long drink. "I need to kick the crap out of a certain old fool. But don't worry, the time for that will come. Until then I'll be satisfied with kicking in Dumbledore's figurative teeth."

"That's my girl," Harry joked.

"You know that this is an absolute fire accelerant," Hermione said, waving the page around. "This can't get out before the Herald is due on November 1st, not when an innocent man has already endured eleven years in Azkaban for it. We must do everything we can to stall people. How will we manage that? We can't demand an Unbreakable Vow from students, not even for this."

"That's why it'll have to be you, aside from a statement Sirius' law wizard will publish. It'll be sanctioned by the ICW and not hurt his case, but that'll the only thing on those two pages not written by you," Harry said.

"But it's too much," Hermione protested. "I'll steal everyone's thunder."

"They'll have to deal with it. Your writing is far better than mine, and I'm still banned from writing for the paper anyway. I shouldn't be doing it in the first place, because of bias and whatnot."

"Harry ..."

Harry held her hands and stared at her. "Will you please help us out? Write whatever you want and then send it directly to Sharptooth. No proof-reading, no asking for advice other than his. Sirius doesn't care if it's raw, he wants you to have this and give the Minister a proper kick in the nuts."

"The bloody Minister will get twenty!" Hermione hissed. "I can't believe what's going on in the magical world! Why are these people so ... so ugly! Ugh, fine, I'll do it. But you owe me. For every howler that's being sent, I'll kick your ass in training. Or better yet, I'll yell at you in French, finally get a start on that."

"Emigration sounds pretty good if you keep threatening me," Harry muttered. "And Sirius keeps telling me how great Italy is, so maybe I should just get it over with ..."

Hermione made a little wounded sound, fist clenching around her notes. "I'm not letting you leave without me, and we won't leave before we've set Magical Britain on fire, because most people here deserve having the seat lit up underneath their lazy bums." She took a deep breath and brushed over her dry cheeks. "Now excuse me, I've got half a dozen scathing articles to write." With some anger, she kissed him square on the mouth and then whirled around to stalk to her own table.

"Right. You do that, and I'll go back to my potion." Harry grinned as the timer he'd set with his wand went off. "Perfect. In you go, blue kelp ... two stirs widdershins ... and now deosil ..."

As Hermione furiously scratched out a thousand word essay on the stupidity of the Ministry of Magic, Harry added ingredients to his potion, stirred, watched, and double-checked the progress. An hour later he had a lovely red brew in his cauldron that smelled strongly of strawberries.

The bottling took some time, as it couldn't be done with magic without harming the properties of the potion, but Harry didn't mind the repetitive task. With his charmed ladle he didn't even spill a drop and when he was done, he had nearly ninety ruby red doses of the vitamin potion in front of him. Unlike the bottling itself, the labelling could be done with magic, and Harry made short work of putting stickers with the potion's name and brewing date on the glass phials.

"Oh, Harry, those look lovely!" Hermione exclaimed. She put her pen down and got up to examine one of the phials. "Can I open this one?"

"Of course. I think it smells alright, but I'll let Healer Spleenbash decide."

Hermione pulled the stopper from the phial and sniffed carefully. "Oh, you're right. Mmmh, delicious! I hope it's fine; I'd love to have one right now."

"Didn't you say that you were fed up with the strawberry taste?" Harry asked.

Hermione huffed. "I changed my mind."

Pleased, Harry preened a little. "Thanks, 'Mione. We'll get it checked out and have it with waffles on Tuesday, if you still want it then. Potter elf please." He grinned when Beanie appeared. "Hey, Beanie! How are you doing after your adventure yesterday?"

"Beanie be just fine, Dobby and fierce goblins be managing everything. What can Beanie do for Harry Potter sir?" Beanie squeaked eagerly.

"I need you to drop this potion off at Gringotts, it's for Healer Spleenbash." Harry handed the little elf one of the phials.

"Beanie be going at once," Beanie promised. After a wary glance at Hermione, he added, "But Beanie be back soon for report."

With that he popped away.

"What report?" Hermione promptly asked.

"Er, can I say that it needs to stay confidential for now?" Harry asked. "It's stuff that shouldn't get out ... but I'll tell you as soon as I can."

Hermione sighed quietly. "I understand. I don't like it, because I'm too curious for my own good, but I understand. Besides, I know about Slytherin's secret library, and that's pretty perfect for a bookworm like me."

"I can tell you about that, at least," Harry said, excitement rising inside of him. "Sharptooth, Sirius, and Brady have crafted a contract for parselmouths to get all those books translated. The contract's super strict because we just don't know what sort of spells and potions Slytherin has put in there, but whatever's good will be published one day."

"Really?" Hermione cried. "Oh, Harry! That's wonderful! I can't wait to read them!"

"Yes, well, apparently the contract is too restrictive for most parselmouths to accept, but Sharptooth got two hired for now and they're all over the one journal I gave Sharptooth."

"Did they say how it is to read something that old?" Hermione questioned with shining eyes. "Can they even read it?"

