Chapter 2 Making New Friends
A/N: Thanks to my wonderful Beta, LtsHrIt4ThBoyz.
**OO**
Christmas 2014, Potter Home, Wales
Luna Lovegood, still working as a magizoologist for the Order, and as a part-time journalist, made sure that the fresh dictaquill was linked properly to the ink pots. The first story had nearly run out before Sir Rigel had finished his tale!
Sirius' youngest crawled and plopped on the former Regulus Black's foot then held up his arms in a demand to be picked up by 'grandpa'.
The silver-grey eyes, black-as-night hair, Regulus might be looking at his own son rather than nephew. The baby grabbed for a button on his dress robes, then, dissatisfied with that level of scientific information forthcoming, used a different method to collect data.
Antares dived on said button with his mouth!
Hoping to prevent problems, the man got up to change to a simpler tunic. He would not risk this child choking on something, and passed the boy back to his father. Patting the former Brother Paddy's arm on his way.
Antares patted both of his father's cheeks, and when Rigel returned it was to the sound of a baby's laughter. Surely the ambrosia of angels was generated as Sirius buzzed the boy's tummy. The other's looking on in amusement. And love.
This get-together was going to document their family story. And get some of the inside information that Luna had always wanted to know. After all, she had been poisoned and out of it for a time.
Luna's own silver-gaze focused on a trio of friends; friends who had stayed close with bonds forged in facing death, danger, and facing Evil together.
"How did you all meet? And when did you start to become friends?" Luna asked innocently.
**OO**
Ecole Merlin Lower School, Rome, Italy
May 1988
"Excuse me, are you an angel?" The smaller boy asked, while the taller blonde one nodded in agreement.
The medieval priory connected to the cloister through a series of public rooms, private sitting areas with cozy fireplaces and small bookcases. Though made of stone, ancient runes carved into the very stones of the buildings kept the castle at a moderate temperature year round. Portraits of knights long gone decorated the corridors and rooms. Framed pictures of the bravest of non-military men and women were also scattered around. Their brief history of how they won their Order of Merlin award, and other victories were also done on small plaques underneath their pictures.
Most were magical paintings that young squires could talk with. The people still living had photographs: nice photographs of course, but they would be swapped out with the now sleeping portraits once the person had moved to Heaven.
Albus Dumbledore had his own framed photo, with not one, but two plaques. A third one for his more recent titles had been delayed. It was decided to wait another fifty or so years. Maybe once the Defeater-of-Grindelwald-turned-statesmen was safely dead, they could finish it all at once!
Classes and practice rooms were in the tall tower whose top floor had a private dining area for the knights. The view from there was magnificent they were told.
The practice fields contained areas for single and team dueling, target practices of all sorts of modern and ancient warfare, large pits for battle magics, and a separate area for flight attack targets.
There was a small enclosed colosseum that could be used for a variety of events. It was much larger on the inside and had its own unique infrastructure. It was used to train the upper cohort prior to those knights going into the field.
There was a powerful timing device that could allow years of training to happen in weeks when needed. And since the world thrived on emergencies, it was used on a far-too-regular basis. High command kept trying to get away from using it. Plans were to stop sometime soon.
The stables were well maintained, and while the complex had a variety of helpers including house-elves, the building was a common place for misbehaving students to serve detention.
The central meeting place was the Great Hall. Located on the main floor and centered in the complex, the room was usually set up with long tables and benches. Ancient and modern battles were captured in stained glass, the abbreviated histories of those battles in small plaques under the windows. The high table was where the professors and teaching knights took their meals. There was a magnificent chair in the center of said table where the Knight Commander sat. Knighting ceremonies were held in the hall. For the times when a visiting royal was present, that chair would be further enhanced to be more ornate for those events.
Knights, squires, Masters, apprentices and support people of all ages could be seen studying in the hall at all hours, or taking in a snack. Meals were served at set times, but there was a small table fully stocked of healthy treats that were continuously available.
This was the core of the Order, and on a Sunday afternoon, the hall would swell to include many of the world's active knights if they were available. They would attend High Mass in the chapel, and then enjoy a peaceful meal with their fellow knights and their squires.
It was to this complex that a trio of young people were taken. What was unusual about these children is that only one was an unwanted orphan, and all had resources available to them. Most foundlings and orphans came to them with only the clothes on their backs, and sometimes not even that.
"Are you going to make fun of my hair, too?" Hermione asked. Her Italian had hardly any English accent, but just enough Oxford for both of the boys to switch to English.
"Never!" They said together.
"I'm Harry Potter, and this is my brother Neville Longbottom. Well, my godbrother, but it's practically the same thing."
Hermione looked at them both through narrowed eyes.
"You don't seem to be laughing. I put the last trio of boys to laugh at me in the hospital!" Hermione was in a foul mood, and these two had perfect timing to be targets. "And I lost my advanced placement at school! And it's on my permanent record!"
She sniffed back tears. Hermione always cried when she was angry, and didn't want to do so in front of anyone!
Both boys had only an inkling of what she was saying, but if she was here, then that meant only one thing to do! Welcome her!
"I'm sorry those boys were mean to you. Can we please know your name, you know, since we are going to be going to school together. We can be friends!" Harry stated.
Neville had retreated more into his shell after his great-uncle's most recent attack on him. But Harry had blossomed in the week away from his aunt. But as shy as Neville was, he could feel her magic, and it was so amazing!
