I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred and InquisitorCOC for betareading.
Chapter 40: The Slavery Dilemma Part 1
Grimmauld Place, London, Britain, July 21st, 1996
"Thank you for having us over, Mr Black."
"Call me Sirius!"
"Sorry, Sirius."
"Bye, Sirius!"
Sirius Black wanted to shake his head as Harry and his girlfriend vanished in the fireplace. Miss Granger was a tough nut to crack, but he'd get her to call him Sirius and mean it.
"Good evening, Sirius." Lily nodded at him. "Don't be too late, James," she added, then stepped through the flames herself.
Sirius refrained from sighing when the flames died down. James didn't like it if he joked about Lily's attitude. Instead, he turned, smiling at his best friend. "So, let's retire to the study."
"Alright, Sirius."
"Kreacher!"
"Yes, yes. Firewhisky," the elf grumbled from behind the curtain.
Sirius ignored the 'drunkard' he heard before the door to the elf passages closed. He wasn't a drunkard. Not any more.
James didn't comment, either, as they walked to the study. With Peter and Remus gone on new assignments, it was just the two of them. As had been the norm since Hogwarts.
Sirius sighed as he sat down in his favourite armchair - in this room. He had a favourite armchair in every room that contained armchairs. And he had a favourite armchair to conjure if a room lacked one.
"So, how's Harry doing?" James asked. "And Miss Granger?"
Sirius raised his eyebrows slightly at the slip. "Well, I'm already thinking about what I'll gift them for the wedding."
James, who had been about to pour some whisky into his glass - Kreacher had beaten them here, as expected - almost spilt it on the carpet. "What?"
"I'm joking," Sirius told him with a chuckle. He was - mostly.
"You better be!" James retorted. "We raised Harry better than that!"
"Don't worry - I taught him all the necessary spells," Sirius told him. "But they do remind me of you and Lily in sixth year."
"What?" James leaned forward.
"Didn't you realise how they talk? One of them says one thing, the other adds something, then the first one goes on…" Sirius spread his hands. "Happens often enough, and I don't think they do it deliberately."
"That doesn't mean anything." James shook his head. "They're teenagers. She's Harry's first girlfriend."
"First love," Sirius said. "You should know the difference."
"It's not the same. They were - they are - under a lot of stress. Much more than Lily and I were."
Sirius snorted. "We were in the middle of a war. Even as a student, Lily knew she was a target. For years." Best student and a muggleborn? The Death Eaters hated her.
"It's…" James sighed. "I had girlfriends before her."
"You were going out with witches. You didn't have girlfriends," Sirius told him. "Trust me, I know the difference." Too well, actually. Then again - Sirius was still young. He would find someone, one of those days. Once he started actually looking seriously. Probably abroad, though, where people didn't know him or his wealth.
James sighed. "Fine. They're in love. Happy?" He filled his glass and took a swallow.
"Harry is happy," Sirius pointed out as he summoned the bottle to him.
"Good. And I want him to stay happy."
"Well, I think they'll stay happy, as far as I can tell." Sirius filled his own glass and raised it. "Santé!" Ah! That burned nicely going down.
"From one lesson?"
"From watching them interact with each other," Sirius replied. "They form a good team."
"He also is part of a good Quidditch team. That doesn't mean that he'll marry the keeper."
Sirius chuckled and refilled his glass before handing the bottle back to James. "What's your problem, actually? Do you think Miss Granger is wrong for Harry?"
"No," James replied - a little too quickly. With another sigh, he added: "They spent years fighting each other. And now they're a couple?"
"Think positive: They already saw each other at their worst. And they're basically living together now."
"Yes. Right after living together on the pirate island." James took another swallow. "It's all going so fast, Sirius. It took me months of dating Lily before we were even thinking of living together. They started living together before they got together."
"And it seems to be working. They aren't you and Lily. Miss Granger isn't 'the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts', for one," Sirius quoted sixteen-year-old James with a laugh.
James wasn't laughing. "There are more beautiful witches at Hogwarts. I mean, Miss Granger isn't ugly - she's pretty - but..." He shrugged.
Sirius blinked. "Do you think Harry will dump her for someone prettier?"
