I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred and InquisitorCOC for betareading.
Chapter 41: The Slavery Dilemma Part 2
Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 23rd, 1996
"And this is a Cleansweep Five. Old, but reliable. It has been working perfectly for decades by now!"
Ellen Granger had to struggle to keep smiling. Harry was obviously convinced that telling her that the broom had been in operation for over twenty years was a good sign. But she couldn't help feeling that this just meant that it was about to break down.
"I hope it was regularly maintained," Gabriel commented. He chuckled as if he were joking, but he wasn't joking at all - Ellen could easily tell.
Unfortunately, so could Hermione. "Dad! It's perfectly safe! Spells don't run out like that."
"But what about them 'getting quirky', as you called it?" Gabriel asked. So, he also remembered that tidbit about magic their daughter had shared.
"And the school brooms were, according to you, for the most part in a deplorable state," she reminded Hermione.
"Those are bad because they were cheap and used hard in Quidditch," Harry said. "Dad only used this broom for a few years and only one season in Quidditch. And we polish and check the bristles and spells every year."
Hermione nodded. "I've flown both - they're in excellent shape."
"Compared to the flying deathtraps at school?" Gabriel asked.
Hermione actually blushed a little. "They're not that bad," she protested. "And I didn't know too much about brooms when I said that."
"Hermione, admitting ignorance?" Gabriel chuckled again. "You must be honest, then."
"Yes, I am honest." Hermione glared at him.
Harry was hiding a grin himself, Ellen noticed. So, he wasn't blind to her daughter's faults. Good. Teenage relationships were fragile enough without that.
"Now step up! It's time for you to fly!" Hermione put both hands on her hips. Like Ellen's mother when she was stubborn.
Ellen sighed and walked next to the Cleansweep Six on the ground. "That's the newer one, right?"
"Yes. But it was used more often in Quidditch, so it's a little… well, it's still faster and more agile," Harry explained.
"They're basically the same," Hermione chimed in.
Gabriel gave Ellen a look, then stepped to the older one.
Ellen refrained from grimacing in return and sighed.
"No, hold your hand above the broom, as if you're about to catch it when it jumps up since that's what you're about to do, and say 'Up!' in a firm voice," Harry instructed her.
"You have to mean it," Hermione added.
Ellen took a deep breath and held out her hand. She didn't really want to fly, but… she wanted to appear as a hypocrite to Hermione even less. Even if Hermione knew that and was exploiting it rather ruthlessly. But witch or not, her daughter was still a teenager, and Ellen wouldn't cave so easily. And, a small part of her whispered, she would like to fly. She just didn't want to crash. So… "Up!"
The broom jumped up, and she gasped, barely managing to catch it - it actually hurt her a little as it smacked into her palm. But she held it. Felt it… pulling and pushing against her grip. This was magic. A flying broom.
She was smiling, she realised. And so was Gabriel.
"Great!" Harry said. "Now straddle it. Like this." He demonstrated it on his own broom. As did Hermione.
"And don't worry - we'll levitate your clothes, should you fall. I'm covering you, Mum. And Harry's covering Dad."
That was… actually reassuring. And Ellen, sitting on a magic broom, could use the assurance.
"Now, gently, slowly guide the broom up and ahead. At a low angle." Harry didn't tell her how, though.
"Just nudge it - and keep control of the angle of ascent or descent by moving the shaft." Hermione, at least, gave more practical advice. Probably from her own experience.
Ellen held her breath and pulled the shaft's tip up a little. Then she gasped as the broom started to move and her feet left the ground.
She was flying. She was flying. On a broom. This was… this was… Incredible!
"Steady, Mum! Watch the tree!"
Tree? She gasped and pulled on the shaft to avoid the tree in front of her. The broom veered to the left, and she started… rolling?
"Clench your legs!"
"Watch out!"
Too late - she slipped off the broom, dangling from her hands for a moment - checked the height: about two yards - and let go.
She landed in the grass of the Potters' backyard, crouching, while her broom went flying into the woods.
"Accio broom!"
Or not - there it returned to Hermione's hand. "You need to have a firmer grip on the shaft," she told her.