If he had shared that feeling, that he could feel the warmth and power of her magic, then anyone could have told him that meant that he too was magical. But Neville just nodded at what Harry was saying, and tried to look as non-threatening as possible.
Neville didn't like bullies any more than Harry did.
"I suppose. I'm Hermione Granger. I never heard of magic until a few days ago."
"Same here. I mean, I just learned a short time ago. I can't wait to learn more about it though! It will explain all of the odd things that happen around me." Harry stated.
"Um, I grew up around magic, but haven't done any yet. That's why I'm here. I'm useless." Neville shared.
This last was said with such deep sadness that Hermione lost all of her anger and resentment.
"No! Of course not!" And then she hugged him!
Harry had seen a lot in his life. Watching Dudley chowing down on a huge dinner while Harry felt his empty stomach rumbling. Eyeing Dudley, opening a pile of presents, and denying Harry the broken red car that had been binned. His aunt hugging and kissing his cousin, all the while the both of them called him names.
But Harry had had something happen when Hermione walked up, and he knew that she was someone special. Her magic called to him, and his magic called to her.
And she chose someone else to love.
Now, Harry was only seven, not quite eight, as was Neville, but his little seven-year-old heart broke right then. Not that he showed it.
Crying was not allowed, or screaming, or whinging. All against the rules. So Harry stood there, stoically, and then the most amazing thing happened.
Hermione hugged Harry too!
She had comforted Neville, until he pulled away, embarrassed, so she embraced Harry, and murmured into his shoulder how she was glad that they would be friends.
Harry's spirits soared!
And so on that day, a new trio of friends was born, inseparable. Well, inseparable until a certain British politico interfered. But that was not this day.
This day was one of new beginnings for all three, and the start along their path.
Their path to Destiny.
**OO**
When the wards fell at Privet Drive, Dumbledore tried to floo Arabella Figg, but the connection was closed.
He then flooed Professor Snape, who wasn't in his office as he was teaching.
Summoning his spy, Dumbledore cast spells on his devices. Not good.
"Headmaster, the elf said you had an emergency? I left a pair of prefects in charge of the first years."
"Good, Severus. The wards on the house where Harry Potter lives have fallen. Please, tell me. Has Lucius been more active of late, trying to find the lad? Any rumors, news?" Dumbledore queried.
Severus Snape was actually concerned, "If the wards fell, shouldn't we be calling the aurors? What if they are attacked?"
"The Dursleys? I suppose that is a possibility, but Harry Potter isn't there."
Snape pinched his nose. Very few magicals cared about the safety of muggles, but even though he despised Petunia Evans from their childhood, he would still fight to protect her, if only because she was Lily's sister, Lily's blood.
"Harry Potter is alive, but far away. And until letters are addressed I won't be able to find him!" The great wizard concluded.
"Is it possible that the family just moved? People get new jobs. Jobs far away from here," the former Death Eater stated longingly.
"Your contract ends if Harry Potter does not get his letter or after he finishes his NEWTs. Since he did accidental magic and summoned a storybook in front of me as a babe, I'm sure that he is magical. That was the agreement for you in avoiding Azkaban." The Headmaster chided gently.
"I wonder if trying to teach dementors how to brew potions would be more difficult than hard-headed, hormonal, distracted, dunderheaded, disruptive teenagers?" Snape pondered aloud.
"Likely not, but think of the rewards of molding the next generation!" Dumbledore encouraged.
Severus pictured a potion that would cause mold to grow on all of the students. Color-coordinated to their House, of course. Likely, not what the man meant.
"Shall I go? See what I can find?" Snape offered. Anything to get away from the castle for a few hours during the school year.
"Yes, my boy. You do that, and I'll get someone to cover your classes."
"You did study advanced alchemy sir. You could teach for a day."
"Yes, yes. Very well. Off you go. Send a Patronus if you need help! Here's a portkey to a nearby neighbor. She's out, or I could let you floo. You can floo back if you wish." The older man magnanimously offered.
Severus grumbled under his breath about dotty old men. After all, there was a reason that the Dark Lord feared this man, and Snape was no fool.
Dumbledore would not be happy to find out that the family had moved, no suspicious people lurking about there recently. A limousine had been noticed. Obviously, that was the job offer for Vernon. Sales manager, promotion to Argentina, or so they had heard.
If the boy was in Argentina, the headmaster would have to hand-deliver his letter. Snape thought that Potter could move to the moon and still have the Headmaster after him, but he would not let that thought show.
The Dark Lord and Light Lord were two sides of a coin. Both wanted to rule Britain in their way. One believed in killing anything that disagreed with him or didn't have magic, the other believed killing to be always wrong, no matter how many lives were lost with that… 'morality'. Moronity, more like!
If someone gave Snape truth serum, when he hadn't recently ingested the antidote, and asked him where his loyalties really were, the answer would surprise many.
Lily Evans. That was the reason he lived and served. If her son should die in the conflict then he would be released from that service. Same too if he himself were killed. Severus had killed and would gladly kill again if it would bring her back, or protect her only child. The first was possible but not: lots of rituals and rites to bring back the dead. But it required resources, and access to texts he didn't even know where to start looking. One of the reasons that his bonds chaffed so much. He wanted to be inventing potions, accumulating those resources so that he could at least try to restore her. Dumbledore was convinced that the Dark Lord wasn't fully dead and would return. If the ritual required the death of others, Snape would be happy to sacrifice several of his not-former-enough colleagues in the bone-mask club.
