HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY

CHAPTER 33: A Very Potter Holiday

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

After the unpleasantness at the Leaky Cauldron, the rest of the holiday break was more subdued. Jim spent most of his time alone in his room, although Neville succeeded in coaxing Jim and Harry into flying with him on the morning of Christmas Eve. It quickly became apparent that Lily and James now had separate rooms, a fact of which Lady Augusta oddly approved.

"Every Lady should have her own rooms separate from the Lord's," she'd said sagely. "It keeps everyone from taking things too personally."

On the afternoon of the 24th, James invited Harry into his private office, where he spent three hours going over the family's assets with his Heir, including details concerning the Potter Charitable Trust. Much of it was over Harry's head, but he did come away with the definite impression that Pettigrew's offer of two-million galleons to step aside as Heir was small potatoes. He also did his best to absorb every detail with an eye towards sending Artie a pensieve memory as soon as he was back at school. When the two were done discussing the family business, Harry thought it was time to lead the conversation in the direction of other matters.

"Thanks for telling me all this ... Dad," Harry said with a smile. He'd been practicing his fake smile a lot since he knew he'd be spending the holidays with the Potters. And he was rewarded when James grinned warmly and almost affectionately at his use of the word "dad" no matter how forced it might have been. "We still have some time before dinner. I was wondering..." He hesitated for what he thought was the right length of time to project bashful sincerity. "If you don't mind, could we talk a little about, well, other family matters."

James crooked his head. "Like what?"

"Well ... what was Hogwarts like for you when you were my age? How did you and ... Mum get together? What was it like during the War? That sort of thing."

James adopted a wistful expression. "Well, I hate to say it, but when I was your age – and for a few years after – I was a complete prat!"

Exercising incredible willpower, Harry made no comments about James's current personality. The man continued.

"I had three close friends: Peter, Remus ... and Sirius. We were inseparable. And we are all obnoxious arrogant little gits. 'Toe Rag' was your mother's favorite name for me for pretty much our first five years in school together, and it wasn't a term of endearment. We called ourselves the Marauders and considered ourselves 'merry pranksters.' A lot of other people would have described us as bullies, and it took me a long time to realize that they might have had a point. That's one reason why I'm so glad that you and Jim both count Neville as a friend. I didn't even start to grow out of that childishness until the end of Fifth Year when Frank Longbottom pretty much kicked my arse over a particular bit of school yard cruelty. Between that and some other things that happened the following year, I grew up, stopped with the pranking – mostly – and focused on getting my grades into shape. To my great amazement, my newfound maturity actually impressed Lily enough to the point that she finally agreed to go out on a date with her. And when that date went well, we went on another ... and another. One thing led to another, and we got married right out of school."

"That seems... anticlimactic."

James shrugged. "Growing up frequently is."

Harry nodded as he took that in. "You say one of your Marauder friends was someone named Remus? Is that where my middle name came from? I'd assumed that Jim's middle name was Romulus and you called us that because we were twins."

James laughed. "No, no. Although if my mother had lived to see your birth, she'd have thought twin names like that would have been adorable. No, Remus Lupin was part of our little four-man band. He was both a very good friend and the brains of our quartet. Unfortunately, he suffered from a medical condition that made it impossible for him to serve as godfather to a child and especially one from an Ancient and Noble family, so we decided to honor him instead by naming both you and Jim after him. Your full wizarding name is Hadrian Remus Potter, Hadrian being the wizarding name of your great-great-grandfather who was Minister of Magic around the turn of the century."

"And Jim?"

"Iacomus Evan Potter. Iacomus is the Latin equivalent of James and is also the name of another of our prominent ancestors from the 15th century. Evan is a Welsh derivative of John, which was Remus's middle name, and it's also close to Lily's maiden name. Outside of official wizarding legal documents, Jim is just James Evan Potter, Jr. We only added the Junior for some weird social reason that I can't even remember, but it doesn't have the same importance for wizards that it does for Muggles. You would never have had Junior after your name even though you were firstborn because generally it's considered socially improper for a wizard to name his Heir after himself."

