Ashes in your Mouth
Chapter Six: Slytherin to Hogwarts
Where being famous is hardly important at all, and being an adult is terrible. Time to go back to school.
Harry finally got around to going to the cupboard labelled The College of Arms at the Ministry.
One old clerk who looked on the verge of expiring sat in it, behind a counter.
Harry handed over the scroll from St Mungos with his bloodline on it.
"Oh.. you're… golly, the Slytherin. How amazing" said the Clerk. He painstakingly turned pages in a giant ledger, found a page and wrote a line in.
"We'll do a proper letter up and mail to you, you, your um, Slytherin-ness." said the Clerk.
"I don't want this getting out. I'm not a fan of publicity" said Harry.
"Er, that'll be three galleons, for the letter" said the clerk, biting his lower lip.
Harry went to set off fireworks show at the Greengrasses, for Astoria's engagement to Harry's cousin; the death eater one. Harry hadn't been invited but Kettle had come to set the fireworks off.
After aligning the crate, he asked their resident fire-works enthusiast who'd hovered.
"Heiress Greengrass, can I see the interior of your house? I'm trying to learn about curtains rugs and decorations." asked Harry.
Daphne sighed "I suppose so, it's ages till dark, and everyone's in the ballroom."
Harry explained about wanting to see parlours and bedrooms, and got a wand drawn on him at that "No funny business, Kettle" she said.
Harry nodded, and they toured bits of the house.
Until Daphne's mother came into the parlour Daphne was showing Kettle.
Daphne's Mother apparently assumed Daphne was carrying on. She blinked a bit, then said in her accent "Well, Kettle's connected to a good family, I suppoze. And you are the heiress, so a wizard with no surname is useful there. I'll just leave you two love-birds to it" she said and left the room.
Daphne was speechless, and Harry felt more embarrassed than the time Mrs Weasley caught him with his hand up Ginny's shirt.
"That went very badly" said Harry.
"Not if you had three titles, and a castle. You're an obnoxious drunk." said Daphne Greengrass, blushing.
"I'm cutting back" admitted Harry "Saves money."
"So what do you think of these curtains?" asked Daphne Greengrass, pointing them out.
"They're okay" said Harry noncommittally.
"Surely you must have some preferences" complained Daphne Greengrass.
"I need to see more rooms, different styles. I've seen very little" admitted Harry.
"Well… I suppose you should go tour everyone's manors. Go visit, express an interest in design, get shown around. You'd have to write some letters. Just basic visiting courtesies. Potter-Black is famous, most people would show you around." said Greengrass.
"Which everyones?" asked Harry. "And what's a visiting courtesy?"
"Ask your aunt Andromeda." said Daphne Greengrass, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Word had got back to George somehow that Kettle had been seen inside the Greengrass house.
George pulled Harry into the back room "What was Kettle doing inside the Greengrasses house?"
he asked.
"Greengrass was showing me her curtains and carpet" said Harry.
George nodded "did they match?" he asked.
"I'll have to see more to really get a taste for it" admitted Harry.
George dropped it at that with an odd stare at Harry. George was a weird bloke.
Aunt Andromeda had organised some Harry Potter-Black visits to families she thought might have interesting décor, and wouldn't try to murder Harry as soon as he got out of the fireplace. Aunt Andromeda demanded more baby-sitting in exchange for the letter writing.
The first organised visit was very awkward, to the Smiths.
Zach had been his tour guide, with Zach's mother helpfully supplying details, all going into Harry's notebook. There'd been a weird bit when the very old-fashioned quartered decorative shield over the fireplace shuddered and dust fell off it. It looked oddly like a Hogwarts crest.
"Earthquake?" asked Harry.
"It's been in the family forever and it's never done that" said Zach. "So probably an earthquake."
Some families had a thing about having embroidered curtains with metallic threads. It looked interesting, but expensive. And… that it suited the manor.
While Harry had very little free time, still working at two jobs, his savings slowly grew as the year went on.
Then this year's tax bill came from the ministry.
And Harry was again charged hundreds of galleons in ministry administration fees.
Polite enquiries at the ministry in uniform as to what "ministry administration fees" were, had Harry seeing red. When the ministry was short of money to run all the departments, every family that was registered as "Ancient and Noble" got billed for it. It was, as far as Harry could tell a money-making scheme for the ministry, pandering to the now dead Blacks, and other sacred Twenty-Eight families that wanted to take on airs. Harry really didn't want to keep paying for it and made enquiries by internal memo about terminating the Black families "Ancient and Noble" membership.
'To: Department of finance
From: Harry Potter Black
Re: Black family Ancient and Noble status
How do I get the Black family off that list.
'
Off went the Harry's paper aeroplane, while Harry concentrated on trying to work out where the smugglers were port-keying in such large quantities of muggle drugs.
Hours later, Harry got a paper plane back.
'To: Auror Potter
From: Department of finance
Re: Personal inquiry re Ancient and Noble family status.
Your request is both personal, and unprecedented.
We understand that you are a very busy Auror.
Ministry memos are for official purposes only.
There is no way to not be Ancient and Noble.
Thought your attempt to shirk the financial responsibilities of your heritage demonstrate how adopted heads of family are inappropriate.
'
Harry incinerated it after reading it. Bunch of stuck-up prats.
Then a chance to do some proper Auror-ing came along with a callout, and Harry got to apparate to a spell battle and blow some things up. And didn't even need to go to St Mungos afterwards. The paperwork was unavoidable. Dawlish gave him his typical 'I'm disappointed in you' look afterwards. Just because some wizards firing curses at Aurors got a bit splattered.
Harry got home tired that night, but went to bed fairly confident he'd have a short, nightmare free sleep, and be able to squeeze in a few hours of either Teddy time, or working for Weaseleys around the days or nights at work as an Auror.
Harry tried to remember, and suspected he had a few more galleons saved this year, than the year before, mentally tagging the remaining Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes dividends for the rugs and curtains. He'd seen half a dozen houses now, and decided he liked the idea of his study having plain dark red velvet curtains, and some red and gold rugs. Sirius would appreciate the statement.
A week later he got a quote for the curtains he wanted and was glad he'd kept to a frugal life-style. His study would be done, and he'd have blown a year's unpaid income from Weasleys.
Harry got an invitation to visit Longbottom Hall at his convenience by owl post that morning. Harry used his next free afternoon. Nev was a good bloke.
Neville's family home was a surprisingly large building. The decor was severe and a little dusty up high, but bits were certainly interesting. A parlour Neville's mother had used was quite charming really. Harry tried not to think about the last time he met Alice Longbottom at St Mungos, her vacant gaze.
"Harry?" asked Neville nervously.
Harry stopped looking at a curtain top-thingo. "Yeah what?" asked Harry.
"Would you um, be my best man at a wedding? My wedding, that is" said Neville.
Harry looked at Neville, round-faced and pleading "You're getting married, course I'll do it" said Harry.
"Oh… great" said Neville, looking a bit surprised. "It's just… you don't do the social stuff."
"Since Ginny and I, um… I haven't wanted to" said Harry. Neville blushed and nodded.
"Will you, um have a date?" asked Neville.
"Do I need one?" asked Harry "It's just I'm an Auror and I have another job, so I'm a bit busy to find a date."
"Will you be able to get time off?" asked Neville.
"The second job's flexible hours, I can just skip a day" said Harry reassuringly. "And I have my godson to look after. I baby sit him a day a week or so."
"Harry Potter, babysitter?" asked Neville. "I can't see it. You're… the Man Who –."
"You killed the giant snake, not me" interrupted Harry.
"Um… do you think I can get a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes show?" asked Neville.
"I know George. I can organise it, get a good rate" said Harry.
"Oh, I'm okay for money, we're both from respectable old families Harry, you know what I mean" said Neville.
Harry nodded. Conceptually, if not from personal experience.
"Um… it's Hannah Abbot, the Hufflepuff that I'm marrying" said Neville.
Harry nodded "Nice girl, liked you for a while?"
Neville nodded "We get on." he said with a soppy smile. Being Neville, he didn't launch into an hour-long recitation of Hannah's sterling characteristics. Harry decided he liked the quiet way Neville did stuff.
