~~Chapter 5 ~~
His first Christmas in a house that didn't hate him amazed Harry. They decorated a tree, sang carols, and drank festive beverages. He made a Christmas goose with all the trimmings and a yule log for afters and was able to partake of it all. Hermione came over the afternoon of Christmas day, as she and her parents were travelling to France to visit her mother's family from the 26th to just after three kings' day.
She looked around the house. "My goodness, Sirius. You've really fixed this place up. It's gorgeous!"
Sirius leaned back on his heels, a smile of pride on his face. He had worked on the house first, to make it safe for Harry, then to exorcise some of his own demons. Now it was his home, and he really enjoyed it. She took off her coat and hat, and Kreacher quickly took them and put them in the closet.
She followed Harry and Sirius on a mini tour of the ground floor through the renovated dining room then to a new family room, where Lupin and Tonks were drinking eggnog and Christmas songs played on a record player. Sirius picked up his own glass and tilted his head. "Nog? Mulled wine?"
Hermione smiled, "The wine, thanks. It's frigid out there!"
Harry stuck with tea as the adults were going to be imbibing for a bit longer. They talked about the changes – a potions lab renovated next to the kitchens in the basement, and the sub-basement now had a cleansed ritual room as well as the dungeon which could contain a werewolf. When they sat and had gossiped and toasted, Harry smiled at his little family. Sirius was right. The mind healer was helping him. He appreciated love more and actively worked to reject hate. He didn't need hate. Smiling at Hermione, he noted the necklace he'd gotten her – they'd exchanged gifts the prior evening when Sirius had taken Harry to Hermione's to wish the Grangers a merry happy etc. and to give Hermione a glamour ring to let her travel more safely in London – and smiled at the goblin-wrought owl. She'd recognized the mithril right away but had remained quiet as she hadn't wanted her parents to object. She'd loved the little owl straight off, and she was sure Harry would tell her why (and how!) he went to the goblins when they had some privacy.
After they had chatted a while and the adults started talking about things not so relevant to the teens, Harry decided to excuse himself and Hermione. It would be the only alone time they could have until she came home for spring hols… and they'd be taking GCSE's then, so she'd be nervous as a cat.
"Come up to my room, I have something to show you." Harry pulled Hermione to the back stairs.
"Your etchings?" Hermione quipped. She'd gotten a nice welcome kiss and hug, but it was in front of the others, so Harry'd been circumspect.
She was itching for a good snog.
"Etchings? No, I prefer sculpting, as you know. Though I do draw a bit. I'm not as good as Dean, but I'm pretty good." The euphemism had gone over his head, and his serious mien had Hermione a bit worried.
Harry was nervous, but since they'd exchanged gifts – she'd gotten him some art supplies and a sweater that she'd knit just for him (he was already wearing the forest green cashmere and adored it) – and she was wearing the goblin-made pendant, he knew she was safe to be in-the-know. He just hoped he could explain why he'd not told her about his magic earlier. Sirius had been very hurt by Harry's lack of trust, and though he'd understood Harry's reasoning and forgiven the action, it had made Harry regret not telling his godfather sooner.
He didn't want to hurt Hermione for even a moment.
He bypassed his bedroom and entered his office through the hall door. She looked around in wonder – this was more what Harry deserved. A nice leather chair sat behind a busy but organized large work table. A second chair like it sat against a side wall – it currently had a hoodie tossed on it. A leather sofa and ottoman were across the small room, and that's where Harry pulled Hermione. When she sat, she noticed that there were two large bookshelves behind Harry's desk, not one, and they were both loaded with books and bins of supplies. And one of those shelves was covered with magical books and supplies.
Harry… magic… her mind put it together quickly, as he knew she would.
"Harry, why didn't you tell me you still had magic?" Hermione asked, hurt.
"I didn't tell anyone, not even Sirius. If Dumbledore finds out, I'll be forced back to Hogwarts. Though I'm getting stronger every day, I'm not where I was. And if I go back to that castle, underpowered…"
"You'd be a sitting duck." She bit her lip, not meeting his eyes. "But you have to know I wouldn't tell, either."
He put his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "No, you wouldn't." The certainty in Harry's voice reassured her of his trust, but her remining confusion was evident. "But Sirius told me a couple of months ago, Snape and Dumbledore read thoughts. As the one student who still has contact with me, I'll bet they read yours on the regular. It's called legilimency."
"That can't be right!" Hermione was aghast at the lack of privacy.
Harry shrugged, "It's not legal, but you can't prove it happens, so how do you stop it? Well, there's a branch of magic called occlumency. I'm learning it. It'll help with being an animagus. I asked the goblins to make you a charm to block legilimency. It'll protect you until you learn yourself – I got you a book to help."
"How did you find out they do this?" She fingered the elegant charm that Harry had given her for Christmas – the owl was reminiscent of Hedwig and representative of Athena, goddess of wisdom, who Harry had cheesily yet sincerely said was what Hermione represented to him.
"I told Sirius how I always got headaches from Voldemort and Snape. He told me that Snape liked to plunder people's thoughts."
"That would explain why I had a headache after every detention," Hermione murmured
"Detention?" Harry was surprised and somehow amused. Hermione got detention? Impossible! "Someone's been holding back on me. Confess your sins!" He lightly jabbed her in the side, and she giggled. He was the only person who made her giggle. Then she thought about the detentions and her smile faded.
Hermione sighed heavily.
"I told you I'm not prefect anymore. That I gave back the badge." Harry nodded, remembering how she'd told him the barest of details and then shut the conversation down. He'd thought she didn't want an 'I told you so' from him, not that he'd have given her one. "Back in early November, Ron and I got called to the carpet by Professor McGonagall. I'd written two of our four prefect reports, and Ronald didn't write any. It was my line in the sand," she shrugged downplaying what still wanted to make her blood boil. "The git didn't do anything unless I made him, and I decided it was going to be the hill I went down on. I wasn't writing all the reports. Anyway, Professor McGonagall called us in. She was reprimanding me for Ronald's felony-level laziness, and I just lost the plot. I suppose you've been rubbing off on me."
He turned red and started giggling. Hermione blushed and smacked lightly at his arm, "Prat, not like that… no, I completely lost my temper! I accused her of being a terrible liar and just let loose on her, really. It's not funny!" She huffed at his continued giggles.