James grimaced in annoyance. "Honestly, the whole thing was kind of a mess. You see, we weren't expecting twins. Neither Lily's family nor mine has a history of them, and while Healers can monitor the health of an unborn child, it's very difficult to magically determine gender or the presence of multiple fetuses. Something to do with how a magical baby, or babies in this case, growing inside a magical mother screws up diagnostic spells. You were supposed to be 'Harry James Potter.' We were prepared for the possibility of a 'Clementia Rose Potter' if you'd been a girl, but not for the possibility of two boys. We had to scramble to name you both because our family's Wizengamot charter has a bunch of stupid rules for the naming of Potter children and I didn't want to screw up anyone's inheritance rights by putting the wrong thing down on the official birth certificate. Your middle names could be anything Lily and I agreed on as long as you were named after a person we both considered important, but the first names had to be Latinized names associated with revered Potter ancestors."

Harry took a moment to be properly horrified at the thought of being a girl named "Clementia Rose."

"So what happened to Remus Lupin?" he asked. "I noticed that you referred to him in the past tense. Did he make it through the war?"

James hesitated, and it was clear that Harry had raised a sore subject. Not that he particularly cared, of course, but Harry knew that James required a delicate touch, so he slipped on his best mask of guileless innocence.

"He did, but we ... quarreled after Jim vanquished You-Know-Who. In part, it was about you. Remus wanted to assume guardianship of you rather than see you sent off to live with Muggles, but his condition would have made that impossible. When Lily and I turned him down and sent you to the Dursleys instead, he ended up leaving Britain saying there was nothing left for him here. I haven't seen Remus in over ten years."

Harry nodded. "And now comes the tricky part," he thought to himself.

"And Sirius Black? He was your friend for so long. Did you ever find out why he betrayed you?"

"No," James said flatly. "The fact that he did was enough. Once he was in custody, I chose not to dwell on it."

"Did he say anything about it at his trial?"

"I didn't go. You, Jim, and Lily were still at St. Mungo's at the time of Sirius's capture, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was more important to me than my family. I'll admit I was shocked when I read in the papers how much time he'd spent as a secret Death Eater and how many crimes he'd committed and pinned on dupes he'd put under the Imperius Curse. Shocked and also embarrassed at how well he'd deceived me. After bringing him in, I never saw him again, and I've never regretted it."

Harry studied his father's face and the emotions playing across it. "Your learned that your best friend had betrayed you for years and almost got your whole family killed," he thought. "And you weren't even interested in going to his trial, let alone confronting him personally to hear what he had to say? Oh no, that's not the least bit weird and suspicious to me. Not one bit."

25 December 1992

Early on Christmas morning, the Potter household awoke to celebrate Christmas. Gifts had been delivered the previous day, and after what had happened on Jim and Harry's birthday, each of them was exhaustively checked by the house elves for anything unusual or dangerous before they were left out under the tree for the three boys.

For the most part, Harry was pleased with his haul, though he was somewhat surprised to have received more Christmas gifts than the Boy-Who-Lived. Jim got gifts from Harry, Neville, Hermione, Padma Patil and collectively from the Quidditch team, while Harry got gifts from everyone in the study group, plus nearly every individual Slytherin on the Quidditch team or in his year. Indeed, among Second Year Slytherins, only Pansy and Vince had snubbed him. Even Greg had sent a box of sugar quills. Of course, Harry had not set out to treat the number of Christmas gifts the two boys received as a competition, but if he had, it was clear who the winner was. The most unusual gift was a book he'd received from Theo – Tales of Beedle the Bard, which was book marked at "The Tale of the Three Brothers." What made it unusual was that Harry also received a different edition of the same book from Marcus Flint which was also book marked at the start of that same story.

