So they're in Greece and the Harry Potter Factor still found them. Poor Hermione. Poor Dumbledore, too, with his cursed arm. Perhaps he'll find a way to stave off that curse in this section…
I have never been to Greece. All of this is out of my head and google. I really wish I could go, but well... life, money, and stuff. I've set up the touristy parts as I've noticed other archaeological digs are set up (I based a lot of Dodoni on the Roman Fort I went to in Britain a few years back). But I've no idea if it's anything like I've drawn it. Alas.
Part I Can't Count This High (6?)
~~ this is a scene break ~~
By the time they had just about got back to the bungalow, Hermione's analytical brain had gone through what had happened at Dodoni. Her parents had been a bit concerned about how upset the younger couple had been when they found each other before leaving the site. The beginning of the drive was tense silence as Hermione went through what happened again, in greater detail. Then, she sighed heavily.
"You know, I think I remember reading that a lot of the gods and goddesses used snakes as messengers. As a parslemouth, it would be natural for you to put a message from gods into the language of the snakes."
"Oh, honey, I don't think Harry actually got a message from any deity," Bianca chimed from the front seat.
"Ten years ago, we though magic was tosh," Jason replied.
"Well, what I've read about the oracle – it was a sacred oak next to a sacred stream. The mother of Aphrodite, a Dione, was also worshipped there? Gave prophecy or advice?..." Bianca muttered as she leafed through the book she'd purchased while visiting the site.
"My vision had the oak still there. The priest woman – she made me light a small bundle of oak and olive branches. I don't think I over-powered the incendio, but it was so bright I had to close my eyes. Then, when I opened them again, this … well, goddess is all I can think to call her – she was definitely not human or any magical race I've been exposed to. Even veela don't glow like she did. Her voice wasn't a voice so much as power…" his own voice trailed off as his eyes stared out the window, unseeing.
"What did she say, if you don't mind sharing?" Jason asked.
Harry sighed.
"It was something about child of fate – I think that's me since the priest woman called me that – and two men who were two sides of a coin fighting and making everything fall apart unless the auguries are cleansed. I've written it down, but it's in parsel and I kind of want to let it simmer for a bit if you don't mind."
Hermione did mind, very much, thank you. But a glance from her mother stilled her tongue. It was very much Harry's problem, and he'd come to her when he was ready. He always did.
They returned to the bungalow and decided to dine in. Dobby prepared a light meal of fish and some other local favorites he'd learned to cook. The mood was slightly tense at first, but by the second round of ouzo (the kids stopped at one), they were relaxed again.
If Hogwarts had taught the kids anything, it was to enjoy the peace between the emergencies. They both put the words from the oracle in the back of their minds. They had enough other problems to deal with, after all. Prophecies were nebulous; supposed friends who poisoned you were all too real and threatening. And they'd not found a way to stop potions yet.
Infrequently, Harry's luck pointed him in a fortunate direction. He'd been reading the family grimoires for days - mostly at night, when the Granger family seemed to prefer reading as a pass-time. In the Potter grimoire he found many spells for things he'd no need to master (how to harden mud without cracking it? How to geld a bull painlessly? - though he pondered if he should use that one on Malfoy, just to make it so there would be no more Malfoys). His favorite so far was a spell to keep your toenails perfectly groomed. That had been from his great granduncle who apparently had something of a foot fetish. Though he'd learned much about his Potter ancestors and what kind of magic they preferred (the warding sections in particular were riveting), there hadn't been a great deal of practical magic.
The paranoid Black family, however, had useful spells aplenty. They were all sitting around the living room area of the bungalow, reading, when Harry found something very interesting.
"Hermione," he interrupted her own reading, "can you take a look and see if this does what I think it does?"
"Do you think I can read it at all?" Hermione bit her lip, wondering if Harry – who had the right blood – holding the book would be enough to protect her and allow her to read it. Harry shrugged.
"I don't know. Do you want to try? Just glance. If it's at all confusing or it hurts, look away, yeah?"
It probably wasn't the smartest idea, but it was a book, and Hermione was beyond tempted.
Hermione peered over his shoulder, careful not to touch the Black family book or even Harry, who was holding it. She smiled. "Yep, I can read it. And what did you want me to look at?" He pointed out a section and her eyes widened. "It looks like you can tie enchantments into metal that will allow you to detect potions. There are apparently several black family rings that do this, and one bracelet?"
"What do you say we go to the magical market tomorrow, you know, the one where you got your brush? We can pick up a few metal bands or rings and enchant them with this."
