Wizengamot
Harry took his seat and looked around.
"Good afternoon, Lord Potter," said Lady Ven.
"Good evening, Lady Ven," said Harry and Ginny.
"Which of tonight's agenda items do you find most compelling?" said Harry.
"Oh, several," she said with a vague wave of her hand, "But I expect most of our drama will come from that quarter," she nodded over her shoulder to the 'sty'.
Harry looked, there were … perhaps 20 candidates waiting for permission to sit.
"How many of them are new heirs of old houses," said Ginny, "and how many are representatives of houses that are candidates for new seats?"
"I think about half and half," said Lady Ven.
"Twenty is about a fifth of our number, isn't it?"
Lady Ven nodded and started re-explaining her conspiracy theory which was vaguely accurate actually, but blamed the House of Robards for things that Harry was vaguely sure were secondary effects of some of Voldemort's manipulations six to eight months ago.
Then again, who was to say that the House of Robards wasn't up to something, or wasn't the tool that Voldemort had used? Or merely a terrain feature that he(she) had predicted and used to direct and redirect the flow of opinion in the desired direction.
Rather than be bored to tears by a third repetition of the same theory, he sat down and started going over his notes about each agenda item. Though he'd only prepared one amendment sufficiently well to be comfortable presenting it.
Ginny passed him a note, "One of the candidates has a Sher-mark, Who is he?"
Harry sat up and looked, "I've never seen him before."
"Huh?" said Ginny, "How is that possible?"
"Oh," said Harry, "that's … I don't know his real name, but I suspect that is Luna's uncle or something."
"Oh, Hmm."
"Oh, Hermione and Theo just arrived,"
"I didn't think they were likely to get a nomination."
"No idea," said Harry, "Perhaps Draco and Theo have analysed the numbers differently than we have."
"Percy just ran a message to Lady Gaunt," said Ginny, " … and now they're arguing about it."
"Hmm," said Harry, "It would be interesting to hear what that's about."
"I bet you could find out by just walking over and saying 'hi'."
"Maybe," said Harry, "probably. But Percy might resent it."
"Hmm," said Ginny.
.
An hour later, all the heirs with their documentation together had their seats, and all the new houses with sufficient documentation (and sufficient history) had been sworn in and given seats.
Hermione and Theo were still in the sty, comparing notes and the meeting agenda.
At the earliest possible moment, Lady Prewett stood and proposed a bill to expand the percentage of seats that could be filled by county elections to make up any future shortfalls, because if there were another year as bad as the previous, they might not make the quorum.
After 45 minutes of vehement rhetoric against the bill, people started proposing counter-bills or amendments that amounted to stopgap attempts to make quorum requirements less binding under 'extraordinary circumstances' (as yet un-enumerated) (so that the proposed bill was either unnecessary or would never be triggered anyway.)
Eventually, Lady Gaunt proposed an amendment that would lower the number of necessary signatures to become a candidate as needed to fill the elected seats by "1000 or 5% whichever is lesser" every month, whenever there were empty elected seats for more than a quarter, and suggested the numbers should return to normal again either gradually or every time all the seats were filled. Or once all the seats were filled, it should remain at one higher than whatever number of signatures was held by the currently seated member with the minimum.
The rhetoric became even more aggressive but seemed to be originating from even fewer voices.
The numbers were adjusted, minimum limits were added, then changed to adjust to reasonably reflect the population, and finally, the bill passed.
"We knew they weren't going to keep that from being passed," said Ginny, "What did spending an hour insulting us accomplish?"
"They probably don't really understand who's listening," said Harry, "As to what they accomplished, they've earned spots higher up Lady Gaunt's list of obstructionists to remove."
"Oops?" said Ginny.
"Or at least that's how I interpret the look she was giving them."
Ginny nodded.
"Did you see the look Dumbledore gave us," said Harry, "when I joined the vote for more populist seats?"
"Yeah," said Ginny, "I hadn't really considered how emotionally attached he might be to the light traditionalist, rather than light populist ideals."
Then Lady Gaunt (citing the problem of meeting quorum) proposed a bill that evicted from their seat, any house or elected representative that could not be bothered to show up or send a proxy for 12 consecutive months.
There was a lot of argument, but everyone knew the hall stayed about a third empty because of old houses that couldn't be bothered to take their posts seriously. And a few who were 'boycotting' in protest for something or other, if they were dark Houses, it might be because their fellow members appointed half-blood proxies, if they were light houses, it might be because their fellow members being half-human or appointed half-human proxies, (which there had been more of since the werewolf bill had shown which way the winds were blowing). Some of the traditionalist houses (both colours) had been boycotting for a century and a half about the populist seats even existing.
(Harry thought they had a point, but since no one had taken seriously creating a house of commons for the populist representatives, he found he couldn't be arsed to care much about that.)
Amendments were proposed and eventually accepted, such that houses so evicted were not permanently barred from Wizengamot representation, nor did they lose the preferment of their long history, but they were banned from being re-nominated for a period of ten years, or until a new heir became head of that house.
There was a lot of rhetoric, some of it frustrating, most of it intriguing and … eventually creative.
Some of the amendments were added, and the bill was shelved until the next meeting.
"Well," said Ginny as they stood and stretched, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but if that goes through … so many seats will become available that it basically guarantees entry for Percy and Hermione?"
"I had no idea your brother was politicking in that direction, but yeah, something like that," said Harry.
"Oh, he definitely is," said Ginny, "He's been … thinking along those lines since before he became a prefect."
"Wow, ok," said Harry.
"Why are you surprised?"
"I always figured him for one to promote ministry power to the obsolescence of Wizengamot treaty, actually."
"Hmm," said Ginny, "I mean, there are arguments to be made for that sort of thing also … but I think he believes that an entirely populist Wizengamot could be of benefit to the nation, unlike what we have now. (No offence, Lord Potter)."
"None taken, Lady Potter."
.
...-...
Summer Scenes
Bryon Angelopoulos looked up from his doodle to see … seemingly a white teen with black cornrows step into his office. Wearing a short sleeve white button-up, Khaki shorts, leather bracers, and a sword to complete his bizarre ensemble.
And he'd sneaked in through the conference room, rather than entering from the hall.
If he wasn't a very eccentric assassin, he was at the very least, creative and enterprising. He looked muscular enough. Might be one of the pruners, newly hired for the summer, looking to start an argument, or settle one quickly, not afraid to step outside of channels if it got problems solved faster. Still green enough to not understand that such protocol violations inevitably led to less trust and more micro-managing and red tape in the end. Not that injustice shouldn't be ended quickly where possible but …
He seemed to notice Byron was on the phone and closed his mouth with a snap.
So he did have some sense of place, even if he thought himself above mere receptionists.
"Lord Potter!" frantically hissed a larger brown-haired someone from the conference room door, "That's the CEO's office."
A beat of irritation & confusion.
"I thought you wanted to see my dad. The C.F.O."