Harry thought she looked absolutely lovely in her excitement. "They say it's hard, because parseltongue apparently evolves just like any other language, and the journal is about experimental potions for everyday use, but Sharptooth says that they're enjoying themselves a lot and can't wait for the other books. He also implied that the two wizards will try to recruit more parselmouths to our cause."

"I so wish I could speak the language; the work must be incredibly fascinating."

"We can go visit," Harry offered. "I haven't been there for a couple of weeks, I'm sure Audovera is rather bored."

"Right, that's the guardian's name." Hermione kissed Harry's cheek. "You always know how to cheer me up. Let's go!"

They clambered up to the hidden chamber and had a little talk with Audovera, who was glad for the company.

"Your small friends haven't seen me since your last visit," she said. "You should bring me more snakes for visits. I haven't really spoken to one since the basilisk went insane."

"I can do that," Harry answered, fighting down the bubble of shame over the basilisk's ignominious death. "I have four with me right now, two of whom you already know, and they might want to have a little adventure. I'll send a house elf to keep watch since they're so young."

"Acceptable. Send them to me soon. I'll also keep watch and make sure that no harm befalls them, young Master."

"Thank you. Audovera's hidey-hole!"

Bolts unlocked, a sharp, slithering sound rasped through the quiet chamber, and finally the heavy door swung open.

Just like the last time, a sweep of magic cleaned the dust away and a fire ignited in the fireplace of the spacious library. Unbidden, a tray with tea and cakes popped up on the low table between the two armchairs.

"It's just as magical as it was the first time," Hermione whispered reverently. Cautiously, she stepped inside and let her fingers trail softly over leathery book spines. "May I look for English texts, Harry?"

Harry admired her as she admired the gold-embossed books. He didn't want to break the spell of quiet wonder for her and murmured, "Of course you can. Why don't we collect those on the table here? I might be able to copy them and take them to Sharptooth for safekeeping. Getting those transcribed will probably be easy in comparison to the parseltongue books."

"Do you think there'll be some great secrets inside? Something profound and even world-changing?" Hermione asked, already pulling the first book from the shelf and opening it carefully. "This is full of squiggles, pity."

"I don't know," Harry said honestly, "but it'll be fun to find that out. Besides, Brady says that studying old spells and potions could give us hints for new developments, so there's that. Did I tell you that he found a Luna Potion in the copy I sent him? He said the recipe reads like an early version of the Wolfsbane Potion, the stuff Professor Lupin gets from Snape."

"Huh, really?" Hermione halted mid-grab and stared at Harry. "Is it any good?"

"No idea, Brady won't brew anything until his translation has been confirmed by a specialist. But he's super excited about it."

"I bet he is. The modern Wolfsbane Potion was invented in the seventies; it'd be amazing to compare the ingredients and properties."

They searched through the first whole shelf, discussing what little Harry had been able to decipher in the copied parsel journal, before giving up.

"Maybe we'll find one next time," Harry consoled his disappointed girlfriend. "Or ... or I could try summoning one. I'm an idiot."

"The Summoning Charm isn't exactly on the third year curriculum, and who knows what protections Slytherin has put up," Hermione said. "But if it works, I'll ... I'll probably kiss your feet. Seriously."

Quirking an amused brow at Hermione's badly controlled excitement, Harry let his wand snick into his palm and said, "Accio English books!"

Nothing happened and for a second Harry wondered if he'd made a mistake, or if there really weren't any books that weren't written in parseltongue.

Maybe Slytherin didn't want anyone to read his stuff in the olden days, Harry thought. And if he did, he might have wanted to make it so only certain people can without using something weird. Could have simply used something other than English.

"Oh," he murmured out loud, "That could work. Accio books not in parseltongue!"

About three dozen books promptly began to wiggle out of the shelves and shot towards Harry and Hermione. With his quick reflexes, Harry managed to catch five, and the rest got stopped by Hermione's quick, "Arresto momentum!"

"Where did you learn that one?" Harry asked a little breathlessly, eyeing the hovering swarm of books warily.

Hermione directed the books to their designated table where they docilely sorted themselves into neat stacks. "Well, with the way you insist on chasing that ridiculous golden snitch, I had to find a way to catch you when - not if - you fell off your broom again."

An uncontrollable grin broke out on Harry's face. "Why, thank you! I feel so much safer now!"

"That was before I knew you had a small house elf army to save your butt," Hermione pouted. "I hope the thought counts because I really, really want to read one of those babies now."

"Aw, you don't need to do stuff for me to give you books. Let's find out whether they're even readable. They're clearly not written in English, are they?"

Hermione sighed. "Right. I should've known that the language wouldn't have been called 'English' back in the Founders' day. We call it Old English, but they certainly didn't. You do the honours, Harry."

"Okay ..." Harry opened the book at the top of the stack and tried to decipher the handwritten words. After only a minute of frowning and squinting he gave up. "Er, no. Not a chance. That's not parseltongue, but it still reads like gibberish, and if I tried to speak it, I'd probably summon a demon. Maybe you've got better luck."

Hermione accepted the book. Soon, her eyebrows were rising, and her mouth pursed in obvious frustration. "No, you're right, that's some form of English, but it's nearly as bad as the parseltongue. I can read the individual letters, but nothing makes sense. I think there's even a third gender in there, and at least one case I've never seen before. Sharptooth and his team will have all the pleasure of getting that translated." She paged through the book and her eyebrows rose even further. "Good lord, farther back are even runes."