"And you need to use a softer touch," Harry added.
That sounded a little contradictory. She glanced at Gabriel, who was barely a yard high - and floating sideways.
Well, it looked as if this would take a bit more time than they had thought. Still, that moment when she had first flown…
Yes, Ellen knew she wanted to experience that feeling again.
Hermione probably had been counting on that - her daughter could be quite manipulative if she deemed it necessary. But Ellen didn't really mind. Not now, when she was about to fly.
"Up!"
Once more, the broom leapt into her hand. This time, though, she was prepared and caught it easily. And then she was straddling it and pushing off again. And she was flying. Soaring high in the sky… No. Not too high. Gently rising. Gently. Gently…
She clenched her teeth and held on to the shaft, pushing it down. The broom stopped ascending - and started diving.
Fast.
"Watch out, Mum!"
She pulled on the shaft as the ground grew closer and closer, and the broom finally followed suit - but she ended up pulling to the side, and she rolled again.
This time, she didn't manage to stick the landing. But she didn't break or hurt anything other than her pride as she rolled through the grass.
Gabriel was still floating about a foot from the ground, flying backwards now.
Hermione sighed. "Well, Dad needs to be more… forceful. And you need to be less."
"I noticed," Ellen retorted in the driest tone she could manage while brushing grass clumps off her clothes.
"Let me!" Hermione said. A moment later, all the grass and dirt fell off. "There!" She moved her wand, and the broom flew towards them.
Ellen got up again.
"This is…" Ellen Granger shook her head, almost gaping at the sight.
"Great, isn't it?" Hermione asked next to her.
"Yes." And it was. She must be about five hundred feet high - and the view was spectacular. The village below her, the small patches of forests, the rolling hills in the distance… "And the people below won't see us?"
"Not above this area," Hermione told her. "It's covered with spells, like Hogwarts."
"Ah." That was slightly disturbing. "So, if I leave the airspace above the house and the yard, I can't find it any more?"
"Ah…"
Ellen turned her head - and only her head; she kept the broom steady. "You don't know?"
"We didn't test that. I should've considered it." Hermione pursed her lips. "Sorry, Mum."
Well, Ellen knew Wizarding Britain wasn't very accommodating to muggles. But to think how they messed with your mind… She hated that. But it wasn't Hermione's fault. So she smiled. "Well, I'd rather not test it up in the air."
"Yes." Hermione grimaced.
"But it's still incredible," Ellen admitted. "The freedom…"
"And Dad got the hang of it as well," her daughter commented, pointing down.
Gabriel was flying about two hundred feet below them, doing lazy eights was the name of the figures, Ellen thought.
"Harry's teaching him a Quidditch search pattern."
"Ah?"
"Yes. The Seeker uses that while looking for the Snitch."
Ellen nodded. She didn't get the rules - they were, Hermione had agreed, asinine. But she could see the appeal of the game, now that she was flying a broom herself. Still… "I hope you aren't planning to make us play the game."
Hermione laughed. "Oh, no! That would be… I'm not going to dodge Bludgers myself, after all."
"Good."
"Although it would be good training for evasive flying..."
She knew that tone. "Hermione, there are safer ways to train that."
"Yes, Mum. Although there'll be a Quidditch game on Harry's birthday."
"Here?" Ellen looked down. Perhaps a temporary field or something?
"No, they'll be playing at the Weasleys'. They have a pitch."
So it was called a pitch. Good to know. "That's generous of the Weasleys," Ellen commented. She realised that she and Gabriel would have to buy a birthday gift for Harry as well. And not a cheap one - not after his godfather's planned gift to Hermione.
"It's been Ron's birthday gift for Harry for years," Hermione explained. "The Weasleys are not rich, but they're an old pureblood family, and they have a private Quidditch pitch."
"Ah." They sounded like impoverished gentry. Probably a touchy subject.
"So, what do you think of brooms now?" Hermione asked. She was smiling innocently, but Ellen knew her daughter.
"It's great. Though I also remember you telling us that wizards and witches would be flying much faster on the same brooms." And they wanted to buy even faster brooms.
