A/N: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and anyone that has received licensing rights. I am grateful she gives us the privilege of playing in her world.
Edited and proofed 30 June 22.
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Chapter 10
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August 6, 1996
Little Sark, UK
It was another rainy day. Harry had hoped to go swimming, but he was equally happy to be at the Bakers with Hermione. They had taken over the kitchen table with their new textbooks and many of the other ones they had bought. Harry was expecting to hear back from the ICW any day now. Today, though, he was working on some new assignments for Professor McGonagall, Flitwick and Vector. Hermione had written to them and received some pre-work for the year.
She moved a little closer to him after a rumble of thunder.
"If you want to sit on my lap, you can," he said to her as he scratched away on an equation. He had three arithmancy books open before him, and one advanced runes book. "I won't let the thunder get you."
"Then I would never get this done," she said back. "Besides, I am not afraid of thunder. Why are you using the Runes book for this?"
"It has treatises on some of the constants and how they relate to energy transfer in these calculations on wards. The author is brilliant in how you can construct runic wards this way."
"Really?" she asked, stopping and leaning over. He stopped to smell the fruity smell in her hair. He assumed it was her shampoo. Even if it wasn't, it was distracting. "Where did you get that?" she asked.
"Last summer in Cherbourg. It's in French. I didn't understand half of it until after Christmas when Vector started the section on advanced formula."
She reached over him and his work and picked up the book. "I wasn't using that or anything," he said with a chuckle.
"We can share," she said pushing him back and he moved the chair out so she could sit on his lap. He didn't complain because he was able to wrap his arms around her waist and lean his head against her shoulder. She put her head against his.
He just enjoyed her as she flipped a page. A finger traced along some of the equations and explanations. "Is this really how they derive this?" she queried of him.
"Pretty sure. I haven't used it yet, so I haven't verified it," he told her.
She paused and moved to look at him. "What do you mean you haven't derived it?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Aunt Bel always says you should know where your math comes from. I figure if I can either estimate or actually derive it, I can understand it better."
She blinked at him. Her eyes were intense. "Have I said how much I like like you today?" she put to him before kissing him.
A moment later, she pulled back and took up the book again. "You ever going to tell me what I said?" he asked.
She smirked. "Someday."
He huffed.
She pecked his cheek and then went back to the book. Her Aunt walked into the house. Hermione didn't move, or even look up. Mrs. Baker paused for a moment as she walked through the dining room. Her eyebrow rose and then she continued through. Harry had held her gaze. They weren't doing anything they shouldn't.
After a moment, he let out a long breath.
"What's on your mind?" she asked.
"Who said something was on my mind?"
"I have been studying with you for almost eight months. I can tell when you have something brewing in your head," she told him, not looking up from the book.
He smiled at her. He had been dating her for nine days. He was surprised how well they seemed to get along. "I need to talk to you about something."
Hermione put her finger on the page and looked at her. "Talk about what?" She sounded cautious.
He let out another long breath. "How much do you know about my family?" he asked.
"Mostly what I read. You know you're in a few history books and others?" she asked.
"Yeah, I know. My parents are heroes, not me. That isn't quiet what I wanted to talk about though."
She cocked her head a little. Her eyes narrowed. "If you are trying to breakup with me, you have something else coming to you."
"Merlin, Hermione, no. I don't want to break up with you. I'm trying to tell you my family is part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
She blinked at him. "I knew that. What's so important about that? You said you don't believe in that stuff."
"I don't. But being part of that group in Britain, I have certain privileges I can claim next year. I plan to renounce my Lordship."
He watched her for her reaction. Her eyes widened, which was the surprise he expected. Next came the look as the gears started to turn and the scrunch of her brow as they pushed hard. "Harry, are you saying your family has a Lordship on the Wizengamot and you are in the Peerage?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said.
She was quiet for a few. "Why wouldn't you want to claim a seat on the Wizengamot and try to change the laws?" she asked.
"There aren't enough of us. My Aunt Bel comes from a House where her father is on the Wizengamot. She keeps up with what is going on and has taught me too. I don't want to be in politics. The ICW is also gearing up to step in," he told her. "The Ministry has received three warnings in the last two years for major breaches of the Statute of Secrecy and there are rumors of new legislation that could restrict Muggleborn. Anyone associated with that corrupt cesspool will be pulled in for investigation."
Her brow scrunched more. "That wasn't in the Daily Prophet. What other paper do you get?"
"Journaliste Véridique from France and the Irish Republican. I get both once a week while at school," he told her.
"Will you share?" she asked.
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"You have the ability to try to make a change, and you don't want to?" she asked.
"How would I be able to make a change? It would be Neville, probably Susan, a half-dozen others and myself against everyone else. I wouldn't be able to settle for anything less than removing all restrictions and stripping all the Purebloods of their precious Lordships and prissy attitudes," he told her.