"Oh, it is. I can just see you full of righteous indignation giving McGonagall the what for. You really are my Athena – goddess of wisdom and warfare!" He kissed the top of her hair, hugging her to him. "Finish your story. What was the fallout?"
"Well, I quit the prefect position before she could fire me. She docked me fifty points – that bint never gives more than five points for anything, but if someone she expects better from lets her down? She comes out, guns blazing." His jaw dropped when he realized his Hermione had referred to McGonagall as a bint, cussing about her former favorite mentor. Things certainly had changed at Hogwarts! Hermione continued ranting, "Remember when she took fifty each from us for being out after curfew? The standard is 10. Anyway, she docked me fifty points and gave me two weeks' detention with Snape. And like I said, every night I left, my head hurt. I suppose he was digging for information about you, since he would bring you up every night at the end."
He hugged her again, knowing that the fall of her idol must have been really hard on her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly.
She snuggled into his chest. "You'd have gotten mad. What could you do about it? I was mad enough for both of us, and when we talked, I wanted to feel good."
He huffed. He understood now why she'd get so frustrated with him when he held things back from her. It was so hard to think of her suffering through that, alone.
He held her more closely. "I'll make you a deal. I won't hold back anymore, and you don't either. You're my best friend, Hermione. I don't want you to suffer alone. Okay?"
She nodded, smiling into his chest as she inhaled the scent of him and ran her hand up his arm. "Merlin," she sighed, "I can't believe how fit you've gotten. And you're so much taller than I am now."
He chuckled, running his hands through her hair then settling back with his arm around her as she snuggled back into him. "There's not much to do here but study and work out. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of studying to do since I'm going to take OWLS as well as GCSE's. Sirius is going to sign me up for the home school version of OWLS in June, just after you guys."
She sat up, "I thought you said you didn't tell him?" She was trying not to accuse, but it was hard.
He held up his hand in a gesture of peace. "Pax! I didn't. He found out. I had some accidental magic…"
"To have accidental magic at our age means you were really, really upset… unless your magic is wonky?"
"Not wonky. No. But yeah, I was really upset…"
"Tell me?" She didn't demand, but asked, concern in her voice.
He told her of the horcrux, and how he had been one, and how Dumbledore had probably known but done nothing. He told of the prophecy, and how Dumbledore had heard it and knew Harry was the subject of the prophecy. Dumbledore's certain knowledge of the ghost curse came up along with the fact that he controlled all of the mail that Harry could see. He told of the loyalty curse and the subjugation hex and how Dumbledore had to have known, from when Harry was at the Dursleys, that he'd be in for a terrible time, but Dumbledore had done nothing to help. He'd never done anything to help.
Hermione's eyes were tear-filled by the end of the telling. Headmaster Dumbledore had isolated and cursed Harry in order to ensure that Harry would look to the headmaster as his only source of inspiration and follow Dumbledore's plans to the end. At least, that was how it seemed.
"I wonder what his plans for you were? How did he intend to destroy the soul piece in your head?"
Harry sighed. "Remus, Sirius, and I have talked it over. Not because it's a pleasant source of conversation, but because it needs to be understood. We think maybe he was planning on making me a martyr. Hexing me to be so… courageous and unselfish, when Dursley life pretty had me being the opposite… "
His voice was quiet and almost shamed at the knowledge that he didn't want to be a martyr. He wasn't that good of a person. He certainly didn't want to die for a society that treated him like rubbish the vast majority of the time.
Hermione held his hand and rubbed gently. "Harry, please look at me. It was all lies. You're not a martyr if you're being misled and misdirected. He wanted to victimize you, but he couldn't. You're a survivor. You're strong and smart and loyal and brilliantly magical. Don't feel guilty. We'll beat Tom Riddle without the headmaster's stupid plan. Just watch!"
That she knew just what was bothering him told just how well she knew him. That she knew just what to say to help him understand was his own miracle.
"I am more and more convinced that your postulate: most adults are worthless scum – is accurate."
"I believe I used the term arsehole."
"Yes, well, I have a broader vocabulary than you do. McGonagall, head of the pride, has zero ethics. Molly Weasley cursed you on that first train ride, I'll bet, if not when you stayed at the Burrow. She's supposed to be the lightest of the light! Flitwick lets kids get hazed in his house. My own parents are stand-offish at best. But, maybe Pomphrey was just cursed. And the three downstairs seem to be fully behind you?"
He nodded. "And my healer, too. It's why Snape's not there to dig through your thoughts anymore."
"The mirror!" Hermione exclaimed. "He – and the headmaster, we must believe – know about the mirror!"
Harry frowned, "I really hate that Dumbledore can't leave me be. I'll bet he'll try to spy on our chats, if he doesn't already. Since he lost Snape, he's probably pretty desperate for info on his little prophecy boy. I still can't believe he let Pomphrey violate her healers' oaths."
"Well, Snape actually cursed Madame Pomphrey. But still, the headmaster let that happen. I can't believe that Dumbledore just sacrifices the health of the students and no one – not one single parent or teacher – notices."
Harry shrugged. "He looks at people as tools. He allows them some freedoms so long as they perform the action he needs. I think McGonagall might be cursed by Dumbledore. If he was willing to let Snape ghost curse me and curse the school's healer, if he was willing to put a subjugation curse – dark, nasty stuff, that - on me, a loyalty hex or curse would be nothing."
"Subjugation is straightforward hideousness. Molly Weasley cursed you with loyalty – much more subtle but just as heinous. That woman wanted you in the Weasley clan, under her thumb. I guess my theory about her being mad because her daughter will never be Lady Potter was on the nose."
Speaking of noses, Harry's wrinkled. "Gross. Ginny looks like my sister from another mister. Of course, Mrs. Weasley, being a pureblood, might think I'd find sister-fucking attractive."
Hermione lightly smacked his arm. "Language. And disgusting!"
Harry chuckled. "Living with two marauders full time, my language – my very filter between my thoughts and my speech – have been quite altered. I need you to stick around more to keep me polite."
She turned toward him, one hand rising to twist in his hair. "Oh, is it lessons in etiquette you want from me?"