"Yes, but we also have more training and experience - flying is a subject at school," Hermione replied.
Ellen looked at her until she squirmed a little. Then Ellen nodded. "Yes, I can understand the appeal. We might even look into buying some used brooms for ourselves," she said with a smile.
Hermione blinked, apparently not sure whether or not Ellen was joking.
To be fair, Ellen wasn't sure either. "Would that even be legal?"
"Ah… I'm not sure." Hermine would be berating herself for not knowing this, Ellen knew. "I don't remember a law against it, but… the Statute of Secrecy might be threatened - or so the wizarding authorities might presume - if muggles fly around on brooms. They're very concerned about keeping magic a secret."
"We're aware of that." Every time they travelled to Wizarding Britain, in fact. But Ellen was also aware just how great this world that her daughter had entered years ago was - if you were a witch or wizard. She and Gabriel would have to adapt if they didn't want to lose their daughter.
Because whether with Harry or someone else, Hermione would be living in this world.
Hogwarts, July 23rd, 1996
"It feels weird, entering Hogwarts in the summer," Hermione Granger commented as they walked up to the gate. She looked around - there were no disillusioned people hiding nearby, but they could easily stay outside the range of her spell.
"Yes," Harry agreed. He was looking around as well.
They should be safe - no one should know they would visit the school, after all. But if someone had spotted them in Hogsmeade and deduced that they were heading to Hogwarts...
"It's Hogwarts." Mrs Potter tapped the gate with her wand. "Whether it's summer or not."
"Mum! You're not a student any more. It's not the same," Harry told her. "You should be used to this. But for us? An empty school?"
Hermione nodded. Hogwarts without students milling around wasn't really Hogwarts.
"Lily! Harry! Miss Granger!"
And there came Professor Hagrid.
"Hagrid!" Mrs Potter smiled at the huge man.
"Here ta see Dumbledore, right?"
"He's expecting us, yes."
"Come in!" He pulled the massive gate open as easily as Hermione would open a door. "And the heroes of the hour!"
She felt herself blush. Heroes?
"We just did what we had to," Harry told the man.
"Yes," Mrs Potter sounded slightly annoyed.
"Nonsense! You are heroes!" Professor Hagrid insisted. "I don't know anyone who coulda done the same at your age." Then he frowned. "But did you have to kill the poor Wyvern? They didn't know any better!"
Ugh. Hermione grimaced. Of course the professor would focus on that.
"We had no choice," Harry told him. "It was trying to eat us. Several times. It just didn't let go."
"That's a wyvern fer ya. Stubborn to a fault - like dragons, but worse. But that's not their fault!"
That would be a poor comfort for anyone eaten by the monster. But Hermione held her tongue as they walked to the castle proper. She didn't want to start an argument. They were here to see Dumbledore, after all. To talk about another interview. Or an article.
Fortunately, Hagrid was more interested in talking to Mrs Potter than to them as they walked through empty hallways. Although that might be because he might resent them at least a little for killing the Wyvern.
"I hope Luna won't hold this against us," Harry whispered next to her, echoing her thoughts.
She nodded. It was creepy how different the school looked - and sounded - with no one around. In broad daylight, at least - she had sneaked around the school past curfew often enough to know, but it still felt different.
And then the gargoyle let them through - the password was 'Milky Way' - and Mrs Potter led them up to the Headmaster's office while Professor Hagrid returned to his hut or office - presumably to care for his animals.
"Ah, Lily, Harry, Miss Granger. Please have a seat." Dumbledore waved his wand as soon as they stepped into his office, and three chairs appeared.
Hermione eyed them. They looked different as well. More comfortable, for once. So…
"You are not here because you broke a rule," the Headmaster explained with a smile. "So, you can enjoy more comfortable chairs."
"Ah, right." Harry nodded, then blushed when Mrs Potter glared at him.
Hermione fought a blush of her own. "That shouldn't happen any more."
"Once Mr Malfoy accepts that you have changed, you mean," Dumbledore said,
"Yes." The blush won the struggle.