The second, having to kill to protect the Potter boy, was all too likely, even with Dumbledore's unreasonable mandates. He would be forced into situations where he would have to take a life. Again.
It was the only thing that he and Mad-Eye Moody had ever agreed upon.
And now, to Diagon Alley. Might as well do a little shopping. Dinner was being served soon to his little snakes. He had no patrols to run afterwards, so this was just a chance to enjoy, savor a few teenager-free moments alone.
Always alone.
**OO**
"How are you feeling now?" Charles asked, watching the boy working on his maths.
The knight shuddered. He disliked arithmancy intensely. Oh, he could do it well enough to keep himself alive in the field, but it was runes, languages, and magical creatures that were his specialties.
"Hey! You're the man who rescued me from my cupboard! I never got a chance to thank you. So, um, thank you, Sir Knight. I'm Harry Potter."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter. I'm Charles Hector. I did visit you at Saint Michael's but you were still out from your surgery. I hope that you are well now."
"You're Sir Hector! I've heard stories about you! You helped take down a chimera!" Harry's eyes gleamed.
"Indeed." Charles shuddered in unpleasant memories of death, and blood, and loss of innocent life. But it could have been much, much worse. Such a pleasant magical village too.
"Please, sir knight. I haven't had the chance to ask. Why is the Knight Commander Sir Romano, but you are Sir Hector? Some seem to use their last name, others their first."
"You choose your name after the trials and just before the ceremony. There were three other Charleses in my cohort. No others had the last name Hector, so I chose that."
"That makes sense. Monsignor Brown said that you might mentor me?"
"Indeed. There will be four of you in your cohort. I will be mentoring you, Neville and Miss Granger. You are all British, and near the same age. I will be speaking to each of you individually about this. You understand how classes here work now, and Miss Granger will indeed thrive in this environment. You too, are driven to succeed.
"Sir Jerome is mentoring his little brother, Joseph. They're French, but speak Italian as well. He will be joining you in your lessons and training. There will be others likely joining as well, but you four will be the start of your cohort.
"Have you been told how this works? That you become apprentices until you are ten. Then, if you are still interested in becoming a knight, you apply to be a squire. If we work well together, mentors often take their students as squires. But let's say Hermione and Neville aren't interested, or Neville doesn't have magic. Then they would still stay here and learn, but still, be apprentices. We know that Hermione is magical, and she says that she will study to be a knight. She of course would have to be paired with one of the Dames of the Order. I have not talked to Neville about it. But it's a moot point until he expresses magic."
"I'll help Neville. He's with the arithmancy teacher right now. I don't think that he's had much maths beyond counting and some simple adding and subtracting. He didn't know how to multiply or divide yet!" Harry shared, thriving in an environment where he was encouraged to go at his own pace, but make progress. No more holding back! Never again!
"Good. You know how this works. We help each other, call on each other. No one here is alone. The Cavaliers in France had a saying 'All for one, and one for all'. We have a different saying. Simul nous fortior. Go to the library and look it up sometime. I expect to hear what that means when I see you next." Sir Hector commanded.
"You mean, I can use the library too? It's not just for the knights?" Harry's eyes were full of wonder.
"The library in this building is for you as well. The knights mostly use it because it's convenient, and they know where things are. Many have their own personal libraries of essential books. When you get kitted out, you get the start of one yourself."
Sir Hector explained that most of the teaching of the Upper school was done in time compression, and then knights were off to the field on missions. There was no separate physical building for the upper school other than the use of the colosseum. Anyone not taking vows was taught at the Lower school. All of it being called Ecole Merlin.
"So there are people, maybe like Neville, who grow things and help around here, who don't have magic, but stay here. Serve the knights?"
"Yes indeed, young Harry." Sir Hector confirmed.
"I want to be a knight, and rescue people from horrible monsters!" Harry stated.
"Like chimeras?" The knight asked.
"Like Dudley!" Harry pronounced, quite sure that his cousin was worse than any magical creature.
**OO**
"And the curse on the future queen of England was ended with True Love's kiss. And they all lived happily ever after."
"Another! Sleeping Beauty!"
The little orphans had so few treats, and the request for one more story was an easy one to give.
"...And they all lived happily ever after. The end". Sister Gisele said. This time ignoring the calls for one more tale. "Good night, boys. Sleep sweet."
The rocking chair she was sitting on moved itself back to the corner. The boys were already snuggled in their beds.
"Sister Gisele, do you think that she was potioned? The princess that was asleep?" Neville asked.
"Quite likely. It was a terrible curse, you know. Without the other fairies' help, the poor girl could have woken up with her family long dead, and she would have been alone with no one that she knew or loved around."
"Well, at least she would have you, Sister G." One of the other boys claimed.
The aged sister, long retired from fighting, but still helped by nurturing the young ones. She was the administrator's secretary by title, but acted as his deputy at times. Always a bit gruff with the children, especially caustic with errant knights, she kept them all in line.
"Yeah. You're hundreds of years old. At least she'd have you!" The boy teased and yelped at her light stinger. "Hey!"