When Neville had a wedding rehearsal, it transpired it was Sue Bones was first Bridesmaid.
"Fancy seeing you here" said Susan, looking a bit less tired than last year "Neville pulled in favours eh?"
"Well being an Auror is a commitment" said Harry tightly.
"Oh I vaguely remember, my aunt dying in the job, so yes, I agree" said Susan.
Harry have Susan a curt nod at that. She was after all, working in DMLE prosecutions.
"If everyone would come to Malkins to get fitted for robes in the next week or so" said Hannah, looking a bit… wet thought Harry. He reminisced about his fiery ex-girlfriend.
It transpired Harry was getting a free second set of dress robes out of this.
He'd have three sets, counting the funerals set someone had scrounged up for him after the war ended.
Harry had to explain in a letter to Neville that he, Harry would set off the fireworks with 'some instructions from George Weasley.'
Neville's wedding was pleasant enough, Harry had to dance with Susan Bones as the bridesmaid and the best man, and before night fell, Harry got the fireworks box ready, and at a signal after dusk, set the lot off.
A typical Weasleys wheezes exhibit, with the exception that at the end, the fireworks needed a kick from Harry, and with his wand he tapped the right spot on the box, and George's little gift came to life.
A flaming Lion shot from the box and mauled a huge green snake, then strode over to kiss, nose to nose a badger, which caused a gigantic pink love-heart to appear.
"How twee" said Daphne Greengrass from behind Harry, and Harry jumped with surprise.
"What are you doing here?" asked Harry.
"Neville's a second cousin, maybe third. Anyway, Sacred twenty-eight, heiress, his year, I got an invite." said Daphne Greengrass "so you and Sue?"
"No, I'm here as Neville's best man, and I owe him. For the snake, and a lot of work he did." said Harry.
"So you're paying off your DA debts?" asked Daphne.
"Neville's a friend," he replied, and Greengrass asked "How did the second bit work? I've never seen a second bit?"
Harry showed her the runes on the outside of the box, under the paper cover, and pointed out the extra steel firework box inside the crate.
"A lot of work for a little display" said Daphne.
"We owe him, and it was funny. Lion kisses badger, big love heart." said Harry.
"And it mauled a snake, implying my old house. Us Slytherins get a rough deal." said Daphne.
"Well, I'm sure the students of Hogwarts Syltherin house are misrepresented as, for example, Slytherins. You aren't a parselmouth, for starters" said Harry, feeling a mental burr in his dignity.
"But you, the Gyffindor-est Gryffindor are a parselmouth" said Daphne. "How does that work?"
"If I want to talk to a snake, I can, and I can hear them reply in English" lied Harry. "They mostly listen to me."
"So they don't just do what you tell them?" said Daphne, not rising to Harry's bait this time.
"Well uncle Tom told one to kill me, so after that, all I could do was not die." said Harry drolly.
Greengrass blinked "How terribly dark family of you both" she said.
"Oh you have no idea, Miss Greengrass" said Harry.
"In second year, we all thought you were heir of Slytherin, after that incident" said Daphne Greengrass apologetically.
"It wasn't me doing the pertrifications, and I solemnly swear, I am not the heir of Slytherin." said Harry, almost snorting. Talking to this blonde was hilarious, on the inside. Harry had visions of flooing home and falling over laughing for hours. His mouth twisted.
"What are you up to?" asked Daphne Greengrass.
"Just saving a happy thought for later" said Harry, almost snorting.
"My mother wanted to know where Kettle got to" said Daphne Greengrass primly.
Harry could not keep it in any longer and snorted, breaking into intermittent giggles.
"It was not that funny!" protested Daphne Greengrass.
"Not just that, lots of things" said Harry, giggling.
"Get a hold on yourself Potter" said Daphne Greengrass, looking peeved. "Kettle came up because of fireworks for my sisters wedding. All the Sacred twenty-eight will be invited, and you'll come as Black."
Harry nodded "I suppose so" replied Harry "When will it be roughly? I'll organise a day off."
"The great Auror Harry Potter-Black who never does any family things" said Daphne.
"Well I wasn't invited to Draco's stags night" said Harry "Shame really, I can make a stag patronus" said Harry, with a polite smile.
"Um… you disowned Draco, and his mother, didn't you?" asked Daphne, pointedly ignoring that quality humour.
"Oh no, only four of us left, seemed a bit wasteful" said Harry.
"So… you're his head of family, practically, seeing his fathers in Azkaban, and Black outranks Malfoy" said Greengrass, clearly going somewhere with that.
"And?" asked Harry.
"He needs your permission to marry" said Daphne "Well, ceremonially."
"Do you want me to give it?" asked Harry "From experience, being related to him is awful, and it would imply he touched your sister."
Greengrass might have paled at that "Amusing as that might be, my sister… I think she loves him, and well... she's not well. She… isn't going to live that long really." she said, looking a bit teary by the end of that.
"I'll ask my Aunt about it" said Harry, in a serious tone. Daphne nodded.
"Is Draco being rude by not owling me about it?" asked Harry.
"Well as you never replied to any letters, I think everyone thinks you just don't reply to letters and doesn't bother owling you." said Daphne Greengrass.
"What?" asked Harry.
"You got… a lot of mail as a child you were famous and never replied" said Daphne. "It was a perennial thing in the Prophet, but Dumbledore gave a statement when you were ten, saying you couldn't reply for safety reasons."
"Yeah" thought Harry, probably to do with those blood protections again.
Greengrass wandered off to do whatever she did.
"Um Harry?" asked Ernie a bit later.
"Yeah Ernie?" asked Harry, gathering his thoughts.
"You and Daphne then?" asked Ernie.
"What?" asked Harry looking around for said witch "We were just talking."
"You two seemed really chummy about the fireworks box, and then that was a very animated conversation" said Ernie pointedly.
"Look Ernie… Her little sister is engaged to Malfoy, right. Well… he's family of mine through the Blacks, and I'm Black of Black… so… you know, traditional family stuff." explained Harry.
Ernie thought about Harry's almost coherent sentence for a bit.
"But you were laughing" said Ernie finally.
Harry shook her head "Something she said was funnier than she thought it was."
Ernie shook his head "You've clearly never seen her and Tracey Davis in full flight. Comedians. Tracey does the jokes and Daphne's the straight man."
"Huh?" asked Harry eloquently.
"Yule ball, birthday parties in 'the sacreds'." explained Ernie. "Everyone knows everyone."
Harry left the party mostly sober, and realising that the sacred-twenty eight (excepting the Weasleys) operated like a social club.
Aunt Andromeda dropped a bombshell as Harry was playing a game of aeroplane with three-ish year old Teddy in her kitchen.
"I think you need to resign from the Aurors" she said.
Harry held Teddy, no longer playing aeroplanes "Why?" Harry asked.
"You're getting a reputation, a bad one, for overuse of blasting curses" said Aunt Andromeda. "And you still don't have any NEWT's. You can't possibly still be broke and need to work there? And I would like to see you spend more time with Teddy in future, so I can go back to work. St Mungos don't have many healers left, and from the rumours I heard, you make more work for St Mungos than five other Aurors put together."
"I admit" said Harry politely "That I do tend to have less prisoner interrogations than other Aurors. It's perfectly legal."
"Harry dear, the war is over. You haven't stopped, and you need a break. You can take a year off, and go to Hogwarts, and get some NEWTs. Obviously I'd expect you to keep your hands off the children, but you're quite well-behaved in that regard." said Aunt Andromeda.
"I'm not rich" protested Harry "I need the money."
"How much Harry?" asked Aunt Andromeda.
"Finance hits the Blacks up for three hundred and fifty galleons a year, wizengamot administration fees to fill holes in their budget" admitted Harry.
"I'll give you four hundred, and pay for your school things. Consider it my overdue offer to get you some NEWTs." said Aunt Andromeda.
"Won't I need to pay Hogwarts or something?" asked Harry uncertainly.
"You are entitled to seventh year as you passed sixth. If there's an issue, I have enough from the LeStranges to not care." said Aunt Andromeda.
Harry stopped and thought about that "So… if you fail a year, does Hogwarts charge fees?"