Mrs Potter sighed. "You don't have to hex Malfoy and break school rules."
"Defending ourselves isn't breaking any rules," Hermione told her. "I looked it up." Years ago, actually.
"Provided you are defending yourself," the Headmaster said, his smile not wavering, "and not retaliating. Or launching a preemptive strike. It is only self-defence if an attack is ongoing or imminent."
"I won't let Malfoy hex me to make a point," Harry blurted out. "He points his wand at me, he gets a hex to the face."
Or to another part of his body. Hermione firmly nodded.
"Harry! Hermione!" Mrs Potter all but hissed.
"Oh, I doubt we can ask more of you," the Headmaster said. "Actions have consequences, and Mr Malfoy's actions over the years have resulted in him acquiring a slightly unfortunate reputation."
Hermione didn't smile in satisfaction at the comment, but she certainly felt like it. The git should've stopped bothering them long ago.
"As did your actions." Mrs Potter's comment made Hermione frown.
"That's different!" Harry protested, turning to frown at his mother.
"How is it different?"
"Malfoy kept bothering us even though he never got us. Almost never, at least," Harry explained. "That's just stupid."
Hermione was forced to agree again, even though Mrs Potter certainly disagreed.
The Headmaster, though, chuckled. "Lily, I am sure you remember another band of, shall we say, rambunctious students who often visited my office."
"Yes."
Oh. Mr Potter and his friends. Hermione wasn't certain if she should feel flattered by the comparison or not.
"However, I think we have a different topic to discuss than the next school year. A more serious topic," the Headmaster went on.
"Yes." Hermione nodded. "We'd like to use our fifteen minutes of fame to oppose piracy and slavery. Effectively oppose them."
"Well, I would say you already opposed them quite effectively by dealing with a band of pirates, but I know what you mean." The Headmaster leaned back. "And you've already prepared the ground, so to speak, with your interview."
"We hope so. We want to help you gather public support," Hermione told the Headmaster.
Harry Potter nodded. "Against pirates and slavers." Which were one and the same most often.
"To increase the pressure on the Ottomans, I suppose." Dumbledore nodded. "A noble goal. However, when trying to influence the public, there is always the risk of succeeding a little too well."
Harry frowned. What was he… Oh. "You mean starting a war?"
The Headmaster smiled at him. "Precisely! I would award you points if we were in class."
"But would Wizarding Britain actually go to war over this?" Hermione leaned forward. "Everyone we talked to was adamant in wanting to avoid a war."
Well, they hadn't talked to too many other people, but that didn't mean Hermione was wrong.
"It is not very likely - people remember the last war, and some remember Grindelwald's War - but neither should we dismiss the possibility," Dumbledore said. "It has been almost fifteen years since the Blood War ended; almost an entire generation has grown up with only faint memories of it - and no personal experience. Further, the Blood War pitched British wizards and witches against each other. A war against the Ottomans would lack that particular horror. Not to mention that I am quite certain that many of our compatriots might not be entirely objective when comparing themselves to the Ottomans."
"You mean they overestimate themselves and underestimate the Ottomans," Hermione blurted out.
"Indeed. Hearing how two students fought and defeated an entire band of pirates will not have helped matters, I'm afraid."
Oh. Harry winced.
"Yes. I'm sure some of James's Aurors would jump at the chance, thinking they can walk all over Janissaries and experienced pirates," Mum said with a scowl.
"That matches what I have heard myself," Dumbledore said, "when I visited the Ministry yesterday. Even a few members of the Wizengamot, who really should know better, proclaimed their opinion that a war with the Barbary Coast, or even the entire Ottoman Empire, would be a walk in the park." He smiled. "I am afraid that you might have given our fellow British wizards and witches a somewhat misleading impression of the Barbary Coast pirates' competency."
"But…" Hermione shook her head. "It was you who conquered the pirate port - and with the help of another crew of Barbary Coast sailors!"
"And your friends," Harry added. This was stupid. Or insane.