"So, you just leave any responsibility you have in Britain because you don't think you could make a change? I don't see you as someone that just runs from things."
"I just don't want too," he told her. "I like living on Sark. I like our farm and the sheep and the people here. I would fight for them and could go for Election on the Council once I turn twenty-one if I need to. This is my home. I don't want to give it up."
She nodded. "Now that is a good reason. What about all those like me that live in England?"
He sighed. "I would ask you to move here," he said before he thought about it. Her eyes grew just as wide as his felt. "Ah, I mean, yeah. You know," he spluttered over his words.
There was a slight color that came to her cheeks. "I like it here," she told him softly. He felt his face heat up.
Mrs. Baker poked her head into the dining room. "If you want to make some space, I can have some lunch for you in a few minutes."
Hermione pecked him before standing up. "Sounds good, Aunt Millie. Would you just leave all the Muggleborn and everyone if you could help them?"
He sighed. "If I thought there was a chance, probably not." He really didn't want anything to do with politics. He didn't want to leave Sark.
"You really love it here, don't you?"
"Yes," he told her.
She was quiet as they organized their stuff. He figured they would finish this afternoon. They helped Mrs. Baker take out the plates and set out a pot of tea on the table. When they sat with her cousin, Hermione looked at Harry. He could tell she had been thinking. "You really think the ICW will do something?" she asked.
"Pretty positive. The Wizengamot is breaking a few laws and regulations. The ICW has looked the other way because the Ministry hadn't brushed against the laws around the Statute of Secrecy or outright discriminate against all those not of old or Pureblood. That has been changing the last few years. Unfortunately, some of my relatives have been involved, and many of them were tried at one time for being suspected Death Eaters. They have spent the last decade building a power base I could never challenge without many leaving the Wizengamot."
She nodded.
"Is your Aunt part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Hermione asked.
"She was. Her father cast her out of the family but let her keep her name. My Aunt said it was supposed to be a reminder of what she gave up. I don't think she regrets anything," he told her before taking a bite out of his sandwich.
"Belvina was a surprise when she first moved out here. She showed up with a handful of sheep, a bag of books and Harry. He wasn't even two yet. Tim and I had to teach her almost everything to do with the farm, and how to raise Harry. She caught on quick though," Mrs. Baker said.
"I'm still alive," Harry said, and Hermione playfully hit him on the arm.
"Good luck with that one," Mrs. Baker laughed. "I had suspected she was a Pureblood by many of her mannerisms and comments, but she soon fit in, didn't shy from the work required and within a few years was able to establish a business that brings in many high-level clients from all over Europe. We have a room we keep for her clients that is not cheap. What are you two talking about that Hermione wants to know your status?"
"Harry wants to give up his spot in the Wizengamot and as part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," she said.
Mrs. Baker smiled. "I figured he would do that. You don't strike me as someone that would enjoy all that," she told Harry.
"No, Mrs. Baker," he said. "Would you be alright with that?"
Hermione looked at him. She hadn't touched her lunch yet. "Why would you care what I say about it?"
"You are my girlfriend. I need to file the petition by end of month and plan to do it Thursday when I go to London with my Aunt."
"Harry, we only started to go out," she said.
"I know, but this affects you. It affects many of my friends and our year mates. I don't want to abandon them, but just don't feel like I belong in Britain."
She took his hand. "I am not sure I feel like I belong in Britain anymore. Not after being here and feeling so welcomed everywhere we go."
"You are always welcome here, Hermione. Your parents too. They could setup a small practice on Guernsey if they wanted to leave Britain," Mrs. Baker said. "Or buy a farm. There are two plots I know Mrs. Beulieu is looking to sell on Greater Sark, or there are a few fallow plots here. There are not as many families here as there were when I was growing up."
"Maybe I'll talk to them. Mum comes back Saturday for two weeks. Dad said he was trying to clear his schedule to do the same."
"My Aunt owns two other plots and a cottage that is leased out to Mrs. Turner. She has talked about moving back to London to be closer to her job in Diagon Alley," Harry told her.
"Your Aunt has invested all over the Bailiwick," Mrs. Baker said.
Harry shrugged. "She likes it here and sells or leases her holdings to those that need it," he told her.
"Your Aunt helps them," Mrs. Baker said.
"She knows what it is like," he said, knowing she helps those that needed a place to go. Typically, it was Muggleborn or other Purebloods that were trying to get away. It was something he liked about her and hoped he might be able to do the same. He squeezed Hermione's hand. "I plan to renounce my title and family privileges unless you want me to keep them. If I don't, I will need to take up a residence at one of my family properties when I turn seventeen. Otherwise, I can sell most of them."
She shook her head. "Harry, that is up to you. You won't be happy with taking up a Lordship though, will you?"