"Don't be silly, your fees are paid by the ministry for one magical education. One per child. Of course if you'd had to repeat years, then the Headmaster might have asked for payment." said Aunt Andromeda. "So, are you going to humour your Aunt?"
Harry sighed and bobbed Teddy up and down "I suppose so" he said.
"It's terrifically annoying you not having a Gringotts vault" said Aunt Andromeda "I'll go get you a sack of galleons."
"I'll have to organise with the Department" said Harry.
Auror Potter had an idea while doing paperwork for a smuggling case; one of the suspects had two Gringotts vaults, one in his own name, the other an old family vault. And Harry had a letter showing he had an old family.
The Gringotts guard-Goblins folded their halberds down to bar his path into the bank.
"Halt thief" they said, and one blew a horn at his belt, making a dismal sound.
A suited Goblin came out and took one look at Harry and shrugged "Got an heir then?" they asked.
"Something else" said Harry, holding out his Slytherin letter from the College of arms so the Goblin could read it.
The goblin got his hooked nose quite close and read the declaration carefully.
"I'll have to look that up. Wait here" he said and went back into the bank.
Other customers were bypassing the guards.
"Aren't you worried about the other people going past you?" asked Harry.
"We only need to look out for very few known thieves." explained the guard Goblin. "The hardest part is that most humans look alike."
The suited Goblin arrived "Your ahem, family account was embargoed by the Ministry at the end of the war, Proceeds of crimes" said the suited goblin. "You cannot legally access the account". Oh, uncle Tom again, thought Harry, and he rolled up his letter and walked off.
As an Auror, he was already in DMLE. Unfortunately, he was an Auror, and was a bit … busy.
After a Wednesday spent in St Mungos with massive cuts all over his body, he had hospital food for dinner, slept in a hospital cot, and woke to potions for breakfast. He was let out of St Mungos after breakfast.
Aunt Andromeda owled Harry reminding him to write to the Headmistress of Hogwarts.
Harry's lunch break was cut into by sending a perfectly normal request to DMLE legal asking about the 'Proceeds of crimes' activities at the end of the war. He bolted a pie and a cup of tea from the cafeteria and got back to work afterwards only a tiny teeny bit late. Robards gave him a bollocking.
By evening, with Harry's shift showing no sign of ending, a letter came from DMLE legal explaining that all families associated with the death eater inner circle had their accounts frozen, until they could show they were in 'good repute.' A voluntary search of their home by the Auror office, and a clear report would put the family in 'good repute.'
The whole thing was years old now, but Harry filled in a letter, wedging the parchment between official paperwork and filling it in almost under Robard's nose. All he had to do was invite the Aurors to come search his property. And not have anything on the prohibited list.
He dropped the letter in the departmental inbox when his shift finally ended, at nearly nine at night.
Robards called him into his office the next day.
"Potter, are you being a smartarse?" asked Robards. Harry thought about that for a second. Probably.
"What sir?" asked Harry as innocently as he could.
"Requesting an Auror search under the Blood war (Proceeds of crimes therein) act of nineteen ninety-nine?" asked Robards, somehow pronouncing the parentheses.
"I inherited the head of a family that's got its accounts frozen under the act" said Harry.
"According to this, you live in a bloody manor in Wessex" said Robards.
"It's… a semi-derelict money pit really." admitted Harry "But it's entailed, so I can't sell it and my godson; he's the next Black he inherits it."
"Leaving you living where? Some other buildings not on the list?" asked Robards "Everyone knows the Blacks have a place in Islington somewhere. For the ministry seat. Like the Potter cottage for the seat at Godrics Hollow."
Harry shook his head. "I've got a ruined paddock where my grandparents house used to be. That's all."
"Making a false declaration to the DMLE may result in a fine or criminal prosecution" said Robards, tapping his fingers on the parchment.
"I also own a quarter share in a school" admitted Harry "Old family project. Makes no money as far as I know."
"Bloody poncey families, more money than sense" said Robards. "I'll see what Legal can do."
-==0==-
So the Department of Internal Affairs suspended Harry without pay, while the Land Registry were slow to return official information.
The free food from his grocer was a life-saver. Rather literally.
Harry was summonsed back to DMLE to interview room eight 'the one that doesn't small of wee'.
Robards sat on the other side of the desk, with a young dark-haired witch from Legal and a rectangular-headed wizard from the 'Land Registrar.'
"You don't" said Robads "Own any other lands?"
"Might have some titles to odd bits of land from my family under embargo but that's all" said Harry, "As far as I know."
Robards eyed him with a narrow-eyed look "All the money of the Blacks… and you own one house?"
"Sold the rest to pay for repairs." admitted Harry. "One that's watertight, not three falling down."
"We will" said Robards "Organise a search for later today, or tomorrow?"
"I believe I'm still suspended" admitted Harry "Today?"
A few of the older desk-pushers apparated to Black Manor and searched.
"Where's your… furniture?" the leader asked. "It's practically empty. Hiding things are you?"
Harry shrugged "All I've got."
An hour later the Auror team called in curse-breakers to explain the bedroom mirrors and wardrobe-fronts.
"Not… technically dark" said a leathery curse-breaker in a brown felt hat "But… I've only seen stuff like this in really old tombs. Doesn't it keep you awake? The way the mirrors whisper, the shadows shifting in the varnish?"
"I hardly notice it any more" admitted Harry. Not admitting it was all he could afford. When you renovated with the elder wand, you took what you got. They hadn't looked too hard at the wallpapers either. Harry definitely didn't. The toile pattern in the bedrooms that had it looked quite french until you looked too closely at what the little people in the scenes were doing. So reminiscent of the pictures Snape had used in to decorate his defence classroom. But they moved. It really didn't pay to watch, or think about it too hard.
Robards called Harry back in, handed him his badge, and a letter "You're officially a family of good standing, Potter-Black. Gringotts will allow you to access the frozen accounts now.
Harry wished for an instant that Gringotts hadn't taken all his Potter and Black vaults. That would have been so nice.
"You're back on shift in thirty minutes" said Robards.
"Not time to go to the bank?" asked Harry.
"We're short-handed. Some dolt got himself suspended by Internal affairs, on top of everything else." said Robards "Get in uniform and get moving." Harry sighed at the insult, and got moving.
Harry's next day off was six days later.
Harry went to Gringotts and the guards stopped him with those spear-things again.
Harry took out the scroll from the college of arms stating he was the Slytherin of Slytherin, and the letter from DMLE stating he was person of good standing.
The two guard-goblins just blocked his way and tooted the groaning horn.
Quite a bit later, a goblin in a suit came out and took the scrolls. It read the scrolls.
"This is in order" the goblin said nodding "You may come into the branch" it said, then something quick and grating in a different language, The spears parted and the guard-goblins assumed a relaxed pose.
Harry smiled weakly and walked between the goblins, following the banker-goblin into Gringotts.
The goblin darted behind a desk and when Harry went to follow they said "Please queue like any customer, please."
Harry joined a queue in front of a goblin and waited. And waited, as the middle-aged witch five people ahead of him wanted fifteen galleons, in mostly sickles in knuts, counted into little bags. The teller-goblin counted coins into velvet bags slowly, the other witches and wizards in Harry's queue looking around in obvious impatience.
Harry was quite hungry by the time he reached the teller, and handed over his scroll declaring Harry the Slytherin of Slytherin.
"I'd like to visit my vault" Harry said.
"One moment" said the goblin, and waved over another goblin, who it conversed with quickly in what was probably gobbledigook. The second goblin came around the desks, and motioned to Harry.
They walked over to the mine-carts, and got into a cart, indicating that Harry should bring a lamp.
Harry got into the cart, with a lamp and sat down, and the goblin let the brake go, and the mine-cart rolled off downhill, gathering speed. The wheels vibrated, the cart shook, and the tunnel rushed past in semidarkness, brief glimpses of light from open vaults to the sides.
The sides of the tunnel fell away into a cavern, and in the darkness of the cavern, far below, twin flames flared. Like dragon nostrils.
