Chapter 2
Seventh Year
Harry sat quietly all the way back to Privet Drive, listening to the beautiful symphony of his uncle cursing the government for their laws, children for not letting sleeping dogs lie, and motorists that must have found their license in the street rather than going through tests and inspections like law-abiding people should.
He was slightly peeved at not being able to remove his cloak and hood for a while, as the sun was shining and tempting him.
As they pulled up to number four, Harry felt the car get lighter of its own accord, and looked behind to see that his trunk and cage had gone. He had sensed no danger, but decided to investigate once he got to his room. Uncle Vernon was very surprised to find that Harry wasn't even taking his trunk out, and nearly had an aneurism when he found there was no trunk in the car.
In the living room, Harry could both smell and hear aunt Marge, as she was drinking heavily from a glass of sherry.
Harry would have gone up the stairs without notice if fear didn't run up his spine. His mate was in danger!
No sooner had he thought this, before a huge hulking form of a beast stood in his place, as tall as a man at the shoulders, green glowing eyes, and a black mist that seemed to stay close to the fur and making it look like it was made of shadows.
Dudley was the one watching that was the most frightened, as those green eyes turned on him, and a deep rumbling growl was heard.
The beast pounced at Dudley, making the terrified boy wet himself and shriek in fear. He genuinely believed his last hour was up.
Before the beast of a panther made any contact with Dudley, it seemed to sink into his shadow, as though it were a doorway.
The residents of number four Privet Drive were all terrified of where that hulking beast might appear next.
On the other end of London, Hermione was crawling backwards and away from the Death Eaters towering over her. Tonks and Dung were busy defending her parents and she had lost her wand a few moments into the battle. The Death Eaters wouldn't let her get close enough for her Martial Arts training to be effective, and in her distress, she had stepped on a rock and fallen on her bum.
Hermione knew that she would either be killed on the spot as a Mudblood or she would be tortured into insanity for being friends with Harry.
The middle Death Eater removed her mask to reveal Bellatrix Lestrange, a maniacal grin on her face.
'Well, well, well,' she started and took a step closer. 'It's the Mudblood friend of ickle baby Potter. What an unexpected pleasure.'
'She will make a good bait,' commented the Death Eater on Bellatrix's right, 'she and Potter are supposed to be an item. He's bound to come for her when he hears we have her.'
Any further musings were interrupted by a threatening growl.
'Did you hear that?' asked the one on the left.
'Sounded too much like an angry Nundu for my tastes …' mumbled the fourth. 'And I know what they sound like, I used to hide in Africa to avoid Aurors.'
'Come to your senses, dolts,' snapped Bellatrix. 'We are too far north for a Nundu to roam about, and besides, do you see anything big enough to hide a creature bigger than an elephant? It must have been one of those Muggle inventions, cars I think.'
The growl returned with an undertone of a yowl.
'I- I d-d-don't kn-know about you, Lestrange, b-bu-b-but I'm not about to s-stay here and find out if I heard right or if it's a trick,' stuttered the one on the right.
'Fine, we bring the little Mudblood with us, but you will be he ones to explain to the Dark Lord why you were frightened of something you can't see,' snapped Bellatrix, but her snappish attitude seemed to be cover for fear.
However, as the three stooges tried to step closer to Hermione, a shadow leapt out at them, bowling the four over and pressing them into the ground with its massive size. The four Death Eaters shrieked in fear as they stared into the steaming maw of the largest panther to ever walk the earth, easily larger than a rhinoceros, and with claws that merely looked like they could shred an armoured tank, but instinctively everyone knew they could do more. The deep rumbling growl this beast of huge teeth and claws made was enough to distract the five Death Eaters that were trying to get past Tonks and Dung to the Grangers, and the two Order members took the advantage.
The four that were being pressed into the ground found themselves unable to move, and the beast was not likely to let them either.
Hermione, who had by now gotten back to her feet and found her wand, stared at the beast before carefully approaching it.
The beast looked up with its piercing green eyes and started purring before pouncing her. The four on the ground were unable to move, as not only did one or two of them sport broken limbs, but what appeared like ropes sprung out of their shadows and bound them tightly, gagging them and blindfolding them.
Hermione had a brief moment of panic before she was bowled over by an extremely large kitten that started licking her face.
The beast vanished and a fairly handsome man was kneeling in its place. Hermione looked up to see familiar green eyes and lightning bolt scar, and realised instantly whom her saviour was.
'Harry!' she shrieked so loudly that only Harry caught it. She now lunged at him, nearly choking him with her excited strength.
'I'm back,' Harry breathed into Hermione's neck. Although it felt nearly just as when he had the changed form, he knew he was normal again, yet it surprised him that he was still as tall and strong as he was in his changed form. When Hermione yelped slightly as Harry drew back, he also realised that he needed a shave.
'I missed you,' Hermione whispered before forcing his head into a passionate, yet chaste, kiss.
As the kiss ended, Harry saw that Dung and Tonks were finishing the securing of their prisoners.
'I have to go now,' said Harry sadly. 'But I'll be back tomorrow whether Dumbledore allows me or not.'
Hermione sees the look he sent at Tonks and Dung, and agreed, whispering to him to come after six in the evening so they could have dinner first.
A quick peck later, Harry Apparated away, reappearing at the exact same spot he had vacated in number four Privet Drive.
'What is the meaning of this, boy?' demanded uncle Vernon once Harry stepped within view of the living room, where both Dudley and aunt Marge lay unconscious to the world. Aunt Marge sported a very large stain of red on her blouse.
'I was needed,' answered Harry calmly, it was an odd feeling; being unable to properly express himself for so long only to regain the ability again, 'and I went to help. Now, I believe Marjory needs to have her memory altered, as our laws dictate she must, Obliviate!'
Aunt Marge twitched on the ground. Not being the most proficient in memory altering charms, Harry had to give verbal instructions.
