Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Short version, if you recognize it from someplace else, it's not mine.


"I thought we taught him better than to be caught the first day. No villainous moves until he can case the joint," Harley lamented to her wife the next morning. The owl delivering the Hogwarts Letter requesting their presence at the school to 'discuss a delicate development concerning Harry Potter' had interrupted their morning moaning activities, putting both of them in a foul mood.

"We don't know what it's about," Pamela Isley reassured. "For all we know, this could be due to his fame in the wizarding world. Nothing to do with your grand plot for him to take over the magical world."

"I thought you were in on the plot?" Harley questioned. "Do you not want him to become the best evil overlord there ever was?"

"Babe, I support your dream 100%, and I know it'll be good for Harry, but this has always been your pet project, and I think you are doing an amazing job at it."

"Awww, thank you," Harley smiled. "You say the nicest things."

"You bet, and at least Dudley's school hasn't called. Now the letter says they can pick us up in London as soon as today, which means we only have a few hours to get ready to invade Hogwarts. Let's get ready to go."

"Y'all taking a field trip?" Frank the Plant hollered from through the living room window. "You promised me a field trip once the munchkins flew the nest. I have done my duty and slurped up those death eaters, babysat, and kept them alive, and now daddy wants a change of scenery."

"We're going to Harry's magical school, but it will probably only be for the day," Pamela explained. "It's up north in Scotland. It's going to be kinda cold, but we will take you if you really want to."

"One day is hardly a trip, but it will have to do," Frank complained. "We should go to the Caribbean afterwards. No need to hang around this suburban hellscape if both of the appetizers are off to school."

"We'll think about it," Pamela promised before grabbing her favorite black jacket from the closet. "You should probably put on your sweater, Frank. It's going to be cold."

"Should I wear my psychologist uniform?" Harley pondered, pulling out her white lab coat. "I always associate schools with this coat."

"You know what, I think you should," Pamela agreed. "In fact, I think we both should. It's been a while since I've worn mine. Lab coats all around. Let me just run upstairs to find it first."

"You have a lab coat for me too?" Frank asked from outside their bedroom.

"Ph.D's only," Harley smirked.


"Albus, we must change your targets," Minerva McGonagall pleaded the morning after the sorting ceremony. "With Tonk and Clearwater in, in the new House, your added attention will be too much. Please, leave them be."

"I understand your concern, Minerva," Dumbledore intoned sadly, though his eyes still gleamed mischievously. "I, too, share your concerns. It is for that reason that last night I consulted the journals of headmasters past. There is a rule, meant for a student death, but in this case the wording is such that we might exploit it. Yesterday you said 'One from each house'. Young Nymphadora and Penelope are in the same house, so one can be removed from the list as long as another from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are chosen. One from each house."

"So I must choose between Tonks and Clearwater, as well as pick their replacements in their house?"

"I'm afraid so. That is the only way. I can hold off another day or two before I have to begin, so you have a bit more time to choose."

"You are a bloody bampot, Albus. I want you to know that."

Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders in apology, an apology McGonagall didn't think he really meant, which made her even more furious. She made one last parting comment before storming out.

"Well, while I deal with that, you'll have plenty of time to greet the parents, including the guardians of Harry Potter."

As Dumbledore involuntarily winced, as he always did when Potter's guardians were mentioned, Minerva smiled gleefully at the old codger's discomfort and closed the headmaster's door. She wanted to be in the great hall for breakfast before the new house arrived.


Breakfast was surreal for the members of the newly minted Awesome House of Harem. Pointing, staring, whispering, falling silent whenever they came near enough to overhear. It wasn't unexpected, all things considering, but it increased the tension in the air. Harry likened it to right before a barroom brawl broke out. Daphne thought it was like the static buildup before an electrical discharge. Hermione felt like she was near the end of the line for a book signing by an author about to leave. For Susan, it appeared like the whole school was a souffle threatening to collapse.

Luckily for them, and the rest of the first year Harems, their prefects had concocted a harebrained scheme to pop the festering zit plaguing the face of the collective student body. The relief came just before the daily owls arrived.