James sighed once more. "They're teenagers. Appearances count a lot."
"They're not normal teenagers. I think you underestimate Harry." Harry certainly seemed to think the world of her. Like James with Lily.
"I hope you're right," James said. "If they have a nasty breakup… I already told Lily I would send Aurors to Hogwarts in that case, and I wasn't entirely joking."
Sirius shook his head. "James… it's not just Harry who was under a lot of stress. We all were."
"We were trained for this. Used to this," his friend retorted.
"Used to worry about Harry's life?" Sirius shook his head. "No, we weren't. Not any more. Also, would you have dumped Lily for, say, Mathilda Browtuckle?"
"Of course not! But Lily's much prettier than Mathilda."
Sirius shook his head. "James, Mathilda was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. Hell, Peter was convinced she was a Veela in disguise. But you loved Lily." He made a mental note to look up how Mathilda was doing these days. Last he heard, she had moved to France after school.
James grumbled and refilled his glass.
"So, stop worrying so much about what might happen." Sirius nodded at him, then summoned the bottle and vanished it. James had had enough, in his opinion - and Sirius knew too much about drinking to trust himself.
"I can't help worrying. Both of them, they're so… tense. Paranoid." James scoffed and put the empty glass down on the side table with a slight crack. "And I can't do anything to help them."
"Well, I think they're going to be OK," Sirius said. "I'm teaching them how to react to surprises."
James, surprisingly, didn't seem to feel reassured by that. "And what exactly did you teach them today?"
"We've started on the Disillusionment Charm. And I've stressed how escaping should be their priority if they're under attack," Sirius told him. "And yes, I think they understood the lesson."
"Remains to be seen if they actually heed your advice. They bloody attacked a pirate ship and port!" James blurted out.
"And they succeeded," Sirius replied. He shrugged. "And they only stayed long enough to save the little Veela and get the hell out of the village."
"Harry sunk the ship."
"All part of their plan to lure them away."
"Which almost got Harry killed!" James hit the armrest of his chair with his fist.
There was that. "I think he's learned his lesson about that," Sirius said.
"And you think next time he won't risk himself like that?" James scoffed.
"I don't think there'll be a next time," Sirius said. "This was a once-a-lifetime accident. Do you honestly think that he'll end up stranded on an island again? On our watch?"
"No, of course not," his friend admitted.
"And even if it happened again, they'll be much better prepared for it. Once I'm through with them, they'll be able to escape any pirate crew."
"But what if someone goes after him? And Miss Granger?" James looked around, presumably for the bottle. "Someone could read the stupid article and think that is a way to earn a reputation."
"Against one or even two students?" Sirius shook her head. "And do you think they would risk Dumbledore's ire for this?"
"Some criminals are that dumb," James retorted.
"Well, if they are, then I think Harry and Miss Granger can handle them." Sirius shrugged again and leaned back. Idiots just weren't too dangerous.
"Unless they get lucky. Or do something so mindlessly stupid, Harry wouldn't expect it."
"Never underestimate the Slytherins! Or, in this case, overestimate them!" Sirius joked.
James gave him a decidedly unamused look. "It's not funny."
Sirius disagreed - Slytherins being dumb was always funny - but he shrugged once more. "All I'm saying is that you should trust Harry and Miss Granger a bit more. They did survive - and succeed - where grown wizards would have died." Had died, actually, as the wand they had found proved, but this wasn't the time to remind James of that little tidbit. "They'll be able to handle Hogwarts, dumb Slytherins and any idiot trying to get a name for themselves. Without killing anyone."
James clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. "It's not that easy."
Of course it wasn't. Sirius worried himself. Sometimes, you had all the skill in the world, and your enemy got lucky - Duelling proved that every season. But you couldn't plan for that. "Trust Harry. He's your son. You raised him. You and Lily."
"We didn't raise him to spend years feuding with a classmate."
"Well… we did the same thing."
"That's not a good thing, Sirius."
He spread his hand. "If you say so." Snivellous certainly had deserved it. Bloody Death Eater. "Anyway," he continued before James could elaborate on this, "Harry stopped that, didn't he?"
James gave him the unamused look again. "He didn't exactly stop because he realised that what he was doing was wrong."