"Hmm," he leaned down, nibbling on her lips. "For example, is it polite to say that, though I really love talking to you daily, I miss holding you, feeling your body against mine?" He pulled that body closer to his, and she straddled his lap trying to help him. His hands ran down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her to him as his lips thoroughly explored hers.
He pulled back and started nibbling on her neck, finding a spot just below her ear that made her insides melt. "Is it impolite to say that I wish you were staying here with me, just you and me, together, completely?"
His hands touched her more intimately than they had in the past, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough.
"I'd say your etiquette is just fine," she said breathily, moving in his lap, trying to find some kind of relief. "But your timing is not. I have to be back home in less than an hour and there are three adults downstairs who could walk in on us at any time."
He leaned his forehead against her, breathing heavily, willing himself to calm. Did he wish for more time? Yes. But a year ago, where had he been? He smiled.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered. Her eyes filled with happy tears.
"Ditto." She answered. They had watched Ghost together that summer, and he knew just what she meant. She hugged him and gently pulled away. He helped her stand and he just looked down at her, kiss rumpled, love bite just under her hair, and he grinned wickedly, knowing he probably looked the same.
"Best Christmas Ever."
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Voldemort sat in a dusty old keep in Albania. He hated this country. It reminded him of his beloved Nagini, as he had found her here, that maladictus forever cursed into her serpentine form, his most faithful servant… now dead. Albania represented all the years of barely surviving as an untethered spirit. Had anyone captured him, there was magic that could have enslaved him, made him a djinn. But he had known Albania well; it was the only place that had a circle so soaked in his own magics that it could harbor his spirit and help him keep his sanity.
Thus was the reason he was back in Albania among all the memories. He had plans to use that circle a week hence: the vampire was under stasis and would be offered in ritual sacrifice the full moon after yule. Had Voldemort not made so many horcrux, his power would have been increased markedly. But the research Tom had frantically completed - and his prodigious mind had not been affected by anything he'd done so far – led him to a startling and disturbing conclusion. His magic was wonky. Simple magical communion gave him far less of a boost than it should. He began to believe that the one tome he'd had that had warned of making more than one horcrux may just have been right. His soul was so slivered, so diminished, that he could not receive more magic from any ritual than that piece of soul could receive. One seventh of what he was due – potentially one eighth.
It made a terrible sense. The Potter boy had hosted a horcrux. Had he but known! The dementors had kissed that fragment, and it – like its source – had done all it could to hold on to this plane of existence. Voldemort had felt the pull that evening, wondered at it… and then Nagini had gone feral.
All of his horcrux were gone, joined by that piece in Potter and destroyed by the dementor – he had to believe that. His magic was now radically diminished, permanently. All because he had violated his own soul.
Magic and the soul were indelibly linked. If it weren't so utterly devastating, he'd be tempted to write a research paper about it. Instead, upon the discovery, he went on a killing spree the likes had not been seen since Grindlewald's wolves went rabid. Now, the calm had enveloped him again. He waited for the moon on the fifth to get what he could from the vampire, hoping that woman's clan didn't find her first. And he stewed, trying to figure out a way around the quagmire he'd found himself in.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Hermione and her parents were set to go away for the holidays. Harry and Hermione had quite the bon-voyage snog-fest on his office couch and said their goodbyes under the teasing-tolerance of Sirius, Remus, and Tonks.
He had not expected her to show up again the following morning, her trunk in her hand, and tears in her eyes. "Hermione? Come in!" When she was in the foyer, she dropped her trunk and threw herself into his arms. Sirius and Remus came along and saw Harry comforting Hermione as she wept. He murmured and rocked and drew his hand through her hair, his face an agony as he waited to hear what had happened.
When she had calmed a little, she pulled away.
"I… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Her eyes watered again and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Sirius, I'm sorry for barging in. I have to ask if I can beg for a place to stay until the train goes back?"
Sirius's brow furrowed. "Of course, Kreacher, can you please take Hermione's trunk to her room? It is read for her?"
"Yes Master Sirius. Kreacher do." Winky popped in then with Crookshanks and the last of Hermione's things, following Kreacher to her mistress's new room.
Harry drew Hermione into the main house. Dobby popped in with a tea set and nodded as Harry pulled Hermione onto a couch. Remus began to pour a cup and Harry directed him to put honey and a drop of milk in.
"Can you tell me what happened? Was it death eaters? Are your parents okay?"
Hermione's eyes hardened. "Not death eaters. And I could not care less about my parents right now."
Remus's eyes widened hearing the anger and betrayal in that voice. When would these kids catch a break?
"Can you tell us what happened?" Sirius asked again, and after swallowing a bit of tea, Hermione nodded.
"Yesterday, I heard a message on the machine – telephones have answering machines that can record messages if you aren't available to answer?" At the nods from both men, she continued. "It was from a painting firm. They were painting the whole house while we were in France. I asked why they hadn't asked what color I'd like my room. They prevaricated – I was almost never there, blah blah blah. Then they went off into another room to discuss the issue without me around. Of course, they've been doing this for years. I've been half-afraid they'd pull me from Hogwarts, so I enchanted listening-runes after third year. They're not coming back to England. Their plan was to simply not let me leave France, withdrawing me from the magical world. They had no concern as to how this would impact me." Her eyes watered again, in anger and hurt.
"How firm are these plans?" Sirius asked, stirring his tea.
"They've already sold their practice and taken positions over there in my uncle's practice. And the house is on the market. I worried over it all night as I packed up all of my things so the room would be ready for the painters. This morning, they… they…" She thought back to the confrontation, and the harsh words that had been said.
As Hermione packed away the last dish in the cupboard after breakfast, she looked to her parents who were back from putting their luggage into the car.
"Are you ready to go, Hermione?"
"Why are you packing so much, Mother? If it's just a week at grand-mère's, why take what seems to amount to all of your wardrobe?"
Her mother looked to her father who then looked sternly at Hermione. "This magical situation is too tenuous. You being what you are has made us a target. It is only a matter of time before those monsters burn down our practice or our house – likely after torturing us. We need to leave. Get your things. We'll destroy your magical possessions on the other side of the channel."
But Hermione didn't move.
"You were just going to force me to move to France? In the middle of my most important year of schooling?" Hermione was so shocked by the idea – even though she knew it was coming, it was shocking to hear it directly from her father – that she confronted her parents directly, her plan of what to say and how to say it gone in the heat of the moment.
