A/N
This is the second chapter today. If you have not read chapter 28, please go back.
Chapter 29
Harry
We all assemble in the attic, looking nothing like it did the last time I was up here. Magic never ceases to amaze me. Well, magic and money in this case. Money played a big part in the current renovation. Hermione was grumbling under her breath about it when she signed the checks yesterday.
Something about me getting the (in my opinion) worthless title of Lord Potter-Black, and her getting all of the responsibilities that came with it. Like I could pry any of the paperwork involved out of her fingers if I tried. Mi is fully of the mind that if she wants something done right, she has to do it herself. I can't say I disagree with her assessment of the situation either.
There were magical construction workers here all day Sunday labouring under the guiding eyes of Moony, Mi, and Molly. Now the attic looks like a high-priced gym.
All of the students in the house, plus Padfoot, Tonks and Moony, are currently standing on the padded mats in various states of exercise clothes, waiting for instruction. Neville got here at seven this morning, Tonks at his side. He brought an overnight bag and a note from his grandmother, asking if he could stay a few days. Dobby already has him set up with Ron.
Nate is at the front of the throng, with the other adults lounging against the far wall behind him.
"I don't understand why the rest of us are here for this," Ron grouches with his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Not all of us can do magic whenever we please."
I try and fail, not to feel guilty that not only did I get the girl, but as a side effect, I can now do magic whenever I please.
"Sorry, Mate," I say sheepishly. Ron just scowls at me.
Nate looks over his shoulder at Remus, who comes to stand next to his friend. Remus places a hand on Nate's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He faces us with his wand in his hand.
"The band for the reasonable restriction of magic has been lifted for this house, and this house alone." Exclamations of excitement and surprise slip from Ron and Ginny's mouths, but Neville's lack of response tells me he already knew that fact. Which is probably why he's rooming with us now.
Remus continues talking.
"Before you get too excited, at the first sign of pranks or recklessness, we'll owl the minister and have the trace put back on the townhouse."
"You hear that icky Ronnikins?" George teases. "One prank and you'll be writing lines while the rest of us conquer the wizarding world," Fred takes over.
Nate rolls his eyes, and Sirius and Remus share knowing chuckles.
Nate takes a step closer, walking the line between the students and where the adults stand.
"Do you know why they called me instead of using one of your own to train you? Because Wizarding Britain is about a hundred years behind the current decade and in some ways more than a thousand. America hasn't had to deal with a terrorist like You-Know-Who in over a century. Even when Grindelwald was active, he went back to Britain as soon as he was discovered. Why? Because he knew that America would kick his ass. In America, we fight hard, we fight dirty, and we fight to win."
Sirius is smirking, and Tonks looks eager to get to the good stuff, bouncing up and down on her toes.
"I have one job and one job only. To keep you alive until the final battle. Preferably beyond that. If you do what I say, when I say it, and work harder for me than at anything you've ever done in your life, maybe you'll survive this war."
It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, as Nate's words resonate around the room.
I never really thought I'd survive past the final battle. But I look at the witch next to me and feel her burning like an electric fire in the back of my mind, and I know I have to survive. If for no other reason than for her.
I look down when I feel her fingers trail across the back of my hand.
I won't let you die again flitters through my thoughts.
Which of us is supposed to be protecting the other?
"First things first," Nate says, pointing at me. I pull my attention back to where it's supposed to be and off my wife at my side. "The sword, take it off."
I double-take at the demand and the no-nonsense tone he takes.
"That's the sword of Gryffindor, yes?" he asks.
"Yes," I agree and nod my head, pulling the blade from across my back. Everyone except Hermione takes a step back, Nate included.
"Do you know what an amplifier is?" Nate questions, and Hermione's eyes go wide as recognition floods into her bloodstream.
"Of course," she breathes. "I should have realized."
She pivots to face me directly, then walks a tight circle around my frozen form.
"Of course," she says again.
"Anyone wanna fill the rest of us in?" Fred asks.
"I second that motion," I pipe up.
Hermione's hand shoots into the air, and Nate gestures for her to answer.
"An amplifier is a device used to strengthen the power of a signal. In muggle music, they use amplifiers to make the sound louder. We do the same with magic. Our wands are nothing but an amplifier."
Nate pulls a wand out from the holster strapped across his chest. A holster that looks like a duplicate of mine. A buckled strap across his pecs and leather straps around his shoulders. Only he has two wands strapped to him, with a third on his hip.