"Does it matter as long as he eventually realised that it was wrong?"
James sighed. "So, you think everything's fine?"
"What?" Sirius cocked his head at James. "No, of course not. But Harry and Miss Granger should be fine." Narcissa's spawn, on the other hand… Sirius smiled.
"I wish I could share the sentiment."
"It's easy. Just trust your son. And his girlfriend. And don't try to hold them back from learning new spells." Sirius had the other points covered, anyway. A few Galleons for a new premium broom and other supplies wouldn't even dent his money. And those could be used for Quidditch, so it was a sensible expense.
James sighed again - that was, what, the fifth time now? Something like it - and stood. "Well, I'll have to head home before Lily comes looking for me."
Sirius flashed him a wide grin as he got up as well. "You decided to get married, James."
"You would've done the same if you had found a witch like her."
"Maybe." Sirius hadn't been ready to marry anyone after Hogwarts. And he hadn't been ready for anything after the war. Not that it mattered. He was still young. Not even forty. Even for a Black, that was not old.
"Ah…" James hesitated, then took a step closer and put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Thank you. For, you know…" He trailed off.
Sirius nodded. "Anytime. Have a safe trip home. And send Harry and Miss Granger my regards."
"You just saw them."
"So?" Sirius grinned. And kept grinning until James had vanished in the fireplace.
Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 22nd, 1996
Harry Potter grinned when he approached his target. She was unaware of his presence, focused on her breakfast and the Daily Prophet. Not that it would've changed anything if she had been paying attention - he was invisible. And he was walking carefully - she wouldn't hear his steps. He knew where the creaking floorboards were and avoided them until he was standing right behind her.
Then he struck. "Surprise!" His fingers dug into her sides as he tickled her.
Rose shrieked and jumped up, scattering cereal across the table. "Harry! You prat!"
He laughed. "Oh, your reaction!"
"Mum! Harry's using Dad's cloak again!" the nark yelled.
"I'm not!" Harry protested. "This is a Disillusionment Charm!"
"Mum! Harry's breaking the underage magic law!"
"That's the 'Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery'," he corrected her.
Rose rolled her eyes. "You sound like your girlfriend."
He did not! But just as he was about to correct his sister, Mum entered the kitchen. "What did you do, Harry?"
He shrugged. "Just having a laugh. I snuck up on Rose and tickled her." Harmless fun.
"He made me spill my breakfast!" Rose protested.
"You spilt it when you overreacted."
"I didn't overreact! And you're one to complain - if I had sneaked up on you, you'd have blown up the kitchen!" Rose shook her head.
Mum vanished the mess before summoning another bowl and the cereal box.
"I wouldn't have blown up the kitchen!" Harry told her.
"You would! Mum told me so!"
"Mum!" He turned to his mother.
"You were - and still are - jumpy, Harry," she told him. "You yourself said that you are afraid of an attack."
"I'm not afraid of an attack!" Harry clenched his teeth. "I'm just cautious."
"You're paranoid," Rose muttered.
"I'm not paranoid!" He glared at her. "I was attacked by pirates."
"Not in England," she shot back. "Do you really think there'll be a pirate ship sailing up the creek? Or a Viking raid?"
"Rose!" Mum snapped. "Don't make light of your brother's… views."
Harry narrowed his eyes at her. 'Views'? What had been her first choice? Fears? Delusions? He was just being cautious. Besides, Sirius was teaching him how not to overreact to pranks. "I wouldn't blow up anything or anyone. Maybe stun an idiot who attacked me…" He bared his teeth at Rose.
"You won't stun your sister, Harry!" Mum snapped. "Or anyone else!"
"Unless they attack me," he insisted.
Mum stared at him, then sighed.
Harry grinned as Rose pouted. Point Harry!
"Good morning."
"Hermione!" He turned and beamed at her.
"Don't act like you haven't spent the night together," Rose mumbled.
"Rose!" Mum put her hands on her hips and glared at the brat.
Harry frowned, then smiled and wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist. "And?" His sister was just jealous. Or should that be envious? It wasn't as if she wanted Hermione - she just wanted a boyfriend. At least he thought so.
"What happened?" Hermione asked.
"Rose spilt her cereal when I tickled her," Harry explained.