'The reason why you were so startled just now was that I, Harry Potter, dropped my trunk while I was climbing the stairs. You were standing at the bottom, and fainted in a combination of fear and alcohol. Dudley, being the considerate and sensitive boy he is, fainted because he thought I had killed his favourite aunt.'
Harry broke his stare at the fainted woman and moved it to aunt Petunia.
'Now if you would excuse me, I have a bone to pick with a certain house-elf that I suspect has stowed away with my luggage.'
Harry's instincts were proven correct, as when he entered the small bedroom that had been his for the past five summers, he was greeted by two merry house-elves.
'Master is fixed!' squeaked Winky happily and took the liberty of hugging Harry around the knees. After a moment she realised what she was doing. 'Oh, bad Winky, bad!' she reprimanded.
'Winky,' Harry interrupted in a gentle yet commanding tone, 'if you wish to remain in my service then refrain from doing yourself injury on purpose. If you do something inappropriate; report it to me, and I will decide on a punishment or reward as I see fit, do I make myself clear?'
Winky, clearly not expecting this, nodded slowly.
'The same applies to you, Dobby,' Harry added, looking at the significantly lessened heap of clothes that was Dobby.
'Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir!' chirped a nearly ecstatic voice through the clothing.
'Very well, the rules I expect you to follow are these; I am not going to give either of you clothing,' continued Harry, 'but I would like very much for you to wear some anyway, and please limit yourself to one set of clothes at a time, Dobby.
'Second, you must not be seen by Muggles, understood?' both house-elves nodded quickly. 'Lastly, do not use magic on anyone unless they are about to cause you, me or my guests any harm.
'Now, the only space I have to offer you as your quarters is my closet, will it suffice, or should I try and make something?'
'Oh, no,' thanked Winky, 'the closet is most generous, Winky and Dobby will be most happy there.' Dobby nodded his consent.
'Very well,' nodded Harry, 'I'll leave you to yours, I have a few errands to run, or rather, a full day of training to catch up on.'
After Harry had made himself comfortable, or as comfortable as he could get in that small room, the doorbell rang, and Tonks was at the door, on orders from the Order to find out what had happened. Harry gave her the less fantastic version of the events, stating that he felt a twinge in his scar and knew that the one in the most danger would be Hermione so he Apparated to her and managed to change into his panther form, not revealing that his Animagus form was nearly three times the size of a tiger in mass. Tonks had accepted his story at face value, and returned to headquarters.
His assignments were done and out of the way before dark came over number four.
Harry continued his training even with the Spartan amount of equipment he had available.
However, he was not satisfied with his book selection. So one week into the holiday, he made up his mind, and did what he normally only did at six every evening, and Apparated to Hermione's room, surprising the witch from her assignments.
'Harry! What are you doing here so early?' she demanded in a worried tone, 'Nothing's wrong, is it?'
Harry merely smiled in adoration and earned a playful jab in his arm for not answering her.
'No, nothing's wring,' he finally answered. 'I just have some errands to run in Diagon Alley, and thought you might have liked to join me.'
Hermione squealed in delight and raced out of the room. Harry could hear her pick up the telephone and call her parents' office to let them know she would be out with Harry. Then the woman raced back into her room, pecked Harry on the nose before grabbing some new clothes from her wardrobe and raced back out to the bathroom to change into them, muttering something about what she was wearing not being appropriate for a day out.
Harry merely shook his head and grinned. He'd never understand the workings of the female mind. He wasn't even sure he would have taken the opportunity to do so if it was offered to him, it was always good with a little mystery in life, as long as it isn't dangerous.
Hermione stepped back in, wearing a yellow summer dress that flared out as she did a little spin for him, waiting for his opinion.
'You look lovely,' grinned Harry.
'You'd say that if I wore a burlap sack,' muttered Hermione with a slight blush.
'Is there anything wrong with my girlfriend looking good in anything?' asked Harry and stepped over to her. 'Do you have your wand with you?' he asked, already knowing the answer. Hermione nodded and reached towards her neck, as though she had an itch there, before producing her wand, perfectly hidden between her shoulders, concealed by her bushy hair and dress. 'Good, but how fast will you be able to reach it in an emergency?'
'As quickly as you can snap your wand from your holster,' she replied proudly.
'Good,' replied Harry as he drew his girlfriend into a hug, 'but we could both do better.'
'I think drawing a wand so fast that it looks like it just appeared is fast enough,' countered Hermione.
'To draw a wand at that speed and have a spell fired at the same time would be better,' returned Harry. 'But we aren't going to discuss how to further our abilities all day, are we? Come on, tag along with me, the Apparation point in Diagon Alley.'
Using his Muggle raised imagination, Harry had long ago discovered that he could use a silencing charm to keep from making a sound when Apparating, and taught his students as much. This was how Harry and Hermione appeared in Diagon Alley without making a sound to signal their arrival.
No one were surprised, as they were too occupied with their own lives to take any notice of unimportant things like someone Apparating without a sound.
'Gringotts first,' stated Harry at Hermione's inquiring look. 'I need to make arrangements to make my money more accessible in the Muggle world.'
Hermione asked no questions and merely nodded before following him down the cobbled road.
The pair walked through the relatively small crowd of wizards and witches, so small in number because of the still not posted supply lists for students, heading directly for the large white marble building. Hermione looked slightly giddy at spending her day with Harry in such a public place as Diagon Alley, but he wasn't complaining, he was positively giddy as well. The reason for his giddiness was that he had been unable to spend more than a few minutes with Hermione before her parents sent her to do something for them, as though they did not trust the two of them to behave responsibly. They probably didn't, after all, they had once been teenagers themselves, and knew how difficult controlling ones hormones would be.
'Oh, look, they've made a new broom,' Harry heard a little boy exclaim to another in awe.