Her parents, shocked that she would fight against such a logical move were also honest.
"I would think you would trust us. We've always done what's best for you," her mother said, but the tone in her voice was not reassuring, it was guilty. Her mother knew this was not what was best for Hermione.
Hermione, though, had enough. Sixteen years of hands-off, barely tolerant parents who now decided they were going to do their level best to ruin her life? She let all of the resentment have its head. Her rejoinder had her parents pale in anger and guilt.
"The best for me? The best full-time nannies, so that you wouldn't have to deal with me. The best boarding schools so that you wouldn't have to deal with me. Now, people will 'talk' if you go to France without me. This is not about me. If it were, you wouldn't be ensuring that I fail both magical and normal exams in such a critical year. I'm not fluent enough to pass general exams in France on either side of the divide. But you don't care."
Her father spoke for the first time. He rarely spoke to his daughter as he could rarely say what he truly wanted to say. But this time, he would. The witch would learn her place. "We put a lot of funding into your schooling, young lady," he began, only to be interrupted Hermione, whose eyes were lit with fury and whose hair was beginning to show that her magic was building.
"No, my grandfather did. You approached Gringotts when I was small to get access, and my trust has been paying for all the nannies and schools and tutors. You've paid for nothing."
Sebastian Granger was bitter, and it showed. "That should have been my money."
"No, it shouldn't," Hermione corrected. "You don't respect the magical world; you shouldn't be able to benefit from it."
In the manner of all people in authority who try to force a bad, unilateral decision on their underlings, Hermione's father laid down the law… or attempted to. "We are still your parents. You will do as we say." His voice was cold with anger and certainty.
Hermione straightened, shook her head, then smirked coldly.
"You have to find me first. Winky! Take me to Harry's!"
The small elf appeared silently next to Hermione, glaring at the squibs who had hurt her mistress. She popped Hermione out of the room, then to Grimmauld, popping back quickly to get all of her mistress's things. She had wondered why Mistress Hermione had asked Winky to shrink all of her furniture and pack it this morning. Now she knew. Her mistress was very wise, but very sad. Winky wished she could go back and curse those stupid squibbies. Maybe she could… the library. She would pack their library with fake books and buggies that would eat all the books. And she would take all the good books for her mistress. That would be a good thing to do for her mistress.
Meanwhile, Hermione knocked on the door to number 12 and waited for Harry. She needed him. The reality of her situation fell on her, and she began to cry.
Hermione told the story of her parents' flight from Britain and how they wanted to force her to go, too.
"I don't want to start you up again, but wouldn't it make sense for you to go, at least this summer?" Remus asked.
"They don't actually want me there. They just don't want the rest of the family to talk because they left me behind. They never wanted me," she began to breathe heavily again as her eyes watered.
"Calmly Hermione. What are your options?" Sirius asked.
"I've run away. They don't know where this house is, though the mobile you gave me for Christmas has been ringing non-stop."
"You should answer. We could meet them somewhere."
"To what end? I won't go with them. They want to ruin what life I have." Hermione almost never acted like a moody teenager, so to see it almost made Remus laugh. But the situation was too serious.
"If nothing else, we need to have them sign over guardianship to Sirius or me. I have credentials in the muggle world, so that might make them more comfortable." The phone rang again. Hermione firmed her jaw then shoved the mobile at the wolf.
"Hello, Dr. Granger? No, I am Remus Lupin, I am a former professor of your daughter. I would put her on, but she refuses to speak with you. I could certainly attempt to bring her to you, or you to her, but there is no way I can make her stay. I understand. Yes, of course. I can assure you she is safe. There are three adults that live here currently; one is a female police officer. "
He paused, listening, and waited for a small bit before speaking again. "I know that tempers are high. However, I have been trying to calm Hermione. I believe we can talk her into joining you at summer break. That would be an acceptable compromise, would it not? Of course, of course. I would be willing to take on emergency guardianship for the term. I acutally have a job in the normal world at this point, so I can stand for her on both sides."
His shoulders lost some of their tension, and Hermione took that as a sign that her parents agreed with the compromise. "Of course. I will set up the paperwork. Once you are in France, please let me know where to meet you. I can pop over to get you to sign the paperwork at your convenience. Of course. Of course. Perhaps I can get her to talk to you now, I see her in the other room and she's stopped pacing and crying. Hold for a moment."
Though the witch had been eaves dropping the entire conversation – or the wolf's side of it – she looked startled when he offered the mobile.
"Hermione do you wish to speak with your mother? They will be losing their signal soon, so this will be your last chance."
She bit her lip and took a deep breath before putting the receiver to her ear.
"Mum?" Hermione's tension was visible. Her jaw was firm, her shoulders rigid. She took a deep breath as she listened to her mother speak.
"I understand your point. Do you understand mine?" She listened again as her mother's voice sounded accusing to Remus, who was trying not to listen.
"I do worry about you. I know you worry about me. But if you pull me now, you sabotage all of my education…. I'm willing to discuss transfer, but you can't make a unilateral decision... Not when I turn seventeen in a matter of months, you can't…. Of course. I'll send you a letter through Professor Lupin – he has access to regular post. Of course. Safe travels…. I love you, too." By the time her conversation ended, Hermione looked much better.
Winky popped in with tray of tea and Hermione flopped onto a settee. Harry sat next to her, holding her hand; rubbing her back.
"I'm so sorry, so very sorry that they did this to you."
"Sorry, but not surprised," she whispered bitterly.
Harry sighed. "You know how I feel about most adults. Like I feel about most people, actually. Growing up like I did doesn't lead to much trust. But I have your back. And Moony and Padfoot have ours. Tonks, too."
A hiccoughing deep breath caused Hermione to close her eyes, trying to center.
"Speaking of untrustworthy adults," She looked up at the two remaining marauders. "Harry and I figure that the headmaster knows about the mirrors. Sorry. I didn't realize that Snape was reading my mind on the regular – sick creeper."
Sirius sat on the chair next to the kids and fixed a cup of tea. Remus did the same and the group gradually calmed.
"He already knew about them – we actually have made them as emergency communications for the order last time and this time."