But Harry didn't have time to speculate on how many dragons Gringotts had, as the cart screeched around a corner, tipped over a drop and fell, almost out of contact with the rails, down a deep dark shaft, that was going past faster than a diving broom, Harry's hair rushing backwards in the slipstream. The shaft started to level out, and the wheels shot showers of sparks, the cart turned sharply left, then right, all the time descending ever downwards. Harry was sure he was much farther down than he'd ever been, even on the trip to the LeStrange vaults. The tunnel was noticeably smaller, and the beams periodically propping up the roof closer together, but rather aged and cobwebby.
Finally, the tunnel nearly at a dead-end, the cart stopped in a shower of sparks.
"Bring the lamp" said the goblin.
"What's your name?" asked Harry.
"None of your fucking business" snarled the goblin, getting out and walking to the edge of the light where a brassy door blocked a stone wall made of large grey blocks.
Harry got out of the cart, brought the lamp and followed the goblin.
The goblin, who was waiting impatiently, ran their finger down the vault door, and there was the sound of a click, then a hissing sound, like an animated silver snake door bolt retracting at the chamber of secrets, which faded to silence. The door squeaked open, and the goblin pointed "Best pull it open. It's old and it sticks" they said. Harry looked up above the vault door, and there was a small stone plaque that had '432' carved on it. The two looked vaguely snake-like.
Harry had to put the lamp down and use both hands to pull the door open, as it squeaked and shuddered. There was a vault behind the door, a large round room made of large stone blocks with a tapering roof, ending in a point. The room was at least the size of the Gryffindor common room, and had a small pile of galleons, hardly a foot tall, and a small puddle of sickles. There were a number of plain looking long wooden chests with flat tops, all sitting open, and, as Harry walked in, clearly empty.
"Don't keep me waiting all day" said the goblin "Time is money."
Harry walked around the room, drawing his wand and lighting it up, exposing patterns in the whitish dust that covered the floor, as if round things, like large jars or vases had been removed, and one spot, a dented metal bucket lay on it's side, empty.
Harry picked up the bucket, and put all the coins in it. It didn't take long. There had only been sixty eight galleons, eighteen sickles and two knuts.
Harry left the vault, and pushed the door shut. It shut with a thud, and the slithering sound of an animated metal snake filled the silent tunnel.
"Got what you wanted?" asked Goblin "Because you need to bring the lamp."
Lamp hanging from one hand, bucket handle from the other, Harry got back in the cart, this time the end farthest down. The goblin got in, reached over the edge of the bucket and pulled two levers.
The cart started to roll uphill, gathering speed.
It took a really long time to get to the surface.
He might have an empty vault, thought Harry, But he had a vault.
He could come back later and deposit all his spare money, he thought to himself.
Harry tried looking up how to permanently space-expand and featherlight a sack, so he could carry his galleons to the bank, instead of keeping them in a locked iron chest.
The spells looked hard, so he made do with a temporary featherlight charm, and left two hundred galleons in the chest, and went back to Gringotts and deposited the sack at the front counter, saying "Deposit into four three two"
The goblin nodded and a metal trolley was pushed out beside the desk. Harry emptied his sack into it.
Harry went home, stopping to buy, with some help from a star-struck clerk, the current sixth year textbooks for Hogwarts. He then had to carry an awkwardly large bundle of books to the trunk shop and buy a simple school-like trunk. It was noticeably nicer than the one he'd had as a first-year. Harry vaguely recalled Hagrid getting a good deal on that trunk. And of course, Uncle Vernon had probably burnt that one.
Harry sat at the dinner table, a textbook next to his dinner place-setting and tried to revise charms.
"Master should not read at the table" croaked Kreacher. "He'll get gravy on the pages."
A week later, an owl came with a book-list and list of necessities for school.
Madame Malkin was gushy. Harry looked at her blankly "I just need uniforms" he said.
Harry knocked on the door of Robards office. "Sir?" he asked.
Robards looked up from the desk that was permanently covered in piles of parchments.
"What is it?" said Robards, eyeing Harry like a 'suspect being uncooperative glare number two.'
Harry walked in and shut the door behind him. He eyed the visitors chair, covered in more paperwork.
"So now you're coming clean, Internal affairs will sack you" said Robards.
"No, I'm um… I need to resign" said Harry "I'm going back to school, to get some NEWTs."
Robards put his quill down "Resign?" said Robards. "For NEWTs?"
"Well, I can't be an Auror forever."
"I've worked for the office for twenty years, Potter. A hardworking man, one who does the weekend shifts, who always stops the evil bastards, he'd be on the fast track to Auror team leader, then my job" said Robards.
"Well I wouldn't want to put you out of a job" said Harry.
"Sit" said Robards. Harry lifted the stack of paperwork and then had to put it on the floor. He sat.
"Dawlish and I have been watching you, giving you opportunities" said Robards "And this is how you repay us. You Ungrateful bastard."
"What?" asked Harry.
"You're the best Auror since Mad-Eye Moody, and you're telling me you're resigning?" asked Robards "Where do you even see yourself in ten years time?"
Harry thought about that, choked off the longing in his heart to be lying under a sporty redhead, to have a family. Even to be an Auror, reminded of Andromeda's rant.
"I actually have no idea" admitted Harry. "I've never really made plans… well not that worked. It's just everyone's calling me the Butcher, and… That's not what I want." his leg started to jiggle on it's own.
"Fine" spat Robards "Two weeks notice, starting today. You're on recall for five years is we have to call up recently retired staff. I'll tell Dawlish."
Harry stood up, and wondered what he could say. People said things like 'it's been a pleasure working with you' but Dawlish and Robards had been hard men to work for, and he'd not seen Ginny all of her final year. Harry's chest ached, he was pretty sure this job had cost him Ginny.
"Two weeks" said Harry, and he left.
Dawlish made sure Harry didn't get a weekend for both weeks, and every shift wasa night shift. Harry felt they were being petty. Still, like detention with Snape, it ended eventually.
Which led to Harry having to hang his Auror robes up in the wardrobe, and put his boots under them. He might have pondered that, but he had textbooks to revise, and he found himself making notes. If only of things he still didn't understand.
As the pile of notes grew, Harry's hand got sorer and sorer.
Eight days, Four quills and a stack of parchment later. Harry had read all the texts of his sixth year, and now just had to go through the notes, hopefully with some more books.
So then he had to read his notes, almost illegible, and make notes of book subjects he needed books on.
That done, and with only a week before September left, Harry went and looked in what was left of the Black library for books to explain all the topics he'd made notes as needing.
He found several before dinner. And three more after.
A day later, he found a book with a handwritten catalogue of the library. It was out-of date but meant that a day later, he had a pile of books Hermione would be proud of.
He sat down in a comfortable chair, poked the fire into life with a wordless incendio, and started on the first book. On charms relating to the animation of objects. Which Harry had never really been that good at.
Harry fell asleep in the chair and woke with a sore neck.
The last few days before September passed in a blur of reading. Harry gave up in disgust on the last night of August, shrank the remaining books, banished them into his school trunk and went and had a hot bath. He fell asleep, and woke, thrashing in the water from a Cedric-being-murderd-in-the-graveyard dream.
Harry dried off, and went to bed properly.
Taking care to arrive long before the train left, Harry put his surprisingly light trunk up in the racking, and sat on a bench seat on the Hogwarts express.
"Are you a teacher?" asked an eleven-year-old old minutes later.
"I'm a student, I took a few years off… to be an Auror" said Harry.
"What's an Auror?" they asked.
"A magical policeman. Now I'm going back for my seventh year and exams" said Harry.
Harry got bored of the empty carriage quickly, and resorted to reading a book on transfiguring stones to metals. The train trip, punctuated by the purchase of some pumpkin pasties, went far too quickly. Children came, peered in the window and left.
Harry was directed by Hagrid "Jus take a carriage up to the castle, an' go sit at Gryffindor table" said the half-giant "I'll get these first-years down to the lake."
Harry took an empty thestral-drawn carriage up to Gryffindor table. Nobody looked familiar, and Neville was sitting at the high table.
"Um, you're Harry Potter?" asked one of the older students, who all looked quite young to Harry.
"Yes" said Harry "I'm here to do seventh year and NEWTs."
Harry went to Hogsmeade two weeks after the start of term, determined to get to the Hogs Head and get a few drinks.