"I'm not hundreds of years old, my boy. Thousands. Get it right next time!"
She threw her head into the air and sniffed, leaving a room full of laughing, happy foundlings and orphans who indeed had found a family there.
**OO**
A few weeks after the wards fell at Privet Drive, there was something very unusual at the following Wizengamot meeting.
Ambassador Umbridge was back from Argentina. Dolores had once delighted in killing muggles from time to time (and muggleborns secretly). She had escaped a sentence to Azkaban due to Lucius Malfoy testifying for her. But while he was her alibi, she was his, so used that to get in with his friend Fudge, and slime her way into political power.
Dolores was ambassador-at-large, sent to places where her talents were needed. Miss Umbridge loved the prestige, and enjoyed the going back and forth. She didn't mind being sent to Azkaban for errands for Cornelius at all! She had managed the dementors for the Dark Lord as they didn't affect her, and had no problem going there when the minister needed her to.
There were a few death notices from Azkaban that Dolores Umbridge cheerfully delivered. Sirius Black, and all of the Lestranges were no more. Some sort of plague had done them in, Bellatrix lasting the longest, but all had succumbed. No healing was allowed to prisoners sentenced to life there. All bodies burned in place to prevent the spread of disease.
A goblin in the chambers was not uncommon with the death of a Lord or Heir. The bank had magics that could find even Mad-eye Moody if they had need. They would just never disclose it to anyone else, certainly no wizard!
The Gringotts representative was on the agenda. When it came time, the being didn't speak, just handed over two letters.
One was from the current Lord Black, stating his sorrow at the deaths in the family. He upheld the new Heir's right to vote the seat, and confirmed that said heir did inherit the personal properties from his godfather Sirius Black. The Lestrange holdings had been rolled into the Black vaults, with a few personal bequests already handled. The signature and ring seal were verified, it was Lord Black.
Murmuring went through the gallery, wondering who this godson and new heir was?
Dumbledore's reaction was faster than others, and tried to stop the reading of the second letter. But he was waved down. Pale, the man waited for the axe to fall.
The second letter was very simple.
'Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I just found out that my godfather died. I didn't even know I had one, so it's hard to feel sad for someone I didn't know, but I will try. I asked the little man who came if that meant I had a godmother. My aunt doesn't like me reading stories that mention fairies or magic, and sends me to my cupboard without food when she catches me. Of course, magic isn't real, but I do have a godmother. The little man said she was sick, but that her mother-in-law was alive and well. I ask her to vote for me. I don't understand this voting thing, but I guess I will learn more about it. The little man said that Dumbldor was voting for me, and while he meant well, I don't want to give him another vote as he left me with my aunt. And she really doesn't like me. He says that I will learn more when I am eleven, and get my letter to Hogwarts to learn magic. I didn't mean to laugh at him, and did apologize, but for an adult, even a short one to believe in such nonsense seems silly to me. I can't wait to meet my godmother, and I hope she gets better soon. I'm sorry that she is sick.
Sincerely, Harry Potter.'
That caused quite the disruption and calls for Dumbledore's head on a pike!
Lucius Malfoy had been allowed to vote for the absent Lord Black, as he had claimed his son was heir after Sirius Black died, and the current Lord Black had never visited or claimed any illegitimate child as heir. He was not married, so couldn't have legitimate children.
Lucius Malfoy stood, and walked away from the Black seat in the chamber, head high in the air, but scowling. He debated for a moment about taking a seat in the Lestrange chair, whose vote he currently held. However, he knew if the Lestrange wizards were dead, then it too would be taken away. Best just to head to the gallery.
Amelia Bones authenticated Harry Potter's letter. With the vote going to either Augusta Longbottom or Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore accepted defeat with some grace. She was clearly the better choice and the formidable woman grinned most viciously.
Between her and her hat, Regent Longbottom looked ready to eat them all, carrion and living. Although, with some of the old fossils still on the Wizengamot, one could understand. Didn't Lord Rosier fight with Napoleon's wizards?
The old woman stood. "With the death of Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, I declare that family line Extinct!" the woman intoned with such ferocity she scared one poor man near her into fainting.
Lucius tried to make a motion that his wife was sister to Bellatrix, and therefore could vote the Lestrange seat. Neither of them had close enough blood ties to that family to claim the seat.
An ancient device was activated, and no close blood relatives were indicated. The chair sank sadly into the floor. Another of the Sacred Twenty-Eight forever gone.
Cornelius Fudge stood, "For Outstanding Philanthropy and willingness to serve the public good, Lucius Malfoy will be assigned one of the seats-at-large."
Lucius nodded to his friend, and made his way to the lowest tier. Still, it was better than no seat at all, and he didn't even have to front the coin for it!
Dumbledore groaned, and knew that things were going to be far more difficult now, more than ever. He had hoped, for just a moment, that Malfoy had lost all of his political power in the Wizengamot. But no. Now, people would be remembering young Harry's letter and asking questions he didn't want to answer. He still hadn't confided in anyone that Harry Potter was missing, and now Augusta would want to meet him!
Impossible! Where was that headache potion he kept here for emergencies?
**OO**
Back at school, Rigel visited his brother's godson regularly. He also took a particular delight in helping a new recruit to full health, and spent time dueling with Padfoot. The new adept's real name never to be mentioned in public, for both of their sakes.