"How come mom and dad didn't use them to get help?" Harry asked.
"Albus said they would break the fidelius. You notice how much more open this house is even though we're under war wards. The fidelius is a bit tetchy."
"Seems like a weak charm to me." Harry stated, with no small amount of bitterness.
"No," Remus corrected after swallowing some tea, "it's actually a very strong charm, but doesn't play well with others."
"Why didn't they go under war wards?" Hermione asked, curious.
"War wards take years to build, and you have to have them tied to your family magics for them to set properly. Potter House was burned by death eaters; its ward stones completely destroyed. Though they ordered the house rebuilt and new wards set, they weren't war wards. James and Lily had no other options. Dumbledore offered his cottage with the fidelius." Sirius shrugged. "Only Peter knew the secret, and he supposedly only told me."
"This is something that has bothered me, though," Harry came back into the conversation. "How did Hagrid find me? How is it that the cottage is viewable to everyone now, as it must be, since it's a memorial?"
"Fidelius literally means faithful." The werewolf assumed his most academic persona, trying to distance himself of the pain of truth. "Peter broke that faith when he led Riddle to your parents. That broke the fidelius. It's how Dumbledore knew to send Hagrid. Of course, he thought Sirius had broken faith, but either way, he could tell Hagrid where they were, so he knew it was done."
Hermione shook her head. So much sadness just because Pettigrew was a terrible friend. She had to wonder if Ron would have gone that way, eventually. Holding hands with Harry, she gripped his fingers thinking about the betrayal that surely would have come, someday. And then, she felt his rings.
"What on earth?" she asked, feeling the rings more gently, trying to get an outline of the invisible finery.
Harry chuckled and allowed them to be visible. "Heir rings for Potter and Black," he indicated each heirloom. "They're like your necklace, on steroids. This one actually teaches me stuff."
She wrinkled her brow, narrowing her eyes, as she studied the rings. "What are the rings teaching you?" Their conversation drifted off to the realm of study, and exams, both in the magical and normal worlds.
"If it would help, I will grade any papers you'd like to send through Hedwig. Just to give you an outside eye. I have my university degree in economics."
Hermione let out a huff of laughter. A werewolf who continually looked like he lived on the street and he had a degree in econ. The world was a strange place.
The kids eventually wandered up to Harry's room to… do some studying. Sirius watched them with a jaundiced eye.
"They won't do anything you wouldn't have done, Padfoot."
Sirius raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Exactly what I'm worried about. We only had broom closets available to us." He sighed heavily. "Time to update the wards on this pile… again."
"Wait, you're going to take a responsible adult stance?" Remus was shocked. He had believed that he would be alone trying to protect his ward's innocence while his housemate spurred the pup onward in adventures of debauchery.
"I'm too young to be a grand-dogfather. Those kids think it's them against the world. I'd appreciate if you or Tonks could take Hermione aside and let her know about her options. I'll do the same with the pup. But first, I'm going to make some fine adjustments. No Harry on the guest floor… no Hermione in Harry's bedroom… hmm" he wandered off to the office to adjust the wards while Remus shook his head.
Three days later, Remus popped to Paris. He met with the Grangers at a café of their choice. Hermione's mother's eyes were shadowed, and he could tell that she felt guilt in signing over her child. But she believed – hoped - it was temporary.
Hermione's father didn't hesitate at all.
They signed emergency guardianship over to Remus. He thanked them; assured them he would always be available by phone and would send them post weekly.
Meanwhile, Sirius kept tweaking the wards as he read his ancestors journals. The kids seemed to be mostly in control – they hadn't even commented on not being allowed in each others' bedrooms… but they were kids. It was enough to make a man's prematurely-grey hair fall out. And Sirius was proud of his hair, so that would never do.
The next few days were a study of patience. The kids would study or work in Harry's office – most of the time. Harry, loving having a companion – nevermind his girlfriend – to chat with, quickly moved to discussions about topics magical and mundane. The two would quiz each other and Harry worked hard because the reward system for winning was totally worth it. But it seemed almost like Sirius and Remus and Tonks had a sixth sense for when the rewards were getting a bit too personal. The adults even roped the elves into the separation plan. Just when things were getting interesting for the kids, someone would pop in and put the kibosh on their good time.
While Harry would work on the meals – he still liked cooking – Hermione would "help" and only twice were they interrupted by kissy noises or gagging noises from one of the three adults. That was all it took. When Harry cooked, Hermione read in another room. They kept their interludes to Harry's office from then on, noticing early on that Hermione could not go into his bedroom… and Harry couldn't even go on the floor where Hermione's bedroom was.
They were taking a study break one afternoon, and Hermione had put a privacy ward on the room. She was determined to get some satisfaction not of her own creation that afternoon. Just as Harry unbuttoned her top and moved his lips to the curve of her breast, a klaxon like sound erupted throughout the floor.
The kids separated hastily, panicked. Was someone attacking the house? Sirius came to the door of the room at a sedate pace, laughing at the look on Harry's face. Hermione was furious.
"What the bloody hell?" Harry asked, finally realizing that this was a marauder prank.
"Child monitoring charms – just applied them this morning. Black children weren't allowed physical contact because we were likely to kill one another. You two aren't likely to kill one another, but Moony and I are trying to take our responsibilities seriously. He was quite surprised to find I would be an ally in this, actually. But though we trust you both, we also know what temptation is."
"That's why I can't go onto the guest floor?" Harry asked while Hermione burned with embarrassment.
Sirius nodded. "Hermione can't enter your bedroom, either. That was a hard ward to set, but it's working out just fine."
"While I appreciate the position you're in," Hermione tried to be reasonable through her embarrassment and extreme sexual frustration, "don't you think you could have talked it over with us?"
"Forewarned is forearmed. I remember being a teenager and needing to get into a girl's knickers. I learned all the rules to figure out how to break them."
"I'm not you, Sirius," Harry countered, still battling his own embarrassment.
"No, but you're a red-blooded male with a hot little girlfriend living in the same house. I don't think either one of you needs any more of the talk – I know I embarrassed the heck out of you with the discussion back in September. But this will just help keep you honest – and your virtue intact."
Harry got a mulish look in his eye even as Hermione nodded her reluctant agreement. Through the next week – their last together – the teens worked hard and hardly played at all.