Abe Dumbledore looked at Harry and shook his head "Back at school, boy?" he grouched.
"I missed seventh year and NEWTs" said Harry "My Aunt Andromeda suggested it."
"Andromeda Black was a good customer, rented a lot of rooms. You want a room?" asked Abe.
Harry went with a glass of firewhiskey instead. If only to wash that thought out of his skull.
A crowd of young adult witches pressed into the Hogshead
"Ah, your fans are here" said Abe.
Harry downed his shot of firewhiskey.
"Oh he's not wearing school uniform" said someone jokingly "We could have played bad student and naughty professor detention."
Harry apparated out to the street of Hogsmeade by the Three Broomsticks and went in to get a drink there.
It was packed with chattering Hogwarts students.
One more firewhiskey later Harry couldn't stand the noise, and left with a bottle of butterbeer, and sat on a conjured chair under a tree down at the Hogsmeade green, and settled in to getting properly drunk again.
"You're a hard to find, miserable git" said Daphne Greengrass unexpectedly, later. "You're still expected at my sisters wedding, and we couldn't get a reply out of you."
Harry looked up at her from his bottle groggily "What?"
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"Yup" said Harry.
"Why?" asked Daphne Greengrass.
"Haven't got drunk in weeks" said Harry blinking "Time to get a good nights sleep."
"Are you saying you only sleep well when drunk?" asked Daphne Greengrass, her face frozen in impassivity.
Harry nodded "Bad dreems, so many friends in bed." he slurred.
"Friends in bed?"
"Dead friends" said Harry "So many dead friends in my dreams."
"You should go see a healer about that" said Daphne Greengrass, slowly backing away from Harry.
"Already went" said Harry, waving the bottle. "Lotsh better."
Daphne Greengrass, smiling fixedly, backed away from Harry Potter and left briskly.
-==0==-
Harry woke up the next morning, horribly hung over.
He had a letter from Hermione at breakfast, asking, in what Hermione obviously thought was an hilarious tone to see her school chum on at Hogsmeade for an adventure, ten am, at the Three Broomsticks.
Hermione came in and sat down "Harry" she said "How's school?"
"Oddly easier" said Harry. "But dull."
"Any idea for an adventure?" asked Hermione.
"We could go see the old family estate at Stinchcombe" said Harry "It's where my grandfathers' house was before it burnt down."
Hermione nodded "Sounds educational" she said, and they went outside and Harry side-along apparated them both to Potters field at Stinchcombe.
Harry hold his arms out "This… is my family estate. It's not big, and there's no house. It burnt down in the seventies."
"You say that, Harry, but what if it was concealed by a fidelius charm or something" said Hermione. "You don't know, so you couldn't see it."
Harry got the tiny black stone out of his jeans pocket , and turned it three times on his hand
"Behold, I'll use the awful power of the Resurrection stone to see my ancestors" said Harry.
The sky darkened
"It's going to rain" said Hermione, taking a full-sized umbrella out of her tiny beaded handbag.
"It's not rain" said Harry, and the sun disappeared completely, and it became as black as night, and two dark figures formed from the shadows, fuzzily forming into an old man, with a round face slightly shorter than Harry and a tall, angularly faced old woman with high cheekbones
"Monty, we hahv arraved." she said primly, in an American accent of some sort.
"Harry? Gosh, you do look like James" said the old man, his face very friendly.
Harry smiled nervously. "Hello" said Harry.
"I'm your grandfather, Monty Potter" said the old man. "This is your grandmother, Euphemia, though you're family so you can call her Effie."
"Yoah grandfathers full name is Fleamond, but he goas bah Monty" explained… Harry's grandmother in an American accent. "Who is this youang lahdeh?" she asked in her... thick American accent.
"Hermione Granger, Harry's friend, he's like a brother to me" said Hermione.
Euphemia Potters spirit form crossed her arms "And what do yew call theas? Engahging in nehromanceh? And nowat evahn a sacrahficial altah." Harry Grandmother's accent got more and more American and impenetrable as she talked.
"Effie, maybe you could let the greatest grandson in the universe explain?" asked Monty Potter.
"Um… well I used the resurrection stone, one of the Deathly Hallows to call you up. I was... um… not expecting it to work, as I'm pretty sure it's just a cursed stone that make illusions based on my memories" said Harry.
"Oh Montah, are yew telling meh that thaht storeh yew told me abaht yoah familaeh is true?" asked Euphemia Potter.
Monty Potter smiled thinly "Apparently so. Where was the stone, I thought we didn't inherit it?"
"The Gaunts did" said Hermione. "The last Gaunt used the stone as a Horcrux, and well, Harry had to destroy it."
Monty Potter stared at Hermione for a bit "I didn't notice Hogwarts educational standards getting that tough. Harry, weren't you only seventeen at the time?"
"Uh… yes Grandfather. I was" said Harry.
"Right. Get a Best Grandson t-shirt, however you do that, and then ritually burn it for your old Grandfather. I'm jolly well wearing it in the afterlife." said Monty Potter.
"Monteh, that is uhndignahfied" said Euphemia Potter.
"And one for your grandmother too. She's a size six" said Monty "But I wouldn't mind if you sent her a size four."
"Monty!" said his Grandmother, sounding a bit scandalised.
"Um" said Harry "I don't really know anything about either of you. Can you tell me, um, what you did, and maybe some nice stories?"
"I can do betteh than that" said Harry's grandmother "I can tell you my cousin's cunning plan for making muggles never notice witches and wizards. Like the statute of secrecy, only better."
"I suppose, it is the future now" said Monty thoughtfully "It was a bit far-fetched in the twenties."
"They went to the moon Monty. It's not far-fetched at all" said Harry's grandmother.
Harry's grandmother's cousins muggle protection strategy had Hermione goggle-eyed. Well, Grandmother's cousin, who'd died in the twenties. He'd apparently liked Muggle Scientifiction. Whatever that was.
"Tiny flying aeroplanes with cinema projectors and wireless, so muggles can travel instantly and they look like they're apparating. Nobody would notice us anymore" said Harry grandmother.
"And space travel, so they'll leave. We can't go anywhere. We're stuck where we died."
"And mah cousin sayed they needed ray guns, so wands don't look magical either" said Harry's grandmother thoughtfully "What is a ray gun?"
Hermione gaped.
Fleamont looked at a pocket-watch "Effie, it's nearly time for Savannah's Piano Recital."
"Oh yeahs, mah sisters giel Savannah Candlewood, shea's having a paianoh recital, the whole famileh areh goin tew whach.. weah'll have to be going bahk." said Harry's grandmother.
"Oh, is she very good? Asked Harry politely, after piecing together what his gran had just said.
"Weahl, they don leht jus anehbody plah Carengie Hawl." said Harry's Grandmother "Mah sistah's been brahgnh about her since she playeh heah fest sinfoni."
"One last thing" asked Harry "Is the house hidden by some sort of magic?"
"It was burnt down" said Harry's grandfather Monty bluntly. "Reprisals for what James and Lily were getting up to" Harry's grandfather then nodded his head at Hermione twice. Harry twigged on.
"Hermione ,can you pop off for… three minutes?" asked Harry.
Hermione frowned but vanished with a crack, holding her umbrella.
"Family magic, boy" said Harry's grandfather seriously. "Don't show just anyone. And the charm we got from the Peverells cannot be shown to non-family, or it will never work again."
"What charm?" asked Harry.
"The Potter residence is at Stinchcombe" said Monty, and a derelict Tudor manor house faded into view, overgrown by gardens that had gone wild. "The spell is in the library. Probably."
Monty looked at the derelict house "It needs a bit of a tidy-up" he added.
"Harry deah, we will be layet." said his Grandmother. "And do somethang with the gardehns, they're ah disgraceh."
Harry turned the stone three times and his grandparents disappeared, the sun coming out from wherever it had been hiding.
Hermione reappeared a bit later, and clearly didn't see the house and gardens.
"Harry. The stone really works. I thought you said it was just cursed?" asked Hermione.
"It IS cursed. If I use it on My mother and father, or… Tonks and Remus, or Fred… they're just made from my memories. Ginny was with me, and she asked things I didn't know, and they just froze." explained Harry, waving his hands.