"You can read every book they translate," Harry promised. "Every single one."

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled. "I don't mean to be an ungrateful brat. This is a treasure and I'm beyond glad it fell to you. It's a privilege to even be able to hold them and look inside."

"Thanks, though you aren't a brat. I'm also curious, I just try not to let it get to me. Gringotts is doing its best. Do you know the copying spell already?" At Hermione's small nod, Harry squeezed her hand for a moment. "You can help me make copies, then, and keep one to investigate. Who knows, maybe you'll discover a translation spell somewhere."

"If it were that easy, we wouldn't need all that cloak and dagger stuff," she sighed. "But yes, of course I'll help."

"Well then ... exscribio haec," Harry said, waving his wand over his book. It promptly duplicated, the copy falling into Hermione's waiting hands.

"You spoke parseltongue," Hermione told him, staring at the book. "What spell did you use? It looks incredibly alike."

"Oh, sorry! Er, it was exscribio haec. All my spells work much better when I cast them in parsel."

Hermione judged him with her unimpressed look. "That won't ever be not interesting, but honestly? You're using haec? As in, this? That's just sloppy."

"Hey, it works," Harry defended himself, flushing a little. "And every time, too. You won't change my mind. Besides, Professor Flitwick told me that he's doing it this way because it's quicker, and harder for others to undo his spells. Remember the prank war the teachers are having during the Christmas holidays; Flitwick's giving the others so much grief because of that little tweak."

"You're both such boys," Hermione huffed, but then she laughed. "You're also geniuses. But let me be clear: if you copy my notes without asking, or worse, disillusion them to tick me off, you won't find your crown jewels until we've graduated from Hogwarts. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied with a cheeky grin. "Do you know what this means, though? We can both make sure that Ron won't find our notes or other important stuff. And you can also make copies as needed without ruining your hand with writing, and prevent copies from being made."

Hermione cradled the book lovingly. "Plus, I might be able to copy books from the school library. I'll have to find out if they have been treated with copy prevention charms first, like the books at the International Wizarding Library, but if they haven't, I won't have to wait ages for them to become available and can just nab a copy when it's convenient." Her eyes nearly crossed with bliss. "Can you imagine?"

"It would certainly spare your book budget even more," Harry needled her. "I thought the IWL was good?"

"It is, but the waiting," Hermione moaned. "They have waiting lists, too, you know."

Shaking his head, Harry muttered, "I don't know where your brain puts all the things you gobble up, and it's a wonder you haven't tried to raid the school library before."

"I was busy with the books I've bought after receiving Hector's inheritance. As to where I put it ... one word: occlumency. Harry ..." Hermione put her book down and shook Harry a little. "My memory was already good, but after only a couple of weeks of doing the exercises, it's so much more. There are colours to my thoughts now, and smells, and even vibrations - it's incredible. Occlumency might amplify my natural gift, but it stands to reason that you'd profit from it as well. Significantly even. Won't you try it? I want you to experience this for yourself."

"I promised I would," Harry sighed, "but the time. I already don't have enough time if I want to relax every now and then."

"Just five minutes of meditation every day, that's all for now," Hermione pressed. "You do it on Tuesdays and Saturdays already. It's not hard, I promise. I'll even copy the book and give you back the original. I should have done that already anyway."

"Before you do that, let's copy the other books for Sharptooth," Harry said. "And don't be mad, but let's do a few test runs on your copy first, before moving on to thousand year old books of indeterminable value."

"I'll do all the test runs you want," Hermione countered promptly, "because it's me that wouldn't be able to live with it if I somehow destroyed several thousand year old books of indeterminable value." She shuddered. "I'd throw myself off the Astronomy Tower if that happened, and I'm not kidding even a little bit."

"Let's not tempt fate, then." Harry flicked his wand and cast the spell in parseltongue at the next book on the stack, producing a beautiful copy. A little wistfully he said, "If it wouldn't give the game away, I'd cast everything in parsel."

"Understandable," Hermione said, drawing her wand. "Okay, let me try ... Exscribio haec!"

Her copy of the book twitched a little as her magic hit it, and another dublicate formed. It wasn't half as tangible in colour and weight as Harry's copy, and the writing within looked a little fuzzy.

"That's barely legible," Hermione sighed, tossing the copy to the ground. "This might take a while to get right. How about I'll work on this one and you get the others copied? The sandwiches and tea cakes over there are starting to look really good, and I don't want to torture us."

Knowing that he didn't need to hold her hand, Harry easily agreed and used the spell on the waiting books. Every time he did that, Hermione watched his wand movement, and every time she tried afterwards, the resulting copy looked better than the one before.

Finally, when Harry was done with the stack, Hermione proudly presented her own work. Her obvious enjoyment of her accomplishment led to Harry kissing her smiling mouth, which led to their first full-on snogging session. There would be time later to teach her the blood-bonding spell to secure the copy.

It was a good thing the house elves had spelled the tray to keep the tea and food fresh.

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End of part 18