It's made from a lighter coloured wood than I've seen used in Britain, and it's thinner than its cousins made by Ollivander as well.
"Each and every one of you can do magic without your wands. You have been since you were born. Magic is in everything. The air you breathe, the plants in the ground. Every life form that walks this earth carries some spark of magic. Including squibs and no-majs. Or Muggles, as you call them. Given a strong enough amplifier, even the most ordinary of no-maj could light up a room with a lumos."
"We should try that on your cousin, Harry," George quips, and I huff out a laugh.
Nate continues with his lecture with a smirk.
"All your wand does is help you focus your magic. Or amplify it. Wands are not the only items known to have that ability. There have been other objects through history known to act as an amplifier. That sword is one of them. Even across the pond, it's legends are known."
Nate jerks his chin to the side, and Sirius walks up to him, holding a scabbarded blade. A sword with a hilt that looks suspiciously like the one in my hand. He takes it in his grip.
"I'll teach you to wield that blade like a master, but until then, you can't wear it. It doesn't just amplify your power. Which it has, by the way. Even with it strapped across your back, you're stronger than you should be. You practically burst with it when the sword is in your hand."
Almost every person in the room snorts, or coughs or laughs and Fred makes an obscene comment about how some items are bigger than they appear.
I can feel Hermione blush without having to look at her.
"Is there something I'm missing?" Nate asks shrewdly with an arched brow.
"It's not the sword," Sirius says with a heavy layer of paternal pride. Nate pivots on his heel to face my Godfather.
"What?" he asks.
"Harry's power," Sirius says, tilting his chin at me. "It's not the sword. It's all him."
"The sword might be part of it," Remus says from next to Sirius, conceding Nate's point "But Harry is probably the strongest Wizard you've ever met. You saw that he's already using wandless and non-verbal magic, and he doesn't turn fifteen for another two weeks."
Nate pivots again to face me with his arms across his chest still gripping the duplicate sword, and I stand up as straight as I can under his penetrating glare.
"Huh," he says, then shakes his head. "Be that as it may, I don't want you to kill me by accident because you don't know what you're doing, and your dander gets up during a spar. I understand from Moony you keep the sword on you for a reason, but until I say so, keep it hidden. Wear the duplicate on your back. Let the legend of 'The Chosen One with the Sword of Gryffindor' spread to the deepest corners of the earth if that's what you want. But until you can manage the flow of power coursing through your body, I don't want to get nicked with a blade covered in basilisk venom."
He has a good point.
Hermione is getting a lot better at directing her thoughts at me, and me not just catching pieces of it by chance.
I look at her, and she gives a tiny shrug.
We'll keep the real sword in my bag. Or your pouch. Wear the fake for now.
Nate pulls the duplicate sword from its scabbard and does a few fancy moves with it before popping it around in his grip and handing it to me hilt first. I hand the real sword to Hermione, who takes it with both of her hands and tilts it tip first to the ground. I slide the fake sword into the scabbard across my back while Hermione scabbards the real weapon and walks to the side where her bag lies.
All eyes are upon her as the entire sword disappears into the depths of her purse.
"You're going to have to teach me that trick," Tonks laughs.
Hermione's cheeks are pink as she comes back to my side.
"Next item of business. Wands. Harry has two, strapped to his chest. How many of you have more than one wand?"
Only Hermione, Neville and I raise our hands. Neville does it with a shaking hand like he's not sure if it's the correct answer or not.
Nate looks to the adults, who all shake their heads no. Our newfound teacher rolls his eyes and scoffs in disgust.
"You all need a spare. Preferably two or three," he insists. "You Brit's have a funny relationship with your wands. You all seem to marry your first. One and done. Almost every American witch or wizard has a backup. American Aurors have two or three. It's not an exclusive relationship, people."
Nate laughs at a joke only he understands. "Think of your wand like a lover. You have your favorite, sure, but that doesn't mean you can't have others waiting in the wings if the need arises."
Almost every boy in the room beside me smirks. I can't handle the girl I've got. I don't need another. Hermione lets out an offended noise and gives me a dirty look. As if I had anything to do with it. Tonks mumbles something I don't catch, but sounds suspiciously like that's why you have two hands, and I don't want to think about if she's referring to wand work or using her hands for other endeavours.