Jim also received two books of his own, one each from Padma and Hermione. Padma's book was about the history and current status of Wizarding India, while Hermione's gift was a copy of Hogwarts: A History, though it was a much slimmer edition than the one Harry owned. Discreetly studying his brother's reactions, Harry noted the following details: that Jim initially seemed disappointed with Hermione's gift until he read the note accompanying it, that Jim then slid the note into a pocket with what passed for subtlety among Gryffindors before opening the book up to the contents page, and that Jim then immediately looked up sharply in James's direction before flushing slightly and then putting the book away.

"Hmm," thought Harry. "So Hermione sent Jim a book with a transfigured cover, and he immediately hides it away from James. Fifty galleons says it's something about Parseltongue. Interesting. I wonder how hard it would be to get Jim to admit it to me and tell me the title without making him suspicious. Oh well, something else for the To Do list."

That afternoon...

After the noontime Christmas Dinner, Augusta, Neville, and Harry left Potter Manor via Floo for St. Mungo's to visit Neville's parents. At the Floo exit, they were met by Nymphadora Tonks and the scariest looking wizard Harry had ever seen, a burly, heavily scarred man with a whizzing electric-blue fake eye and a heavy wooden leg. Tonks introduced him as her supervising instructor, Alastor Moody. Neville recognized the man's name immediately and displayed an awestruck expression, while Augusta apparently knew him personally.

"Why Alastor, whatever brings you to St. Mungo's on Christmas Day?" she asked. "Is your eye out of focus again?"

The man gave a snort. "Scrimgeour has taken an interest in the health and safety of young Mr. Harry Potter here. While we don't have the authority to assign either an investigator or a bodyguard to Hogwarts – at least not yet – Trainee Tonks and I have been tasked with keeping an eye on the boy when he's out and about." Then, Moody's expression softened, if only a tiny bit. "Your ... Christmas tradition is widely known, Gussie. I thought it likely that Potter might choose to accompany you today. And so, here we are."

With that, his whizzing blue eye whirled about and trained itself on Neville. "Hello, Neville. I doubt you remember me, but I knew your parents quite well in their day and visited your home a few times when you were just a baby."

Neville nodded appreciatively. "Yes sir. Gran has shown me pictures of you with Mum and Dad from their days at the Auror Academy. And ... I've read all the stories about you in the Prophet." He turned to Harry. "Harry, this is Alastor Moody, one of the best aurors to serve in the last hundred years at least. They say half the dark wizards in Azkaban were put there by him. Auror Moody, this is my friend Harry Potter."

"Oh, I know who Harry Potter is, Neville," he said. "We were watching over you the other day at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry's brow furrowed. "No offense, sir, but I think I'd have remembered you."

"Hmph. Tonks here is a Metamorphmagus, as I gather you know. She was the thin Norwegian-looking fellow sitting two tables over from you who kept complaining that the tavern didn't serve lutefisk." He glared at her with his good eye. "For which I lectured her sternly afterwards since it defeats the whole purpose of a disguise if you use one that draws attention to yourself!" Tonks rolled her eyes while Moody looked back at Harry. "As for myself, let's just say that your father doesn't have the only invisibility cloak in Britain, just the fanciest one. If you plan to wander about Diagon Alley like some wide-eyed continental tourist when you have mysterious wizards plotting to kill you, you would be wise to pay more attention to your surroundings. That or invest in a Foe-Glass or a Sneakoscope. A good one, not the cheap copies they have in Diagon Alley. And always remember – CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harry jumped at that as did several people in the waiting room, and the nearby receptionist (who bore a faint resemblance to the sour-faced Hogwarts librarian, Madame Pince) let out an angry "Shush!" to which Moody paid absolutely no heed. Augusta gave him a stern look.

"For Merlin's sake, Alastor! We're in a hospital! Stop ... pontificating!"