'It looks beautiful … the "Lightningbolt" it's supposed to be the fastest there is, according to the owner of the shop. Look, it even has a little engraved lightning bolt on the handle!'
Harry cast a glance at it before doing a double-take and pressing his face against the window.
Inside was a large cut-out cardboard figure of him at age fourteen, holding a broom and grinning out at the world, occasionally even winking. The engraved lightning bolt on the handle of the broom was a clear replica of his scar.
This made Harry angry. He had not been asked for permission to have his image used to sell brooms. If he had been asked, he would have said yes at once so that he at least made some contribution to the world of Quidditch, but now, he was not so kind. However, instead of making a scene in the middle of a crowded street, Harry glared one last time at the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop before continuing his trek to Gringotts, he now had an extra errand to arrange there.
Once inside, Harry spotted a familiar face and made directly for it.
'Griphook, I need some assistance,' he stated urgently yet commanding. The goblin looked surprised that Harry knew his name, and after a moment his eyes flitted towards Harry's scar, clearly exposed.
'Ah, Mr Potter,' he stated in recognition, 'I am honoured that you remember my name. What may I be of assistance in?'
'Is there somewhere we can talk without being overheard?' asked Harry carefully. Hermione simply waited patiently.
'Of course,' stated the pleased goblin as it grinned and showed teeth that looked like nails, 'if you would follow me, we have a few customers waiting for you already.'
'Really?' asked Harry, surprised that someone could anticipate his randomly chosen day and arrive at his first destination before him.
'They have been waiting in the same room for well over a week, Mr Potter,' explained Griphook. 'And I can assure you that their intentions are not hostile. We value our customers too much to allow them to be injured inside our own bank.'
'Well then, we'd best not keep them waiting any longer, Hermione …'
Griphook blinked in surprise that Hermione was with Harry, but got over it and led them through a set of doors behind the counters. On the other side of the door ran a long corridor that was dotted with doors, all sporting gold plaques with either names or indication of the purpose of the room behind it.
Griphook stopped before a door marked; "Conference Room # 032".
'I will be waiting outside the door if anything else will be needed after the meeting.'
Harry nodded cautiously and entered the room, closely followed by Hermione. The room was very dark, and only above a table was there any light.
Inside was a collection of figures that halted their idle chatter as soon as the door opened.
'Mr Potter,' hissed one figure, female, and stepped out of the shadow she had been hiding in. 'Please, enter, we have important issues to discuss.'
Harry did as asked, but his hands were ready to go for his wand, and his body was ready to dodge or attack at a mere fraction of a second of notice. Hermione stayed close to him, also prepared for battle.
'There is no need for weariness, even if it is appreciated that you do not trust everyone,' growled a man that stepped up beside the woman, although specific features were not clear on either of them. 'Please, have a seat, we have all been waiting for you.'
Harry took Hermione's hand and led her to the loveseat around the table. More figures started closing in on the table.
'My name is Nanya, I represent the Vampire Community,' stated the woman. Her hair was as red as blood, as were her eyes and fingernails, her smile displayed wicked fangs. Her complexion was so pale that she nearly glowed in the light. Her white dress hardly covered anything but the important parts, and what enticing parts they were. Harry enforced his Occlumency barriers to keep his hormones intact along with his manhood if Hermione ever found out.
'I am Fenris,' said the man, 'and I represent the Werebeast Community.' There was definitely something bestial about this man, who smiled to show his larger canines. Unlike Lupin, this man was not shabby, neither in clothing or appearance, but several parts of his clothes had added "Tear-off" lines, to allow for either quick removal, or anticipating something to burst out.
Another woman took a seat around the table, and leaned back elegantly. 'I am known as Tenae, and I represent the Elven Society.' Only when she had said this did Harry notice that the top of her ears came to points, sticking only just out of her sleek black hair. Green robes covered the tight green top and pants. Daggers, a bow and a quiver of arrows rested on her seat.
A third woman stepped out of the shadows, platinum blonde hair and a fatal beauty. 'I am the representative for the Veela Community, and go by the name of Belle.' Harry could feel the veela charms banging on his Occlumency shields but would not give in, which Hermione obviously feared if her tightening grip was anything to go by. The woman wore blue robes that really flattered her.
'I am the Lord of Azkaban,' breathed a man that remained cloaked in shadows, 'and I speak for the dementors.'
Harry didn't feel at ease with this man, but kept it to himself for now.
'I represent the Freelance Branch of the Unspeakables, and go by the name of Jenkins,' snapped a very powerful looking man in a military tone. His face was riddled with visible scars, though none as bad as Moody's. Harry could see at least three wand holsters spread on him. He wore a black cloak and robes of dragon hide, the small scales glistening in the light.
A form wheeled itself out of the shadows, revealing itself to be a tank filled with water, like an aquarium, and inside was a mermaid, grey in skin tone, and webbed fingers pressed against the glass. 'I am the representative of the Merpeople, and have yet to earn a name,' she sang in a tone that managed to come through the water and glass strongly enough to be heard. Her breasts were covered by her greenish hair, which floated in a strategic manner.
Yet another woman stepped out of the shadows, her person riddled with weapons of any kind. What did not go with this dangerous look, was the bright pink hair that reached to her knees, knotted into a whip-like braid, framing her Asian face. She also wore black, but tight and woollen articles instead, but Harry was sure there was more woven into the fabric then wool, 'I am Pinku, and I represent the Magical Assassination Industry.' She finished by winking at Harry and blew him a kiss. Hermione's grip tightened slightly again, but Harry patted her hand comfortingly.
A green light lit up in the dark, and it flew to the centre of the table where it landed on an extinguished candle and went out, revealing a tiny woman with green skin and darker hair, as well as a pair of dragonfly wings on her back. 'Nymph, princess of the Fairies.' She squeaked in a very tiny voice. She wasn' lacking in confidence, but given her size, it was a tiny voice. She wore nothing, but she was really too tiny for any details to be noticed unless one leaved close enough for her to climb onto ones nose.