Ginny lets out a noise in the back of her throat, and when I peek at her she's got a contemplative look on her face.
"The truth of the matter is most magical communities outside of Great Britain practice magic with more than one wand. Or at least their law enforcement does. You don't ride into battle with only one gun on your hip. By the time we meet tomorrow, I expect every one of you to have an additional wand." He looks at the three battle-hardened duelers behind him. "ALL of you," he says in a heavy voice, pointing at the adults.
Hermione raises her hand, and Nate tilts his chin in her direction.
"Speaking of guns," she starts in that prim and proper tone of hers, and every set of eyes in the room flick to her. "Has anyone tried to shoot Voldemort with one?"
Silence sits heavy in the air, and Hermione fidgets nervously.
"My father was in the military, and taught me how to shoot," she says defensively. "It's something I've been wondering about lately."
Nate clears his throat.
"It's a good question," he says, and her shoulders droop just a bit. "I doubt anyone has thought of attempting to shoot him. Fighting with a no-maj weapon isn't something that would occur to many Wizards. They'd think it beneath them, and that's going to be the same across the board I'm afraid, no matter what country you're standing in. That being said, have you ever heard the phrase `bringing a knife to a gunfight?'"
The muggle-borns in the room all nod, while the wizard-borns look at each other with confusion on their faces.
Nate gives a full-body nod as if the breakdown of understanding lied exactly where he expected it to be. He turns his attention back to Hermione, answering her original question.
"Bringing a gun to a magical duel would be about the same. I'm not saying it hasn't been done. I'm on an international task force which combines both magical and no-maj military personnel. I've been on the shooting range, and am licensed on a bevy of different no-maj weapons. I've seen my fair share of gunfire. But in a battle, you'll only get a handful of shots off before the witch or wizard you're fighting stops the weapon with a spell. If on the off chance your opponent doesn't stop your firing, you won't make it through the first clip before the weapon misfires and stops working simply from all the magic in the air."
It only takes one shot to kill him, she breathes, but I'm not sure I was supposed to hear it that time.
Hermione raises her hand again, and Ron and the Twins start to snigger until Mi shoots them a scathing look.
"You don't need to raise your hand," Nate laughs, and Hermione looks taken aback at the casual way he wants to run what she obviously sees as a classroom.
"Will Harry be able to use the sword for magic?" she asks. "I mean like casting spells with it?"
I startle at that, not having yet jumped to that conclusion despite what they'd said earlier about the sword amplifying my powers.
"Good question," he says. "And the answer is I have no idea." Hermione's shoulders fall.
He takes a deep breath and looks at me.
"Obviously, you can't do wand work with it. But the stronger a wizard becomes, and the more knowledgeable their skillset, the less they have to rely on their wands to perform spells. Your Godfathers were right. You aren't anywhere near the sword right now, yet you're strong enough to power a small building. What you need to do is learn how to harness the power coursing through you. If even half the stories about you are true…" He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. "I have no idea what you're capable of. I dare say we'll find out."
That's not ominous at all.
His eyes scan the rest of the room, measuring and weighing as he goes. He lifts his voice just a tad, so it carries over all our heads. "We have six weeks until you return to Hogwarts, and I plan on working you like dogs every day until then. Pair off and spread out. Let's get started."
The twins move off to the side together, and much to my surprise, Ron and Neville split off without any hesitation. Tonks joins Ginny and pulls her off to the other edge of the mats.
Hermione and I square off away from the middle of the room.
"Absolutely not," Nate says, shaking his head and coming to stand beside us. "You two can't work together."
"Excuse me?" I say, confusion and anger tickling at the back of my throat.
He turns his body so that it's facing outward towards the other sets of duelers.
"We work in teams," he says, lifting his voice again. "Just like you never leave the bed without your wand, you never enter a potentially dangerous situation without backup. From this moment on, every situation is potentially dangerous. You people are the known associates of Harry Potter, sworn enemy to He Who Must Not Be Named. In order to keep yourselves alive, assume that everyone outside of this room wants to kill you. You do not leave the house alone. You do not walk the hallways of Hogwarts alone. You don't even get up in the middle of the night to take a piss by yourself. Everything you do, you do in pairs."
I hope Mi is taking notes, cause I'm gonna use that line when we start the DA this year.
Sirius snorts in amusement, but Remus's expression makes him sober quickly. Lead sinks to the bottom of my stomach. Isn't it everything I'm afraid of? People will be dying because of me.