"You pranked me!"
"I only tickled you." Harry snorted.
"From behind! While disillusioned!"
"Oh! You could sneak up on her? That's great!"
"What?" Rose gaped at them.
"We've just started learning the charm," Hermione explained. "And we haven't mastered it yet." A moment later, she raised her wand and cast the spell herself.
"Mum!" Rose protested again while Hermione faded from view.
And his mother sighed again. "Please, don't train casting spells at the table."
"Sorry, Mrs Potter," Hermione said, cancelling the spell.
"Call me Lily."
"Lily." Hermione nodded.
Harry smiled. She wasn't too comfortable with using Mum's first name, but he was sure she would get there.
"Now, let's eat breakfast," Mum said. "And no more spells."
Harry pulled Hermione's chair out before sitting down himself. Rose rolled her eyes, of course, but everyone ignored her. He was tempted to kick her under the table - that wouldn't break Mum's no spells rule. But it would cause more trouble.
Mum put the basket with toast on the table, and Harry grabbed one. While he spread butter and jam over it, he peered at the Prophet.
"You're not on the front page," Rose told him as she pulled the newspaper back and out of his reach.
"Good," Hermione said. "The first article was bad enough."
"You're on pages two and three," Rose added with a slight smirk.
Harry groaned, and Hermione pursed her lips.
"You're mentioned in the article, but it's mostly an in-depth report about piracy," Mum told her. "They just used your names to draw attention."
That was… well, acceptable, in Harry's opinion. "As long as they don't have me storm a harem," he muttered.
Hermione nodded emphatically.
"It's mostly aimed at Dumbledore," Rose told them without looking up from the article in question. "They're questioning why he hasn't done anything about the pirates."
"That might start a war with the Ottoman Empire," Mum commented. "Attacking a hidden island nominally under no one's control is one thing. Starting to attack all the pirates in the Barbary Coast? That would start a war."
"Dumbledore would win the war," Rose objected.
"At what cost? He can't be everywhere, and while he is scouring the Barbary Coast, they'll strike at our shores," Mum countered.
Harry frowned. This sounded… "But we should do something."
"Yes. But through diplomacy," Mum retorted.
"I bet the French disagree," Hermione commented.
Mum frowned at her.
Hermione Granger met Mrs Potter's gaze - Lily's, she reminded herself - without flinching. Much. "In a war, it wouldn't be just Dumbledore. At least France, as well as Spain and Portugal, would join us. And some of the Italian enclaves. Probably the Balkans, too."
"The war would spread to half of Europe - the entire Mediterranean," Mrs Potter replied.
"If the Ottomans want to risk such a war," Hermione pointed out. The threat of such a war, after all, had made the Ottomans back down and outlaw slave raids and piracy in the fifties. Nominally, at least - it wasn't as if they had really gone after slavers and pirates.
"If the Ottomans back down, the Sultan would lose face and possibly be replaced," Mrs Potter retorted. "He might prefer a war to that. And how many would die in such a war?"
Hermione pressed her lips together. You couldn't just weigh lives against each other like that. Slavery was evil. And as long as no one did anything, it would continue. "And how many people will be kidnapped and enslaved every year if nothing is done?" She raised her chin.
"That's why Dumbledore is using diplomacy," Mrs Potter said. "He doesn't want to risk a war."
Though diplomacy wouldn't stop the pirates. Not for a long while, Hermione was certain. But she was a guest here, and arguing too much would be rude.
"That won't help the pirates' victims, Mum." Harry, obviously, had no such qualms.
"As it is, the Ottomans have at least to act as if they want to suppress piracy and slavers. If war breaks out, they will not only stop even pretending to care - they will set the pirates loose and support them," Mrs Potter retorted. "And in war, we'd have to fight the Sultan's Janissaries."
Hermione pressed her lips together. The Janissaries, like their defunct muggle counterparts, were slaves raised to be loyal soldiers of the Sultan. Fighting them… Well, it would be like fighting the victims of the Imperius Curse.
Harry, judging by his scowl, was aware of that as well.
"Harry…" Mrs Potter sighed and sat down at the table. "And Hermione. I, we are aware of the situation. And none of us likes it. But a war isn't the solution. No matter what the French think."