As soon as he was at full health, the school administrator had plans that would keep the man safe. But in the meantime, it would just take time for Brother Paddy to recover fully.
Monsignor Brown couldn't wait to introduce his brother to his godson!
**OO**
Narcissa Malfoy was incensed that her sister had likely been killed in prison and nothing was done about it!
The Black family was now her and Draco. She would never accept the half-blood Harry Potter as Head of House. All of that gold! And her sister's wealth had been folded back into the Black vaults as she had borne no child.
She looked at Bella's favorite necklace, goblin made, taken by an elf from the Lestrange vault as it had been willed to Narcissa. She put it on, swearing to find out who killed her sister and exacting revenge. If only her Master had come back as he had planned! Then Bellatrix would still be alive! And the loss of the gold hurt as well. If Bella had only known her situation, Narcissa knew her sister would have helped!
The Malfoys weren't as wealthy as everyone thought, and she had to come up with alternative revenue streams. Narcissa would never sell this priceless article though. Nor wear it into the bank, for they would take it by the easiest way possible.
Which would be to remove her head and remove said necklace from her cooling body.
Thinking of the greedy goblins, she reviewed the recently received flier. Gringotts was requesting items for the upcoming sales event. Yes, people would come from all over the world for the grand auction.
Malfoy Manor was full of useless books, long-dead ancestors nobody wanted to talk to, and discarded nicknacks. While the goblins kept a percentage, they were discrete, and the gold was deposited that day to the designated vault.
Here, this one was perfect! An out-of-date potions book. Ancient appearance. She put that in the weightless bag that she was sending to Gringotts.
Unnoticed, a little brown diary, with the initials 'T.M.' and the last name of 'Riddle' was stuck inside that old potions text. Rare, full of dark potions that were illegal to make in Britain. The book was not illegal to own here though or sell. It would be valuable enough to raise quite a bit of gold.
Besides, if she wanted to use such a book, she would have to get a better copy. This one was full of scribblings and notes and such!
She sent a copy of the flier anonymously to Professor Slughorn, Severus Snape, and Healer Flint letting them know that there were some interesting books coming available at the next auction.
The lady of the house gladly sent the Potions' reference to be sold, not noticing that her Master's diary went with it. Carefully and magically stuck next to a very dark potion and ritual.
**OO**
Sister Gisele put down the magical tapestry loom that she had been showing the girls how to use. The lesson had just finished, and she dismissed everyone, but the English girl stayed behind.
"Why aren't the boys learning this as well?" Hermione demanded.
"Miss Granger, while there are female knights, they make up only eighteen percent of the fighting force. However, most of the support staff, instructors of the non-military arts, and so forth are women. I'm not going to stop a boy from being in this class, but neither is it a requirement. Aren't you here because you were interested?"
"Yes, I did sign up. But I think that the boys should at least learn how to sew on a button!" Hermione opined.
"One has to have magic for this class. I wouldn't want to hurt your friend Neville's feelings by asking all of the boys that have expressed, and then leaving him out? Wouldn't that make him feel bad? The magic is in the game he is playing now. Your parents could play it."
"I suppose."
The sister looked at the girl, and thought she saw the problem. She was feeling lonely!
"Miss Granger, do you see this thread? What if it broke at a bad time? What could I do about it, do you think?"
**OO**
Harry looked up from the battle simulation that he and Neville were working on. Oh sure, the teachers made it into a game, but there were points won and lost for everything.
At their level, they didn't have to worry too much about weather and resources, just troop movements, cover, terrain, innocents, and a few magical animals tossed in.
Monsignor Brown coming in to be with the younger students was uncommon enough that everyone straightened up.
"Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom. I want you to meet Brother Paddy."
Three weeks had helped, but the man was still skeletally thin from Azkaban.
"Hello, boys. I knew your parents. Good people, proud to have fought with them. It's an honor to meet you."
Harry squinted at him. Ever since the healers removed the bit of Voldemort from his head, he could see just fine. He just couldn't talk to snakes anymore. But seeing how that was viewed as evil, Harry was fine with it.
"Have we met before? Your magic? I mean, you seem familiar somehow."
The man quickly turned into a large, far-too-skinny Grim.
"Wow! You're one too!" Harry said, but he couldn't help it. Laughing, he reached out and patted the dog, and hugged him. Harry smiled brightly and laughed. The wizard then turned back, holding the boy close.
"Wait, what? You're too young! You have an animagus form?" Brother Paddy inquired, setting him down. Reluctantly.
"Don't you mean forms?" Neville asked.
Harry turned into a corbie, a wolf pup, and a spindly-legged fawn in quick succession.
The last brought tears to the man's eyes.
"Oh, pup! That was wonderful! But how?"
"I believe it is called magic, Brother Paddy." Harry intoned pompously, but with a smile. "Wanna play this cool game with us?"
"Yes, Harry, I believe I do."
**OO**
Sister Gisele stormed into the administrator's office without knocking. Again.
"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded.
"It's just some correspondence that I have asked you to prepare and I will sign." Monsignor Brown tried to defend.
"And I'll be in here so many times to ask questions since I don't know what's going on that it will take far longer than if you just took care of it yourself! We have had this discussion before! Don't annoy me with this sort of nonsense, again, or you won't like the consequences!"
She stood there, steaming at him for a moment, and then turned and stalked away, leaving said letters on his desk.