'Hello,' greeted Harry, 'this is Hermione, my girlfriend and confidant.' Hermione waved quickly. 'Is there a purpose for this meeting, or did you just feel like meeting me?'
A series of snorts rung around the room.
'We came to discuss the war,' stated Nanya.
'What about it?' asked Harry.
'At some time during the last year, most of us were contacted by representatives of the Dark Lord,' blurted Nymph, a slight glow signifying that the fairies were not among the contacted.
'And we now came to contact the side of light to hear their proposals so we can make up our minds,' supplied the Lord of Azkaban.
'Naturally, the one who brought the Dark Lord to his end the last time is the best candidate for us to approach,' continued Nanya, 'and we all came here separately, but all with the same idea, that at some time you would arrive for withdrawals. So, what offers can you tempt us with to gain our communities as allies?'
This subject seemed to interest the rest of them, and they all leaned forward slightly from their seats.
Harry was surprised, to say the least, and sat in silence for a while, as he tried to figure out what he could offer them in exchange for their services.
'I'm sorry,' he finally sighed. 'There is nothing I can offer for your alliances. Although I could have offered gold, I don't like the idea of bribery … that is something Voldemort's supporters deal in, and I want nothing to do with them. But I would have appreciated it if you at least stayed neutral in the war, so neither side had your help, at least that would be more fair and none of you would lose any of your people … although how fair it is with the giants siding with him …'
There was a moment of silence before the delegates started smiling.
'That is what we wished to hear,' declared Fenris.
Harry looked between the smiling faces and Hermione, who was equally confused.
'You do not wish to buy our support,' explained Pinku. 'You do not wish us to sacrifice our people in your wizarding war even to even your odds.'
'For that reason, we will do as you suggest and stay out of the war,' growled Jenkins. 'However, be warned that if either side attack us, we will join the other side.'
'We will return to our leaders and relay your message,' said Bell in a voice that sounded like crystal bells.
'And as a Show of Faith,' added Pinku, 'we have agreed to share a little knowledge with you,' the so far silent Tenae brought out a thick book. 'This book was made as we all awaited your arrival, and contains small bits of information that will not hurt our people if found out by outsiders. Some of our specialised magic and equipment are described there.'
'Now, if you'd excuse us,' Nanya put in, 'we have to pack up our things … it was nice speaking with you, Green-eyes.'
Harry and Hermione stood at the polite dismissal, and headed for the doors.
'Mr Potter, a moment, please,' breathed Azkaban.
The pair stopped just before the door and waited for the man to glide close enough for conversation.
'My subjects will not bother you any more,' the Lord breathed, 'those are my orders, and those whom disobey them cease to exist. Your shields will keep out their effects, but they may still steal your soul, which is why I have forbidden them to do so. Lead a good and productive life, and fear not for my subjects.'
The shadowy figure glided back into the room, leaving the two teens to exit the room.
On the outside of the door, Griphook was waiting patiently and humming some rough tune that no doubt was some goblin ditty.
'Ah, you've finished,' he started as he saw them. 'Our director Mr Spearhead is waiting for you in his office to conduct whatever business you wanted to get done. Follow me, please.'
Hermione, still a little on edge about the whole meeting that had just taken place, clung to Harry to keep him from getting away from her. They both followed the short creature down the same hallway, but instead of stopping at the many doors, they went on to the edge, where the hallway widened out to a small atrium with only one door. Griphook opened the door for them and ushered them inside.
'Mr Potter,' greeted a very old looking goblin with eyes that nearly reminded Harry of Dumbledore, had it not been for the small glint of greed that no goblin seemed to be without. 'How kind of you to join us, and what may I help you with?'
Harry helped Hermione into the seat in front of the desk and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
'A few things, actually,' stated Harry. 'Firstly, some companies has been using my image, mark and name to sell their products without my consent. I want that to stop, could you act as my solicitors in the matter and either end it or get all mentioned parts copyrighted? But keep away from the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, they have my approval.'
'I think we can arrange something,' grinned the old goblin, showing a row of yellow teeth that looked like nails. 'There will be a fee of ten per cent of every case we win, of course, as your case is a very solid one. The next item is …?'
'As you may know, I live in a Muggle community,' Harry began and waited for the goblin to nod. 'As such I may need Muggle currency without having the time to stop by and exchange my gold into proper currency. I hoped that you may have a solution to my problem …'
'That we do,' answered the old goblin, still grinning, although not as malicious as before. 'Many Muggle born clients have made that very same statement, and we have gone to very great lengths to do something about it … however, it will not be cheap. You will be able to afford it easily, no problem there, but we have to warn you anyway.' The goblin rooted through a drawer in his desk and out came a white card in a metallic plastic colour. 'This is our solution. It looks and acts exactly like a Muggle credit card with a few exceptions for safety.
'Firstly, it costs one thousand galleons to have, something not many wizards wish to afford themselves to spend, even if it is a onetime fee. You need only place your key to the card for it to have your personal information and vault number. One of our employees has been assigned to monitor strange credit cards through a Muggle network, and correct them from Muggle eyes while making the proper withdrawals.
'Secondly, security, only the owner of the key will be able to use the card and it doesn't matter what code he or she punches, it will only work when presented by the owner. If someone other than the owner tries to use the card, it will fail, and the card will be cut by the employees of the shop or restaurant it is used, thereby also costing the owner another thousand to get another card.
'Thirdly, unlike the Muggle cards, these cards do not have a limit beyond the capacity of the vault or vaults it is keyed into.
'And finally, this card can be used in wizarding shops and restaurants as well, you need only to hand the card to the employee that will handle the register,' Spearhead grinned in what appeared to look like a pleasant smile. 'Would you like one?' he asked Harry.