The relief he saw in her eyes made his heart hurt. He knew that she was very worried about all the potions they'd been poisoned with in the past. This would help both of them immeasurably.
"A way to protect her from potions?" Jason nodded, "Sounds good, but not something you can do tonight. It's getting pretty late. Maybe you two can talk more about this tomorrow?"
Harry looked up and nodded. But as he walked back to his bedroom, he kept his grimoires in his hand.
After getting ready for sleep, Harry sat in the chair in his comfortable room and resumed skimming the Black grimoire. They were a horrifically paranoid bunch! Eventually, he found another spell for personal warding. It would block most compulsions and mind magics. He noted that there was a caveat written in another hand that this spell had to be renewed weekly, at a minimum, due to the changing nature of a living creature. He sighed, thinking that it was a shame, and then bolted up.
He picked up the Potter grimoire and thumbed to something he had read weeks previously. Maelgwn Potter had devised a way to take useful spells and imbue them into physical objects. The more noble base the object, the better the enchantment held. Silver, gold or mithril would work.
His Potter ancestors, apparently, did a little alchemy.
Harry could enchant something and not have to worry about how quickly he mastered occlumency. (Though now that he'd been healed, his exercises were building his shields efficiently, if at a normal pace.) An amulet would be best to hold this spell as a necklace would be closer to the eyes, just as a ring or bracelet was better for the potion detector, since potions were usually delivered in food or drink.
The next morning, he forced himself to run on the beach since Hermione was still asleep when he got up. By the time he got back, she was up and doing some yoga with her mother on the balcony. When he'd cleaned up, he figured they would be done, and he really wanted Hermione's opinion on what he'd found.
"Hey," he returned to the dining area with his family magic books. "Can you look at these for me, see if they will blend like I think they will?"
He held the Black grimoire open to the page for personal warding, pointing out what it did. "Oh, that will be nice. We can cast it on each other!"
"Yeah," he nodded, "but I was thinking about applying it on this," He pointed out the spell store incantation in the Potter grimoire, but Hermione's nose wrinkled.
"What's that gibberish?" she asked.
"It's not! It clearly says," he looked down, "sss-thsss-ss-thththhhhhh," he stopped when he noticed her pale face and shallow breathing. "What?" he demanded.
"You were speaking Parseltongue again, not English…" her voice wandered off and then her eyes widened, "Holy cricket! That's just like when we were at Dodoni."
"Really? Huh!" His brow furrowed. No wonder the Potter grimoire was so much easier to read than the Black one. That one went from ancient English to Olde English to French to modern English, and most of it he could barely read without his adventurer kit glasses. This one, apparently, stayed in snake the whole time. And it was apparently one of the ways Potters used to hide their important writings – like family magics and prophecies.
"Guess I didn't get it from Voldie, after all…" Harry mused. He laughed then.
"What's funny?"
"I'm just imagining that old wanker dumping my blood into this book, hoping to gain my family magics, and then being stumped by the Parseltongue."
He was almost stunned when Hermione laughed, too, instead of getting on him for calling Dumbledore a wanker. Then again, to Hermione, integrity was all. And it seemed, really, that Dumbledore had none.
"Today is our last full day here," Hermione's mother mentioned as she came back into the kitchen from her bath. "We're staying overnight in Thessaloniki tomorrow night before we fly out the day after. Is there anything you two want to do today or tomorrow morning? I know you mentioned the market," Bianca asked.
"Besides that bracelet to detect potions, Harry thinks he can enchant some necklaces to help protect our minds. So we need to go to the markets," Hermione declared.
"I'd like to get some souvenirs, also," Harry mentioned, "but otherwise, I thought I'd use the afternoon to enchant the charms."
"Will you channel a lot of magic when you do that? This bungalow is muggle…"
"Hmm, hadn't thought of that," Harry murmured. "I guess I should probably wait until we get back under the wards of the Grange, then."
The teens made their way back to the magical enclave. The young couple strolled hand-in-hand through the open magical market. Harry purchased some hair clips for Bianca and a bottle of tsipouro for Jason. He got a comb and brush for himself from the same vendor that sold Hermione her brush and she laughed, agreeing he needed it as much as she did. He saw her eyeing a few different hair scarves and put two of them in his purchases when she wasn't looking – something to remind her of this time they spent together.