The auror sniffed disdainfully, apparently unmoved by the woman's complaint. Augusta shook her head and ushered the two boys past Moody and Tonks and towards the elevator. Not for the first time, Harry felt conflicted about accompanying the Longbottoms. He already felt as though he was intruding on the family's privacy, and now, by his very presence, he was attracting Ministry-sanctioned bodyguards.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of Harry's current legal status with the Potters, he couldn't stay at Potter Manor without a chaperone or it might lead to the dissolution of his injunction against James Potter and allow the man an unacceptable level of control over Harry's affairs. Besides, Alice Longbottom was supposed to have been Harry's godmother, and so he felt a fraternal obligation to accompany Neville today. He remained silent as the group rode up the elevator to the Janus Thickey Long Term Care Ward where Neville's parents had been since he was a baby. Once inside the Longbottom's room (Moody and Tonks waited outside respectfully), Harry stayed back while Neville spoke to his parents, neither of whom seemed responsive. It was both sad and touching, particularly when Alice, her hands shaking from palsy, handed a candy wrapper to Neville who looked down at it and then quickly placed it into his pocket. For a brief moment, Harry had a flash of insight into some other world, one in which Neville had been the Boy-Who-Lived and where Harry had been sent to the Dursleys not because his parents thought him a squib but because they'd been left as empty shells after trying to protect their children from Death Eaters.

"Mum," Neville said gently. "This is Harry Potter. Lily Potter's eldest boy. Your godson." For a brief moment, Alice Longbottom turned her head as if to look in Harry's direction, although he could tell that she was looking over his shoulder rather than making any true eye contact.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Longbottom," he said respectfully. In that, she dipped her head a bit, though it seemed more of an involuntary response than any actual reaction to his words. The trio spent about thirty minutes in the Longbottoms' room in the Janus Thickey Ward. Harry and Augusta sat quietly while Neville told his mum and dad all the major events from his fall term at Hogwarts as he gently brushed his mother's hair.

After the visit was over, Moody and Tonks escorted the group back towards the lobby.

"So, Miss Tonks," said Augusta. "I see you have a stern taskmaster watching over you. Does this mean that you won't be able to tutor my grandson and Harry this summer?"

"Um, no, Lady Augusta, sorry," Tonks replied. "I was going to write to Mr. Podmore at the start of the year once my schedule was confirmed, but it's looking like I'll be at the Academy all summer." Both boys looked disappointed at this.

"Oh well, that is a pity," Augusta continued. "I am pleased, however, to see that you are progressing so well through the Auror program. Mind you, I do hope that Alastor is instructing you in matters of ethics as well as tactics."

"And what's that supposed to mean, Gussie?" Moody said gruffly.

"You know as well as I do, Alastor, what it means to be a Metamorphmagus in today's climate. And I'm sure you know perfectly well what use Cornelius Fudge might have for someone with such a skill."

"The law is the law, Gussie," the Auror snapped irritably. "Metamorphmagi are covered under the Conscription Act, though I must grudgingly admit that Trainee Tonks is qualified to serve as an auror regardless of whether the Act applies to her."

"What's the Conscription Act?" Harry asked.

"A very old and obscure law of the Wizengamot," said Augusta. "One which requires wizards and witches who possess certain rare magical gifts, whether innately or acquired, to register them with the Ministry or risk imprisonment. Depending on the nature of the gifts in question, the person may also be compelled to act as an agent of the Ministry."

"In my case," said Tonks, "the Metamorphmagus gift is on the Conscription List, so when my powers manifested when I was a baby, my parents had to register me. I was always going to end up working in the Ministry in some capacity after that, but my grades plus my gift made me qualified for the Academy no matter how grudging some people are about it." She gave Moody an evil eye with that last remark. He grunted loudly in response.

"Anyway," he said to Augusta, "you will be pleased to know that, yes, Trainee Tonks and I have had several long talks about what she can and cannot legally do as an auror using her Metamorphmagus gift and what Ministry personnel, whether in or out of the DMLE, can and cannot ask of her. I've also had equally long talks with both Rufus and Amelia, and I don't think either of them will tolerate any shapeshifting funny business." He walked in silence for a moment. "Of course, whether Potter will tolerate any shapeshifting funny business remains to be seen."