Harry thought about it for merely a moment before agreeing.
'Harry,' Hermione hissed, 'that is over five thousand pounds! Are you insane? You can't afford that!'
Harry smiled kindly at her and patted her head. 'We need to visit my vault soon,' he whispered.
'Very well, Mr Potter, will there be anything else?' asked Spearhead.
'No, that will be all,' Harry thanked and accepted the card, pressing his key into it as told. Immediately the front of the card took on a bold writing that stated it to be a Mastercard from Visa, and the back took on his picture, age and so on.
'Here is your receipt, and we will be in touch with you on the lawsuit issues,' finished Spearhead. 'Have a very pleasant day!'
Hermione was not a happy person, something Harry could feel, and even hear as soon as they left the office, because she gave him an earful that lasted until Harry and Griphook took her to Harry's vault. The sight of nearly an entire mountain of gold caused Hermione to shut up and gape in awe instead.
'If you think this is much,' commented Griphook, 'you should see the other vaults, they contain even more than this trust fund vault.'
Harry froze and stared into space.
'More vaults?' asked Hermione in awe. 'Harry, why didn't you ever tell me you had this much money?'
Harry turned slowly to his girlfriend. 'I only knew about this one,' he answered.
Hermione returned her gaze to the vault for a moment, looking as though she was making a decision.
'Come on, let's go get some ice cream,' Harry finally stated, having processed the information.
Hermione was picking at her chocolate coated vanilla ice cream, and Harry saw a pensive look on her face.
'Knut for your thoughts?' asked Harry playfully.
'How do you know I will love you for you and not your money?' she blurted out, looked as though she regretted it nearly as soon as it was out in the open.
'I know,' Harry replied knowingly. 'You loved me before I showed you my vault, and you loved me even when I set other people's lives at stake. I know you are not the kind of person to go about like that. You are a moral person, and the very fact that you are asking yourself those questions shows that you have qualms about being a "gold-digger" something you are not. And deep down, you know this too, but you are too insecure to face the fact that I don't care about anything but you. I'd donate all my money away if it would make you happy, I already decided on sacrificing everything in the world to keep you in my life. I love you no matter what.
'I'd even marry you this instant if you wanted, but I know you don't, because you need time to prepare, and because you know as well as I do, that our chances of a lasting marriage would be much higher if we waited until we were closer or past the age of twenty-five,' Harry was by now holding Hermione's free hand tightly. 'Does that answer your question?'
Hermione started crying and before Harry knew it, she had wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and was crying into his shirt. Several of the female patrons of Florean Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour were also blubbering or dabbing away tears from the overheard conversation, and smiling encouragingly at Harry. It only took Harry a moment to realise that this time tomorrow, this story would be in every wizarding tabloid, magazine and paper, and he really didn't care. This was his life to live, and he didn't want to ruin the tender moment by starting to yell at and threaten everyone not to tell anyone what they heard.
Instead, he focussed on rubbing his girlfriend's back, and on not becoming too aroused, or it might start something he couldn't finish.
He suddenly noticed something about the book he had been given. The bottom part of the spine was loose. With his free hand, he pulled on it, and a hidden drawer was shown, though he didn't explore the contents, as it might not be suitable for public view.
Hermione finished her crying after a while, and dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel she got from her handbag.
'I'm sorry for blubbering so,' Hermione sniffed and returned her attention to the mush that used to be ice cream. 'Oh, I ruined my ice cream …'
'Hermione, what are you?' asked Harry suggestively.
'A witch,' Hermione groaned. 'A freezing charm should return the ice cream to frozen state again, that was your point, right?'
'Exactly,' Harry agreed, 'And when you finish all of your ice cream, like the good little girl you are, we will stop by the bookshop.'
Hermione rolled her eyes at being talked to like a small girl, but there was a small twinkle of excitement in her eyes as she tucked in.
It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Hermione to finish the bowl of ice cream.
Harry made good on his promise and took Hermione to Flourish and Blotts. Once inside, Hermione let go of Harry and ran around to categorically go through the books she would like so she could find it when she had the money. In her excitement, she had forgotten that she had been worried about Harry suspecting her to be a gold-digger, and this just proved that she was not one, as a gold-digger would be pleading Harry to buy things for her.
It was a good thing for Harry that he had written a list of books before he came, or he'd have spent time looking through the thousands of books that existed in this shop. Harry flagged down a man that was placing away books, and handed him the list, stating that money was no object.
While the man started getting excited and ran around the shop trying to find the books on Harry's list, Hermione had narrowed her choices down from twenty to two books, which she wrote the names of so she would remember.
The shopkeeper finished finding Harry's books, and apologised that they were out of some of them, but for a fee of three galleons extra, they could be shipped to him when they arrived.
When Hermione wasn't looking, Harry acquired one of the books on Hermione's list. He would either save it for a special occasion, or just give it to her as a kind gesture. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way. Then again, she knew him very well … well enough to know he was not trying to lord over her or gloat at him having money. She was also likely to refuse the gift on the grounds of not having earned it.
Gathering his resolve, Harry packed his own books, and slipped the remaining book into Hermione's hands, pressing it to her and keeping her hands shut around the spine.
'I thought you might like this,' he whispered.
Hermione looked at what he had pressed into her grasp, and looked up to protest.
'You will keep it, Hermione,' Harry cut her off, 'I will not accept it back, and I felt like giving you something for putting up with me through my … condition.'
'I didn't do that for presents, Harry,' Hermione said, and looked slightly hurt that he would think that about her.
'I know you didn't,' Harry agreed. 'But I felt like getting you something. Maybe next time it'll be something more romantic.'
Harry eventually took a look in the book he had been given at the meeting with the group he had named the Council, and discovered many new things, things that he could really use.