"That is the truth - but then, it is also true that you successfully sank their ship, killed their wyvern - and I can guarantee that almost everyone in the Ministry has, by now, seen the trophy you brought back - and broke a captive out of their prison before escaping the island." Dumbledore spread his hands. "And, unfortunately and rather unfairly, some prominent members of the Wizengamot prefer to assume that your outstanding deeds are not an indication of your skill and bravery, but rather proof of the lack of either amongst the pirates."
Harry winced. He hadn't expected that. Not at all.
"So, does that mean that we don't need to give another interview to drum up support for a more forceful stance against piracy and slavery?" Hermione asked.
"I would not say that, my dear," Dumbledore replied with a slight sigh. "While many examples of prominent British wizards and witches are currently comparing themselves in rather flattering and sometimes almost delusional ways to you two, that does not mean they are overly concerned about the pirates since they have not been a threat to British shores in decades."
"And if we do show just how vile the pirates and their trade are, all the fools will push straight for war." Mum looked grim.
"I do think cooler heads would prevail since most members of the Wizengamot recall the Blood War's horrors, but I've been wrong before. And I fear that Cornelius, while certainly not a warmonger, is a little too concerned with what he thinks the people want. I can very well see him trying to set his mark in history, so to speak, with a short victorious war. Especially if urged on by some of his more foolish friends as well as the French and Spaniards."
Hermione grimaced at that. As did Mum.
"Then what can we do?" Harry asked. "We can't just do nothing and wait until everyone has forgotten about this." That would mean more victims like Céline.
"That is a good question. How much are we willing to risk? Should war break out, I am reasonably sure that we will ultimately prevail, but we will suffer losses in war, even in victory. And it will not be a short war. Not when the Ottomans' control over the Barbary Coast is tenuous at best, and anything that can be seen as a surrender would lose them the province for sure - which might cost the Sultan his position and life. And the pirates will move to prey upon our shores, and all the other shores within reach, once they think that they have nothing left to lose and that the main part of our forces are attacking their homes."
The Headmaster was looking at them, his eyebrows slightly raised. He couldn't expect them to actually make that decision, could he? They were students, not politicians. They couldn't just risk the entire country like that! No, this was just a hypothetical question.
Harry shook his head. "We can't… we can't start a war. Not like this." Not when the people who would be fighting in it had no idea what they were doing.
"But we can't let fear of a war keep us from doing something about piracy and slavery," Hermione Granger protested. They couldn't just let this go on. More poor children captured, like Céline, while they stayed safe in Britain? They had to do something. "You can talk to the Minister, can't you?"
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I can and do so. But Cornelius is… not the most stubborn man. He can somewhat easily be swayed by those who know him and his weaknesses."
"'Weaknesses'?" Hermione cocked her head.
"Bribes and flattery," Mrs Potter replied with a scowl.
"Oh."
"Cornelius is no Amelia Bones, but he is hardly the worst Minister I've known. However, as I said before, he almost certainly would overestimate our power and underestimate the enemy." Dumbledore sighed.
"But you can rectify it, can't you?" Hermione insisted.
"I shall most certainly try my best."
That should be enough then - he was Dumbledore, after all. Hermione nodded. "So, the risk of a war breaking out wouldn't be too great."
"That depends on your view of what would be too great. Is it certain? No. Likely? I think not. But it cannot be dismissed as impossible." The Headmaster leaned back, folding his hands on his belly. "I do think that this will require a most careful approach. And even so, things might get out of hand through no fault of our own."
"Skeeter," Harry hissed.
"Correct. Or people like her riling up the population for their own goals." The Headmaster sighed. "And France would certainly do what they could to fan the flames - the French have dreamt of finishing the Barbary Coast once and for all for decades. Unlike our compatriots, they are, however, quite aware of the price they would have to pay in a war, and that knowledge has stayed their wand. However, if Britain would join them, or lead the charge…" He tilted his head.
Hermione clenched her teeth. They had to do something! "What do you suggest?" she asked.
"What we need is a way to impress upon our fellow British wizards and witches how serious the situation is. They need less riling up, so to speak, than information."
"But…" She bit her lower lip. "The truth about piracy and slavery could rile them up." It should, at least - how could any decent man or woman tolerate such a crime against humanity?