"Not the best solution, maybe. But it would be a solution," Harry said.
"A bad one," Mrs Potter said.
Rose didn't weigh in, Hermione noticed. Which was a little weird - the girl hadn't struck her as holding back with her opinion on pretty much anything. "But everyone knows that the Ottomans not only tolerate but protect slavers," she said.
"Some 'know' that Britain protects dark wizards," Mrs Potter said with a frown. "They point at the many 'victims of the Imperius Curse' that were let go after the war. Some claim that the fact that a war happened in the first place is proof that Britain's riddled with dark wizards."
Well, Hermione wouldn't completely disagree with that. "There are a lot of people who think that the Death Eaters were too radical, but not really wrong."
"Like Malfoy," Harry added.
Mrs Potter shook her head. "Things have improved a lot since I started at Hogwarts."
"That was in the middle of the war," Harry protested.
"And we won the war," she replied. "At great cost. Which is why I don't condone starting another war if we can avoid it."
Hermione pressed her lips together before she could mention Chamberlain. Which would've been unfair, anyway - the man had started Britain's rearmament and must have been aware that war was nigh inevitable. But everyone knew what he stood for now. Still… "You can always avoid a war by surrendering," she said. And struggled not to flinch at the glare she received in return.
"I didn't mean that. Of course you can't just surrender. Or give in to the most atrocious demands. But to start a war over an issue you can solve with more peaceful means? That is wrong."
Hermione bit her lower lip, feeling her cheeks heat up. She had bungled that.
"Mum!" Harry leaned forward and glared at her.
Mrs Potter glared back.
"Mum," Rose piped up, "Would you go to war if they had taken Harry to Constantinople? Or me?"
"I would've gone in with our friends and gotten you out," Mrs Potter said after a moment.
"And if that would've started a war?" Hermione asked before she could control herself.
"We would've tried to minimise the danger of that. Peter knows how to be subtle. As long as the Sultan doesn't lose too much face, things wouldn't have escalated."
That sounded, well, not wrong, but a little… selective.
"And we can't do that for the other victims?" Harry asked, scowling still.
"There are too many for that," Mrs Potter replied. "I don't like it, but that's the reality of it. Unless you want to go to war. And trust me, you don't want to go to war."
Well, Hermione didn't want to go to war. But she didn't want to leave anyone in slavery, either. "Then, perhaps, we should do something about this. Diplomatically," she added.
"What?" Harry asked.
"We're currently the focus of the press," she explained. Harry more so than herself, but still. "We could give another interview. About piracy and slavery."
Harry nodded with a smile. "Oh, yes. Use this whole thing for a good purpose!"
"I would suggest you ask Dumbledore for advice first." Mrs Potter's tone clearly told Hermione that this wasn't a suggestion but an order.
Well, it was a sensible order, at least.
"Sorry about Mum." Harry Potter smiled at Hermione as they walked over to the shed in the backyard. "She's… well, you saw." He shrugged.
"Yes. Understandable, actually, since she fought in the Blood War." Hermione nodded.
He clenched his teeth for a moment. He didn't quite agree. "Well, it's a little hypocritical, isn't it? She'd be willing to go to war for Rose and me, but not for Céline."
Hermione bit her lower lip. "She said that she would've freed you without starting a war."
"She would come save us even if it would start a war." Harry had no doubt about that. He sighed. "It just… doesn't feel right."
Hermione bit her lower lip again. Was she holding back to not criticise Mum? "She had several convincing arguments against waging war."
"They're only convincing if Dumbledore actually can stop the pirates. They haven't been stopped yet, and it's been decades," Harry pointed out. "And how many people have been kidnapped since then? Not everyone can call on Dumbledore or Mum and Dad's other friends to save someone."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But how many would die in a war?"
Well, that was an unfair question. "It's still not fair."
"No, it isn't. But leaving you in captivity or slavery just to be fair wouldn't be right, either. Just because you can't or won't save everyone doesn't mean you can't save anyone."
"Yes. But let's stop talking about Rose or I being enslaved, alright?" And Harry wasn't even touching the question of whether or not Mum - or Dumbledore - would risk a war for Hermione. Though he was sure that Hermione was thinking about it. "Let's fly!" he said with a smile that was almost genuine.