The Magical Assassination Industry had presented him with sketches of weapons and equipment, and how he could make them in their simpler forms. Most weapons were based on Muggle weaponry, from clubs to rifles, all magically enhanced or changed.
The Vampires included a few wandless acts of magic they were able to use, and with any luck, Harry would be able to do them too.
The Veela enclosed a few masking spells and their little fireball trick.
The Werebeasts wrote about their tribal magic, their combat, and their partial and selective transformation, and a listing of the various types of werebeasts that had been registered with them.
The Merpeople had left behind a special spell that would enable Harry to learn the languages he heard or read, or even remembered words and sounds from. It wouldn't work instantly, nor would it take forever.
The Elves left him some healing spells and potions that were easy to make with Muggle supplies.
The Freelance Unspeakable Branch left him with a few shielding charms and some curses, as well as instructions on how he could get in direct contact with the Head of Law Enforcement Department, should there be any trouble he needed to alert them of.
Lord Azkaban wrote down some instructions on summoning beasts like dementors, but in varying form according to the heart of the summoner. A few wards to secure against dementors were also included.
The Fairies wrote down, in writing so tiny that Harry had to enlarge the writing by thirty times to be able to read it, what their task in nature was, how they did it, and how to create Fairies for his services.
Harry opened the drawer from the spine of the book and found several interesting things, and a note.
Dear Mr Potter
We all brought small tokens from our people, tokens that will show our friendship, not alliance. You, Mr Potter, are considered friend to all of our people because of what we have heard. You are a great wizard, possibly not as strong as you can be, even if your kind thinks you to be mad or dark, to make friends with creatures rather than shunning them.
When we announced that we would send a delegation to you, every one of our kinds were enthusiastic and eager to contribute in your coming victory against the Dark Lord.
If you need help, do not hesitate to call for us.
Friendly regards;
Lord Azkaban, Fenris, Jenkins, Bell, Pinku, Nanya, Nymph and the Merpeople Emissary
From the Magical Assassination Industry was a few blocks of base metals, crystals and glass for weapons and equipment. A magical photograph of a very nude Pinku was included. The woman in the photo showed him exactly where she hid some of her equipment, and it was nearly enough to make Harry burst into fire from the heat of his blush.
From the Vampires Harry got a ritual knife that they used for some of their blood magic. Enclosed was another wizarding photograph, of Nanya, not all that unlike Pinku, but this image kept cutting shallow strips into her own skin and licked them sensually.
Ingredients for an attraction potion were left in from the Veela, and Belle looked very alluring as she posed provocatively for the camera.
From the Werebeasts, Harry was given a set of metal claws to pull onto his fingers like a gauntlet. Fenris wrote a quick note that apologised for the photographs. Harry thought for a moment he meant the three photographs he had so far seen, but when he found a box of photographs of various women in the buff, and shifting between human and hybrid form while posing daringly. There were hundreds of them, each as provocative and enticing as the last.
Harry was certain that Hermione would kill him if she ever got wind of this, and he felt tempted to throw all the photographs away, which would be the right thing to do … but his teenage hormones convinced him to keep them, and hide them from view, even his own.
Lord Azkaban had left behind a small staff with a decorative head shaped like a talisman of a pentacle, which was essential in the process of summoning creatures to this world. He apologised for the lack of photographs, but he had assumed that any images of nude dementors, be they female or male, would not act as an erotic stimulant.
The Merpeople left Harry with a necklace that would make him accepted by any underwater city in the world, as long as it was worn.
The Freelance Unspeakable Branch left two patches of tape that were to be placed behind the ear and under the jaw, allowing to receive and send conversations when one wished. This tape would not shine in light, and would not be distinguishable from skin unless it is felt physically. Only when the wearer is touching the tape behind the ear does it activate the nearest set.
The Fairies had left a bottle, to them it must have been a whole vat, of nectar, filled with everything the body needed, a very tasty drink, and the bottle was made to be inexhaustible.
Harry made sure to send thank you notes to the groups, stating his gratefulness at their tokens and friendships, wisely refraining from mentioning the photographs. Hedwig was just happy to have something to do this summer, as Harry didn't need to send as many letters with him going to Hermione every evening, and was always quick about delivering, making Harry suspect that the Council was close by, or had representatives stand guard over him.
Aunt Marge was still suspicious about Harry, and made it a point to give him snap inspections at random times.
Harry made use of the tokens the Council had given him, and managed to fashion a semi-automatic handgun out of the metals available to him. The clip had already been supplied, with bullets that never ran out but needed a ten second pause every twelve shots. To be allowed to carry this gun, Harry joined a Marksman Club, which automatically gave him the necessary licenses needed in this restricted country to own weapon and use it on a police or military shooting range, upon passing a safety and maintenance test. Of course, the Magical Assassination Industry had helped him get the license.
There was one thing Harry did alter on the handgun. He made his own clip, which he filled with slates of metal with runes of magical power carved into them, and with a bullet like crystal fitted in on the top. This was to direct the magical energies that would be stored. The crystal had the formulae for the reductor curse etched into it, meaning that every time the trigger was successfully pulled, a reductor curse would be shot. Twelve shots in one clip, one hour to reload the energies. He sent this design to the Magical Assassination Industry under the conditions that they only use them in the chase for Dark Wizarding Criminals.
Gringotts sent Harry a letter not more than a week after he visited them.
Dear Mr Potter
As per your request, your name and mark has been copyrighted, and those shops – apart from the mentioned exception – and industries that has made products, advertisements or anything else with those copyrighted materials have been contacted, warned and has agreed to a settlement of fifty per cent of their revenue – thus far – on aforementioned articles, and no further production without written permission.
From now on, you will receive a ten per cent royalty on made articles and future articles. A special vault has been set aside for this purpose, but your key will still have access to this vault.
Your business is greatly appreciated, and we hope that your relationship with our Diagon Alley Branch will be a prosperous one.