She bought them both a Greek coffee and some kourabiedes. Then they strolled more and found a jewelry vendor. Hermione loved the idea of occlumency necklaces and insisted she purchase her own, as well as her own bracelet. This particular vendor had some mithril available, so Hermione bought a chain (while Harry bought a more masculine dragon leather cord). They bought several mithril amulets depicting different Greek deities or historical figures that they both liked, making sure they were mithril and hadn't been enchanted previously. They also found bracelets in the forms of snakes, in honor of the Potter family secret (though, if anyone asked, they'd say it was because the Greek symbol of healing was the snake), and again Hermione bought a prettyish one for herself while Harry purchased a more masculine one for himself.
Late that afternoon, they were alone on their hidden section of the beach. They sat side by side, looking over the brilliant Ionian Sea, sad that they would be leaving it the next day. He held her hand and stroked her palm almost absently. Hermione sighed.
"What?" Harry asked, not able to follow her brilliant mind's direction.
"This year is going to be miserable. I mean, it was bad enough when I was just your best friend. The girls… and some of the boys…" she looked at him sideways and noted his blush rising, "are going to be vexed. I'm going to have to work on shields."
"Well, they only want The Boy Who Lived. I think I can count on my left hand, and have fingers left over, the number of people who are crushing on gawky, stubborn, mopey Harry."
She turned, then lifting one leg over his, she straddled his lap. She looked deep into his eyes with a small smile.
"First year, you were this cute, earnest boy that grabbed everyone's heartstrings," She reached out to play with his hair as his hands settled on her hips. She loved that his brilliant eyes were no longer hidden by glasses. "By the end of second year, they knew you were a bona-fide hero and the crushes grew. By the end of third year, your power was starting to show, and everyone knows that, to magicals, power is an unbelievable aphrodisiac."
"Is that why I got turned on by seeing you slug Malfoy?"
Hermione laughed. "Maybe. But it explains the slavish devotion we seem to have for our powerful leaders, be they Dumbledore or Riddle."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"Now, stop interrupting." Her hands went to his shoulders, and the stern set of her face was belied by the twinkle in her eye. He knew what she was talking about, though, as being in her control with her eyes alight with power forced him to think all sorts of Vernon-on-Petunia-action thoughts in an attempt to keep little Harry little. But even that disgusting scenario wouldn't hold long.
Between her perch on his lap and the power radiating from her, it was all he could do not to snog her senseless.
But they were in public and she wasn't ready for that, he knew. He wasn't, either, truth be told.
"Fourth year, though your hair was an utter crime, you proved to be physically very attractive. And by the end of that year, your power was uncontested. Why do you think so many people signed up for DA, even though you were supposed to be a nutter?"
"My hair's a crime, eh?" He drilled his finger into her side as punishment for that jab.
She continued to play with his hair, dragging her fingers through its wiry thickness. "Mmm, I don't think so. I like it. But then, I'm not one to talk?"
He grasped a bit of her hair and wound it around his finger, smiling. Usually, she kept it up in a tail or braid. But today, it was free, and soft, and calm. The new brush she'd gotten made it different – not so anxious. Or maybe it was because they were on vacation, and there was no pressure or stress – that calm reflected in her hair? He voiced the last thoughts aloud.
"I love your hair. Mostly because it's an early warning system. I think when you get upset, your magic makes it… see… it's doing it now!" He laughed as she growled. "No, seriously, it's pretty. So pretty…" He lost himself just looking at her, smiling at him. She leaned down and kissed him, gently at first, then not so gently.
As she nuzzled her lips into the curve of his neck, nibbling and catching her breath, he breathed in the scent of her. He'd given up on little Harry at this point, but then, she didn't seem to have a problem with it. It was going to be hard (ha ha) to walk back to the bungalow.
"You know," he started. "You keep thinking that everyone's going to be jealous of you. But Hermione, for as observant as you are, you just don't see yourself. Why do you think Krum asked you out?"
She sat up and looked at him quizzically. "Well, I was in the library a lot," she trailed off as he put a finger across her lips, silencing her.
"First year," he began, returning the favor, "it became clear early on that you were, far and wide, the smartest student in the lower years. Not just our year, but probably the three years above us, too. Ravenclaws were totally floored you were a lion. By the end of second year, they began to see the bravery that I'd known about since you set Snape alight. So, so brave, figuring out what the monster was, and trying to find a way around it… and becoming a victim. When my name came out of the goblet, they all understood your unwavering loyalty, realizing second year wasn't just a fluke. When you came to the ball? Holy mother of God, Hermione. There wasn't a girl there who didn't want to rail at how unfair life is. Beautiful, loyal, smart, brave… three of the four houses clearly embodied in you… and then, somehow this year, you were more. Your contract with the DA and the way you routed Umbridge? So clever, so ambitious… so perfect."