Reaching into a drawer, the Monsignor took a headache draught. He sometimes wished he didn't have a battle-honed secretary, but she really was right. There was a lot of information that was not clear and would require hours of research. He then remembered a bright squire with good research techniques. Sending for the girl and her mentor, he tried to focus his tired eyes on the next task.
He needed to get some good sleep soon. He was seriously lacking quality shut-eye.
The sister was back with another complaint. People didn't call her 'Sister Sourpuss' behind her back because of her sweetness and light.
His 'Cousin Rigel' persona with the staff worked most of the time to bring harmony. But it didn't work against this battleaxe!
**OO**
In addition to normal classes, Monsignor Brown encouraged the younger children to learn and memorize several sets of runes. The early work laid a foundation for when they could take the magical class. Sir Jerome was brilliant at them, and had helped Joseph and Hermione make flashcards to aid their memorization.
The students quizzed each other at random times, more often with her prompting.
The trio had bonded over their shared heritage, not that they weren't friendly with the other students there. Joseph was in their cohort after all, and the boy with the French last name but Italian accent was quiet but kind. They always included him.
One day, Sir Hector had just left with Harry and Joseph to go riding again, but neither Hermione nor Neville liked flying so they stayed in.
After a few hours of quiet reading and studying for magical theory and basic arithmancy, Hermione moved on to runes. The Granger girl had particularly bad timing with her drive to get them to achieve this day.
Neville had visited his parents that morning and was feeling very odd about it all. He loved his gran, in a way, but never wanted to live with her again. And while he loved his parents, it was difficult seeing them so, so...lost. Broken.
It made him feel quite alone, and wishing for a family of his own. As bad as they were, wouldn't muggle parents be better than none? Look at Hermione.
Hermione's parents sold everything but the house they owned, and moved to Italy somewhere close by. A mixed village that was open about magic. Just to get away from the muggleborn prejudice of Britain and live near their daughter's school. Hermione went home to sleep each night and be with her family. Neville shuddered. Okay, the whole muggle thing was odd, but still.
Of course, Hermine just had to quiz him on Norse runes. Boring! He had a new herbology text and it was far better than any rune.
"Neville, what's this?" Hermione demanded.
"Not now, Hermione," Neville said sharply, without even a please, waving her away.
"Manners! Go on! Just a few, and then we will head to dinner. Oven-roasted chicken, and some kind of interesting pasta."
"There's a surprise! Leave off, Hermione. I just want to be alone. Please!"
"Just one then!" The girl pushed.
Neville reached up and took the card, beyond frustrated. The rune started to glow with power, and Hermione had the presence of mind to take it quickly from his hand and throw it out the nearby open window. About the third level down, there was a loud boom.
"What in the world?" "What was that?" "Who set off the bomb?"
Hermione looked at Neville in wonder then pounced on him. "I knew it! I knew you were a wizard! I could feel your magic! Oh, Neville!"
Neville swung her around in glee, practically dancing with the girl.
Harry came into this wondrous scene, and carefully took a step back, but Neville saw him.
"Harry!"
"Sir Hector wanted me to ask if you heard a loud noise. But I should get to dinner…"
"No, Harry! It was Neville! He charged the rune! And it exploded!" Hermione informed him.
"Wow! That's great! You have magic! That's awesome Neville!" Harry grabbed him in a Granger-like hug.
"If you could figure out a time delay, it wouldn't even scan as magic, would it? Something we need to consider carefully with the mail?" Harry was pondering again.
Harry took to magic like a duck to water. And military strategy as well. His father, James, had been an enchanter. Brother Paddy, who had known James Potter, gave Harry some magic mirrors recently, and talked about the limitations of only two being connected. How after a few hundred miles, they wouldn't work. Hogwarts to London was stretching it, which made them useless in the field.
Harry had taken three days of looking at notes and diagrams, asking questions, and came up with a whole new way of looking at things.
While Harry couldn't yet do the work, he had shown this new idea to Brother Paddy who just had to create a new set of mirrors. At least a dozen could be linked, and the theoretical distance was easier to measure in AU (astronomical unit) versus miles or kilometers, it was that strong.
Harry had been told so many times at Privet Drive that he was worthless, and he just refused to accept that message. Not from people like his aunt and uncle who tried to be so normal. But never would be.
The Dursleys were safely in Canada, and Dudley was apparently not having fun as he didn't particularly like sports, and everyone there was as mad for hockey as everyone back on Privet Drive had been mad for football. Of course, the rumors floating around were that they were in Argentina, but that was a diversionary tactic.
Neville was the only one struggling at school in their cohort. His confidence was non-existent. His entire self-worth was based on magic. That worldview was something that the two muggle-raised children didn't share at all!
Neville Longbottom had thought himself a useless squib. Now, he was a wizard! That was going to be something that would take him a while to accept!
Neville walked over and gave Harry a huge heartwarming hug. "I did magic! I felt it! I did magic!"
Harry then looked to the sooty window. The rune had been tossed just in time, for it had started to smoke quickly before exploding. Harry looked out the window and saw others peaking out their windows.
His wide smile was echoed in the other two, until the door banged open.
Deputy Gisele was not to be crossed! Or disturbed. Or disrupted.
"Good afternoon, Sister, can we help you?" Harry asked innocently.