Kind Regards;
Director; Spearhead
Harry was satisfied with this news, and took note of the amount of money that had appeared in his new vault.
Among the pages that the Lord of Azkaban had contributed, was a listing of shadow creatures that could be summoned, and one struck Harry's interest.
The Shadow Panther;
This fierce beast is a cousin to the Nundu, although a bit away on the evolutionary chain.
Many believe this creature to be even more dangerous than the Nundu, which is considered the most dangerous known beast in existence as it requires over one hundred fully trained wizards to subdue and can kill entire villages with its breath.
The reason for this belief; is that this creature can command shadows to do its bidding, and move through shadows like doorways, travelling immeasurable distances instantly with minimal energy.
Being related, however distantly, to the Nundu, the Shadow Panther is very big, standing six feet high at the shoulders.
The reason for his interest in this creature; was of course that he had turned into one as his Animagus form. After some correspondence with the Lord of Azkaban, Harry found that for him to have that form, he must have been in contact with one at some time in his life before his transformation took place, and have it offer him its blessing, something very difficult to accomplish with summoned shadow beasts as they had a mind of their own and tended to kill their summoners for disrupting their lives.
But these things aside, Harry kept up his training. Even Dudley thought thrice about starting to taunt Harry when he witnessed Harry do bench presses with the front end of their new company car. Harry had no idea of how he managed to get so strong so fast and without it affecting his mobility at all, but wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The only thing that bothered him as he approached his birthday, was the slight burning sensation in his chest.
Three hours and five minutes left until Harry turned seventeen. He could hardly wait, as Hermione had promised an entire day with him, and no chaperone. If only that burning in his chest would lessen.
Three hours and four minutes. Harry gritted his teeth as the burning increased. Why was he getting sick? And on his birthday of all days …
Three hours and three minutes. Something snapped, he was certain of it. Something had snapped inside him and the burning had increased ten fold, making him clutch his chest in pain. He was too young to have an acute angina, wasn't he? He kept in top shape all year … maybe it was something he ate?
Three hours and two minutes. Several other snapping sensations made themselves known all over his body and the burning spread. What had he ever done to deserve this pain? It was nearly as bad as a Cruciatus curse.
Three hours and one minute. The pain was now so intense, he didn't care if he screamed, but his blood was pounding so loudly in his ears that he couldn't hear anything else.
Three hours. Harry's world exploded, and all he heard before his world went black, was an anxiously yelled; 'HARRY!'
Sounds.
Harry couldn't identify them yet, but they were there.
Comforting sounds.
There was a comforting presence at his side, he could feel it.
A delicate hand ran across his forehead, brushing away his bangs, and coming to rest on his cheek.
Another hand, the twin of the first one, was holding on to his own.
His head was resting on something comfortable, soft yet firm, warm and radiating concern for him.
'Oh, Harry,' a sweet voice whispered. 'Please wake up soon.'
Wake up? When did he go to sleep? How long had he been asleep for this lovely and caring person to worry so?
'I don't know how much longer I can stand watching you so … lifeless …' sighed the sweet voice.
Harry wanted to comfort the owner of the voice, make sure she'd never suffer any harm.
'Harry?' the voice was slightly hopeful.
Harry stirred, he could move!
'Harry!'
A pair of strong and gentle arms wrapped themselves around his chest, and the owner of the voice sobbed into his shoulder.
Weakly, Harry managed to inch his arms around the form he well recognised as Hermione. The sobs of the young woman increased as he let his arms rest on her, but not letting go of them enough for them to fall away.
'Hr … mne,' he managed to croak. 'Wtr, pls.'
'Don't try to speak,' Hermione cautioned and got halfway up. 'You are not strong enough yet.'
'Watr,' Harry croaked despite his love's orders.
'Oh! Of course!' she fretted and broke his grip on her, leaving his side if only for a few moments. The running of water was heard after a muttered spell. She was then back in Harry's line of vision with a glass of water, conveniently capped and equipped with a flexible straw. 'Here you go, take small sips or it'll go down the wrong way.'
Harry was grateful for the liquid and drank as greedily as his throat permitted. There were a few close calls, but nothing went down the wrong way, and Harry dropped back onto his bed. Hermione sat at the side of his bed, and looked upon him with concern and admiration. 'Wh-'
'Don't speak, Harry,' Hermione warned and held one of her delicate hands over his mouth. 'Whatever happened to you took a lot of energy, save it for later. Now, while you heal, I will stay with you, no matter what your family may think on the matter.'
This was the commanding bushy haired girl Harry fell in love with, not taking no for an answer and bullying others into doing what they were supposed to be doing anyway.
'I'll just be gone for one minute to gather my things and inform my parents,' she hurriedly stated and got up. 'In the meantime, do not move or I will be very angry with you when I find out.'
Without another word, she vanished without a sound.
Harry lay there, thinking of what had happened. His body felt as if he had been running and lifting things for days on end, but there was something different that he couldn't quite put his finger on at the moment. It was tickling the back of his mind, and his skin felt partially numb. He decided to save up energy faster, and started clearing his mind of unnecessary thoughts that cluttered it if he did not organise it every day. He had experienced that he was much faster rested if he meditated like this, something he learned while studying late and had to meditate instead of sleep. It hadn't happened too often, but he could get eight hours of sleep in two hours of meditation. Very useful for studying for tests and resting after a hard training bout.
'Good evening, Harry.'
The pleasant voice of his headmaster brought Harry from his trance to look at the old man, alert and ready.
'You gave the ministry quite a workload yesterday,' the old man chuckled as he sat on Harry's chair. 'Such a blow-out of power has not been recorded in ages, and never in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood. Cornelius had to be persuaded from not placing you in Azkaban for use of magic in front of Muggles, even if none were present at the time of the release. Although the effects can be seen for several kilometres … everything seems to have flourished over night and things that had been broken or sick got better … one could nearly call it a miracle …'
The aged headmaster looked down at his pupil.