"Which is why it needs to be tempered with the truth about war." The Headmaster nodded. "The horror of it, the pain and suffering, lasting years and decades past the war's end…" he shook his head. "I would not wish this upon anyone."
"It's still not certain that there would be a war," Hermione protested. "How great would the risk be, anyway?"
"I must confess that I lack the talent at Divination to calculate the exact odds - if that's even possible. However, the threat of war certainly isn't negligible. And there's the danger that the Barbary Coast leaders, such as the Bey of Algiers, and even the Ottomans might call us out - calling out our bluff, so to speak."
But is it a bluff? Hermione wondered. "And if war is the only way to end the pirate raids?" Hermione asked. "What if we either have to fight a bloody war or accept that every year, pirates will raid the coasts? How many people end up kidnapped, traumatised, every year? How many won't be ransomed because they're too poor - or are muggleborns no one would miss? How many will we sacrifice?"
"Too many by far," Harry chimed in.
"But is it worth a war?" The Headmaster spread his hands again. "The French would say yes. But then, their coasts are the ones getting raided while ours remain secure."
"That's not a fair comparison," Mrs Potter objected. "The only reason that our shores are safe is that they fear you, Albus."
Shouldn't that be enough to make the Ottomans cave in? If they feared Dumbledore and knew that France and Britain, and likely Spain, would back him in a war…
"And yet, while fear is holding them back from our shores, desperation would drive them to attack us if only to spite me. It is a fine line that we have to walk."
And a single misstep might result in a war. "But we can't just do nothing and let this go on." She bit her lower lip in frustration.
"And we will not," the Headmaster replied. "But we need to be aware of the risk we will take."
He meant them - Harry and her - of course. Dumbledore was certainly aware of the risks. Of course, as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, he had decades of experience in these matters.
"So, this will require a delicate touch - and fine control. Which is, since we are talking about the press as well as public opinion, quite the challenge." He smiled. "It is fortunate that it happened during the summer; I would dread having to do this in the autumn."
When the school year would have started.
Mrs Potter sighed. "You'll be handling this, then."
"I shall try my best."
Hermione was both relieved and disappointed. But mostly relieved.
Grimmauld Place, London, Britain, July 23rd, 1996
"...and that was it, basically." Harry Potter shrugged as he finished telling Sirius about their visit to Hogwarts.
"The Headmaster made a very compelling argument about the risks inherent in any attempt to push for a more forceful stance against the Barbary Coast," Hermione added from her part of the couch in the 'salon' of Sirius's home.
"So… we won't be leading a charge up the beaches of Algiers any time soon?" Sirius asked with a grin. "And I was so looking forward to it after hearing about your infiltration of the pirate port."
Harry glared at him. This wasn't a joking matter. Not that that would stop Sirius.
"We're not going to give up. We're just… proceeding with more caution. And under the Headmaster's direction," Hermione said with a frown.
"And you're only giving interviews," Sirius told her. "You're not going to head off to fight pirates."
"Of course not!" Harry said. Sirius couldn't be thinking that they would be so foolish, could he? Then again, Sirius had grown up during the Blood War and joined the Order of the Phoenix at the first opportunity.
"Why does everyone think we want to fight pirates again?" Hermione asked.
"We don't," Sirius told her. "But it doesn't hurt checking, does it? You're not the kind of idiots who will do something just because they are told not to do it."
"Of course not!" Hermione firmly nodded.
Harry nodded as well, though he remembered a few embarrassing incidents that might fit Sirius's comment. But those had been years ago. He had learned his lesson.
"You were told not to attack each other several times," Sirius said.
"That's different!" Harry protested. "We didn't attack each other because we were told not to - we did it for revenge."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "A perfectly understandable reason."
Sirius laughed, even though it wasn't funny.
"That's over, anyway," Harry said. "We just want to be safe when we return to Hogwarts. And afterwards."
"And for that, we need training and some supplies." Hermione pulled out a sheet - her list. "Defensive supplies."
"Some say the best defence is a strong offence," Sirius commented.