Augusta looked sharply at Moody. "It is confirmed then? That James Potter will follow Rufus as head of the DMLE?"

"Pretty much, baring some sort of scandal. Cornelius seems to think James is the moon and the sun." Moody turned towards Harry. "Speaking of scandals, are you by any chance a Parselmouth like your brother?"

"No, I'm not," Harry lied effortlessly. "And I'll thank you not to summon a poisonous snake and throw it at me to try and prove otherwise. That got old very quickly during the last few weeks of term."

Moody studied Harry for a few seconds, his false eye whirling madly. Then, he gave a rasping laugh. "Fair enough, boy. If you say you're not a Parselmouth, I guess I'll have to take you at your word. You certainly seem honest."

Harry frowned as he filtered his way through the layers of possible obfuscation in what Moody had just said. Suddenly, he was curious as to whether the grizzled auror might have been a Slytherin.

"Why are you so curious?" asked Augusta suspiciously. "Parseltongue isn't on the Conscription List."

"Not yet," he answered. "But it's been a long time since there have been any families known for producing Parselmouths who sit high enough in the Wizengamot to veto Parseltongue's reclassification. And with what's been happening with the Boy-Who-Lived, well, there's been talk."

Augusta frowned as she considered the implications of that, while Neville spoke up.

"But ... Lord Potter is Head of an Ancient and Noble House. You can't get any higher than that. Surely if it's possible for anyone to ... veto this ... whatever it is, he'd be able to do it."

"Able doesn't mean willing, lad," Moody replied. "People in this country deeply fear and mistrust Parselmouths. It's not fair, but that's the way it is. If he had to choose between Jim Potter getting drafted into government service – and most likely into James's own department – or vetoing the reclassification measure and letting people think he was shielding the Boy-Who-Spoke-Parseltongue from the law, perhaps even out of some dark motive," he turned towards Harry, "well, what do you think he'd do?"

Harry considered the question. "Honestly, I've no idea. I'm ... still getting to know James Potter."

Moody coughed loudly and then spat some phlegm into a nearby potted plant. "Yeah, good luck with that, kid. Personally, I know him well enough to take early retirement the day after he's confirmed as Chief Auror."

"Really, Alastor?" said Augusta in surprise. "You'd quit just over that?"

"Hell yes!" he exclaimed. "You and I both know I'm not pretty enough to be one of James Potter's aurors!"

He and Augusta both laughed, but Harry had a different question. "Just how many gifts are on this Conscription List right now? And how many people get drafted into working for the Ministry just for having them?"

"Oh, there are only a few gifts, Harry," said Tonks. "And they're all extremely rare. House Black used to be known for producing wizards and witches with various shapeshifting powers, but I'm the first one to display any of them in a hundred years or more.

"The first one to be discovered, my dear," said Augusta. "Your mother's family was insular and paranoid for a reason after all. And I've heard it suggested that Sirius Black was an unregistered Animagus..."

"More than suggested, Gussie," Moody interrupted. "James Potter was oddly insistent that Sirius Black's Azkaban cell have special anti-Animagus wards on it."

"Really!" she said, absorbing that bit of gossip. "How very interesting! Anyway Miss Tonks, I also seem to recall that when I was at Hogwarts, there were all sorts of unsavory rumors floating around your great-grandaunt Cassiopeia Black suggesting that she might have been an unregistered Metamorphmagus herself."

"Oh honestly, Gussie," said Moody acerbically. "She was a Black. They've all got unsavory rumors floating around them."

31 December 1992
7:00 p.m.

The Potter New Year's Eve Ball lived up to its reputation with a guest list of nearly a hundred. At breakfast on Boxing Day, Lily casually mentioned that she had hired someone to come in and give Jim dancing lessons, and she asked if Harry and Neville would like to join in. Augusta answered with a firm "Yes" before either of them could respond, and all three boys showed varying degrees of mortification. Lily and Augusta also conspired to get in a fitting for formal robes for the boys.