The day before Hermione was to go back to Scotland, Harry had enough.
"I have a surprise. Do you trust me?"
"Of course!"
"OK then, put on your glamour ring."
"Harry, we shouldn't go out without an adult."
"Dobby and Winky are going to go with us. They'll watch for magicals and make sure we don't get tagged with a spell. Come on. It's our last day together and I'm sick of not even being able to hold your hand. You'll like what I've planned… I promise."
His green eyes pled with hers and she knew she'd never be able to refuse him when he asked like that. They snuck out of the house just in time to catch a local bus. If anyone saw them leave, they'd be hard-pressed to keep up with the kids as they were traveling full muggle.
Harry took Hermione to an ice-skating rink. They learned together and were quite proficient in circling after an hour. He took her to get hot chocolate then to a bookstore. They whiled away just a bit of the afternoon before going back to pay the piper.
When they got back to the house, Sirius was practically apoplectic. He hugged the two of them when they came in the door, his relief evident. But relief soon gave way to anger.
"Where have you been? I've been worrying about this for hours! I couldn't send Kreacher because he said you were in the muggle world. Why didn't you take your phone, Hermione?"
"I did, I just had it powered off to save the battery." Hermione bit her lip.
"Where have you been?"
"Ice skating," Harry said defiantly.
"Ice skating. You decided to shirk all of our safety measures so you could go ice skating?" His sneer would have made Snape jealous, and Harry's back went further up.
"Yeah. I took an afternoon off from studying, working out, cooking, and general productivity to have a few hours with my girlfriend – my best friend – before she disappears for another three months."
"You should have asked! We could have planned something here!" Sirius raked his hand through his hair.
"Right," Harry sneered, "So you guys could make fun of Hermione and me again. Just because you haven't had a date in two decades you have to sabotage the only relationship I have with another person my age. I wanted time with my best friend. Time where I could just be me and she could just be her and we didn't have to worry about stupid alarms and stupider adults."
"Stupider is not a word." Sirius sighed. It was the first time Harry had rebelled to Sirius, and the animagus took some comfort in the fact that it meant that his pup was feeling a bit more secure in their relationship. He could blow up without fear that Sirius would leave. But the Potter resentment and the Evans temper were making a perfect storm of teenage angst, and Harry let it go with both barrels. "I understand your frustration. But please don't leave the house without one of us adults. Please understand, we're just trying to keep you safe."
"Just like Dumbledore kept me safe at the Dursleys, right? I get food now, I guess that's good." He was being unfair and he knew it, but Harry was just so frustrated.
"Harry," Hermione said calmly, all the guilt she had suppressed earlier roaring back, "you know why you have to be in the house."
"Yeah, I get it. I've been stuck with Sirius and Remus for months. You leave tomorrow. I just wanted to spend time with you, and only you."
Sirius sighed and tried again. "I realize you're young and chomping at the bit for some freedom."
"That's right. I'm a kid. Sometimes I think you forget that." Harry sighed, shaking his head. Hermione bit her lip, wanting to leave, wanting to support Harry, and not knowing what to do. "Right now, I have zero interaction with other people my own age, and I work every waking minute. I wanted to blow off some steam with my best friend. We went ice skating. With our glamour rings on. We had Dobby check us for tracking charms, even though my rings and Hermione's necklace stop them and scrying charms."
"But if you were attacked by a wizard or witch, you'd be helpless. A day out isn't worth that. Look," Sirius tried to appeal, "I spent twelve years in prison for a crime I didn't commit. I would think you'd know I have some sympathy for your plight."
"Right. Way to go for the guilt-trip. You're picking up this parenting thing like a duck to water." Harry said with a small amount of bitterness. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry I worried you. But as you've told me, it's sometimes better to ask for forgiveness than permission."
Harry had yielded some ground, so Sirius decided to meet him half-way. "Well, I can't say I was expecting that to rebound on me. You really have a habit of repeating me to me at the worst moments."
Seeing the storm had passed, Hermione excused herself to change clothes and take a bath. Soon she would be back at a castle were the only bath was for prefects, and she was no longer one of those.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
While Harry was blowing up at Sirius for being a good, conscientious guardian, Remus met with Dumbledore to track down the former horcrux at the home of Marvolo Gaunt.
As Remus landed at the apparition point for Follifoot, a mixed village near Harrowgate, he looked around. Dumbledore stood, almost dull in his not-quite-muggle clothing, talking to an older woman who was obviously of wizarding means. When he noticed Remus had arrived, he excused himself and made his way to the younger wizard.
"Remus, good afternoon." He smiled serenely and shook hands. "Let us have some tea and discuss the plans our heist." The wording broke the small amount of tension Remus held, dealing with this man who held such a dichotomy in the wolf's heart and mind.
"Of course, Headmaster," Remus chuckled and followed to a small teashop.
Dumbledore ordered a pot and a tray of small sandwiches and biscuits then surreptitiously cast a muffiliato on their table.
"I hope you do not mind the liberties I've taken. I had some small knowledge that Tom has traveled to the continent for Yule, and my scrying spells indicated just this morning that the last of his henchmen have left the ancestral property. I put up a bit of a ward that will trip if any return. We are now simply waiting for dusk to make ourselves as innocuous as possible. I assume you will not need the night vision spell?"
"No, sir. My vision is unimpeded by the dark. One of the things I can thank the wolf for."
"Alas, I would call it a silver lining, but I fear the wolf may take offense?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
Remus pointed a finger at the headmaster and smiled, "Touché!"
"Yes, I have had to rely solely on scrying spells now that Severus has been lost to the healer's inquiry. The board will not let him back in the castle."
Remus raised an eyebrow. "Surely you understand that? His actions may have led to the harm of students."
The tea was delivered, breaking the small privacy ward. Dumbledore thanked the server genially then raised the ward again.
"I understand and even sympathize with the position of the board. It is simply such a shame that I have lost any insight into Tom's movements. But speaking of the inquiry, it seems to me that Severus may well have used his influence on Poppy to harm Mr. Potter. Though he won't fully be able to take advantage of magical healing, as he is a squib, perhaps Sirius ought to try to find a healer that will attempt any missing treatments?"