Ah, that was Mr. Windrow's son. And 'Lord Potter,' … would be the new face of the curiously absent majority shareholder. Not that his share was as overwhelming as it had been when his parents had left it to him, what with stock options and pension plans being what they were. Another two decades of neglect and they might manage to fulfil the requirements to be called an 'employee-owned corporation.'
"May I put you on hold?" said Byron, "Someone unexpected has just stepped in."
"Yes, it's fine," huffed the woman, though there might have been a smirk in her tone.
Lawyers must know that they are overpaid if they're that happy to be put on hold.
Byron put the phone down.
"Sorry to bother you," said Lord Potter with a tiny bow, "I do wish to speak with you sometime, but I had planned to make an appointment via a more normal route." He backed away as far as the door, "Does Wednesday lunch sound possible?"
"Not this Wednesday," said Byron, "check with my receptionist."
"Alright," shrugged Lord Potter, and backed out the rest of the way.
Byron strained his ears to listen to their footsteps pass out of the conference room and down the hall in the direction of accounting.
He again lifted the phone to his ear.
.
Ginny lifted Harry's hand to her lips. Then looked up, "What did Regent Bones want?"
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I expected it was a legal conference, but you didn't go to a study, you went to Susan's bedroom."
"Do the wards see any finer detail than that?"
She shook her head, "They used to, but at least one person before me had as much interest in privacy control as I do."
Harry nodded, "she wanted a child."
Ginny stared, "I thought she planned to wait until a year after Susan's first."
"She is," said Harry.
"Then … what?"
"Ernest or Ernesta Bones-McMillan, or McMillan-Bones depending on how the McMillans feel about the tribute."
"Circe," breathed Ginny.
Harry nodded.
"What did you say?"
Harry shrugged, "I was kind of speechless, I fulfilled my contract duties as best I could, and then, … sent her to check the password on the infirmary floo."
Ginny shrugged, then froze, then blinked, "Is that … but Padma…"
"Padma believes that her sister isn't wrong about divination being a worthwhile course of study," said Harry, "But she's never mentioned believing herself to have any talent, I'm not yet going to confuse her with coincidences, though maybe I'll start tracking the ones I notice."
Ginny smiled indulgently.
.
"Hello, Hanna," said Luna.
"Hello, Luna,"
"If you hurry you'll be in time to watch the sword lessons."
"Is that where Neville is?"
"No, he's out back with Parvati and Ben teaching remedial Herbology."
"I … didn't think he needed that."
"He doesn't," said Luna, "all of them need to trust each other before they start weeding, and tending, and they need that before they tackle remedial potions."
"Oh!" said Hanna, "Is Susan at the sword lessons?"
"Of course,"
"Good, where are they?"
"Out front, across the street, can't miss them."
"Thanks."
.
"Ginny, are you awake? May I join you?" whispered Luna.
"Yes," said Ginny, "though I'm tuckered out, and might not talk much."
"That's fine," said Luna, "May I talk though?"
That sounded important.
"Yes," said Ginny.
Luna stripped to her new leather underthing and climbed in beside her.
Ginny and Harry had been experimenting with embroidering runes on fabric, but so far it didn't work quite the same as engraved leather or woven directly into the cloth. Hence they all had a second leather underthing by now, because none of the fabric ones had proper temperature control.
When Luna said nothing at all, Ginny said, "How was your day?"
"Everyone else was busy," said Luna, "So I decided to visit the last of the footbridges by myself, except Stormy saw me as I passed the old cottage, so she decided to join me."
"Ah," said Ginny, "I suppose she's an odd exploring companion?"
"Yes, she doesn't pick things to talk about the way humans choose," said Luna, "she even gave me a ride for part of the way."
"Oh, how was that?"
"More fast but more bumpy than Parvati, slower than you."
"Yes, well, I suppose I could beat her in a race, no matter how big she can get."
"We've seen the biggest she can get," said Luna, "But at the stream, we met another kelpie. It's bigger than the one in the cage, but not as scared or hungry or mean as that one. Stormy could translate."
"Oh," said Ginny, "what do kelpies sound like when they talk to each other?"
"Whatever you're expecting them to sound like," said Luna, "I was expecting octopuses flashing colours so that is what I saw."
"Oh," said Ginny.
"It was very pretty," said Luna, "It even joined Stormy and I for our picnic."
The kelpie was pretty, or the colour show was pretty? Just how lonely had Luna been that she'd been content with taking a sub-human on a picnic date… and then being relegated to third wheel when another kelpie showed up.
"Was the other kelpie a boy or a girl?"
"Huh?" said Luna, "I don't think they come in boy or girl."
"But Stormy is a girl,"
"That's like saying Wotcher is a girl."
"But Wotcher is a girl?" said Ginny, "Even Harry agreed after Padma and Parvati bullied him into asking."
"Wotcher is more like a mirror," said Luna, "everyone but Harry and I feel like they're talking to a girl, so we pretend we do too to make conversations clearer."
"Wotcher is a mirror?"
"Yeah," said Luna, "A lot of people that want their wards to have a face attach them to a mirror. The Potters liked being outdoors more than that, and didn't tie the interface to a physical object. Then Harry came along and insisted it use a name other than himself, I think it's making it easier and harder for him to use properly. But … maybe since he already has two familiars and an animagus form, he likes naming the insides of himself just as much as the outside parts of the world."
"Perhaps," said Ginny, "What does Wotcher seem like to you?"
"A painting of a dryad," said Luna, "I like how Harry made it insist on telling you about the plants you've helped."
"I've helped a lot of plants," said Ginny, "it can get kind of distracting."
"Oh," said Luna, "sorry."
"You were telling me about the kelpie you found?"
"I was?" said Luna.
"You said it was pretty?"
Luna shrugged.
"Did it try to look like something interesting?"
"It liked to look like Stormy looking like a selkie, and it liked to look like me, and it liked to look like itself, depending on what the conversation was about right then."
"Oh, ok," said Ginny.
"Except, after we were done eating, I got to daydreaming and it turned into a crumple-horned snorkack.
"I … don't think I know what those look like."
"Kind of like erumpents, except really hairy, like … goats or mammoths."
"So just … very very big unicorns?"
Luna shook her head, "Hairier than unicorns."
"Oh."
"Also they tend toward the lavender end of blue, since all the deep Tyrian ones got hunted out long ago."
"Oh."
"And it turned into one?"
"Yes," said Luna, "So I let it give me a ride."
"Wasn't that … incredibly dangerous?"
Luna shook her head, "crumple-horned snorkacks really aren't that violent."
"No, I meant, if it was really a kelpie underneath."
"Oh," said Luna, "But I'd just fed it lunch, it was fine, and anyway, Their magic can't make us stick to them while we're wearing iron or silver. She shook her foot so her anklet jingled."
"Hmm, if you say so," said Ginny.
"I do," said Luna. She snuggled in tighter.
"Would you like to show me the bridge sometime?"
"Yes," said Luna, "When?"
"Let's see … Tomorrow is Harry's turn to cook, maybe after I'm done gardening?"
"Sure," said Luna, "I'll help you."