"Yes." Hermione sounded a little less enthusiastic than Harry had expected, but she nodded anyway. Well, she had selected flying as something they needed to train.
"Come, we've got a few brooms in the shed." Not as many as the Weasleys had, of course, but the Potters didn't have a Quidditch pitch. "I learned how to fly on those brooms," he told Hermione.
"And how far can we fly here?" Hermione asked. "Half the village are muggles, as far as I know."
"Well… the backyard is covered with charms," Harry said. "And the field beyond that." Which was a little larger than a Quidditch pitch, but not by much. Then again, what more did you need?
"So we'll focus on manoeuvring instead of on speed, I guess."
"A bit of both," Harry said. "Like Quidditch."
"Without Bludgers, I hope."
"Not until we've gotten the basics down." Well, until she got the basics down. "But you already flew great on the island."
"I levitated a plank," she corrected him.
"And then you flew the broom. This will be easy." He opened the door to the shed. "Ignore the garden tools. Now… this is a Cleansweep Six. Good broom, agile and decently fast. Good for Beaters."
"I've read up on them." Hermione took it.
Of course she had. "Sirius should buy you a Nimbus 2001, at the least," he said.
She pressed her lips together and didn't comment on that. "Let's fly."
Harry grabbed a Cleansweep Five - but one in good condition; Dad's first broom - and followed her outside. A moment later, they were in the air.
And he loved it. Out of habit, he pulled straight up, climbing a hundred yards in a few seconds, then levelled out.
Hermione was following him, though a little more slowly. "Look at that!" Harry said, gesturing towards the village spread in front of them.
"And they can't see us?" Hermione asked.
"No. I do this every time I fly," he told her. "Just looking." At the village, at the land around it.
"It's… impressive."
"It's great!" He smiled. "Just you and your broom. And the sky." Almost as great as playing Quidditch.
Hermione laughed. "And no wyvern to hunt us."
"Right." He glanced at her. She was sitting on her broom and looked more relaxed now. Her ponytail was unravelling, but the slight breeze kept the strands of hair that had already escaped from her face. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Sensible muggle clothes for broom riding. Not quite as good as Quidditch robes, but… they looked better on her than robes. Much better.
He wet his lips, then grinned and guided his broom next to her.
"I'll have to train how to fly backwards with a broom - and sideways," she said. "This could be…"
He interrupted her by leaning over and kissing her.
This was perfect. Just perfect. Just him, her, and the sky. And a gentle breeze. And…
...claws on his shoulder, and something slapping the back of his head. Hedwig.
He pulled back, wincing when the sudden movement made his own grip his shoulder more tightly, her claws pricking his skin. She barked into his ear, too.
"Great," he heard Hermione mutter. "The owl is back."
And she had a letter.
He gently took it from her leg, fed her a treat from his pocket, then opened the envelope.
"It's from Ron, asking if we're busy this afternoon. Or if we want to hang out."
"We've got duelling practice," Hermione reminded him.
That was true. They could go over to Ron to fly on the pitch. On the other hand… He smiled at Hermione. "We're good here."
She nodded.
They could go hang with Ron and Lavender tomorrow.
Today, it was just the two of them. Almost like back on the island.
Kingston upon Thames, London, Britain, July 22nd, 1996
"Mum! Dad! We're back!" Hermione Granger announced as they entered the house. Both her parents should be around at this time of the evening - it was time for dinner, almost a little late, actually.
"Hermione! Harry! Did you have a nice day?" Mum appeared in the doorway to the living room.
"Yes, Mum," Hermione replied. "We stayed a little longer than planned at Grimmauld Place, sorry."
"Welcome back!" Dad hollered from the kitchen.
"Sirius made us run late," Harry said as they followed Mum back into the living room.
Hermione frowned at him. "It was our fault for not watching the time," she told him.
"He should've kept the time in mind," Harry retorted with a grin. "Besides, he told me himself that part of a godfather's duty was taking the blame for my mistakes."
She snorted at that. It certainly fit the man. And if he had actually said it, then blaming him would be alright.
"Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes!" Dad yelled.