'The family curse struck, am I correct?' Harry simply stared confusedly at him. 'That is right, you wouldn't know …' Harry glared at the old man, had he not remembered how he reacted to information that was withheld from him. 'Calm yourself, Harry, I had not withheld this from you on purpose … it was just assumed that you had read of it somewhere. It all started with the first of your line named Potter, about the same time Hogwarts was founded. Young Lazarus managed to anger a Mage, who in turn cursed his line … what the curse was, only the Potters know … and one other. Which brings me to the second news …
'I do not know how to tell this news … as it is quite thrilling even if it is devastating,' Harry could see the man was stalling for time and wouldn't have any of it, glaring angrily at him to bring the message across. 'Very well,' Dumbledore sighed. 'Yesterday afternoon, one of the captured Death Eaters in the Ministry holding cells tried to re-enact the Count of Montechristo by tunnelling his way out before his trial and managed to get through the floor … before dropping eight feet onto a foot of dust.
'He had discovered a chamber that had been forgotten by even the best historian of the Ministry, and it was filled with stone statues of humans in varying poses. And at the end of the room was a portal with a white veil covering it, I believe you remember its corresponding gateway in the Department of Mysteries?'
Harry nodded slowly, not sure if he liked where this was going.
'The gateway with the black veil covering it was used as a punishment in old times. The prisoners would be thrown inside, and land in the realm of death. On the other side, the prisoners would be judged by the pureness of their souls, and whether they were guilty of their crime. If they were guilty or had as black a soul as they come, the prisoners would be kept. If they were innocent, the prisoners would be thrown out of the white veil, petrified.'
Harry's intestines dropped heavily as he saw where this was going.
'Sirius was among those recovered in the chamber,' Dumbledore confirmed. 'He has been revived with a Mandrake Draught, and has been officially recognised as alive. He got his new wand from Ollivanders not an hour after he woke. And he is the one who knows more about the Potter family curse than anyone else, having lived with them for a while. He is very eager to see you again.'
'No,' Harry croaked.
'I know it is difficult to accept that he is back …'
'No,' Harry repeated and lay back down, and like a child, pulled his blankets over his head to block out the world.
'Harry, I'm ba – professor?' Harry could hear Hermione's voice go from reassuring to surprised. There was a slight pause. 'What have you done, professor?' the tone sounded chilly enough for Harry to curl into a ball under his blankets. 'It's all right, Harry,' he heard her whisper and felt his bed depress as she sat on it, and started rubbing what she correctly knew to be his back, 'the professor is just leaving … aren't you?'
Harry was certain that his window would frost at the cool tone Hermione was using on the headmaster, and shivered under her touch.
'Yes, well, Harry and I had just finished our talk anyway,' stated Dumbledore, mirth was evident in his tone, as though Hermione's frosty voice wasn't bothering him the least. 'Have a nice holiday, and we will see each other before September first.'
A soft pop announced the Disapparation of their headmaster.
'You can come out now,' coaxed Hermione softly.
Harry slowly drew the blankets away to verify that Dumbledore indeed was gone before quickly wrapping his arms around Hermione. He didn't cry, he didn't know if he had any more tears left to cry, but the presence was comforting in this moment of distress, even if she didn't know what had caused this state.
'Do you feel like telling me what happened?'
Harry waited for a moment, soaking up as much comfort as he could before telling her in a raspy voice about the news that Dumbledore had brought.
'Oh, Harry,' breathed Hermione and grabbed him in a fiercer hug than he had given her. 'I don't know whether to be happy or sad at this news,' she confessed. 'And it's ironic that he appeared after you became a legal adult according to our laws … we need to find out more about your family curse, though … and Dumbledore said Sirius was the best source of that information?'
'Yes,' nodded Harry and breathed in her scent. 'Sirius lived with my dad and his parents around the time he turned seventeen, which is the time the curse is triggered … if I understood Dumbledore's hints.'
'But you nearly exploded, Harry! And it was three hours left until midnight!'
Harry pondered for a moment, 'Could the Time-turner have something to do with it?'
Hermione banged the heel of her hand against her forehead and berated herself for not remembering that they had travelled three hours back in time to save Sirius. 'But wouldn't that mean that I'm nearly eighteen?' she pondered aloud.
'Probably more,' Harry put in seriously before grinning wickedly, 'as long as we are clear on who was born first here. And that would be me.'
He earned a playful bop on the head for this comment. 'Behave and lie down, I didn't say you were well enough to be playing so much.'
The door to Harry's room shook dangerously.
'Boy!' uncle Vernon's voice boomed, penetrating the door. 'Is there anyone in there with you?'
'Just my girlfriend,' Harry answered calmly and hurried with placing his fingers in his ears. Hermione quickly followed his movement.
'WHAT!' uncle Vernon's voice seemed to have tripled in volume, and Harry could nearly see the shade of red on the fat man's face through the door. The man went on sputtering and yelling at them through the door while hammering on it to get it open, but was unsuccessful in his effort. Aunt Marge soon joined him in his yelling as she deducted from the noise what had been going on. Aunt Petunia's shrill voice yelled at the other two for making a scene that the whole street would be able to hear. Dudley whinged about having run out of pocket money; adding to the din. It took all of one minute before Hermione thought to put up a silencing charm to block out the noise.
'That was cruel, Harry,' she chastised him.
'I felt like stirring the waters a little,' stated Harry. 'This is one of the few times I have exorcised that side of me, and with magic to back me up, I don't think this summer is going to be so bad, or what's left of it.'
'At least you'll have me here from now on,' she added.
Harry smiled at the thought and nodded slowly. Neither heard the Dursleys calm down to muttering dark and hollow threats at the locked and closed door.