"I'd like that," said Ginny.
.
"You want me to turn which arithmancy into a runic medallion?" said Susan.
Harry told her, again.
"Why?"
Harry told her.
"That sounds like muggle-baiting."
Harry shook his head, "I'm going to give it to a half-blood for a birthday present."
"Do you have the identity rune of either target?"
"No."
"A good way to ask?"
"No," said Harry, "I know we can key one of them by touch the same way snitches key to the first player to touch them. Is there a way to collect two signatures?"
"Yes, but 'first touch' sounds excessively difficult to work with. Do you suppose we could do 'last two people to touch it,' and you can social engineer both of them to touch it?"
Harry shrugged, "if nothing else will work."
"I think, nothing else would be easier."
"Alright," said Harry, "Which means, it needs to be … the person wearing it, and the last person to touch it other than the person wearing it."
"Buffer of two signatures," said Susan, "That part is very doable, now about the arithmancy. … how are you going to trick a half-blood into putting it on?"
"They sort of asked for it, I'm just choosing a release condition that is both more and less annoying than anything I've heard of before."
She stared at him, "Do either of them know enough arithmancy or runes to guess what it does?"
Harry shrugged.
"How are you going to trick them into participating?"
Harry shrugged.
"Do you want to camouflage the transfiguration, or the identity buffer maintenance runes within something different, perhaps more normal?"
Harry shrugged, "Like what?"
Susan shrugged.
.
Severus Snape stepped out onto the veranda and looked around, the sound of tinkling silver bells drew his attention to two girls wearing silver charm anklets, dragon hide wand holsters, and brown suede summer dresses, sitting on the shady end of the porch. A closer look and it was Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, they were sitting at a tiny card table eating biscuits and wine and playing a rather desultory-looking game of chess. Either that or they'd recently restarted, but it really looked to him like they'd either started the game for camouflage, and were really there to talk, or …
That wasn't the smell of wine, that was blueberry cordial cut with water, mint, and … orange juice. That sounded a bit more normal for summer afternoon fare.
And those weren't golden bracelets with odd silver animal decorations, those were kelpie harnesses with the kelpies imitating very small amphibians so as to stay close to the focus of their magic.
Severus shuddered, if either of them brought those to Hogwarts and they caught wind of Hogwarts' resident kelpies … things could get very very interesting, and not at all in a good way.
"Is Lord Potter around?" said Severus.
"Professor Snape!" said Ginny.
"Hello Severus," said Luna, "He's on the third floor with Padma and Susan, playing with a contradictory arithmancy."
"Why?"
"When they went about changing a transfiguration charm into its runic form they proved that the arithmancy showed the transfiguration becomes unstable in less than three weeks. They suspect that there should be a stable version, but when they went back to the original source, that version was unstable after only three days, but had a safer end trigger. They're trying to figure out what the stable version ought to be."
"Humph," said Severus. Why anyone would permanently transfigure something when they could just conjure something from scratch and turn that conjuration permanent for the rest of their life … Or get the correct materials to start with and do some shaping …
Well, no matter.
"I guess I'll look for him there, thank you for your time," he turned away, to hear a wet plop behind him. He turned back to find a translucent grey blob turning into a small human shape facing away from him.
"Lady Moon," it said, "Storm says to tell you, Ben requests help about a mushroom. Melantha is arguing with him about it."
"Ugh," said Ginny, "that's probably both of us."
"Take me to him," Luna said and tossed the child over the railing into the sunlight where it seemed silver rather than white. By the time Luna jumped over the railing and made her way to it, it was an extra woolly unicorn the colours of violets and roughly the size of an adolescent dragon. She jumped again, somehow levitating herself feet first and onto its back.
"Go," she said and it raced off. Making not nearly enough 'thundering hoof-beats,' noise for something that size.
"Wotcher?" said Ginny and was gone.
What sort of portkey activation phrase was that? Anyone might say that to you at the drop of a hat, complete strangers even.
Just the mischief that unattended children get themselves into because they don't think far enough ahead.
Luckily not his business, because they were within nationally registered wards, and any breach of the statute it would be laid to Potter's blame.
He turned and went inside.
.
"Potter," said Severus.
Harry turned, "Hello and welcome." he nodded, between equals.
Which was either terribly presumptuous, … or retroactive permission for me to not call him 'lord.'
Miss Bones at least seemed surprised to see him.
Padma looked … mostly unsurprised, "I'm glad you could visit," she said, "How long are you staying?"
"Long enough to pass on a message," said Severus, "but the floo didn't seem set up to summon anyone to a floo call, so I apparated over."
"Damn," said Potter, "I knew I'd forgotten something."
Severus sneered his indifference.
"I'll get to it later," said Potter, "What's the message?"
"Headmaster Karkaroff wishes to make an appointment."
"And he can't just owl?"
"You've been impossible to reach by owl for most of your life."
"Damn," said Potter, "I need to get that settled too. Wotcher remind me to …" He made two faces then returned his attention to Severus, "Where would he like to meet?"
"Are you asking about his convenience or your own?"
Potter shrugged.
"Do you want my advice?" said Severus.
Potter blinked, "Yes, please."
"Your Wizengamot office."
Potter stared into the middle distance, then smiled, "that sounds perfect, when and how long is he available?"
"When are you?"
"If this is at my convenience, Wednesday afternoons," said Potter.
Severus stared, "is that all?"
"Yes," said Potter, "Mornings alternate between sword training or range time with Parvati, Susan, and most of the House of Granger. Afternoons I have various studies or projects, with various people. Saturdays are muggle studies via err cinematic literature? at the Davis' house."
Severus wondered how the Davis' parents felt to host not two but five Houses' worth of magical teens, visiting for the dubious pastime of Saturday morning cartoons, then a classic movie on video cassette and probably a painfully open discussion of culture, ethics, and politics.
"I see," said Severus, "I have one more thing."
.
Harry looked up sharply at the Professor's brighter tone. He'd very rarely heard Professor Snape have a brighter tone. It was usually when he was about to take points off a gryffindor. "Go ahead," he said in trepidation.
"Your OWL score for potions was EE, I usually only take O students for my NEWT classes."
"Where are you going with this?"
"You were one of three students that achieved EE, and relatively high for EE at that, the rest were squarely O or barely A."
Harry shrugged.
"Given the … extenuating circumstances, I might be willing to … grant you an exception."
Harry blinked. He almost said, 'Yes, please,' because that's what you did when someone offered to overlook a bad grade.
"What's in it for you?" said Harry.
"I'll want you for a teaching assistant."
Basically, someone to do the dirty work when he doesn't have enough detentions to fill out his schedule … He's offering to let me volunteer for a year's worth of detentions. How do I get out of this?
"That doesn't make sense if my grades are lower than the rest of the class."
"True. Though as I said there were reasons you might not have been in top form for the examination, but I was thinking that you might help with the fifth-year material, specifically in the areas that you seemed weakest, it would give you a chance to prove yourself to have been worthy of my consideration."