"Well, few devices or spells are completely defensive in nature," Hermione admitted.
"Some are also plain fun," Sirius cut in with a grin.
Hermione frowned. "We've convinced my parents that brooms aren't a frivolity. They like flying."
They liked it eventually, in Harry's opinion. Mrs Granger had taken to it quite quickly and stubbornly, very much like Hermione herself, but Mr Granger had flown so close to the ground most of the time, he could have stood on the grass just by putting his feet down. Well, he had been flying higher at the end, at least.
"Ah! So, we should shop for three brooms!" Sirius beamed.
"They'll buy their own brooms," Hermione said and pursed her lips. "They don't need a high-performance broom. In fact, I doubt they could handle it."
"Why? They're muggles. The brooms will fly slower and more sluggish anyway for them."
"They aren't used to flying at all," Hermione replied. "Best to start them with a decent, ah, family broom. And they can buy one at a later date."
Sirius frowned in return. "Might as well buy a used broom at that."
"That is the plan, yes."
"Well, if you insist…" Sirius shrugged. "Anyway, so, we'll only get you a decent broom, then."
"A good broom," Harry said. "Not just a decent one."
"That's what I mean." Sirius grinned again. "But with that settled, and your plans to lead a crusade against the Barbary Coast temporarily on hold, that leaves us with nothing to do than training!"
Harry rolled his eyes at the weak joke - Sirius really didn't know when to let it go - but stood up at once. "Yes."
"To the duelling salle!"
Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 23rd, 1996
"So, we've mastered the Disillusionment Charm," Harry said, looking at the ceiling above his bed. They should be sleeping - it was late, and they would be meeting their friends tomorrow - but he still felt a little...keyed up. Or something.
"Yes. And worked on dodging." Hermione replied next to him as she shifted a little, her mane of hair brushing over his side as she turned to look at him.
He turned his head to face her - the light from the sky outside was just bright enough to make out her face. "Which needs more work."
She snorted, and he saw she was frowning.
"And you're doing well," he told her.
"I didn't get duelling lessons for years."
"Yes." There wasn't anything to add there. Hermione knew the theory, and she had practised hard at Hogwarts - she had held her own during the fights with the pirates - but she hadn't had Harry's training, and he knew that it was a sore spot for her. "But things are going well."
"According to plan, mostly," she agreed. "But…" She sighed. "I understand the Headmaster's arguments."
"But you don't like it." Harry didn't like it, either.
"No, I don't. I wish we could do more."
"Me too." But they couldn't. The stories notwithstanding, they were two students who had just taken their O.W.L.s. They had been quite lucky on that island.
But they hadn't been just lucky. Harry knew that, as did Hermione.
And they could do more than just repeating what the Headmaster wanted them to say when asked by a reporter. They just needed to find out what exactly they could do. Eventually.
But not right now.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his side.
And he watched her fall asleep.
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, July 24th, 1996
"Hail the conquering hero!"
"The conquering heroes, brother! We wouldn't want anyone feeling left out!"
"Indeed, brother! We wouldn't want to anger people who crushed entire pirate ships under their heels!"
Hermione Granger rolled her eyes. After five years in the same House as Fred and George Weasley, she was familiar with their antics. That didn't mean she liked them, of course. They were annoying even if she discounted the fact that they had interfered in her and Harry's… rivalry until they had learned better.
"Very funny," Harry told them in a tone dripping with sarcasm.
"It seems they are annoyed," probably-Fred said.
"You're correct about that," she told them.
"Oh, no! We have failed!"
"Please do not crush us!"
She pressed her lips together as Harry sighed. Where were the rest of the Weasleys? And Lavender? Ron had sent them a letter, asking to meet at his home. Had the twins done that? For some prank? If they had, they would regret it. Hermione wasn't in any mood to tolerate their antics. People could get killed through such stupidity.
"Fred! George! Don't bother our guests!"
Ah, here came Mrs Weasley. Hermione smiled at the witch entering the living room from the garden.
"We weren't, Mum!"
"Just being friendly!"
"Please excuse them; it's my fault," Mrs Weasley told them. "I should have known they wouldn't visit on a whim. Not after they barely visited for weeks since they moved out."