On December 27th, all three boys met in the Grand Ballroom (a huge room half-again as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts) where Lily and Augusta were waiting for them along with a positively ancient witch who was introduced as Madame Twanky of the "Twanky Academy for the Terpsichorean Arts." Madame Twanky did not personally teach the boys dancing lessons as such. Instead, she brought with her several mannequins which were charmed to move at her direction, which the boys found extraordinarily creepy and off-putting. After using the animated dummies to demonstrate the basic steps, she assigned one of the mannequins to each of the three boys and spent several hours teaching them the traditional waltz, the Viennese waltz, the pavane, the gavotte, the polka, and finally the foxtrot. Madame Twanky made it clear that she found the foxtrot common, bordering on vulgar, but she understood that "young people nowadays are into that sort of thing,"

On the evening of the Ball, Harry and Jim (both wearing brand new formal robes with green and red waistcoats, respectively) stationed themselves next to the Floo. It turned out that each of them had special guests upon whom they were waiting. The Greengrasses arrived first, and Harry welcomed the Noble family back to Potter Manor before escorting both Daphne and Astoria to the ballroom. Then, he returned just in time to see the Patils arrive ... and to watch as Jim kissed Padma Patil's hand. Slightly startled, Harry also extended his welcome to the Patils and quietly informed Mr. Patil that Lord Greengrass and Lady Augusta were already in the ballroom. Jim extended his arm to Padma who took it, to the quiet surprise of both Harry and Parvati. Recovering smoothly, however, Harry quickly offered his own arm to Parvati and escorted her to the ballroom, with Mr. and Mrs. Patil following behind.

A few minutes later, the Potter Twins were back once more at the Floo, awaiting more special guests. Apparently, James had pulled strings to arrange a one night only Floo connection between Potter Manor and the Granger residence. Hermione stepped through first, radiant in a periwinkle blue ball gown with long white Victorian opera gloves. Mr. and Mrs. Granger followed, each dressed in Victorian formal wear. Jim stepped forward first to kiss the hands of Hermione and then Mrs. Granger before shaking Mr. Granger's hand warmly. Harry watched Jim's interactions with Hermione's parents before following suit. The results of his observations were dispiriting. He'd held out hope that whatever curse caused Muggles to dislike him was common to both him and his brother. However, the Grangers seemed quite charmed by Jim (who, to be fair, did know how to conduct himself well in formal social situations). But when Harry stepped forward, both Muggles visibly recoiled from him. Though Hermione's parents both tried to maintain a sense of decorum, it was clear to Harry that she'd noticed their reactions. Harry quickly finished his welcome and then left the Grangers to his brother while he returned to the ballroom to Astoria Greengrass to dance a waltz with him.

The two made small talk as they danced, though Tori still obviously had eyes for Cedric Diggory, who was dancing gracefully if nervously with some Ravenclaw named Chang whose parents both worked in the Ministry. After the waltz ended, Harry escorted Astoria back to her mother's side and then asked Daphne to dance a pavane with him. A slower, more regal dance, the pavane allowed the two to discuss more serious topics.

"Your home is lovely, Harry," Daphne said.

"Thank you, Daphne, though I'm still not sure I would call it my home. That part's a work in progress."

"Speaking of works in progress, I have news about your pet project involving my family. Father is telling Lady Augusta and Mr. Patil right now, but I wanted to let you know personally instead of hearing about it later."

"Oh?"

"There's been a ... complication. We think the Selwyns found out about our families' business negotiations and decided to intervene."

"With a carrot or a stick?"

"Carrot now, though probably with a stick if the carrot's not big enough. In a nutshell, Lord Selwyn set up a meeting with Father last week and made us an offer. If we'll break off our negotiations with the Longbottoms and Patils and sign an exclusive trade agreement with the House of Selwyn, they'll sponsor our elevation to Ancient and Noble status."