Which probably meant twenty to thirty. Dad wasn't the most experienced cook. "OK, Dad," she yelled back.
Mum frowned at that - she didn't like yelling in the house. "So, what did you do today?" she asked as she sat down on the couch, putting away the magazine she must have been reading.
"We went flying in the morning," Harry said, smiling widely.
Hermione smiled as well. After the slightly daunting start, it had been a wonderful experience. Even when they had been training to weave around obstacles. Flying, on a proper broom, and without people casting curses at you, was incredible. The freedom in the sky… She understood Harry's enthusiasm now.
Quidditch was still a little overhyped, though. Not that she'd tell him that, of course. "It was great, Mum. Much better than the lessons at school."
"And it'll be even better once Sirius gets you a top-of-the-line broom," Harry added. "We only had a Cleansweep Five and Six. With a Nimbus 2001 or a Sturmwind Blitz, it'll be incredible!"
Hermione winced. That was a little delicate. Perhaps...
"Sturmwind Blitz?" Mum asked, frowning a little.
"The main racing model from Sturmwind," Harry explained. "With it and the Tornado II, they're the main competitor for the Firebolt in the Quidditch leagues. They're Prussians, so they're usually focusing on the European markets, but the Firebolt outclassed everything when it came out three years ago, and they have rushed to upgrade their Tornado Model and then released the Blitz and are now pushing into Britain as well."
"Well, I can think of more tasteful names than 'Blitz'," Mum said.
Hermione nodded. It seemed Mum hadn't caught the insinuation about Harry's godfather.
But then her mother went on: "But why would Mr Black buy Hermione a broom? Especially a very expensive one, as this sounds like." Mum narrowed her eyes slightly at Hermione. "I remember the prices in the broom shop window last year."
She suppressed the urge to cringe and sat straighter. "Mr Black wants me to be as safe as possible, so Harry won't 'do anything stupid' to save me."
"If you need anything, we can certainly supply you with it," Mum said.
"That's just an excuse Sirius uses," Harry told her. "He likes giving people gifts. You should've seen the portable Potions lab Rose got for her eleventh birthday. It was meant for Potioneers on expeditions for new material and recipes - it had everything in it."
"For an eleven-year-old girl?" Mum asked.
"Yes. She had a lot of fun until she managed to blow it up." Harry chuckled. "Mum was furious about the clean-up. And forbid Sirius to give her anything like that until she gets her N.E.W.T.s."
"I see."
"No, you don't," Hermione blurted out. "Brooms are different. The faster and more manoeuvrable a broom is, the better we can escape from attackers. But they're not any more dangerous just for being faster." Mum looked doubtful, so Hermione added: "And we're training flying evasively."
Mum was still frowning. "Just how expensive is such a broom?"
"We haven't yet decided on a specific model," Hermione said.
"How expensive is a Nimbus 2001 or a Blitz?"
Hermione clenched her teeth and glanced at Harry. Lying wouldn't help. She told her mother.
Mum didn't quite gasp, but drawing a surprised breath through clenched teeth wasn't much better. "You could buy a car for that sum. A nice car."
"Well, it's like a car for wizards and witches," Harry said. "And brooms last. We were riding Dad's first broom today and also his second broom. They're still working like a charm."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the weak joke.
He chuckled in return. "Anyway, Sirius can afford it, trust me."
"I have no doubt that Mr Black can afford it. But I don't like anyone buying Hermione such an expensive gift," Mum replied. "If you need such a broom, we can cover that."
They could afford it, Hermione knew, but… it would eat into their funds. They wouldn't have to cut back on anything, but… it was quite the sum. Almost like buying her a Ferrari as her first car. Not that she needed a car.
"But you don't have to. Sirius will probably consider it a birthday gift. If you pay for the broom, he'll find something else," Harry said.
Hermione pressed her lips together when she had a brief vision of a portable library stocked with the rarest books available. No, she wouldn't sink as low as trying to milk Harry's godfather. On the other hand, he still owed her for helping Harry in their feud…
"I'll have to discuss this with Gabriel," Mum said.
"And us," Hermione reminded her.
Mum pursed her lips. Drat.