She scowled at him, but he just kept his eyes on her mustache and tried to look as innocent as he was.
The other two broke in seconds.
"It's all my fault, really, I'm so sorry." "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry." Neville and Hermione said together.
The sister tried to look stern, but a small smile crept on her face.
"Well, at last, Mr Longbottom! We were hoping that feeling safe here would help. We'll have a special pudding tonight. Just for you in celebration." She said in perfect Italian. No trace of the strong German accent she had when speaking English.
"Sister Gisele, il dolce, per favore."
"Non budino." Hermione added.
"You want cake, not pudding. I understand. Your Italian is improving everyday students."
"Thank you, Sister. We need to clean up here. It was an accident. Do you want us to help anywhere else?" Harry asked.
Harry was the only one of them ever beaten for making a mess, even if he hadn't done it, so he certainly wanted to clean it up.
"It will give me something for students to do as detention. Again, congratulations Neville. You should think about what you want to say to your grandmother."
The woman swept out of the room.
Now the boy was depressed again, but it was Harry who saved the day.
"I suggest not saying anything. The Hogwarts letter will come to the estate due to the wards, right?"
"Yeah, but she'll want me to go there, back to Cherry Hill, back home. I was only allowed to go here 'cause she thought I was a squib!"
"Hogwarts is still years away. She won't know if you don't tell her! Try not to worry about it. And I'll consult Brother Paddy. You can stay here!"
"The new recruit doesn't respond to Patrick. Do you know his real name?" Neville asked, looking for a diversion.
"No, but he has grey eyes and black hair like the headmaster. Even if he's way younger than Monsignor Brown. And they seem close." Harry pointed out.
"Family then. Well, this coming weekend, if there's an opportunity, we can research that. But now, it's celebration time." Hermione opined.
Harry stated his thoughts out loud. "This is the way it should be. When I 'expressed' magic, I got sent to my cupboard for a week with no food."
"This way is definitely the best. Our families are so messed up. Mine punished me for being a muggle, yours punished you for being a wizard. If we could have switched as babies, do you think either one of us had a chance for a decent family?" Neville asked seriously.
They shared a look.
"Nah!"
**OO**
Brother Paddy, in his Grim form, also called Paddy, dodged the ball Hermione had thrown quite badly.
One of the boys scoffed at her. "Nice shot, Granger!"
Harry changed into his mighty wolf form, well, wolf form. He felt quite powerful in it.
And he was mighty cute!
The canine chased after the boy who had been mean to his friend. The boy shrieked like a girl, and now there were two moving targets for accuracy practice.
The Grim barked in such a way it was a laugh, and Harry pounced on him.
This was how 'Mighty' got his animagus name.
**OO**
All of the students in their cohort who had expressed magic were getting wands, custom made for them. Wand-based classes were starting soon. But they would be in the same format as the other classes. Instructions given, a safe place to practice, and learn at their own pace.
Monsignor Brown had called Harry in for an important consultation.
"I wonder what my wand would have been with that piece of Voldemort in my head," Harry asked the headmaster.
"Good question, likely one at Ollivander's. We will visit there if the newest legislation goes through when you get your letter. But we have powerful friends and allies, so I hope it doesn't."
"Will I have to go back to Britain? I really don't want to!" Harry pouted, but was stopped with a firm look.
"Who knows. Rumors are rife with Dumbledore tricking you back to Britain where he rules. But for now, we are going outside of the wards. We need to prepare. Let's go over this again. If you are kidnapped…"
"I promise to cooperate with my captors and act like they are rescuing me."
"Good. Do you have your emergency supplies, Harry?"
Harry Potter didn't know it, but he had been issued a kit much like a new squire would be. But without having to make sure that it was complete. Harry was only eight after all.
"Moke skin bag, invisible to most unless you look for it, and it is part of my pocket. Tent with food for a year for four warriors, extra wands, the library, a few weapons, and potions lab. That one is not stocked yet. But will be soon?" The kit
That last was to the Monsignor.
"Yes, but I want to be careful about you being outside our wards. Neville too. Too many spies around. Augusta might find out, somehow, about Neville being magical."
"If she demands that he come back?"
"She signed over her rights. She thinks that she is getting control of the estate. A mistake we want her to continue in for as long as possible. While Frank lives, that is not possible. Alice is better, thankfully, and I appreciate you and Neville reading to her. Well done. It's Frank's progress that is just stunted. The potions that they were fed for years did more to harm them than help them. With Malfoy being a frequent and large donor to St. Mungos, I can't help but worry that some of that damage was deliberate."
"Alice is my godmother! My only living family!" Harry agained whined, but the second strong look was clearly a warning to stop now or face cleaning the stables without magic... again.
"Harry! I consider you family, and I know that you love Brother Paddy as well. Don't you?"
"Yes, but it's not the same!" Harry complained, brushing a tear from his eyes. He visited Alice often, and read to her every day. But while she was better, she was just so empty. She did like hearing his voice, though. It was supposed to help his progress in languages, and so far he had three in addition to Italian. The magical potions laid the base for quick learning.
"And what if Dumbledore turns me over to Vernon! He'll kill me!" Harry was clearly stressed about the entire situation. Overstressed.
"Deep breaths! This is why we go through this. To plan. For you to feel the panic here, and not out in the world.