Or an excuse/chance to cram and catch up, so as not to make him look bad.
"I see," Harry sighed, "Thank you for your consideration, but it's going to take me a few days to decide."
"Take a week," said Professor Snape, "but after that, the offer is gone."
"Understood," said Harry.
The professor nodded and left the room.
"You're going to do it, right?" said Padma.
"I'm not sure I'll have time," said Harry.
.
Footsteps approached the other side of the door, there was a long pause, and then the door was snatched open.
"Lord Potter," the woman curtsied.
"I told you, Mrs. Windrow, you may call me Harry."
She rolled her eyes, "and I told you you may call me Alice."
Harry nodded, "I'll try to get used to that," Somehow it seemed less sane than calling Albus by his first name.
Harry held out the gift-wrapped package he'd brought, "Something for the party tomorrow. Or more probably, after it."
She frowned at him but accepted it.
"Should I take it that you will not be able to attend?"
"Probably not," said Harry.
She frowned at the box, "it has some active magic … runes I think?"
"It's an escape portkey necklace," said Harry, "Umm, it looks inert most of the time so wearing it is fine, but it visibly notices every time someone touches it until someone is wearing it, so … it shouldn't be opened in front of muggles."
"A necklace?" she said, "isn't that a bit … feminine?"
"He liked the anklets that my wives wear, this is brass and leather, sort of a tribal look, I think you'll find the look unisex enough to pass muster with uptight muggles."
She glared at him a moment, then shrugged, "How many anchors?"
"Just one," said Harry, "I couldn't figure out how to do verbal, but the arithmancy for triggering on kissing wasn't difficult to figure out."
"So he kisses it to activate it?"
Harry nodded.
She shrugged, "alright."
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
"What!" she said.
He shrugged, "I'm just past OWLs," said Harry, "I know that standard anchored portkeys often use custom runes, but … I couldn't figure out how that worked, so I used an anchor of the last person to touch it before it is put on. Between your vocation compared to your husband's I assumed that would usually be you. Or sometimes your eldest."
She nodded.
.
...-...
Freyazegen
[Lord, the being called Ben Windrow begs for your assistance.]
Is it a boy or a girl at the moment?
[Ben is a girl at the moment.]
"Right on time," said Harry.
"What?" said Padma breathlessly.
"Wotcher says, that Ben has tried on its birthday present."
"Oh, how does he like it?"
[Ben is crying and annoyed. But not miserable at all. I'm not sure I've seen her this happy since she was five.]
"Good," said Padma, and rolled her eyes.
She focused on Harry, "Are you going to check on him right now, or can we finish first?"
Harry shook his head, "Over the last three weeks, I've given her enough time in the shape of that project; that she can wait an hour for us to finish this, and anything else you want."
"Am I worth more to you than she is?"
"Why would you even ask that?"
Padma raised an eyebrow, "She's older?"
"And in theory, her family has served mine for longer," Harry shook his head, I don't know why you'd get it into your head that I assign status based on either age or wealth. "You've done more for me and mine, and shown significantly more obvious potential for continuing that in the future."
She narrowed her eyes.
Harry sighed, "Never mind, strictly by legal code, you're the head of a Family, in the House of Black, she's not the head of a Family, at most she's last in line to be heir of her family."
Padma sighed, "So I'm worth more because of higher social status?"
"More like, I've given you higher social status because you've earned it."
Padma frowned, "So my status is only based on how well I keep up with the hubrisly ambitious plans we concocted a year and a half ago?"
Harry shrugged, then shook his head, "There's still hope for those plans, and we're in a better position now than we were then."
"Can we not talk about all the death eaters you've marked as your own? It kills the mood."
Harry smiled, "That wasn't really my point, hmm … Have you ever heard the saying, 'the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb'?"
Padma frowned, "Did my dad give you that lecture?"
Harry shook his head, "I overheard Parvati convincing Ginny that she hadn't gone crazy for kind-of-liking Parvati better than her previous favourite brother, Charlie. And that wanting to formalise that with promises and rituals was normal instinct, not symptoms that she was under potions."
"Oh," said Padma, "What rituals did they choose?"
"I think Parvati convinced her that mutual thrall marks were enough until we're all old enough for legal marriages. With a heavily implied promise that they both want to marry each other not just me."
"Or enter a sufficiently similar covenant?"
Harry shrugged, "Yeah, I guess."
.
For most of a minute, they made no sound but heavy breathing. Then Padma's expression changed, "Wait a minute," she said, "Is it significant that you always cook enough for leftovers no matter how many people are expected to attend meals?"
"Maybe?" said Harry, "in what way?"
"One of the ritual elements in starting covenants is the feast, are you … always offering us extra to prove that it could be a feast if we so choose?"
Harry stared, "Partly … I guess, subconsciously, maybe," said Harry, "consciously it was more that: … until all my friends and allies get used to visiting, I want them to be sure that they know there's extra, rather than that there's not enough. So that they feel welcome. So that they … know that I count them as friends."
"Alright," said Padma, "so an intentional opposite of how your Aunt and Uncle treated you?"
Harry nodded, "And anyway, as long as the leftovers get eaten before they go bad, it's not technically wasteful."
Padma patted him on the shoulder, "I love you, too."
He blinked, then smiled. "Have I … been here for you enough?"
"What?" said Padma.
"You told, me back in May … that I'd let you, asked you to, whichever, become an orphan for me, not in the sense of letting your parents die, but asking you to start a new Family in a separate House, without even offering the normal compensation of nominally being the other member of your Family, which is to say, by marrying you. I've tried to stay more available. Whether it's for cooking or studying, or you summoning me to the loft because you need me there, instead of only when I need you there."
Padma smiled and sighed, "I chose the contract I wanted," she said, "Technically, you and Parvati are both backup rulers of the Family of Patil, when I am incapacitated, I'm sort of not alone. But yeah, I need you to keep being available. Thank you."
He nodded, "You're welcome, and thank you for explaining so I could finally understand."
She nodded, "But … you sound strained, you could probably be a little less alert than you have been from the sound of it."
"Oh," said Harry.
"As long as you're able to listen when I tell you that I need you."
"Alright," said Harry, "I'll try."
.
"Mm," sighed Harry, "wonderful." He fought to get his eyes open and met her gaze, "Are you near enough to your last to be content to stop now, or shall I switch to sucking?"
Padma smirked, "You'd need to forget shaving for longer than this for me not to want to give you lots more practice with those lips of yours."
Harry self-consciously checked his face for stubble. There was none, he'd washed it all off not three hours ago.
He climbed out of her, and slid his hands down her sides and thighs, before leaning in to lick and suck just the way she liked, starting at the lower edge of her folds and exploring upward toward her most sensitive parts.
Sometimes if he sucked just right, she'd buck and scream, though usually she'd just writhe and moan and run her fingers between his braids and scratch along the backs of his ears.
Once she'd brought him to full arousal just by rubbing his ears really hard. And he couldn't quite be sure if that was animagus related. He half suspected it was not. He kept meaning to ask her to do it to Leona but kept forgetting. And anyway, she preferred him to be male in bed.