She was shaking her head, "Not perfect…"
"No. Just like I'm not perfect. But you are perfect," he leaned in, pulling her close, "for me," he ended on a whisper.
In the end, he did have a hard time walking back, but felt it was totally worth it.
~~ this is a scene break ~~
Once they were back in Britain, the Grangers had a few months left to do day to day work at the surgery. The house had been sold but they still needed to work through the transfer of the practice. Winky had been watching the medical offices and had not seen any more signs of either Dumbledore or Voldemort's people. The Grangers took the smaller car to work and parked in a different area: they figured that would be enough to confuse the magicals if they were watching. Dobby would stay with them most of the day, unless he was running errands for Harry. Though Harry had the anti-scrying ward on his rings, he didn't want to go into any obviously magical areas. Anti-scrying wouldn't stop someone's eyes from recognizing him.
Under the wards of the Grange (where casting magic wouldn't affect muggle devices), Harry cast the Black enchantments on the bracelets. He felt the magic take hold, and to test it he had Winky bring the chocolates that the Weasleys had sent to Hermione (supposedly since her parents wouldn't allow her to buy sweets). Both Harry and Hermione picked up the box and then individual chocolates, feeling how the bracelet gripped and warmed – just slightly for the container, but strongly for the actual food.
"Wow, it's not exactly unpleasant, but there is no way could I ignore that!" Hermione declared as her bracelet warned her of foreign additions to her foodstuffs. Casting the potion reveal spell, Harry determined the presence of draught of attraction, jealousy potion, and aversion potion. He couldn't tell the concentration of any of these, but the bracelet only mildly warned, so he assumed it was a mild dose of each.
Still, to have his suspicions confirmed about his earliest, supposed best friend's family. Well.
It went without saying that, though they had just about two weeks before term started, he and Hermione would not be going to visit at the Burrow.
Putting it out of his mind, he prepared the amulets for the mind shield. The process was no harder than the bracelets had been, and he wasn't tired at all. Perhaps he'd think about enchanting as a possible occupation?
Hermione smiled as she took the pendant from him. "It was brilliant watching you do that. You have a real gift. I bet you could be an enchanter if you wanted, though I know you liked the idea of healing."
Harry smirked. "I was just thinking the same thing. I'm going to gear my electives toward both."
Hermione nodded. "Now that this is done, we should look through the mail held for us while we were in Greece. I'm betting our course selection sheets – and my OWL results – are in there!"
"Oh, please, you know you got straight O's," Harry good-humoredly groused, throwing his arm around her shoulders. She ducked from under him.
"I'd put it out of my head! Now I need to know! Winky?"
"Yes, miss, your post," Winky, ever alert to the needs of her new, kind mistress, smiled and put down a small pile of parchment on the table.
"Thanks, Winky. Say, would you be able to pick up my books and uniforms and school things? I really don't want to go to the alley before school. If you can't…"
Winky snorted. "Winky do, miss. No bad wizards find Miss Hermione on Winky's watch!"
While the two females were speaking, Dobby popped into the room and placed a larger pile of parchment next to Hermione's mail.
"Ahh, my post," Harry said with no enthusiasm. "Thanks Dobby. Everything all right with the Hermione's parents?"
"There be no magics near the doctors, Master Harry, sir. Dobby goes back and keeps watch. Master Harry Potter Sir calls Dobby if Dobby be needed." The frenetic elf popped out again.
Harry looked at the pile and sighed. The number of people he wanted to hear from was tiny. On the top, as he'd arranged, was a listing of the magics that had been removed from the different pieces of mail and the magical signatures, where known.
He was surprised to see a compulsion charm with Arthur Weasley's magical signature. He'd saved the lives of both Ginny and Arthur and they were still trying to subjugate him.
He never thought he'd agree with Malfoy on anything, but the Weasleys really did seem to be bloody traitors!
"Harry! I got all O's – three with distinction!" Hermione looked baffled.
Harry *was* baffled.
"Only three? I think there should be more." Hermione huffed. "What? You're bloody brilliant."
She smiled. "Thank you for saying so. But we were under some stresses last term. It probably affected my performance."
She flipped to the next page of the letter and nibbled her lip, "Look at all these courses to choose from!" Her course selection guide - the third parchment in the bundle from Hogwarts - had the major courses and several electives to choose from, ranging from one term to two years in length. The number of choices was overwhelming to the studious witch.
Harry quickly scanned through several business proposals and made piles of "not a chance," and "maybe." He'd have to find time to talk to Grimsneer. He had his own International OWL results and was quite happy with his above average (though sub-Hermione) scores.