"Mum! We're working hard to start our business!"
"Your joke shop. Which you stocked with products you developed and made while you were at Hogwarts." Mrs Weasley scoffed. "You should've ample time to visit your family."
"Harry! Hermione!"
"Hermione! Harry!"
Ron and Lavender waved from the door. Harry and Hermione joined them, and they stepped outside.
"Sorry, we didn't realise it was already so late," Ron said. "We've been dealing with particularly stubborn gnomes who kept returning to the garden." He pointed at the patch of vegetables in the corner.
"Possibly a new species of gnomes. Or a new species masquerading as gnomes. Or the result of a curse on the yard. Oh. Hi, Harry. Hi, Hermione."
Luna. Hermione winced. She should've expected that the girl would be present - Luna had a gift to surprise people with her presence. And she also shared Hagrid's view of dangerous animals. Namely, that there weren't any dangerous animals, only misunderstood ones. "Hi, Luna."
"Hi." Harry looked a little apprehensive as well. "How have you been doing?"
"Well…" Luna cocked her head sideways. "I haven't been whisked away to a dragon sanctuary masquerading as a pirate island, which is kind of a bother for an aspiring reporter such as myself, but otherwise, I am doing well."
"'A dragon sanctuary'?" Harry asked.
"Yes, of course. You realised this, right? The way the 'pirates' only stuck to a small part of the island and left the rest to the wyvern is a dead giveaway. Or was a dead giveaway. Now it's only dead. The wyvern, that is. Or was."
Hermione grimaced. Yes, Luna wasn't happy about the dead wyvern. Not at all.
"How so?" Harry obviously hadn't realised that yet.
"If they had been actual pirates, they would have forced the wyvern into a cave protecting their treasure. They certainly wouldn't have let it freely roam the island - pirates aren't like that, as you should know."
"They acted like pirates," Hermione pointed out. "We saved one of their prisoners and found the remains of another:"
"The villagers probably depended on actual pirates to receive supplies since no one else knew about the sanctuary. Which also explains why there was only one wyvern and not more dragons. Or they were in the process of setting up the sanctuary, and the wyvern was the first creature to arrive."
"It was there for a long time - for decades, at least," Harry objected.
"Such delays are normal for a government project." Luna leaned in and lowered her voice. "It's because of all the corruption, you know. It's far easier to skim gold off the budget while a project is still in the process of being built, so the longer it takes to finish a project, the more money can be ferreted away - not that actual ferrets would steal money; that's pure propaganda, possibly started by foxes.
"'Foxes'?" Hermione asked before she could help herself.
"Shapeshifting foxes. The Japanese call them kitsune and think they are spirits, but that's just another ruse. Foxes are very cunning, you know. Slytherin earned their eternal enmity for not picking them as his House's animal."
"Ah." Hermione nodded.
"Very interesting," Harry said.
"Not as interesting as your adventures, of course." Luna smiled at them. "And that you finally realised all your aggression was just suppressed desire! I should have made that bet with Marietta, after all."
"What?" Hermione blinked. A bet? Suppressed desire?
"I told Marietta two years ago that you didn't actually hate each other but that you were just too immature to express your feelings in any other way when you were younger and then got stuck in a rut." Once more, Luna leaned in. "That happens when you focus too much on something, to the exclusion of everything else. Some people never manage getting out of that, and they end up Ministry bureaucrats."
Immature? Stuck in a rut? Hermione frowned. That was absolutely wrong! She opened her mouth to tell Luna just how wrong she was but noticed how Ron and Lavender were nodding in agreement with the girl.
"We weren't immature," Harry protested.
"Mate," Ron told him. "We were first years. Everyone's immature in their first year."
She couldn't exactly object to that without sounding immature now. But she so wanted to.
"It's good that you finally grew up," Luna told them with a beaming smile. "We were getting worried."
Hermione couldn't, for the life of her, tell if this was Luna's revenge on them for killing a wyvern or if the girl was genuinely concerned. Of course, with Luna, it could easily be both.
Great.