The news was so startling to Harry that he briefly fell out of step with the music. "That's ... a pretty impressive offer. We must have scared the Selwyns even more than I'd thought." He took a deep breath. "Has your father accepted?"

"Not yet. He's not obligated to answer for several months." Daphne bit her lip slightly. "How much pull does your alliance have, Harry? We're assuming that the Selwyns will have the support of House Nott and House Malfoy and their respective vassals. Can the Longbottoms match that? And would your father support us? I mean, we're Slytherins from way back, but we never supported You-Know-Who."

"I'm sure Lady Augusta is counting votes as we speak." He hesitated. "I'll be honest with you. Vote allocation in the Wizengamot seems convoluted as heck and isn't something I've spent a lot of studying. I have been rather busy with other matters, I'm afraid. But I'll try to let you know something by the time we get back to school if Lady Augusta hasn't already contacted your father by then."

She nodded, and the two switched to small talk about school matters for the rest of the dance. As the song ended, Harry noticed Hermione standing with her back against a wall while sipping punch. And to his surprise, she was rather aggressively not looking at him in a decidedly Slytherin manner. In fact, when he took a step in her direction, she quickly finished her punch and made her way out of the ballroom. Smiling, Harry followed her out and down a hall and then saw her step into the Music Room. After looking around, he followed her inside and then put a privacy ward up over the door. When he turned around, Hermione was sitting on a bench in front of a grand piano. Harry glanced around the room (and wondered for a second why on Earth the Potters kept a sousaphone lying around) before heading over to join her.

"Why Miss Granger! Wherever did you learn how to attract someone's attention by strategically ignoring them?"

She looked up at him with an amused expression. "From Blaise, of course. After your interaction with him at the birthday party last summer, I became interested in how Slytherins communicate with one another through body language and other nonverbal cues, so I cornered him and asked him for some pointers."

"You make us sound like some sort of alien species, Hermione." She crooked an eyebrow at him to suggest that she thought that exact thing about Slytherin House. He shook his head as he sat down next to her on the bench. After eighteen months as a Slytherin, he thought that it quite possible that she was right. "Never mind. Since you've been such an attentive student of Blaise's techniques, what do you want to talk about?"

"Oh, I was just curious, Harry Potter, as to what you could possibly have done to make my parents have such an obvious and uncharacteristic dislike for you?"

He coughed. "It's ... not something I can talk about. Not here anyway." He glanced around the room. "The walls have ears. Probably literal ears since it's a magical house."

She studied him for a moment before touching her wrist and then, with a flourish, pulling out her wand which had been ingeniously hidden inside the glove. "MUFFLIATO."

"Ah yes. The privacy charm that you found in a stack of Gryffindor pornography. Did you ever turn that back in to Professor Snape?"

"Yes, and don't change the subject. Professor Snape says this is the strongest privacy charm he's ever seen or heard of, so we should be able to talk freely."

He sighed and looked down at the floor. His Slytherin side calmly and somewhat coldly listed every reason why this was not the sort of thing he should reveal to Hermione Granger, the brilliant but reckless Gryffindor with the infuriatingly strong moral code and the absurd lack of restraint when someone presented her with a mystery. And honestly, she didn't know the first thing about protecting her mind from intrusion! But to each objection, his Gryffindor side had only one response – that she was his very first and very best friend and she would never betray him or let him down. And so he told her. Naturally, she was appalled.

"And you have no idea what's causing this ... psychosis in the affected Muggles?"

"None. Snape says its unprecedented, and if he doesn't know what's causing it, I can't imagine who would. All I know is that it makes Muggles dislike me and eventually want to see me suffer and die, but wizards aren't affected and can't even perceive whatever it is."

Hermione hesitated. "That's not quite true." Harry looked at her in surprise. "Luna Lovegood. We been studying her ... extrasensory power in Project Mysterioso."

"Extrasensory power? That's what we're calling it now when somebody sees imaginary creatures?"