"Maybe not at first. Maybe never. Like I said, Sark is my home," he told her.
"Aunt Millie, would you mind if I wanted to stay here again next summer?" she asked.
"Like I said, you are always welcome," Mrs. Baker said.
"Aunt Bel said you can have one of the back rooms at our place as a lab too, if you want," he told her.
Hermione smiled. "That sounds brilliant."
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August 7, 1996
Little Sark, UK
It was cool today, only about 15 degrees. It didn't mean that Harry didn't find Hermione just as attractive in her jeans and heavy cardigan. She was walking out of her cousin's house after finishing a shift in the dining room for lunch.
"We don't have long. What did you want to do?" he asked her. With the horses not being used, he could put things off until about six.
"I don't know. You haven't taken me to Alderney yet," she said.
"We can do that," he said reaching his hand out and she took it. "What do you want to see?"
"Not sure. Let me just go tell Uncle Tim. Aunt Millie is on Guernsey," she told him.
They walked into the dining room and kitchens. Four others were still cleaning up from lunch or preparing dinner. Mr. Baker met them as they walked in. "You two off somewhere?" he asked.
"Alderney. Do you mind if I don't take care of the horses until about six?" Harry asked.
The man shook his head. "I'll have William take care of it tonight. He should be soon. You two have fun and don't worry about when you get back.
"Thanks, Uncle Tim," she said pulling him before he could protest. "Do you need the money anymore?" she asked.
"Well, no, but it is my job," he said.
"I am sure Uncle Tim would not tell us to just go if he didn't mean it. Where are we Flooing too?"
"Le Marquis," he said. It was a higher scale inn and restaurant. Harry had a surprise on Alderney he had not told her about yet.
She put the six knuts in the pan for them this time before they took the Floo.
When they came out, they were in the center of the town. This one was a town, more like St. Peter Port. The roads were cobbled, and some cars and small vans were parked along the side. "Where too?" she asked.
"This way," he told her, pulling her down the street. "It's about a thirty-minute walk, if you don't mind?" he asked her.
"It's not like we don't walk everywhere now," she said, taking his hand. Harry hoped he never got tired of this. He really liked her hand in his. It was pretty busy in town, being about peak of the tourist season. They walked through the streets and soon were on more of a country lane that ran along the ocean. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"It's a bit of a secret among the islanders. Only someone who is a resident of the Bailiwick can access it," he told her.
"Why only those that live here?" she asked.
"It's the last remanence of the Sereai. The magical school that used to be here."
She perked up and increased the pressure on his hand. "Really? I thought you said everything was destroyed?" she asked him.
"Not everything," he said with a bit of mystery in his voice.
"Do you have any books of the history of the Bailiwick?"
"Yeah. I also have some older ones about the Wizard-Muggle wars and before the ICW was formed. When I go to Gringotts I can get them. My Aunt likes to keep them safe. I haven't read them all yet."
She kissed his cheek. "Have I said how much I like you," she said.
He laughed. "I thought most girls liked flowers and jewelry, not books."
She flushed some. "I won't say I don't like that, but I would rather have a good book or something else."
"I'll keep that in mind. If it's nice out, tomorrow, you want to go swimming?" he asked.
She bit her lip. "Would you like me to wear the blue bikini or a new one?" she asked.
He did a double take at her and groaned. "Oh, no. I didn't talk about my brooms?" he said, his face flushing and he tried to pull his hand away from her. He had so hoped that had been a dream.
Hermione didn't let his hand go as she chuckled. "No, you didn't. Are you going to go swimming without a shirt?"
His face turned even redder. "Yeah," he told her.
She didn't laugh, instead her eyes seemed to get darker, and he had an insane urge to start snogging her. "Good," was all she said before pulling him closer and giving him a kiss. She pulled away before it got to heated. "Your Aunt doesn't mind us in your room?"
He gave a goofy smirk. "You heard the rules the other night."
She just nodded.
They walked in silence the last ten minutes to the old fort on a small peninsula. "Over here," he said, pulling her over to a board. As they approached, it changed from a muggle map of the fort to one that showed the old school. It looked like a giant blue lighthouse with water curling around it, looking like a wave climbing up.
"Oh, that is beautiful," she said.
"Yeah. It's rumored that mermaids helped them create it, and actually lived under the school. When you're ready, let me know," he told her. Harry was getting very excited to show her this.
She moved in and he wrapped his arms around her shoulder as she read. "Why do wizards and muggles always want to destroy everything they don't understand?"
He shrugged. "Don't know. You ready?"
She nodded and he moved to take her hand. There were others wandering around the fort. He took her towards the round parapet that had been reinforced during WWII to hold a large naval gun. At the base was an old wooden door. He held his wand up to the door and it opened.