.
As Harry sat on the edge of the bed sorting out their clothes, he said, "Do you want to 'come with,' when I check on 'Miss Ben'?"
"Why me?"
"Lady Potter is busy. Whereas, you helped Susan and I with the arithmancy, a lot. Not that I'm going to advertise anyone but myself as responsible until they've gotten over the shock."
"Huh?"
"They may be quite angry," said Harry, "Ben is grateful, but maybe not grateful enough to take responsibility for the fact that he asked. Meaning … leaving it my job to carry the responsibility to have made the final decision. Once the blaming settles down and goes away, and anyone gets around to admiring the intricacy of the arithmancy, then and only then will I spread the credit where it is due."
"Fair enough, thank you."
A brief pause, "No, thank you. Go on, I think I'll try for a shower."
"I can wait that long," said Harry, "especially if you invite me to help you with the shower."
She glared at him, then smirked, and waved a reprimanding finger.
"Well?"
She put her hands down, and rocked to her feet, "Yes, please do join me for a shower."
"Gladly."
.
No more than twenty minutes later they portkeyed to the front stoop of the Windrow house and knocked on the door.
Mr. Windrow opened the door looking dishevelled and harassed.
"My lord," he said, "This is … not a good time."
"Who is it?" called Mrs. Windrow from the house.
"It's Lord Harry," he called back.
There was a guttural cry of anguish and pounding footsteps.
"You!" she said, "You gave him that cursed necklace, you said it was safe, you said you made it yourself. You said it was only a portkey."
"I did make it myself," said Harry, "and it is a portkey. Were you the last person to touch it before she put it on?"
"Then I'll see you put in Azkaban," she growled.
Harry was mildly impressed, given the shade of her skin, that she hadn't laid hand on him yet, or even grabbed his collar.
"No, you won't," said Harry.
"Runic transfiguration of living flesh is illegal, has been since Queen Ella beheaded the mage whose wards were responsible for turning her mother into a cow."
Harry nodded, "that was the law in one, German city-state, (ex post facto even, if I recall), the nearest English equivalent at current, is spread out among the statute of secrecy, muggle baiting, and the misuse of muggle artefacts regulations. It doesn't apply to consensual use by mages."
"What!" said Mr. Windrow.
"I said," said Harry, "I gave your daughter exactly the present she wanted, though she didn't have the arithmancy to ask for the specific details required to make it work."
There was a hiccup, and Ben darted from the house and grabbed Harry in a tight embrace.
Her clothes were too loose or too tight in all the predictable places. She'd been in her new form for more than an hour and hadn't been allowed a chance to adjust her clothes. A skill which Harry knew she possessed. And as of today, couldn't she have legally used her wand at home without supervision? Or had she not remembered that yet, given the party and all the other drama?
Harry returned the embrace.
After no more than four seconds, he really wanted to start patting her back. But restrained the impulse, he might have effectively orphaned her, he would see this through.
There was a lot of appalled staring.
"What's your name again?" whispered Harry.
"Huh?" said the trembling girl, "No, not yet, you can name me if you want."
I will only take that privilege if your parents kick you out completely.
"But on the train…" said Harry.
She shook her head a little.
"You didn't tell us your real name," said Padma, "Just a muggle version: Jennifer."
The girl shook her head a little more.
"Freyazegen," hissed Mrs. Windrow, and closed her eyes in a grimace.
The girl in Harry's arms tensed but … mostly stopped trembling.
"Of course you chose Freyazegen," Mrs. Windrow turned and stomped back into the house.
Mr. Windrow frowned and seemed torn about going in after her, or staying to watch the almost strangers on the front porch hug his daughter.
Harry cleared his throat and looked him in the eye, "We've got your daughter for the moment, take as long as you each need."
He grimaced, in a way that Harry read as a promise of legal trouble (but probably not violence) if Harry were to mistreat his child in his absence. Then he turned and went inside and climbed the stairs. Though he left the door open.
Made sense, the weather was pleasant enough.
Freyazay-something relaxed.
There were a few shrieks but most of them sounded tearful, not angry.
"Freyazayhuh?" said Harry.
She muttered something, and let go, "Frey-ah-zay-ha," she said, "spelt: F-r-e-j-a-z-e-g-e-n."
"Oof," said Harry, "I was guessing something African, but not with that spelling."
"No, Norse or Dutch or something," said Freyazayha, "Means 'Freya's blessing' or something, Jenifer is fine."
"Do you … mind if I try it for a couple of weeks before I give up like that?"
She looked at him, and bit her lip, then nodded, "Yeah, that's fine."
"Freyazay-ha," said Harry.
Freyazegen nodded, then rolled her eyes, "There actually is an 'n' at the end, but it's understated, doesn't last as long as English, so don't know if you can hear it, or care to add it."
"Freyazay-han,"
"Better," said Freyazegen, "and it's less of an English 'h' and more of a throaty 'gh' which is why it gets a different letter, but whatever."
Harry tried again, giving the last syllable less of an emphasis, just a throatier 'h'.
Freyazegen grinned and nodded, "Now you've got an appropriate amount of n, once you're used to it and pronouncing it fast, the n will fade to where it should be."
"Ok," said Harry.
Padma said it even better, on her first try even. So … whatever.
Freyazegen nodded towards the bench swing at the end of the porch, then led the way.
They went and sat down. They ended up with Harry in the middle, with Freyazegen at his left and Padma at his right holding his hand in her lap.
Freyazegen sat and looked around, repositioned herself, and looked around again, then took Harry's other hand and leaned forward until she could rest her forehead on his palm.
Somehow her warm breath on Harry's wrist made him think of Crookshanks laying on Hermione's hip and elbow, or along her back, while Hermione lay on Harry's shoulder. The summer before last seemed a long time ago.
Bellatrix popped into the back of his mind, checked what was going on, and then radiated pleasure.
What?
Just catching up. You gave her permission to choose her own name, and you didn't immediately take Jenifer as the easy way out.
Obviously? Pronouncing new words is hard, but names are personal, it didn't make sense to give up before I even tried, but it also didn't seem fair to mangle her name twenty times in a row without asking for permission and tutoring first.
True, but not everyone would ask.
Harry sent her a mental shrug.
Anyway, it seems like it worked out, but … not sure I approve of you steamrollering her when she tried to tell you not to mention what name she'd picked out on the train. What if she'd changed her mind since then?
Fair enough.
"My—" started Freyazegen, then paused for twenty seconds and started again, "My favourite aunt on Mum's side was a little crazy, she didn't pray or keep a journal that I know of, but she talked to 'Freyazegen,' about her day, and mood, and aspirations, whenever she got busy with housework. I always liked the name, made me feel safe… I guess 'comfortable that things would follow the obvious routine for most of the next hour,' or whatever."
Someone sniffed from very nearby, perhaps hiding just inside the door frame.
"Hello?" said Padma.