After perusing them for worrisome details, he set aside a missive from Neville (full of mostly nonsense along with his course selections) and Luna (full of wonderful nonsense from her trip with her father. Really, she was such a breath of fresh air!) for re-read. He even read the one from Ron, that had been charmed. It was full of complaints of boredom, railings against the bad luck of Chudley, and an invitation to the burrow or at the least to meet up at Diagon.
Harry rolled his eyes.
Finally, he turned to his Hogwarts letter. The letter for course selection had come the day before they returned. Gringotts had canceled the tracking magic on it, much to Harry's amusement at the thought of Dumbledore's frustrations. When he opened his own missive, he noted that his OWL results were not therein, but his course selection sheet did not have runes on it. Or any of the other electives that were available to Hermione. Shaking his head in frustration, he looked at Hermione's sheet again. This was what he should have had.
Hermione had moved on from her potential course selections (such decisions should not be rushed) to a personal note sent by their head of house.
"I'm still prefect," she stated. "Neville is the other Gryffindor sixth form prefect," she said with a smile.
"Hmm, that's good. He'll do a good job," Harry stated as he made a copy if Hermione's course selection sheet and his international OWLS results.
"What are you doing?" she asked, curiously.
"Well, for some reason, McGonagall has not given me the correct course selection sheet. My OWL results weren't included, so I don't know how the British OWLs went, but I got my international scores, so she should have gotten her copy, too."
Hermione looked at Harry's OWL results and filled with pride. "Oh, Harry, you did so well! An O in Runes? An EE in Arithmancy? Well, I see an A in divination – ironic, that. But you did so, so well! I'm so proud of you!" she gushed. He blushed.
"They're important. Dr. Singh made me realize what you'd been trying to tell me all these years. So, yeah, I did my best. It's not Granger level, but I'm happy with them. I'm not happy with this, though." He indicated his course selection sheet.
Hermione picked up the sheet with his choices – almost no choices at all! – and frowned. She'd thought perhaps her tea with the Deputy Head had some effect; after all, Neville was a prefect! But apparently there was still work to do.
Through much back and forth editing with Hermione (no, Harry, you may not use the phrase, "if you can be arsed to do your job". Passive aggressive is the most aggressive you can get!), he finally had a letter to send with his course selections.
Professor McGonagall,
I hope this letter finds you well and not too overworked for the upcoming year.
Before I get to my course selections, I'd like to address the important stuff. I understand that Madame Umbridge's ban on me playing quidditch currently stands. That is not unexpected. However, my Firebolt is in that castle. I would like it found and turned in to my account manager at Gringotts. They will have it looked over by the manufacturer; I know that you and Professor Flitwick would do the job but I imagine you have enough on your plates.
I did receive your missive with the course availability sheet, but it differs greatly from what Hermione received. I imagine that is because I had a rather poor showing on my British OWLS. I suppose you did not receive the medical excuse and amended International OWL scores (I have attached a certified copy of each for your records). It is strange, as you were the only person I indicated should receive a copy. I received my own copies two weeks ago. All that aside, you can see that I more than qualify for any of the NEWT core or elective classes I wish to take. That being the case, I made a duplicate of Hermione's course selection sheet and indicated my choices.
Please note that I have accepted my family's magic and passed my owls. I am head of my family. I am also paying my own tuition. According to the handbook, you have no grounds to refuse my entry to these classes. If my schedule does not reflect my choices, I will find alternative education. I do not wish to; I love Hogwarts. But I will not stand for anyone second guessing my direction for my future.
Respectfully,
Harry J Potter
Lord Potter
Over the next few days, Dobby and Winky did the shopping in magical London for the pair; Harry didn't really want to risk being seen or tagged by someone from the ministry or by one of the Voldemort's or Dumbledore's flunkeys.
He did stop by the bank to pick up his trunk and attend to business with Grimsneer. Under the wards of the Grange, he made sure that he completely secured his father's trunk to himself and that all of his clothing and possessions had anti-theft charms on them.
He was very tempted to thoroughly go through the belongings stored from Potter Cottage, but at the same time, he wanted to start the new year looking forward, not back. And he wanted to be in the right frame of mind to start meditating for his animagus form.
He and Hermione did go out a few times into the muggle world. He picked up the CD's and tapes from his mother, and he purchased a few more CD's he found he liked.
They had coffee a few more times, hiked in the woods, and snogged in remote places.
But their time of insulation and isolation had to come to an end. It was September.