"That's just it, Harry. I don't think they're imaginary anymore. By recording her own observations about your brother, she was able to deduce that Jim was being psychically damaged by that dark Occlumency text weeks before anyone else discovered it."

Harry's widened slightly. "And she sees something in me?" he asked in surprise.

"Not exactly. She says she knows that there's something there inside you but that whatever it is, it knows when it's being observed and is able to actively conceal itself from her ... well, we don't have a name for what Luna does yet. Though she's very attached to the idea of calling it her 'Mysterioso Vision.' That's what Professor Lockhart gets, I suppose, for trying to be witty and ironic."

Harry laughed at that before turning thoughtful. "So, I've told you one of my secrets. You tell me one of yours. What was that transfigured book you gave Jim as a Christmas gift? Something to do with Parseltongue?"

"If that were true, Harry, I doubt it would be of much interest to you. I mean, you're not a Parselmouth, are you?" And with that, she smiled and batted her eyelids almost mockingly. If he'd been drinking, Harry would have done a spit-take.

"I am not a Parselmouth" were the words he tried to say, but they kept tripping over "first and best friend." Finally, she took pity on him.

"Harry, speaking purely hypothetically, if you were a Parselmouth and kept it hidden even after Jim's exposure, would it be for legitimate and important reasons? Or would it be just to cruelly isolate Jim at Hogwarts and make him miserable?"

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Hypothetically, it wouldn't just be to make him miserable. There would be legitimate and very important reasons as well."

"Pertaining to your Slytherin lineage, I suppose?"

That remark so startled Harry that he lost his balance and fell off the piano bench and onto the floor. Hermione laughed gently.

"What?!" he explained.

"Harry, honestly. I always thought it more likely for Jim, and presumably you, to have inherited Parseltongue as a family gift than for Jim to have gotten it from You-Know-Who as some sort of nonsensical magical transference. And since your mother was a Muggle-born, I assumed that the gift came by way of one of those Slytherin lines that was forced to change its name after the Inheritance Act was passed. From what I've read, no one knows for sure which families are descended from Slytherin, but the ones thought to be were generally rather awful, so I can see why you would want to control the circumstances under which you revealed any such magical heritage."

Harry climbed up and sat back down on the piano bench. "You're preceding under the assumption that all Muggle-born are actually lost descendants of magical lines, I take it?"

"Through squibs, yes. In our potions book last year, there was an essay written in the 19th century by Hector Dagworth-Granger, the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Somewhat curious, I looked up his family tree and compared it to that of my father's side of the family. It appears that I am Hector Dagworth-Granger's third cousin, twice removed. Or his second cousin, three times removed. I never can remember how that works."

"Have you contacted him?" Harry asked in surprise.

She sniffed as if she'd just detected a particularly foul odor. "Cousin Hector is deceased. I wrote to his daughter Cressida Dagworth-Granger last summer, and what a delightful charmer she was! Her response was a rather terse letter stating that the Dagworth-Granger family has never produced any squibs in its illustrious history, that she would not stand for any Mudblood besmirching her father's name and legacy, and that if I ever contacted her again she'd sue me for defamation."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Harry. One day, I'll be invited to join the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers on my own merits. And I'll turn the bigoted Pure-Blood twits down flat!"

The next chapter is tentatively scheduled for upload on Monday, 2/29/16. However, I am trying to complete income taxes this week and may get behind. If the next chapter is not up by noon CST on 2/29/2016, assume that I'm weeping into my tax forms and that the upload will get pushed back to 3/2/2016 instead.

1. The last chapter will be uploaded to correct bad Latin from Countess Zabini and a mistake involving how multi-majored degrees are given (or more accurately are not given in Great Britain).

2. I had not originally planned to include Mad-Eye Moody in this chapter (and really not even in this book), but once he showed up, he just took over the whole scene. I think Moody's more fun to write than anyone except Snape.

3. This chapter is a bit shorter compared to the more reacent ones, but I hope its "density" makes up for it.