"Wotcher," said Daniel, and stepped out of the house and leaned against the door frame.
"Freyazegen was Aunt Ashlinn's twin sister," said Daniel, "who died of Asian Flu in the 60s. She's who taught Mum to read."
"Ah," said Padma.
"There was talk when I was six, that maybe Mum was pregnant again, and maybe, if it was a girl, to name her after Aunt Frey. Maybe Ben heard some of that."
She shrugged.
"Then Ben almost died of meningitis, and took a couple of weeks to wake up," said Daniel, "The stress was pretty bad, and I guess there was a miscarriage. I don't know… mostly I just remember needing to teach Ben to talk and walk all over again."
Freyazegen shook her head, "Ben was visiting me in my dreams, Mum was letting him help her teach me to listen, letting him show me what the world looked like to him. Let him help teach me the name Mum had picked out for me."
"What are you talking about?" said Daniel.
She sat up, "Then he stopped visiting. I threw such a tantrum. And for once Mum didn't fight me back, didn't try to control me, just let me rage. Finally, I fought my way out by the path I knew Ben should come in by, and I found the world exactly as he described it. But he wasn't there anymore, here anymore, only you and Mum and Dad."
Daniel stared.
Freyazegen glared.
"The third time I went out looking for him, Mum let go of my … leash, and I fell the rest of the way into Ben's world, and couldn't climb back into my own dreams."
"Circe!" said Daniel, "That means you're like … twelve, er thirteen."
Freyazegen nodded, "Don't tell Mum and Dad?"
Daniel held up a finger, "we'll come back to that later. But … this is why your first two years of school were so weird and horrible?"
Freyazegen shrugged, "School was awesome, I just couldn't keep up with the other kids, I didn't really mind that as long as I was learning something, but ... I mean on the memorising tests I could make EE's, on theory comprehension only A's, but barely dreadful on the practicals. Someone should have had the sense to hold me back, but my grades looked good enough that no one seems to have considered it seriously except Professor Snape."
"Circe!" said Daniel, "How far below forms are you?"
Freyazegen shrugged, "Still getting Acceptables, but … still feeling— … I think … I'm as competent as I believe I should be for a third or fourth year."
"A year or two ahead of yourself, or two years behind Ben, rather than four?"
Freyazegen nodded, "I'm doing my best, but … it doesn't leave time for friends or anything."
Daniel raised an eyebrow, "you seemed to be doing alright on that front when we picked you up in London."
Freyazegen shook her head, "I convinced Lord Harry that I'm part of the House of Potter, and he told his friends to make room for me."
"Oh," said Daniel and looked at Harry and Padma, "you didn't know?"
Harry shrugged, "I never considered checking the House and Clan registry office to see if my House had any surviving members other than myself until Freyazegen suggested it as the obvious way to check her veracity."
"Oh," said Daniel, "but why not?"
Harry shrugged, "I'd been told I was the last of my family by enough people that rebuilding my Family and House were already integral parts of my identity before I really understood what a House was or that the ministry might need to keep track of them, or that their records might be useful for tracking down active members or recent members who might enjoy being invited to rejoin if they'd left or been forced out for forgivable reasons."
"Ah," said Daniel, "Why would the reasons they were forced out be forgivable?"
Harry shrugged, "Aunt Andromeda … one of my cousins in the House of Black was forced out for marrying a muggle-born, the new Lord Black doesn't see that as a problem and invited her back with her entire new family."
"Ah, Of course," said Daniel, "well … I think all the recent banishments from Potter were over a generation ago, maybe two, so there might be descendants worth inviting back, but I'd advise you to check very carefully. I think the last banishment punished mistreatment of refugee squibs."
Harry nodded, "Speaking of: What do you know about Melantha's family? Her Mum could only quote me last names, not the significance of any of them. A few sounded familiar, but I barely know which families are in which houses."
Daniel gave him a look. Then nodded.
"Not something I've tried to memorise either, Her father was a second-generation squib, Potter and Malrosen (which is easiest to find in House Urquhart, but it's not the only place), he died in a lorry smash up, I think when I was seven or eight, her mother is second and third generation squib, Bulstrode I think, I've no idea what house they're part of (if any), but I haven't gotten the vibe that they're unhoused often. I don't remember the other names, not sure if I ever knew."
"Alright," said Harry, "Thanks."
"Melantha's a good kid," said Daniel, "I should look her up and see how she's doing. I always did wonder why she didn't get a letter, she seemed magical enough to me."
"She didn't get a letter," said Harry, "Because the House of Potter scholarship isn't automated enough, nor synchronised enough to send her a letter or send tuition to Hogwarts so they'd send her a letter. And I didn't get a letter until the year after she should have gotten hers, and didn't know enough to do anything about her until last Christmas hols, I'm planning on sending her to City of London day school this autumn."
"City of London! but … that's …"
Harry stared.
"A … rival alma mater?"
Harry smiled, "that doesn't really bother me, the point is that she's got a lot of pets, and I refuse to suggest she choose just one to take to Hogwarts, nor that she abandon any responsibilities that she may feel towards the rest."
"Fine, fine," said Daniel, "you know, commuting to Hogwarts is allowed for the seventeen and ups. Fifteen and ups if you can document family or house responsibilities elsewhere."
Harry rolled his eyes, "So they tell me, but …"
"So you're Head of House," said Daniel, "And you can document anything you please."
"And it breaks child labour law to give them work that interferes with their revising."
"Sure," said Daniel, "But I didn't say you had to give her work, just that you could say that you had given her enough to interfere with her sleeping in Scotland."
"Humph," said Harry, "I should probably discuss that with Lord Black as well. And … Oh damn it, I was supposed to send McGonagall my letter with all my headache-inducing changes to her plans for my life by last week."
"What sort of changes?" said Padma.
"Changes to electives? None this year. Private family quarters? (the other option to discuss with Lord Black). Do I want to be quidditch captain? Do I want to be Albus' assistant teaching Survey of Law?"
Daniel blinked, "you're on a first-name basis with the Headmaster?"
"I am," said Harry, "sort of."
Daniel and Freyazegen shuddered.
"Since when?" said Padma.
"Since we had a talk about … grieving for fallen comrades, among other things," said Harry.
"Oh," said Padma, "I guess the 'defeater of Grindelwald' and the 'defeater of Voldemort' might come to see each other as equals at some point."
Harry nodded, "Yeah, He's still Headmaster Dumbledore to me most of the time, and Chief Warlock at least once a month."
"Ah," said Padma.
"I can't imagine anyone I know turning down a chance to be quidditch captain," said Daniel.
"Right?" said Harry, "Doesn't make me want it, though. Just makes me feel insane for being so done with quidditch. Albus fed me a line about maybe I want to be a sideline coach instead of a traditional captain, and as captain, it would be my prerogative to choose who and how much reserves to have, and what the starting lineup is, including not putting myself in the starting lineup."
"Ah!" breathed Padma, "now I get it."
Harry nodded.
"You probably should," said Padma.
"It's a big time commitment," said Harry.