"You aren't allowed to do magic," she said looking around.
"I didn't. It just recognizes my wand. Come on," he said. The other muggles around didn't notice them.
Dry stone stairs lead down into the rock. "What's down there?" she asked.
"Something really neat," he told her. He led her down. As they circled and got near the bottom the yellow gas lights turned into blue wavery light. He could still remember the first time his Aunt had taken him here when he was nine. Hermione caught her breath as they walked into a large room that was made of the same blue opalescence stone that the old school was made up of. It was about three stories tall and a hundred or more feet across. A wide walkway circled the room with a large open pit in the center. The water was about ten feet down.
She looked around the room. Alcoves were spaced equally between round pillars that curved to meet at the peak. There were trinkets, dead flowers, letters and hundreds of other things in the alcoves. "What is this place?"
"It was called the Seer Pool. If you leave an offering it is supposed to expose something about your future. Most just leave little things. A few galleons. Flowers. You can see. Those that really know the secret know if you leave something that is dear to you, that is when the magic works," he told her.
She looked at him a little dubiously. "Harry, I have seen magic, but nothing like this."
He shrugged. "It was supposed to have been built by the mermaids and they have traditions of seers. You want to try it?" he asked.
"You are kidding, aren't you?" she asked.
He took in a deep breath before letting it out. He took a small broach from his pocket. It had been his mother's. He had four of them that his Aunt had let him take when he was young. He just liked them because of the faces carved into them. He hadn't realized it was actually faces of his mother and other relatives. He knew the magic here was real and felt he needed guidance. He was sure he wanted to stay on Sark, but if Hermione was as important to him as he thought she was, then he knew he would never leave her.
"Let's find out," he said taking the broach and tossing it into the water.
"Harry, what was that?" she asked.
He didn't say anything as the water suddenly started to fill in fast. He pulled Hermione away as it frothed and bubbled. He was about to run when it suddenly stopped at the brim and leveled out, settling into a perfect calm within seconds. "Shhh," he said as she went to speak.
Harry wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't what happened. He watched the center of the water where it silently built itself into a trellis like in his back garden. Watery flowers bloomed and vines wound around it. As it built up, it turned solid and took on color. In the center, a woman grew. Hermione backed up into him and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. His eyes grew wider as the woman looked very familiar. She was in a white dress with flowers embroidered onto it, their colors matching the roses on the trellis. When her face formed, his breath stopped. It was Hermione, a few years older and in a wedding dress. She looked just as breathtaking as she did now.
He was hoping it was done when four more figures grew. There was a girl, maybe about ready to go to Hogwarts. Her sister, a few years younger, stood next to her. The older girl looked just like her mother, but with green eyes and glasses. The younger had a head of raven hair and brown eyes. Both girls looked like they were intelligent.
Then there were the two twin boys that looked about six with smirks on their faces looking up at them. He had a feeling they were troublemakers. They both had the distinctive messy black hair and green eyes that could only belong to their father.
"Oh, Merlin," he said. His heart felt like it had stopped.
"Harry, are you doing that?" she asked. Hermione had not left his arms, her back pressed against him.
He shook his head. There was a broach in the center of her dress. "I SEE A POSSIBILITY OF A LOVE AS DEEP AS THE GIFT YOU OFFERED. KEEP EACH OTHER WELL AND THIS COULD BE," a voice echoed in the chamber. The images suddenly liquified, falling and slashing in the pool. The water overflowed and rushed across the floor. Harry picked her up to let the water only go over his feet. It splashed into the other offerings and some were washed into the pool as it drained to the depth it was before.
Hermione clutched him hard as he put her down. "That was me. Harry, were those our children?" she asked. He wasn't sure if she was angry, sad, awed, afraid... maybe all of them or more?
Harry had thought he would just get an answer to a simple question.
She moved out of his arms to look at him and almost tripped. He caught her and pulled her in. "Be careful," he told her.
"I tripped over something," she said looking down before crouching. She picked up an oval piece of jewelry. "Harry, what is this? What did you do?"
He let out a breath. "As I said, if you offer something of great importance to you, it can give you a glimpse of your future. It is usually an answer to a question you desperately need answered," he said, feeling shocked.
She looked at him with her brown eyes. They were deep, emotional and shining. "Did you ask it if you should marry me?"
He shook his head. As he processed what he had seen, he had the insane thought that was what he wanted. He was only sixteen. They were only sixteen! "I just wanted to know if I should move my vaults to Guernsey and give up my Lordship."
They were both quiet for a few.
She looked at the thing in her hand. "What is this?" she asked.
"My mother's broach. A woman has received one every generation one married the Lord Potter or heir," he told her.
She looked at the broach. She looked shocked and he looked at the broach. It wasn't his mother. "It's me," she said.
-oOo-
15 C = 59 F