"Harry, what's different about your grandparents?" asked Hermione.
"Well… I don't know them. That could be it." said Harry.
"My paternal grandmother then" suggested Hermione. "Sharon Mildred Granger."
Harry concentrated and rolled the stone. Nothing happened.
Harry handed it over to Hermione, and she tried. Nothing happened.
Hermione got a worried look "Harry" she said softly "Maybe it doesn't work on muggles."
"Well, call up… Tonks" said Harry.
Hermione concentrated, rolled the stone, and the sun disappeared, and a dark figure slowly solidified int a ghostly Tonks.
"Hermione?" asked Tonks in a voice like the wind in the trees "What are you doing?"
"What did we talk about that weekend at Grimmauld place?" asked Hermione.
"Runes and it's usefulness in fighting evil." said Tonks.
Hermione nodded.
"Tonks?" asked Harry "What did you say to me when you first met me?"
Tonks froze.
Hermione hurriedly turned the stone back and handed it to Harry. "That thing is cursed" she said.
Harry nodded.
"And your cousin's playing Carnegie Hall. That's… like playing the Albert Hall" said Hermione.
"What's that?" asked Harry.
"It means" said Hermione, with her typically, 'why do I have you as a friend?' tone "Your cousin's a world-class pianist."
Harry sighed. He didn't know how to play a piano, or any musical instrument.
Hopefully his grandfather and grandmother would be proud enough of his military achievements.
"Hermione" said Harry "We should get onto the t-shirt order for my grandfather"
"Harry?" asked Hermione "Are you really going to send a small t-shirt for your grandmother?"
"Well… said Harry, his throat feeling tight "It's just… well… it's the first time any of my family has been proud of me. And… to be honest, grandma's very… slender for her age."
"Ugh" said Hermione "You're bragging about your grandmother!"
"You have to admit Grandpa scored way out of his league there" said Harry with a chuckle.
Hermione shook her head "You're just lucky he did, or your father would have had a moon-face like your grandfather… and you would have inherited it … and frankly you need all the help you can get."
"I what?" asked Harry, blinking.
"Harry, you're bad-tempered, reclusive and a bit strapped for galleons. Being good-looking is all you've got going for you… well and your mothers eyes. They are quite cute." said Hermione with a snort.
"I'm good at fireworks displays" said Harry defensively.
"And if there were witches who were obsessed with fireworks, that might be a good thing" said Hermione dismissively.
…
Harry handed over fifty pounds for the t-shirts at the store in the touristy-bit of London.
"Harry, what size did you get your grandmother" asked Hermione, holding her muggle shopping bag open.
"A six." said Harry, pocketing the size four without Hermione seeing it.
The ritual burning required marking things with runes beforehand, but Harry only had to copy them onto the size four after all.
Hermione did the rune-work, obviously, and Harry burnt them in the cavernous fireplace of Black mansion, with Hermione reading out the instructions for the ritual.
Harry immediately rolled the stone, and his grandmother and grandfather appeared.
"Hello Harry "said his Grandfather. "We love you so."
"Hermione" said Harry nervously "it's not working… they're not them… are they?"
"They'd have the t-shirts" said Hermione, biting her lip. "Hello,… um Mr Potter, Mrs Potter" said Hermione.
"Hello Dear" said Euphemia.
"How was the piano recital?" asked Hemrione politely.
"Fine dear, just fine. Oh Harry, we do love you so."
Harry rolled the stone backwards three times and his grandparents vanished.
"Memories" said Harry bitterly. "This time it's memories."
"What did we do differently?" asked Hemione.
"Every time I raise Tonks, she's fake" said Harry. "Grandfather and Grandmother were probably real. Does it only work once?"
"Was Tonks's spirit ever real?" asked Hermione quickly.
"I dunno" said Harry.
Hermione sat on the end of the kitchen table, thinking.
"Harry, have you ever summoned your grandparents here before?" asked Hermione.
"Only at Potter's field" said Harry. "Where their house used to be before it burnt down after they died." he lied.
"Harry" said Hermione "Where did they die?"
"I dunno?" Harry replied.
"Harry" said Hermione "Potter's field. We need to see… if there's graves or something"
"They're all at Godrics Hollow" said Harry "Even the Peverells are there."
"That can't be it" said Hermione. "Let's go to Potter's field and try again. Maybe it only works outside."
"I tried Fred and Tonks and Remus in the orchard at the Burrow" said Harry "And they were fakes and Ginny spotted it."
They apparated to Potters field and Harry rolled the stone, the sky darkened and two ghostly forms appeared. Harry's grandfather was wearing a 'World greatest grandson' T-shirt. Harry's grandmother was wearing sensible robes.
"Harrah" she said "Your Grandfather insists on wearing that rediculous gahment."
"Grandmother" said Harry politely and grinned at his Grandfather. Fleamont grinned back "Brilliant!" said Fleamont "I'll talk your grandmother into one of those t-shirts sooner or later."
"Fleamond!" Euphemaia Potter said chidingly.
"Um… Mrs Potter, how was the piano recital?" asked Hermione.
"Superlahtive." said Euphemia.
"I'll send her a card" offered Harry.
"You doah thaht" said his grandmother approvingly. "She needs a lot of encouragement, she's only seveneen aftah awl"
Harry's teeth ground. He smiled woodenly.
Hermione patted Harry on the back "At least we worked out how the stone works" she said.
"We did?" asked Harry.
"It only works properly when used at the place of your loved-ones death" said Hermione evenly "Otherwise it raises a copy built from the memories of the user of the stone."
"Well, Miss Grahnger, you ahre verah clavah" said Euphemia, and looked down at Hermione.
"I"ll um… just let you two get back to whatever" said Harry, and rolled the stone three times.
"You know what this means?" asked Harry.
"What?" asked Hermione.
"It means..." said Harry "I need to sneak into mum and dad's old cottage to talk to them. That's what. The cottage I sold."
"Harry?" asked Hermione "Are we inside you parents house?" she asked pointedly.
"Well somewhere near?" he said defensively.
"So a space-expanded, muggle-repelling tent in the street outside will work just fine." said Hermione. "But talking to Sirius will be a trial."
Harry looked thoughtful "A trial?" he said thoughtfully "I think you're right, Chief necromancer Granger… Level nine of the ministry, just outside courtroom ten. Close enough to the veil of death room. Probably."
"Chief necromancer?" asked Hermione.
"Well, I can be Chief necromancer instead if you'd rather." said Harry jokingly.
"Harry, you have all three deathly hallows." said Hermione "That makes you master of death"
"But it doesn't really" said Harry waving his hands "I can talk to them, sure but I'm not like, pointing at people and they die or anything."
"Harry, there's a perfectly ghastly spell for that already" said Hermione. "You're the world expert on it."
"Hmm" said Harry "About that. I think… I will need to keep how mum did that a secret."
Hermione gasped "Oh my. Family magic, with like secret, blood locked grimoires and everything?" she said enthusiastically.
"Um" said Harry, thinking about the Slytherin family blood spells. The ones he suspected existed. "I won't be talking about the um… mechanism. Sorry, Hermione not even to you." said Harry.
"Not even to me?" asked Hermione "I'm your best friend!" she said indignantly
Harry winced "But" said Harry "It's… it might be something really… old-fashioned."
"Wow, so your mum discovered some ancient magics, probably come Celtic stuff?" asked Hermione.
Harry shook his head "Blood magic" he said "The specialist at St Mungos suspects what it was."
"Harry" said Hermione uneasily "Your mum did blood magic? Isn't that illegal?"
Harry nodded "And the protections at Privet Drive" said Harry "Were Blood magic too. As Mum was dead by then, I think it was Professor Dumbledore that cast them."
"But Harry, he was Chief Warlock at the time." said Hermione, eyes wide.
"Which made it easier to cover up, I think" said Harry. "Anyway, the way mum saved me… it only worked because we were all related. Me, Mum and Tom Riddle."
"On the Peverell side, right" said Hermione. "Gosh magic's tricky" she added.