Well, I messed up, Harry Potter thought. He hadn't realised Sirius being, well, Sirius would be a problem. On the other hand, Hermione hadn't mentioned it either. Still, it seemed odd. Once Mrs Granger had left the living room, he leaned over to Hermione and whispered: "Why doesn't she like it if Sirius gives you a broom?"
"Mum and Dad don't like feeling as if they need charity," Hermione replied in a low voice. "Or as if they owe someone. They would rather take a loan than let uncle Alfred pay the mortgage for them."
"Oh." Harry swallowed his first retort. He could kind of understand the attitude, but… "This is about your safety. And you shouldn't have to feel as if you're robbing your parents."
"I know," she hissed back. "But they don't see it like that."
Before Harry could reply, Mrs Granger returned. "Dinner will be ready soon."
"OK!" He forced himself to smile again. "Anyway, as I said, Sirius will give Hermione an expensive gift for her birthday. So, if it's not a broom, it'll be something else. You can't really stop him - trust me, my parents tried." Not for too long, of course - they'd known Sirius for a long time by then.
Mrs Granger didn't seem to be any happier about this than she had been a minute or two ago.
"And don't try to tell me I should refuse a gift," Hermione said. "I don't want to insult Mr Black."
Harry opened his mouth to explain that Sirius wouldn't feel insulted, but she stepped on his foot before he could say anything. Ah!
Her mother had narrowed her eyes. "That seems rather convenient."
Hermione met her eyes without flinching. "Old pureblood families have some customs that would seem strange to us."
"Oh, yes. Usually small stuff," Harry said. "But you can easily make a faux-pas if you don't know about them." Mostly by being friendly with the wrong person - feuds ran deep and long amongst the Old Families - but that was neither here nor there.
"Ah." Mrs Granger sighed. "I don't like it."
"I don't like it either, Mum," Hermione said. "But Harry's right. And I would be safer with a better broom."
Harry nodded.
"Dinner's ready! À table!" Mr Granger called out.
Dinner, as it turned out, was parmesan chicken with pasta. Apparently a speciality of Mr Granger. It was good, though, of course, it didn't compare to Molly's cooking. Not that Harry said so - as a little kid, he had learned from his mum's reaction that this was rude and stupid.
But while they ate, the conversation was limited to lighter topics. Or what passed as lighter topics at the Granger's. Mostly the news, it seemed, and books of all kinds. He had a little trouble following some of the stuff, not having read nearly as many books, but he could easily keep up with the politics thanks to his visits to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Although their stances were quite different from the Grangers'.
"So," Mr Granger said while they were clearing the table - Harry had to remind himself that they couldn't just charm the silverware and pots to clean themselves, "I've heard there's some issue about a racing broom that Hermione wants."
"Needs," Harry corrected him. The man frowned a little at him, but Harry wouldn't budge on that.
"It will make escaping enemies safer and easier," Hermione said. "And it'll also keep for years."
"Unless you crash it."
"Brooms are made to last," Harry said. "I've crashed half a dozen times during Quidditch, and my Firebolt is still fine!"
"You've crashed half a dozen times?" Mrs Granger's eyebrows rose. As did Mr Granger's. And they glanced at Hermione.
"I had nothing to do with that!" she protested. "Besides, you'd have to be suicidal to mess with Quidditch!"
"That wasn't what we were thinking," her mum said. "But if Harry crashed six times, and he's one of the best Quidditch players in England…"
Harry smiled, straightening a little. He was the youngest Seeker in a very long time, after all. And he had played a crucial role in securing the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor every year since he started playing.
"He is. He is also absolutely reckless when he's playing," Hermione told her parents. "Once he sees the Snitch, he won't stop until he catches it."
"'Catch the Snitch or die trying', as my first captain told me," Harry said with his best cocky grin - almost like Bill's.
The Grangers, though, didn't seem to be impressed. Not at all.
He smiled at them. "How about we take you flying, so you can see it for yourself?"
"Ah…" Mrs Granger started to say.
"That's an excellent idea!" Hermione positively gushed. "Just as you always say: Don't knock it if you haven't tried it!"
"We were talking about vegetables, dear," Mr Granger told her.
"The principle remains the same," she retorted with her chin slightly raised.
Harry nodded. This should be good!