"Please let us into your harem, oh wise and beautiful Penelope," the George and Fred Weasley cried in unison from in front of the Great Hall doors. They had walked in, locked eyes with the prefects for Awesome House of Harem, and dropped to their knees, bowing dramatically with their whole body and hamming it up to levels only the twins could achieve. Their brother, Percy, looked like he was about to have a stroke. "We are not worthy to clip your perfect toenails, but we beg you to let us in your Awesome House of Harem."

Even Professor McGonagall's cried threats of detention couldn't stop the giggling and laughing from rippling across the tables. Though Penelope wore a scowl, there was a hint of relief in the corner of her eye that Tonks and Gemma noticed. There were still a few looks and whispers, and it wouldn't last forever, but Gemma's idea to bribe the Weasley Twins worked. If they could poke fun of it, it wasn't anything special. At least a few more days. It was long enough. A week where the first years wouldn't be targeted by the more hostile elements of Hogwarts.

"Your class schedules," Professor Bathsheda Babbling announced near the end of the meal, walking down the mostly empty table set up for their house to eat their meals. "Tonks, Clearwater, and Farley will have your main classes together, rotating between your old houses."

"Charms with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, then History with Slytherin and Ravenclaw, finishing off with Herbology with Hufflepuff and Gryffindor," Hermione read off before turning to Tonks. "Is it usual to be grouped with other houses?"

"For your core classes, yes," Tonks answered as she popped part of a croissant in her mouth. "The first few flying lessons are all the first years together, along with astronomy."

"Astronomy is Wednesday night," Susan supplied.

"And other fifth years like myself have Astronomy Thursday night," Gemma took up the explanation. "In your third year, you get to pick your electives like Ancient Runes and Divination, and those classes will be everyone from your year as well."

"Time to get to Charms," Penelope announced to the rest of their table. There was a few last minute mouth-stuffings, but within a minute all fourteen first-year Harems (as they'd taken to calling themselves out of lack of appropriate alternatives) marched after the three fifth-year Harem Prefects.

"We're not worthy, we're not worthy, " called the twins from the Gryffindor table, sparking another round of laughter. Since the laughter was directed at the twins and not her firsties, Penelope was internally grateful for it while externally giving a scathing scowl.

"Flitwick looks and acts like an off-balance garden gnome, but he's a world ranked dueling champion," Tonks commentated to the firsties as they walked. "You'll have a cauldron full of fun, especially if you pay attention to his little tricks and tips. Charms form the basis for much of the magic you'll learn at Hogwarts, so it'll be useful."

There were numerous Ravenclaws already waiting for the classroom door to open, so the Harem prefects left their charges with a promise to be back in time to escort them and the Ravenclaws to their next class, History of Magic.

Although Penelope would never condone it out loud, she approved of Tonk's plan to distribute pillows before Binn's first lecture.


Pamela and Harley would have sworn like sailors if they thought they could do so without puking. It took a moment to settle their stomachs from the twisting and twirling of the portkey given to them by the grey haired witch waiting for them at the entrance to Platform 9 and 3/4. Once that was done, Pamela, Harley, and Frank stood upright and looked around at their surroundings.

Looming castle off in the distance? Check.

Dark and forbidding forest oozing with magical plant life? Check.

Quaint village that wouldn't look out of place at a high end Renaissance Faire? Check.

Buxom tavern wench in robes and an apron walking towards them? Check.

"If she asks us to go kill rats in the basement or fetch a dozen wolf pelts or save her daughter from bandits, I'm outta here," Harley muttered to her significant other as she adjusted her lab coat.

"You've played Dudley's RPG games too much," Pamela said back with a smile.

"I'm with Harley on this one," Frank chimed in, his eye stalks scanning their surroundings. "This is your stereotypical fantasy setting. I don't see any cars or phones or anything made this century. I think we traveled in time."

"I knew it. I said to myself, 'Harley, don't pick up the old boot some random witch lady gives you.' I should have listened."

"Welcome to Hogsmeade. I'm Rosmerta, proprietor of the Three Broomsticks," the woman greeted as she got closer, waving her hand at the tavern she had exited a few moments earlier. To her credit, she only looked shocked for a second at Frank and didn't give Pamela's green skin a second glance. "Dumbledore asked me to greet you and take you up to Hogwarts as soon as you arrived."

"How is Old Whiskersface?" Harley asked. "Still limping?"