Harry smiled weakly and nodded. No way was he telling Hermione he was the Slytherin of Slytherin. Because she'd want him to … do all kinds of things. Political stuff involving… speeches. Harry shuddered in horror at the thought of public speaking. A perfectly reasonable taking a killing-curse to the chest, that was just… prophecy business. Public speaking though… Harry shivered.
"We should" offered Harry "Go to Hogwarts. Catch up with some friends."
Hermione nodded "Yes Harry, that's a great idea. It'll give us closure. I wouldn't mind a few less nightmares."
"Maybe… next weekend" asked Harry. "I think I need to get some sleep, do some assignments."
"What a good idea" said Hermione "I'll look up places of death for your family next week."
After Hermione apparated away, Harry apparated to Little Hangleton. The graveyard, obviously. It was … a graveyard, there were old trees, and lots of tombstones. And some creepy statues. And obviously, he was close to Tom Riddle's tomb with the grim reaper statue. Harry cast a suite of Muggle repelling charms, and rolled the stone, thinking of Cedric.
A shade of Cedric Diggory appeared, looking the same as fake Cedric had at the Burrow.
"Harry?" said Cedric "What the blazes. I was kind of busy!" he said, then smiled "Good to see you anyway. You've got older. Has it been a long time?"
"Six years" said Harry "And I learnt how to call up spirits."
Cedric blushed "Just to talk to me, gosh, I'm flattered." said the handsome, tall teenager.
"Not for that, you berk" snapped Harry "Because I've been having nightmares about you dying for six bloody years. Now. Are you enjoying the afterlife?"
"I'm not sure I should say" said Cedric.
Harry nodded "Cool" he said. "I um dated Cho. It was rubbish, she still missed you. She's gone a bit odd."
Cedric nodded "I can still see her. She must love me."
"That's bit stupid really" said Harry "You've moved on, right?"
Cedric looked embarrassed "It's been six years Harry, and we were only dating at school" he said firmly.
"Totally get it" said Harry concisely "So, see you later, Cedric."
"Harry?" asked Cedric "The guy that killed me. Why?"
"You were just in the way, Cedric. Hence the order of 'kill the spare.' from Voldemort."
"That was Voldemort!" explained Cedric "All high-pitched?"
"He was in a homunculus, well, till he used a resurrection ritual here, using my blood and stuff." said Harry "Course, he broke his soul before he died, so I suspect no afterlife for him."
"How did Voldemort die?" asked Cedric.
"I killed him at Hogwarts in ninety-eight" said Harry "Lots of people we know died in the battle."
"Oh" said Cedric "I um… haven't been hanging out with the old crowd."
"I completely understand" said Harry "See you again some time" he added, and rolled the stone backwards thrice, and just like the sun coming up, Cedric faded.
Harry hoped at that instant, that he would have less nightmares. He'd had treatment for it, after all.
Harry looked up at the hill overlooking the graveyard. A small manor stood, decrepit.
Vodlemort had hidden out there, Harry remembered. Poor old Frank.
Harry walked up the hill, and magic tingled across his skin. Strong feeling spells.
The house was looking very unloved. Harry eyed it semi-professionally. The roof was… pretty good. Old Frank must have done some maintenance before he died.
Harry drew the elder wand and cast a few repair charms, the slipped roof slates slipping back into place. The upper windows were mostly intact, and with some teeth-grating noises the elder wand mended the cracked panes.
The missing glass, Harry frowned at. Transfiguring rocks into panes of glass was fiddy, Harry realised. And the bloody wand kept putting a Peverell symbol on the panes.
Harry unlocked the front door and strode in, and stopped. The house smelt of garbage. Reeked of it.
Harry headed down the hall, and the smell got worse, till in a cavernous kitchen, the reek was practically solid.
Harry vanished piles of rotting stuff off the tables, which were permanently stained, and opened cupboards. Which was a mistake. Whoever had been cooking must have charmed food and put it in the cupboards. And all the spells had all failed.
After an hour, Harry had opened every cupboard and vanished all the rotten muck. The room smelt bad, but not so solid with stench.
The house stank, and Harry explored, vanishing the rotting food that was on plates all through the house. The bloody death-eaters had all been slobs, and stabbed knives into the dining table in the dining room.
The Elder wand made the table smooth and glossy again. Maybe the reflections in the varnish weren't what was there, but… it looked good from most angles.
The Riddle house was stuck in the forties, stank of rot, and some windows had only been replaced today. But it had potential. Harry could see it potentially selling for real money.
Harry resorted to raising Tom Riddle – the older one, in the sitting room at Riddle house to find out the house's true address.
Tom had been a very handsome thirty-something man with an old-fashioned haircut and funny collar, and looked quite confused.
"What happened?" asked the shade.
"Never mind. What's the address of the Riddle house" asked Harry.
"Riddle house, number one, Hilltop Road, Little Hangleton, York." said Tom Riddle, in a posh accent. "Who are you? Are you one of those magical people?"
"Harry Potter. A distant cousin of Merope's family, the only one left alive related to your son." said Harry.
"That… that was my son, wasn't it. A Patricide" said Tom Riddle.
Harry nodded "He killed a lot of people, including my parents. He's gone now."
"How" said Tom Riddle standing very upright and holding his suit lapels in his hands "did he die?"
"I killed him" said Harry "It was either him or me in the end. Uncle Tom had to die."
"Cousin or uncle, boy?" asked Tom Riddle sharply.
"Related to my mother and my father, on different sides of his family tree" said Harry.
"I've been dead a while" said Tom Riddle looking at the room.
"Um… sixty years" said Harry.
"And no afterlife. What a load of cock-and-bull that all was" said Tom bitterly.
Harry sighed "People… um… without magic. They just stop. Magical people, we either make ghosts, or go on."
"To what?" asked Tom riddle.
Harry shook his head "The next adventure" said Harry with a wry smile.
"Why was my son bad?" asked Tom Riddle. "Is it something to do with magic? Because Merope was so dreadful?"
"I've no idea" Harry replied "I spent my childhood trying not to be murdered by him, and then had to fight him, with seventy years of experience. He got over-confident, and didn't know we were so closely related, and magic works oddly between members of some old magical families."
"And yours is old?" asked Tom Riddle.
"I'm … head of one of the older families in England" said Harry "Tom was head of two old families, till I killed him. I'm also head of them, as we were..."
"Related on two sides. How very Greek of you both." said Tom Riddle.
"Well, thanks for the address" said Harry.
"Wait!" said Tom Riddle "You brought me back from the dead to find out the house's address. Isn't that pretty evil magic? Meddling with life and death like that."
"I'm Britain's' greatest Necromancer." said Harry deadpan "And a decorated hero, for killing Tom, who did grow up to be… wizard Hitler."
"It's his mothers fault" said Tom. "She used that potion on me."
"I'm sorry she did that" said Harry "That's a crime, and If I'd been on duty at the time, if I'd found out, she'd have been arrested."
"Are you a magical policeman?" asked Tom Riddle.
"I had to retire" said Harry "My aunt disapproved, and I was getting a bad reputation."
"All the summoning the dead business" said Tom Riddle.
"Oh no, just killing people instead of capturing them" admitted Harry "The Necromancy bit's… well people would think I was as bad as Tom if they knew."
"And I can't tell anyone" said Tom Riddle "You bloody hypocrite."
"Hey, I never tortured people for fun. I just chose to kill dark wizards and witches instead of capturing them. They were all trying to kill me at the time." said Harry.
"You talk like a soldier in a war" said Tom Riddle, looking surprised.
"Second blood war. The first one ended when my parents were murdered by your son Tom and I nearly died." said Harry "And my mother used some magic to make the spell reflect onto Tom, and he practically died for a decade."
"So your mother was a witch too" said Tom "did she use potions on your father too?"
"No" said Harry "They loved each other, got married, had a child, all without love potions. It works just like ordinary people, but with a bit more… um… witches can always fight back."
"I'm aware" said Tom Riddle's shade drily.
"Well, goodbye Tom Riddle" said Harry, opening his palm and touching the stone.
"Can I come back, read a newspaper, a book… anything?" asked Tom Riddle.
"I probably won't raise you again, and as far as I know nobody else can. And once I've got title to the house I'll sell it."