Remus sipped at his tea after he swallowed a small bite of a cress sandwich. "Both Harry and Sirius were in bad shape. They tried to work through with nutrition and exercise, but as soon as Sirius found a muggleborn healer that would see Harry, off they went."
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "I must assume that is who turned Poppy in." Remus sighed, realizing that was the information that Dumbledore was digging for, and Remus had given it straight away. "Alas, I wish Sirius had consulted me before doing this thing. Now that Severus has been removed from the equation, it will be that much harder to defeat Tom."
Remus put down his cup and stared at Dumbledore in stunned horror. "You put Severus Snape's freedom above the health of your own students?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Not all of the students. Just young Harry, Remus. It is, of course, regrettable, but you know well that Severus had his reasons."
Disdain filled the werewolf. "You think that anything could excuse him hurting any child? Snape had a grudge against James, yes, and Sirius, too. But Harry? He was an innocent! He was Lily's child, for Merlin's sake, and Severus claims to have loved Lily!"
Dismissing the argument, Dumbledore shook his head. "Severus was critical to our cause. He's irreplaceable."
"He hurt more than Harry, you know. Hermione wasn't treated properly, so I assume none of the basilisk victims were."
Sighing, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "There is no evidence that the obedience curse was from Severus. I suspect Lucius in this, as it was his plot that benefitted. At any rate, I shall not cry over spilled potion. I assume Mr. Potter is in much better health, now?"
Remus took a deep breath in and let it out as a puff. "Harry is much stronger mentally, physically, and emotionally. Being attacked this summer was probably the best thing to happen to him since his parents were killed, strange as that sounds. For some reason, that seems to be something you didn't want to hear," Remus accused the solemn headmaster who tilted his head.
"I am, of course, glad for young Mr. Potter. And as the attack seems to also have affected Tom, I suppose it was for the best for all of us, in the end."
Remus couldn't quite understand the reticence behind the older man's words. He didn't want to believe the conclusion that Sirius had drawn: that Dumbledore tried to make Harry as weak as possible, as the prophecy stated Voldemort would be Harry's equal. It was disgusting to the wolf that a child would be so mistreated, let alone by the man who was supposed to nurture many of the nation's children. If people knew what this man had done to the child fully entrusted to his care, they'd never allow him within miles of Hogwarts castle.
"Yes," Remus answered, needing to change the topic. "The loss of his treasures, the loss of his financial backers, and the loss of his followers in Azkaban can all be directly traced to the attack."
"So much death," Dumbledore mused, his unfocused eyes looking out the window at the setting winter sun. He sighed. "Unavoidable, I suppose. At any rate, today we shall be dismantling some very potent and effectual wards around the ancestral Gaunt home. Gaunt was the family name of Tom's mother. She was, from all I can find, a near squib with a talent in potions. She was briefly married to the heir of a prominent local landowner in the hamlet of Little Hangleton. It is about five miles east of here, as the crow flies. We can apparate to a point not too far from the shack, but we must walk from there."
As Remus finished his last biscuit – eating became easier as Dumbledore outlined the task in front of them – he pulled out his wallet to pay. "No, my boy, I have this. I issued the invitation, after all."
The two men walked out and apparated as agreed. Many hours' work took them through the late afternoon to the early evening. Remus kept an eye on the perimeter wards and the scrying spells that Albus had raised while the older man worked on the wards around the shack, in the floor, and finally, on the box.
When it opened to reveal a plain ring with a strange, round gray stone in it, the headmaster seemed captivated. When he reached for the stone that still stunk of poison and curse to the werewolf, Remus summoned the whole box. Dumbledore looked at him with eyes cold and crisp and angrier than Remus had ever seen. Closing the box, Remus put it in his personal mokeskin bag then ran to the apparition point. The headmaster was behind him but being younger and much fitter, Remus easily bested the old man and apparated out.
The werewolf found his way to a floo and spun into Grimmauld Place. "Sirius, Sirius," he called, but the man himself was already running into the floo reception room, having been alerted by his wards to Remus's unplanned arrival.
"Moony? What's going on?"
Just then, he felt someone pinging at his wards, testing them. They would hold, he knew.
"This ring, I had to take it from Dumbledore. He was going to put it on. It reeks of curse, Sirius. But when I took it from him… he raised his wand as if to attack me."
"Let's get the curses and compulsions off of it. Can't you hear it calling to you to put it on?" Sirius asked.
Remus shook his head. "Must be a benefit of being a wolf. I assume your ring is protecting you?"
Sirius nodded. "Let's take this to the ritual room." They went quickly, not noticing that Harry had also come down the stairs at the pinging of the wards. He'd asked Hermione to stay on the third floor as it was a Black family matter and for Dobby and Winky to guard her. She didn't like being left behind, but knew that, now that he had grown, they couldn't both hide under the cloak easily. And if they were too close, the dratted alarms would go off again.
He would call for her if he needed help. And he would explain everything afterwards.
Harry followed the two men and watched as they cleared the compulsions and the curses from the ring. As the ring, magically held on the center of the adder-stone ritual table, began to glow, Harry noted the markings on it.
Sirius ended his chant and the ring clattered, cleansed, on the stone, and Harry gasped in recognition. Sirius and Remus both turned to glare in the direction of the nosy teenager, who had taken off the cloak.
"I think that's mine." Harry whispered in a strange tone of voice, not taking his eyes from the ring.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, his voice low, not liking the look in Harry's eye; not wanting his boy to be tied up with this cursed piece of Voldemort.
"Dobby, bring the grimoire?" Harry called. The elf popped in with the book and bowed, handing it to Harry. "Tell Hermione so far everything is fine, but someone is still trying to get in." Dobby nodded then popped away again. Harry showed the Potter grimoire to his uncles.
"Look – here's the symbol of my family" – on the cover of the grimoire, was the sign for the deathly hollows – though none of them knew that – and it was the same as the carving in the stone on the ring.
"That was a sign that Grindelwald used, also," Remus stated
"Grindlewald?" Harry was flummoxed. "This is the sign for my original family – the Peverells. The Potters got the family grimoire and combined it with theirs. I just read about it a few weeks ago."
Sirius took the stasis and sticking charms off the ring and went to pick it up now that it was clean. It fairly flew off the table at Harry, and his seeker's instincts had him catching it.