"He is still limping, but it's barely noticeable these last few years," Rosmerta slowly confirmed, suddenly unsure about the group's casual name for the esteemed headmaster. "Though he refuses to tell us why. Must have been a dark curse if the healers couldn't take care of it."

"Dark curse indeed," Pamela smirked, before slapping her hand over Harley's mouth to stop her from revealing the truth. "This is our first time to Hogwarts, lead the way."

"Americans?" Rosmerta asked as she led them up the path to the castle/school. She had cast a featherweight charm on Frank as soon as they started walking, allowing Pamela to hold his pot in one hand.

"Yup," Harley confirmed. "Born and raised."

"I suspect you went to Ilvermorny, then?" Rosmerta guessed. "Not as fine as Hogwarts, but one of the best schools in the colonies."

"Gotham State, then finished up at Columbia. Correspondence courses for some of the classes, but my Ph.D.'s are still valid," Harley preened.

"I thought Castelobruxo was in Brazil, not Columbia?" Rosmerta questioned quietly, before shrugging her shoulders. "Regardless, you must be so proud of Harry. The rumors about his upbringing are truly outrageous, dragons and Merlin and unicorn herds and all that. I suspect the truth to be a bit more ordinary for a wizard. I knew his parents, James and Lily. I served them plenty of butterbeer when they were in Hogwarts. Them and their friends. I never would have suspected Sirius Black would be the one to betray them. Luckily he is locked up in Azkaban, and no one ever escapes that place."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Harley stopped walking and turned Rosmerta around to face her. "Tell me everything about this Sirius Black and Azkaban."


Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat nervously behind his desk, impatiently waiting for the arrival of Harry Potter's quasi-guardians. Ever since that first ill-fated trip, all Albus had been able to discover about the boy was that he was doing well at school, rarely in trouble, and was well-cared for. Given the circumstances, it was the best he could hope for for the child of James and Lily. Of the two women who had taken over the lives of Petunia and Vernon Dursley, all magical scrying and information gathering failed. Using muggle methods, he knew they called themselves Harley and Pamela, they were from the American continent, and they had no criminal record in England. From personal experience, he knew they were proficient in combat and earth magic.

He nervously fingered the letter from Harry that Bathsheda had given him during lunch. He didn't dare open it to read the contents, not with one of Harry's guardians in possession of the Elder Wand. He just hoped whatever the boy had written would not enrage his guardians.

Albus stood up, smoothed his robes, and sat down again, subtly adjusting the athletic support strap and cup as he did so in a vain attempt to get it more comfortable. The muggle invention was more like a torture device, but it would protect him from a bludger. A fair trade, in his old age.

"Lucy, I'm home," Harley Quinn, Guardian of Harry Potter and Bane of Dumbledore's Testicles, sang out as she burst through the door to his office. She wore a red blouse, black skirt, unbuttoned white lab coat, and the Elder Wand lazily holding her hair up in a bun as if the most powerful weapon in all of magicdom was a common hair-stick. Behind was Pamela Isley, also in a lab coat though she had hers done up to the clavicle. The giant mandrake-variant Pamela was carrying was surprising, though he wouldn't let it show.

"Ahh, yes, welcome," Dumbledore greeted hesitantly. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I trust our previous interaction at your home can be put behind us. Completely?"

"You've left our family alone, so it's water under the bridge," Harley smiled viciously. "Now, what's happened with Harry?"

As the two women loomed menacingly, Dumbledore swallowed his fear and extended the young Potter's letter out.

"I requested that Harry write you a letter to explain. I will answer any questions you that your ward did not cover. If you are willing to stay the day, I will let you speak with him after dinner tonight, along with the other parents who are arriving today."

Harley snatched the letter from his hand and ripped it open. With Pamela reading over her shoulder, the mothers scanned the letter, barely able to hold in their amusement.

"Thank you for taking care of Harry's magical mail so far," Pamela spoke halfway through reading the letter. "And I take it the creation of a new house is notable at Hogwarts?"

"Never happened before," Dumbledore confirmed, internally relieved that the two hadn't reacted violently to the letter. He allowed himself to relax slightly. "It'll be front page news within the week, and then the amount of scrutiny on it will be massive. We can discuss later, at your convenience, Harry's mail. The technical details on it are extensive and complex, and not as urgent as the current situation."