Kreacher popped in just then, and handed over a potion begrudgingly. He pulled his ears, and didn't criticize the heir to the house, which meant that the elf wanted to talk.
"Hello, Kreacher. I'll let you talk to my guardian. It's nice to see you."
Harry was dismissed with a nod, and an extra assignment to write down an action plan if Dumbledore did try to take Harry by force, however unlikely it was. And make a two-columned list. Resources he had, including his knowledge, and resources he yet needed.
The busy headmaster focused on his adoring elf. The elf beamed at him now that the half-blood was gone.
"How is mother today?" Rigel asked Kreacher kindly.
"Kreacher serve mistress while alive, now she's gone, and Kreacher only has portrait to serve. Kreacher much rather be here with his master. Mistress missing you deeply. Kreacher understands why you have to trick her, but you should be having children, and siring a proper heir for the House!"
Kreacher made no attempt to hide his true feelings for Harry Potter.
"I am acting as Lord Black, but remember that dark ritual that nearly killed me? The healer says that I will never father children. I'm sorry. This allows me to take further vows for the Order. Vows I take seriously. Augustus votes for me as regent for Harry. Once the Dark Lord is dead, and I mean truly, really dead, then I can have a nice party and declare myself alive. Until then, no one will try to assassinate someone who is dead."
"But you killed Mistress Bellatrix!" The elf whined.
Rigel thought it was his day to hear nothing but whines.
"Kreacher! How do you know that?"
"You have access to poisons and such. Terrible things. Mistress Bellatrix died of horrible disease. I know that you did it! I just know! And she is Black blood!"
"Kreacher, if she was free, would she help purebloods have a better life, or would she just be the Dark Lord's attack dog?"
"Mistress Bellatrix likes to kill muggles!"
Silently, Rigel handed over a list of names, all pureblood. All killed by the Dark Lord or Bellatrix.
It was not a short list.
"The Dark Lord killed my father. We both know that my grandparents, Orion's parents contracted him to marry my mother when they found no other suitably pure families. And Voldemort tried to kill both of my father's sons! What do you want from me, Kreacher? To hold goodness and mercy for the Dark Lord in my heart? I am bound to a mission to save the wizarding world from evil by whatever means necessary."
"Then why you hasn't be killing pink toady witch? The one who used to kill muggles with Mistress Walburga?"
"As far as I know, she didn't kill any witches or wizards. Wanted to put them on trial for stealing magic, what idiotic nonsense, but only killed muggles. That I have proof for, at least. There are lots of those muggles in the world, you know. I can't go around killing witches who kill them for a hobby. Not my job. But if she puts one toe out of line, and hurts wizards or witches, that is something different."
Rigel only partly believed in the party line of 'non-interference' without invitation. He figured that phrasing it as though he still held onto pureblood dogma would help secure his position with the cranky elf.
'If I ever find proof that Dolores Umbridge is killing muggleborns, I will deal with her directly, invitation to help Britain or no.' Rigel thought to himself.
House-elves could get away with a lot. If Kreacher knew that his brother was not dead...best not to even think it around him.
Bellatrix was his cousin. Was Black happy for causing his cousin's death? Part of him wishes it had not been necessary. But she was very dangerous, and the possibility of the Dark Lord being resurrected was real. He wouldn't profit from her death though. That was just evil. No. Other than destroying the trinket from her vault that led to another step in the process to kill Voldemort forever, he wouldn't take anything from her for himself. He had already had Kreacher deliver Bellatrix's bequests to Narcissa. Saving out only some Black ancestral jewelry, and a nice nest egg for Neville as a small recompense for his parent's loss by the Lestranges, the rest was given to the Order.
The million galleons worth of investments that guaranteed the Lestrange seat would be given over to the Order as well. The line was extinct. So sad in a way, but they had bred nothing but monsters for a while. If only they would have repented, and raised their children to do good.
Far too late now.
Rigel was debating turning over the Headship of his family to Harry when he left for Hogwarts. Rigel had moved the non-entailed Black vaults to Gringotts Rome years ago. The Black million galleons worth of investment that guaranteed the Black seat was now in trust to Harry Potter.
No one could touch those monies. Not for either seat, and the Order would never ask for them to be turned over. It was a trust for the family, not something that benefited individuals. Even if someone cut off Harry's hands and stole his rings would they be able to get those monies. Vote the seat, maybe, if the Wizengamot didn't arrest said, horrible person. But then they would have to come up with their own deposit. That sort of fighting had happened before. And the goblins wouldn't put up with theft.
The rest of the non-insignificant amount left in the Black family vault would be invested.
Monsignor Brown had not tried to move the locked-down Potter vaults. These were left alone and in London for now. Moving them to Rome would be too obvious. No one could access these except to deposit gold. Dumbledore had the key anyways. Rigel was just waiting for Harry Potter to come of age, or at least fifteen when knights took the first set of vows. Then! Then Rigel could start making some choices on what to do with the Potter vaults, and the rest of the Black vaults.
Working on his Occlumency, he pushed the sad thoughts that Harry struggled with to the forefront of his mind.
What would he, Rigel, do in a situation where he was forced to be in close proximity to a magic-hating muggle who had broken his bones and deprived him of food? He picked up a mirror.
"Brother Paddy, come to my office when you get a chance. I have a job for you."
**OO**
A/N: Simul nous fortior - we are stronger together
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