"And who gets it if you don't," said Padma.
"Katie Bell," said Harry.
"How confident are you that it wouldn't be McLaggen?"
"He doesn't have seniority."
"But does he stand out in some other way?"
"Ugh," said Harry, "Yeah, unfortunately: loud like Wood and Johnson. I'd like to see Katie have it, but I can see how Spinnet and McLaggen are louder."
"Can you be loud enough?" said Padma.
Harry shrugged, "I bet we can fix up something runic."
"Like what?"
"Wireless earrings," said Harry.
"Merlin," said Padma, "Hmm …" she leaned back. Harry estimated she'd be out of the conversation for twenty minutes at least. But almost immediately she said, "look up how the protean charm works, and whether it transfers energy for real, or just 'duplicates state' in the same sense as the twinning conjuration or whatever. If it does the former, whether it can transmit sound, and how to amplify it, and … if it does the latter, can you build a shape whose state does transfer sound via state change. A small drumhead might work. Seems doable."
"Wow," said Daniel.
"Send me notes Via Wotcher," said Harry.
"Timing?"
"Runes study group time or when I step into the library."
Padma snickered, "Sure."
"What?" said Daniel.
"You haven't noticed?" said Freyazegen.
"Noticed what?" said Daniel.
"Harry lets all his mages talk to the wards," said Freyazegen.
Daniel frowned, "What?"
"So far," said Harry, "It's limited to people who take care of plants. And it's limited to requesting information about those plants and asking for portkey transfer to their location. I planned to add animals, but haven't yet, there get to be obvious privacy issues at some point."
"And sending messages," said Padma.
"I didn't know about the portkey thing," said Freyazegen.
Daniel blinked at Harry, then focused on Freyazegen, "Yes, I see."
After a few seconds, for no reason that Harry could detect, Freyazegen flinched away from his gaze.
Oh, maybe that was them trying out gestalt mail.
.
"If you get a House or Family suite," said Padma, "Would that include Ginny and Luna, or also Parvati and I?"
"No point if it doesn't include Luna," said Harry, "That probably would mean demanding at least House level of inclusion, not sure how sticky they could / would make things about us wanting House of Black included in that."
"Would it include … Freyazegen?" said Daniel.
Freyazegen shivered, "or you could send me to City of London with Melantha?"
"That is an option," said Harry, "But I'm not going to push for it unless there seem to be no better alternatives, and/or I see things being mishandled sufficiently to take things into my own hands."
Freyazegen sat up and looked at him, "What do you want to happen?"
"I want Hogwarts to let me have whatever suite is big enough for me and my wives and their respective family heads. Do you feel yourself to be in danger in ravenclaw?"
Freyazegen shrugged, "I don't … err I haven't been … I think I can probably stay camouflaged as Ben," a shrug, "I don't have enough friends to worry about losing them by changing name and moving across the hall, or switching to London, but … the dorm groups of some years are worse to each other than other cohorts. To my knowledge, mine is fine. Yes, Luna's form is particularly horrible."
She hung her head, "if I did join a House of Potter suite … would I have my own room?"
"Ideally yes," said Harry, "I don't yet know what is available."
"Alright," she said.
"Would there be sex?" growled Daniel.
Harry shrugged, "not if she's actually eleven."
Freyazegen winced, "Twelve, about four-and-a-half years' difference from Ben's calendar age. Err, four and a third."
"Same difference," said Harry, "I'll be out of Hogwarts before she's welcome in my bed without her underwear. But in reality longer than that, because she would also have to convince my wives to invite her."
Daniel frowned, "how likely is that?"
Harry shrugged, "A lot can happen in five years, Right now, not likely."
"But you talk like it is a possibility," said Daniel.
"I have two wives, two consorts, and am consort to three other women," said Harry, "it is a possibility, but so far the only thing she's done to gain my respect is kept her grades unreasonably high under the circumstances, and shown remarkable emotional resilience, under the circumstances."
"Ah," said Daniel.
"Also, compared to the somewhat weird population of ravenclaw, she's polite about property rights," said Padma.
Daniel raised an eyebrow, "that's not much of a recommendation."
"No, but," Padma shrugged, "I'm just saying, she might already have Luna's vote."
Freyazegen shrugged.
Daniel frowned.
"Also," said Harry, "I was under the impression there was already a boy or two on Freyazegen's dance card, way ahead of me."
Daniel's eyes snapped around to his little sister.
Freyazegen shrugged, "More to the point," she said, "Did you mean to imply that with my underwear on … I might be welcome somewhere?"
Harry shrugged, "sister snuggles are sister snuggles, tell us when you need them."
Freyazegen whimpered something, then leaned hard against Harry's arm and took hold of his wrist and hand again.
Daniel's eyes went narrow, then his lips twitched and he stared away.
"Daniel, Do you want to say something?" said Padma.
"Boarding school would be a very different experience with a sibling or two along," said Daniel, "or less homesickness, whichever way you'd prefer to say that."
"It is," Padma agreed.
Daniel nodded, "Then, he'll go with you, no question." A glance, "She, I mean."
Freyazegen squeezed Harry's hand, and whispered, "I'll go where I'm told."
"Of course you will," said Harry, and squeezed back.
Freyazegen relaxed and leaned back.
.
There were footsteps, and Freyazegen's parents emerged from the house.
"Alright," said Mrs. Windrow, "So the curse is permanent?"
"Of course not," said Harry, "that wouldn't be legal until she's an adult, and had sufficient experience with said choice to choose for herself."
"What counts as 'sufficient'?" said Mrs. Windrow.
"Minimum three months," said Harry, "preferably a year."
"Alright," growled Mrs. Windrow, "how is it removed?"
Harry looked her in the eye, "You have to accept that it is Freyazegen's choice."
"But?"
Padma tensed.
"You have to accept that it is Freyazegen's choice."
"So when I accept that? …"
"Then it will be Freyazegen's choice."
"That's circular," said Mrs. Windrow.
Harry shrugged.
"And if I never accept that?" said Mrs. Windrow.
Harry frowned, "Then it will turn out to have been permanent."
She grunted and pursed her lips.
"You cannot make this choice for her," said Harry, "and I will not make this choice for her any farther than I did by offering her the runic pendant."
"But you could!"
"Not right now I can't," said Harry, "All I have done is give her a runic pendant, and all I will do further than that is advise her that it is not muggle safe when it is not being worn, and she should be careful to plan ahead about it."
He turned to Freyazegen, "or did you already figure that out for yourself?"
Freyazegen shrugged, "Doesn't seem like it matters anymore."
"Someday, it will matter again," said Harry, "The box I gave it to you in will only open for a mage. But you might want to consider something sturdier and more secure to keep it in when you're not wearing it."
"Why would I want to take it off?"
Harry shrugged.
"How do I take it off?"
Harry shrugged, "After the conditions are met, you can take it off like any other necklace."
"What conditions are those?" said Mr. Windrow.
"The person wearing it must be the one to remove it, and must be awake, sober, not under compulsion, confundus, or imperious. And her mother must accept her as she is."