They were silent for another minute.

"Academically, how will this impact him?" Harley questioned after she put down the letter.

"Very little, with the help of the staff," Dumbledore relaxed into his answer. Hogwarts education was his domain, and one he cared for greatly. "Compared to the other four, there will be less students in their house to form study groups or to ask for assistance on homework. The teachers are aware and we are working on a variety of solutions to mitigate these difficulties, from additional office hours to formally establishing inter-house study groups. As for the actual day-to-day classes, the nature of Hogwarts schedules makes it trivial to include them to the existing rotations."

"Since he is in Awesome House of Harem," Pamela began before Frank interrupted with a snicker. She continued with a stern look to the plant. "House of Harem, what type of sex ed do you teach here? Our conversations with him have been limited to the basics."

"Ahh, well, very little," Dumbledore stammered slightly. "The school provides handouts to the parents at the end of second year to assist them in explaining to their children over the summer break, but the school itself does not provide formal education on that particular topic."

"That's idiotic," Harley derided. "How do you not have babies popping out every year?"

"Intervention by the Head of the Houses and prefects, as well as use of an infertility wards," Dumbledore explained. "It is not foolproof, but pregnancy for those sixth year and below is about one every nine years. Those caught engaging in those types of behaviors are sent to Madam Pomfrey, who provides her own personalized brand of preventative education which has thus far been effective. Since the current system is effective, the School Board sees no reason to change."

"Still idiotic," Harley grumbled.

"Do you know what caused the formation of the new house, or how it determined who is in it?" Pamela asked next while her wife pouted.

"Magical interference with the Sorting Hat," Dumbledore summarized as he pointed to the natty headwear proudly sitting on the nearby shelf. "The Sorting Hat is a magical artifact created at the founding of Hogwarts to determine the best place for students to grow. Whatever caused it to form a new house was in place for years before Harry arrived at Hogwarts, possibly decades or even centuries. We are still investigating, but we can rule out malicious intent."

"And just how do you know that?" Harley asked, her bubbly mood recovered slightly.

"As far as the timeline, some older students were told during their sorting five years ago that they might switch houses, so it is at least 5 years old. The word 'Awesome' came into existence in the late 16th century, so it is unlikely the magic was originally placed in the Sorting Hat. As for the intent, a wizard or witch can feel the desire of the magic around them. It takes preparation, skill, and luck, but is highly reliable when it works. As I examined the hat immediately after the sorting, I discovered whatever was used, it's intent was Not Hostile. It could have been intended to be helpful, or neutral, or benign, or inadvertent. I could not determine. Only that it was not hostile towards any of the students, and not any spell or ritual known to myself."

"That's not ominous at all," Harley muttered to her wife before clearing her throat. "Tell you what, Bumblebore. It looks like this whole new house thing isn't going to hurt Harry's education, so if you keep treating Harry like any other student, we see nothing wrong with him being a . . . Haremite? Pilegesh? Eunuch? Any idea what they're calling themselves?"

"I believe they are currently calling themselves Harems," Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "Though 'Awesomes' is in the running. I expect one of the nicknames will come out on top by the end of next week."

"Not as good as Cobb Squad," Harley smirked at Pamela before turning to Dumbledore. "We'll come back in the next week or two with our lawyers to figure out the whole mail thing. Do we need an escort or something to hang around the school until dinner, because the barmaid said she couldn't wait for us to be finished."

"The Astronomy professor, Aurora Sinistra, has volunteered to give you a tour of Hogsmeade and the school grounds," Dumbledore explained. "Other parents may join you as they arrive today. Lunch will be provided to you over in the village and dinner will be in the Great Hall here. There is several hours before curfew that you could talk with Harry, but do remember he may have assignments from classes."

"It hasn't even been a week, we won't take up too much of his time," Pamela promised.

A knock at the door distracted Harley from adding her two cents, and Dumbledore admitted the apathetic-looking astronomy professor. She raised one eyebrow at Harley, Pamela, and Frank, then with a wordless shrug beckoned them to follow her.

"Enjoy the rest of your visit," Dumbledore smiled to the retreating guardians of the Boy-Who-Lived. "We likely will not be able to meet again today, so I bid you adieu."