Nate faces Hermione and me again.
"I won't have couples teaming up. I get that she's your girlfriend or whatever, but I can't risk you breaking up in a few weeks and then you not being able to work together. Switch partners."
Another round of sniggers and murmured comments ripples through our gathered group, and Nate raises his brow in question.
"Tell him," Sirius says, with laughter on his face. "He can't break the charm, and if he does," Sirius shrugs. "We'll kill him."
Nate looks taken aback.
"Honestly," Hermione scoffs with irritation. She crosses her arms and stomps her foot and she's just so adorable. I can't keep my smile contained. "Stop encouraging him! He already threatened to kill Michael Corner," she huffs.
"That git has it coming," Fred says from across the room.
"Not to mention he promised Dumbledore he was going to kill Professor Snape," Ron jumps in.
"Seriously Harry?" Remus asks with exasperation.
"I'm missing something," Nate interjects, bringing the conversation back to order.
I give Hermione a questioning glance, and she nods in response.
"Hermione isn't my girlfriend," I tell Nate. Butterflies take flight in my stomach. "We're Bonded Mates. Married and bound in magic. I don't think you need to worry about us breaking up in a few weeks' time."
I didn't realize how much I love saying that until just this moment. Hermione is my wife.
Nate's eyes go wide, and his jaw goes slack. His arms drop listlessly to his sides as all his body weight shifts backwards.
"No shit?" He demands, with wonder in his voice. Hermione walks over to her bag again, and summons the orb from its confines.
"No shit," she says with a small smile, and hands him the wooden ball. Nate twists the orb in his hands, running his fingers over it reverently.
"That's—" he looks between Hermione and me, and I pull her into my side and wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Damn," he says quietly, staring at us like he's seeing things clearly for the first time.
I wonder if that's the same expression I wore the first time I kissed her?
He hands the orb back to Mi, who floats it into her purse without ever moving from her spot under my arm.
"Okay," he says, gaining his equilibrium and putting his teacher's voice back in place. "That makes a difference, you're right. I doubt either of you would work very well without the other at your back. Your concentration would be on your spouse rather than on your enemy.
"We have a soul-mated set of Aurors in New York. They are the biggest badasses you've ever met, but they work together exclusively. It's not that they can't work with other people. They do it when they have no other choice. But they work best as a pair. They were with me on a mission once and they got separated, and it was one of the scariest things I've ever seen. They sliced down everyone in their paths until they were side by side again."
Sounds about right.
He claps his hands, rocking back and forth on his heels.
"This is going to be fun," he says, and his exuberance pulls excitement from Mi and I both.
I clear my throat.
"So, if I told you that Mi and I actually got our second wands after our binding was sealed, and they happen to be a mated set with twin cores...?" I leave the sentence hanging.
His rocking comes to a halt.
"Bonded Mates with twin cores? Has that ever happened before?" He turns and looks at Remus, but it's Mi that answers him. His head whips back to her when she starts to talk.
"I couldn't find any record of it, no." I roll my eyes. Of course, she'd look. "But I plan on writing a paper on it."
Nate scratches his head with a far off look in his eye.
"I'll put out some feelers on my end too. I won't give out specifics."
"You can't," I cut him off. "Fidelius."
"Nice," he says with a smile. "Good thinking. I'll just tell people I'm researching a paper about bonded mates and wand cores. See if anyone knows anything on my side of the pond."
Mi is beaming at him.
"Thank you!" she says, and Nate drops her a wink.
He claps his hands again.
"Okay. Let's get started! First things first. You guys need muscle! Push-ups. Drop and give me fifty!"
Sirius gives a smug grin, until Nate walks the five feet over to where Padfoot is lounging with Remus. Nate swipes his leg between my Godfather's feet and knocks him to the ground, then flips him over and grips the back of his shirt.
Surprised shock amongst the watchers turns into snorted laughter.
"When I said drop, I meant all of you." Nate looks around the room. "Do it!"
The rest of us drop to the ground without another word.
Nate is the one looking smug when Sirius grumbles loudly under his breath, and then haltingly begins his push-ups.
We forgo the glamours when we head into Diagon Alley today. The entire Weasley crew is with us, for one. For another, Mi and Mrs. Weasley have finally bullied me into a haircut, and that would be fairly difficult if I wasn't wearing my own hair.