Mrs. Windrow growled and returned inside.
Daniel stared at him with a peculiar, calculating smile.
Freyazegen trembled and snuggled closer.
"Humph," said Mr. Windrow and looked after his wife.
"Freyazegen," said Harry, "if you ever feel unsafe, you're always welcome at the Manor for a meal or two or a night or two, there are plenty of bedrooms."
"Oh," said Freyazegen, "Um, thanks?"
"But right now," said Harry, "I think the best thing would be for you to go hug your mother."
She flinched, then nodded and went inside.
Daniel and Mr. Windrow stared at Harry.
"What gives you the right?" said Mr. Windrow, "It doesn't seem to me the sort of issue to warrant House interference with Family policy."
"I thought I answered that already also," said Harry, "I've been studying transgenderism since I was eight, mostly the related aspect of psychology and law, also I had enough of that magic available, that Freyazegen noticed and asked me for a boon. I granted … as much of that as I felt was warranted given her age and confidence level."
"Damn!" said Daniel, and stood up, after several seconds saying nothing else, he said, "I'll be … in my room," he went inside.
Padma squeezed Harry's hand, "Should we be going soon?"
"Hmm," said Harry, "soon yes," He stood up and held out his hand, "Mr. Windrow, thank you for your years of service. If you or your family have any more boons to ask, let me know. I've only recently passed my OWLs, but I'll help if I can."
"Ah, but …" said Mr. Windrow, then took Harry's hand, but did not shake, "How much was the necklace?"
"About thirty-six hours, plus materials," said Harry, "plus however much my research partners studied that they didn't tell me about."
"A hundred pounds," said Mr. Windrow, and finished the handshake, "probably more for anyone able to craft anything as intricate as you've described."
Harry nodded, "call it two hundred, and less than a quarter of that is materials."
Mr. Windrow shuddered, and crossed his arms, "and you made it and gave it to my son on a whim."
"It wasn't on a whim," said Harry, "a whim that unusual, at that age, is so embarrassing you never speak aloud, or only to very close friends and/or while drunk, and forget about within a couple of hours, not struggle for ten minutes, manufacture an excuse to only need to say it to one person, start to beg and cry for most of a minute before you steel your nerves enough that you can speak it aloud."
Mr. Windrow gave him an odd expression.
"Have you ever considered Freyazegen, 'excitable,' or easily taken by flights of fancy?"
"He's an artist, so yes," said Mr. Windrow then narrowed his eyes, and rubbed his temple, "Ah, I see, perhaps not."
"Or prone to lying or make-believe?"
"Not exactly, I mean sure he had the standard phases of realising that lying is possible and had to calibrate the credulity of his family members, but we all do that. Then he settled down to, shall we say, a baseline level … of below average tolerance for falsehood." A proud smile, "Got that from both his parents."
"An accountant and a scientist," said Harry.
Mr. Windrow winced at that assessment.
I'm muggle raised, Mr. Windrow, thought Harry, 'science' isn't a bad word to me.
"Then I suggest," said Harry, "That Freyazegen asked for this, not on a whim, not in a 'flight of fancy,' away from reality, but from a desire to reconcile or integrate some underlying truth that she had no other means to express."
"Hmm," said Mr. Windrow.
"I'm not a hundred per cent certain that femaleness was her point, and not some other aspect of development, perhaps that she's lagging or ahead of her peers in some aspect of maturity, which she or they are momentarily convinced is important, or rebellion against male gender roles, perhaps specifically muggle male gender roles."
"Huh?"
"She asked me for this on the train, first she requested, 'permanent.' But after I said, 'not permanent until I'm sure you're sure,' she requested 'for the summer,' it might be a physical dysphoria about her shape that she can ignore as often as her clothes let her, or it might just be the muggle presentation of machismo that she objects to being expected to compete with."
Mr. Windrow snorted, "Rather sensible of him, the world doesn't need more soldiers, lots of attitudes and adjustments that are sensible in battle or on campaign are terrible adaptions to everyday life."
Harry nodded.
Mr. Windrow gave him an assessing look, "You don't have a problem with that assessment?"
I'm in cargo jeans and the denim jacket I cut off for Nim to ride on, and Padma is wearing her salvaged Greek-style dragon-hide duelling skirt. But I think mainly from a desire to wear something breezy and not significantly longer than her underthing. We each chose for practicality and comfort, but, we also each look like a different culture's version of badass. Except we're both in sandals instead of the kind of combat boots that would match each of our outfits.
"I don't have a problem with it," said Harry, "I find it refreshing. I have adopted some of the patterns, not to posture, and not that I approve of the motif, or consider them all sensible in everyday life, but to give fair warning, that I am dangerous. That I can, and will, and have, killed to protect my Family, House, and Nation. As has Padma."
Padma squeezed his hand. There were fingernails in it, so probably a rebuke, not thanks.
Mr. Windrow nodded, and swallowed, "And we're thankful for your service."
Harry shrugged, "Not welcome, per se, but I'll do it again if I have to."
Mr. Windrow snorted, and nodded, "I'm relieved to hear that you're 'a farmer willing to fight,' and not 'an out-of-work mercenary,' loose in my neighbourhood."
"Definitely," said Harry.
Padma nodded also.
Mr. Windrow sighed, "So … I'm hearing you recommend I should be concentrating on deprogramming him about the need of, or desirability of, machismo the culture has cursed him with, not lobbying him about the gender specifically?"
"Yes," said Harry, "and not just machismo, also violence, and council her on not just the age and gender stereotypes regarding sexual activity, but the activity itself."
"So ethics and prudence in general," said Mr. Windrow, "and the discrepancy between them and the risks that his peers might be taking, or might be posturing about taking, while actually risking less than they might claim."
Harry nodded.
"Alright," said Mr. Windrow, "I'll take that under advisement."
A few seconds of silence.
Harry had just made up his mind that maybe it was time to go when Mr. Windrow opened his mouth, "And you don't think that it wasn't just an artist's desire to portray the object of desire more directly than on paper."
"No," said Harry, "Yes, when I first noticed that such a charm could be applied to myself, I considered its use as a disguise, a way to imitate and annoy friends, and a way to become or portray an object of desire, specifically my own desires. But Freyazegen didn't ask me to make her into 'a pretty girl' she asked me to make her into 'any believable sister of Ben and Daniel.' She wasn't trying to become that which she desired but couldn't have, but into that which she already perceived herself to be but could not express, or had felt not allowed to express."
"Ah!" said Mr. Windrow, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.
Oh, that wasn't his othering pose, that was his requesting privacy to think pose.
.
...-...
{End chapter 1}
[A/N: There are certainly hints in the vocabulary that Harry is using. That most of the literature he's seen is based on old and flawed studies from before the moratorium on publishing information about transgender medical care where minors might gain access to it. Luckily that law has now been repealed.
Someone else's research and rant much better presented than I could hope to achieve: v=v1eWIshUzr8
Thanks everyone for research help.
]