"Sell it?" asked Tom "It was quite a good house. I suppose you want to live in a hovel like Merope."
"Uh no, my manors' got plenty of rooms, but I'm short of money. I'm the last member of Tom's family, so I think I'll sell it for what I can get." said Harry.
"But… you're a sorcerer, You can just magic up money" said Tom.
"Not really, last bloke who could died ten years ago." said Harry "And my bank seized all my accounts at the end of the war."
"So you lost" said Tom Riddle.
"Oh I won" said Harry "Some people call me 'The man who won', but I had to rob the bank to get a magical thing and they objected. They didn't ban my get, because I had money to confiscate."
"You should find another bank" said Tom Riddle "Barclays for example."
"Did you have an account there?" asked Harry. "Because the goblins that run our bank still hate me."
"Goblins?" asked Tom Riddle. "You're all mad."
Harry turned his finger three times. Barclays.
"Accio Barclays account book" cast Harry. A tatty paper booklet rattled out of a drawer and shot in to Harry's hand. Harry stowed it.
"Accio property title" did nothing. That had been a bit much to hope for.
The property title, Harry discovered for thirty galleons, was in legal limbo. Harry ducked out of Hogwarts on a double free period, confounded a few muggle clerks, got it un-limboed, inherited it and sold it, for several hundred thousand pounds.
Which, as Harry discovered, bought enough good old-fashioned rugs from Turkey to fill the bedrooms, and hallways, and main rooms. And left enough for a few fairly plain heavy curtains. Barclays refused to let Harry make transactions with the account book, and were quite confundus resistant. They wanted muggle paperwork showing Harry was executor of a will, or beneficiary thereof.
The Gaunt shack and lands, with a title the muggle authorities could barely find even confounded, Harry sold to The National Trust for a fifty thousand pounds. He brought curtains for the drawing room, dining room, all the remaining bedrooms and the front hall. The blasted manor was miles warmer, but he had to go back to school anyway.
By Halloween, Harry had finally settled into a routine. Have a nightmare, shower, breakfast, study for classes, lunch, study or classes, dinner, a bit of duelling practice in a disused gallery, study or assignments in the library, bed, nightmares again.
Harry was settling in to breakfast on Halloween, when Neville came down from the high table and stopped next to him
"Harry?" asked Neville nervously.
"Professor Longbottom" said Harry, hardly sarcastically at all.
"I'd like to invite you to dinner, in my rooms tonight. I know Halloween's a bad day for you." said Neville.
"As long as there aren't Trolls. I'm enthusiastic" said Harry.
"Third floor, staff wing, my door's got on it" said Neville. "Six for six fifteen."
Harry knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately, by Neville in shirtsleeves.
"Harry" said Neville, smiling. "Come in."
Harry walked into a sitting room with a decent but un-stylish couch, a few chairs, a fireplace, a sideboard, a small table, with three chairs and a closed door. The table was set for dinner with Hogwarts plates and cutlery.
"Halloween food?" asked Harry.
"All the elves are cooking tonight, sorry." said Neville.
"It doesn't bother me much any more" admitted Harry "I still have nightmares about the deaths in the war, Cedric dying in front of me. That stuff."
Neville sat down quickly on an armchair "I thought you got treatment?" he asked, his lips thin.
"I did. It's nowhere near as bad" admitted Harry.
Neville stared at Harry "How much sleep do you get every night?" he asked.
"Some" said Harry "I always get some."
"Bloody hell Harry" said Neville, standing up and walking over and eyeballing Harry "You… you look like shit."
"Thank you, Professor Longbottom" said Harry.
"Don't be an arse, Harry" said Neville "Get some more treatment."
"At school Neville. Busy" said Harry.
"Get a booking for Friday at St Mungos and you'll have all weekend to get over it. And yes, your healer will provide a letter you can show your teachers for missing assignments." said Neville.
"Did McGonagall put you up to this?" asked Harry defensively.
"Harry, I've known you since you were a tiny messy haired disaster area. I'm a friend. Friends say things like 'you need to get that bleeding wound treated'" said Neville.
"I'm not bleeding" said Harry firmly.
"But you're still injured." said Neville.
"Other people lost more than me" said Harry.
"And Susan was Such pleasant company for years." said Neville. "Come on, let's eat."
Harry ate pumpkin pie, roast lamb and what looked a lot like brussel sprouts but weren't.
"What were those?" asked Harry, pointing a knife at the green blobs.
"Yorrin sprouts." said Neville "The plant's only dangerous in summer, but the buds are quite tasty."
"So it's not a potions ingredient?" asked Harry.
"They just taste good" said Neville. "Hagrid's been asking about cross-breeding pumpkins with something a bit more exciting."
Harry went rigid "And have a repeat of the blast-ended skrewt fiasco. Bloody hell. No." said Harry.
"I said something similar, but I did point out the committee for ill-advised magics would have a say in it anyway." said Neville.
As Harry finished off some pumpkin pasties, Neville said "I'm serious about St Mungos. You're not getting enough sleep."
"It's no worse than fifth year" admitted Harry.
"Harry?" said Neville nervously "Have you Ever slept well?"
"Not much no" admitted Harry.
"Right. Poppey first thing tomorrow to get you booked in." said Neville.
...
Healer Lowry let Harry into his office. "Harry Potter. Need more treatment then?"
"I have nightmares" admitted Harry. Lowry looked Harry in the eyes "Most nights?" he asked.
"Every night" admitted Harry.
Lowry opened a desk drawer and pulled out a potions bottle.
"Bad tasting potion?" asked Harry.
"Much worse" said Lowry, with a sigh "This will taste really odd, and you will have a vision, then, you'll need a few days sleep. I've been using it on a lot of the survivors of the war. It's well tolerated and effective."
"What's the catch?" asked Harry "There's always a catch."
"You will experience very vivid dreams" said Lowry. "We'll try to ensure they're pleasant."
"How?" asked Harry.
Lowry took a blob of wax from a shelf, and cast a spell on it, transfiguring it into a doll that looked like Harry, and then took a pin from his quill-stand. "One drop of blood. Binds the poppet to you."
"Blood magic" said Harry evenly.
"Then I'll carve a smile on the poppet" said Lowry, "And you'll have two or three days of strange dreams in a hospital bed, and be back at school Monday, better than before."
Lowry indicated the chaise lounge "Lie down after you blood the poppet. The potion will knock you out, then you'll have a vision."
The potion was vividly purple and tasted of… fizzing electricity on Harry's tongue, and he fell back as soon as it hit his stomach, feeling so tired…
Harry woke up in a hospital bed, in pyjamas, with a headache. He could vaguely remember dreaming… Ginny's shirt had featured prominently. As had Harry's hands. Harry sighed. That was all ages ago. Michael Corner had her now. Or vice versa.
Harry was served a breakfast tray, and Healer Lowry came in, looking sleepy "Potter" he said. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, and held up three.
"Three" said Harry.
"Well, you can count" said Lowry, taking a wax doll out of his robe pocket. It had black hair and green dots for eyes, and a brown stain on its chest. Lowry drew his wand and vanished the doll. He'd called it a poppet.
"You shouldn't have too many side effects. You may find yourself falling into fuges. So don't fly brooms for a bit. Maybe… two or three months. Don't, obviously get into fights." said Lowry.
"What's a fuge?" asked Harry.
You might find yourself staring at something shiny, unable to break away, or thinking about a smell, or another memory. It's not inherently dangerous, and should clear up in a few months."
"A few months?" asked Harry "I'm trying to do NEWTs"
"Which is excellent therapy. Learning things will help." said Lowry cheerfully.
Harry got dressed and went to Hogwarts by floo powder, arriving in Madam Pomfrey's office.
"Mister Potter" said Madam Pomfrey "I've had an owl already. Best of luck."
Harry had a perfectly normal Monday, and that night dreamt of Hedwig, flying across darkened rooms. She looked fantastic, for a dead owl.
By Saturday, it was clear more sleep was doing strange things to Harry. He felt… less moody. Things didn't bother him. And he kept seeing things like Hedwig flying, or pretty girls smiling in his dreams. Lowry had vanished the Poppet so that couldn't be it.