"I suppose it is yours, then," Remus said in wonder.
Harry put the plain ring on his wand hand, on his ring finger. The glow of a head-of-house ring being donned occurred. Harry smiled. "Yeah," he breathed, listening to a voice neither of the other men could hear.
"He's getting the family magic download," Sirius sighed, shaking his head. "I'd better inform Grimsneer. That's a head of house ring, not an heir ring. I wonder if this will affect Harry's standing in the Potter family?"
Harry stood, breathing deeply as the Peverell ring began to acquaint itself with the new head of house. Through the times when Harry slept, it would do as the Potter and Black heir rings were and teach Harry the family secrets not written in the grimoire.
But for now, the pinging on the wards had become a cacophony. If Sirius didn't do something, the wards would irrevocably harm whoever was trifling with them, and he didn't want to go back to Azkaban because his house ate a death eater. He and Remus made their way to the floo room to investigate which death eater would be finding his way to Azkaban today.
It wasn't a death eater, though. It was Dumbledore. And as soon as he found welcome in the ward (as Sirius didn't want to be blamed for killing Dumbledore, either), he apparated into the reception room.
"Where is it?" he demanded of the two younger wizards. His eyes blazed as he held his wand at chest level.
"The curses on it affected you badly, Headmaster. It had compulsions that my wolf could ignore. Sirius and I cleansed them off the ring, and as soon as it was clean, it disappeared."
The aged headmaster's hand shook as his fury was potent and obvious.
"It was obviously a head of house ring, Dumbledore." Sirius interjected, trying to bring some peace into the room. "As with most family rings, once it was cleansed it returned to either the rightful head of house or the corresponding Gringott's vault."
It was clear that Dumbledore didn't believe them. His hand still trained his wand on Remus. As it lifted fractionally, a silent, invisible figure rushed through the room. Harry, who'd been watching the entire confrontation with his cloak on, was furious. This man threatened his uncles? Harry had taken well to the self-defense courses he'd had at the gym and lashed out at the old man. He had enough anger stored up at Dumbledore to make a punch practically lethal, but he simply knocked the man out.
As Dumbledore fell, Harry kicked the wand out of his hand and pulled off the cloak, stashing it in his mokeskin bag again. "Hurt my family, will you? You old tosser." He muttered, picking up the wand.
Sparks? Fireworks? Cataclysm? Who could describe the bonding that occurred when Harry picked up that wand? Though it was no more than a moment or two, all three people in the room were stunned speechless. When Dumbledore started to stir, Sirius looked at Harry.
"We need to figure out what just happened, but first…" he made a copy of Dumbledore's wand, snapped it, and threw it in fireplace, watching it burn. "Now, get out of here. Get up to your office and calm your witch – I'll get this guy out of our house. Should have let the wards fry him," Sirius mumbled.
As he waved his own wand over the insensate, geriatric wizard, Sirius stewed. Then Dumbledore began to stir and Sirius stepped back. He kept his wand trained on the old man, though.
"My wand?" the older man mumbled, his eyes closed and his hand massaging his sore jaw.
"What's left of it is in the fireplace," Sirius growled. "Get out of my house, Albus."
"You destroyed my wand?" The older man looked at the younger wizard who was still glaring and pointing his own wand at Albus. The older wizard became enraged again, and his aura started to surface.
"You attacked a protected member of my house IN my house. I could have killed you. I didn't. Now, get out."
Something in Sirius's visage got through to the older wizard and his own fury fell away. Dumbledore was a beaten man. He'd found the stone, lost the stone, and lost the wand all in a day. The cloak was gone because he'd isolated young Potter in that awful house.
The hallows were gone, and he couldn't help but think it was his fault.
He got up, under dual wand point, threw floo powder into the fireplace, avoiding looking at the remnants of the death stick, and made his way back to Hogwarts in shame.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Things were tense in number 12 Grimmauld place. First, Harry and Hermione had snuck off for the afternoon while Remus was off with the Headmaster and Tonks was on shift. Sirius had been at his wits' end with worry.
Then, after a short confrontation with his godson, Sirius had been confronted with a huge problem in the form of an attack by Dumbledore, of all people. The man had gone bonkers over some ugly ring and had been ready to do some injury to both Sirius and Remus – and hadn't Harry just wandered into the middle of that situation, too?
It was like the kid had no sense of self-protection or worth.
Reminded Sirius of himself, actually, as he'd discovered in his mind-healing sessions.
He needed to have a real come to Merlin with the kid, but didn't want to be the heavy, either. It was a conundrum. He approached Harry's office after a tense, silent supper, meaning to try to bridge the gap. The conversation he heard made him pause.
"You should apologize to Sirius. We really don't have anyone in our corner except him and Professor Lupin."
"I know, it's just – you don't understand. I feel like a prisoner and my only crime was being born. My whole life has been one form of isolation or another. I never really thought about it until they started making me go to a mind healer. Now I see how messed up it's always been. At the Dursleys, at Hogwarts, here…" he ran his hand through his hair. "You're leaving tomorrow and it's back to the grind."
"Just until March. It's not so long this time. Spring Equinox break is coming…"
"And we have to take GCSE's." Harry's voice wasn't bitter, it was tired – old before his time. "Maybe your parents had the right of it. Maybe we should leave Britain."
"Do you think that would stop it? Running away never really solves problems."
Harry swallowed his resentment and bitterness. It was their last night. He needed to try to end on a positive note. "Well, hopefully I can go to normal school next year and that will tamper down my crazy."
Hermione saw what he was doing and played along with a forced grin. "Ha! You're always going to be a little mad, Harry. You're magical. The entire magical world is mad," she said whimsically.
"I hate to break it to you…" They looked at each other, and this time the smiles weren't forced.
"Yeah, I know I've got to watch for it. I'm magical too." She sighed. "But it'll get better. You'll see."
"You're right. Because you're always right."
"That's what I'm saying!" Hermione agreed magnanimously. "Now, I've synched our study journals so we're – literally – on the same page with non-magical studies. I've picked up some of your enchanting project suggestions. I like the idea of a bottomless bag. And maybe being an animagus. It can't hurt to try."
"Well, if you get stuck, it can hurt, but in generalities…"
Sirius wandered away. Hermione was such a good influence on his boy.