Actually, it was more the first training session with Nate that convinced me a trim was in order. I was drenched afterwards, and my hair was sticking to me all over. I was planning on just buying a pair of electric clippers and having Ron shave my head. But when Hermione pulled me aside and explained that she needed something to hold onto, if I caught her drift, I quickly changed my mind.
To the barber we went.
"Don't it ever lie flat?" the lady behind me complains as she runs some hair potion through the strands still on my head. She unties the smock from around my neck and I brush some of the fly away hairs from my chest.
"No," I tell her glumly.
"I like it!" Mi says, as I climb from the barber's chair. I run my hands over my hair, and the woman who cut it smacks my hand away.
I'd already gotten used to my hair skimming the top of my collar, and it feels weird that it's so short now. I went from hair I could almost put in a tail to hair that's all but shaved on the sides. The top is long though. Plenty left for Mi to dig her fingers into when my head is between her legs.
"Where to next?" I ask Hermione after she finishing paying.
"No idea," she says. She oulls her book from under her armpit as we make our way outside.
Sirius and Remus are leaning against the wall, and pull to attention when Mi and I leave the shop.
"The others are already at Ollivander's," Remus says. "We thought it best to stay out of the way."
"Good idea."
Not that I don't trust Mi's spell work, but I know from experience the more you tempt fate, the more likely someone is to remember you've obliviated them, if not the memories that you stole.
Hermione is walking with her nose in her book and her other hand linked in mine when she stumbles over something on the pavement.
"Watch it, Mr. Potter!"
My hands are on Mi's waist and shoulders, trying to right her on her feet when the voice of Lucius Malfoy slithers over my skin. My Godfathers immediately come to stand behind us, and I pull my shoulders back and palm my wand, my eyes flicking around the immediate area.
They're alone, or so it seems. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy, out for a stroll down the Alley.
All the blood has drained from Draco's face, and he's looking at me like he's seen a ghost. It's started then. Voldemort is in his home, and my first foray into divination is paying dividends. Or at least it freaked Malfoy out that I knew Riddle would be lounging on his couch all summer.
Otherwise, he'd be dripping scathing remarks. Instead, he's rather off his game.
"It's Lord Potter-Black now," Mi says through clenched teeth. She takes a deep breath. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."
Narcissa gives us an assessing look, but Lucius sneers at Hermione as if she spit on his shoe. He turns to his wife.
"The mudblood spoke to me," he says, ignoring Mi completely. I open my mouth to smart off at him, but Hermione digs her nails into my palm. I turn my attention to their son instead.
"Having a good summer, Malfoy?" I ask in a mocking tone.
"Bugger off, Potter," he hisses, but it lacks his usual flare. If I do say so myself.
"We have places to be," Remus says, and Lucius turns his gaze to the men behind me.
"Yes, best toddle along while you still can," he says, then with his cane in one hand he takes his wife's elbow with the other and makes a wide berth around us. I turn to watch them as they leave, and Draco looks over his shoulder, meeting my eye.
His eyes are almost grey, with storm clouds gathering behind them. He nods his chin, then scurries to catch up with his parents.
It's an expression I've never seen on his face before.
It could almost be construed as acknowledgement.
"We better go," Remus says again.
I shake myself from my thoughts and we start down the alley again.
The Weasley's are on their way out of Ollivander's shop as soon as we get to the door.
"Is there anyone still in the shop with him?" I ask Mrs. Weasley.
She gives me a curious glance, then cups my face in her hand and oats my cheek.
"No dear. Did you need anything? I thought you already had a spare wand. And don't you look like just rhe proper gentlemen now."
I smile at the matronly witch, on much better terms now that we've each said our peace.
Ron snorts beside her.
"We have gotten them, Mrs. Weasley. I just need one thing. We'll be right back."
I pull open the door, and let Hermione lead us in.
"Mr. Potter!" Ollivander exclaims. "What a pleasant surprise."
I turn to my wife and hear Remus sigh in resignation behind us.
"One more time, love, if you don't mind."
Hermione looks at me and smiles.
She pulls her wand from her pocket. The new one. Ollivander's eyes go wide.
"Wipe him?"
We don't need it getting out that the side of the light is arming themselves for battle.
"What? I don't—" he starts to stutter. We ignore him completely.
"Wipe him," I confirm.
For the second time in a week, Hermione takes the wandmaker's memories.
My wife is a badass.