Author's Note:
This is both a HP reworking of "Back to the Future" themes, and a soft reboot/reworking of the time travel tale "Hair of the Grim" by Nightmare Sired Muse. It also contains many concepts, lines and situations from the grab-bag that is "Odd Ideas" and other things written by Rorschach's Blot. Used with the permission of their original authors (except for "Back to the Future" of course). The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own Harry Potter or anything else. Full disclaimer in the Table of Contents.
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Rated M for some violence, language, drug use and sexual references. Nothing explicit.
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Canon-compliant. HP&DH compliant (except the Epilogue). HP&CC compliant (except the conclusion). FB&WTFT compliant. Pottermore compliant (mostly). Some crossover with: Naruto, Ranma ½, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Twilight, Lord of the Rings and Avatar: The Last Airbender. Primarily Harry Potter though.
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Recommended Fanfiction of the Week: "In This World and the Next" by Robst.
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Chapter 11 – Marriages and Mistresses
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Amorous little butterfly, flitting about by day and night, disturbing the rest of all those pretty women.
– The Marriage of Figaro
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It was a particularly overcast day when the Postman made one of his rare trips up a walkway belonging to the house of one of the more ... unusual families on his route. A family whose eccentricity was rivalled only by that of a family of redheads on one of the neighbouring routes. Knocking cautiously, the government servant wondered idly what sort of nonsensical conversation the odd family would attempt to drag him into this time. Would it be a dissertation on the possible existence of 'crumple horned snookers' or a theory that the Minister was a surgically altered monkey? Sighing in annoyance, he walked the last few steps to the threshold and knocked on the door.
"Yes?" A confused looking middle-aged man answered the door immediately. "Is it time to buy a box of Girl Scout cookies again?"
"No sir," the Postman forced a smile, "I'm here to deliver your letter, not sell you something to eat with your tea."
"Oh yes," the man's eyes lit with comprehension, "I forgot that you're still not using trained animals to do it for you."
"Not yet Mr. Lovegood," the Postman agreed through pursed lips. "Bonded and couriered mail is still forbidden by law to be transported by owl or any other predatory bird. My job is a bit too complicated and high-security to give to a trained animal."
"Well give it time," Dr Insanus Roddericus Fitzhallibut-Malfoy replied sympathetically, "I'm sure you'll figure out the trick to it soon."
"Well, I really must get back on my rounds," the Postman said, abruptly ending the conversation. "And don't forget that you can always come into town and get your mail there, you don't always have to take the time waiting for me to arrive."
"Nonsense!" Insanus waved it off with a smile, "I'm sure that you'd miss the wonderful conversations that we always find ourselves engaging in."
"I'm sure," the Postman sighed in disappointment, then turned to begin the short walk back to the road.
Insanus smirked as he watched the man leave, always keep them confused. Keep them confused, that was his motto, make it so they never notice that they forgot to ask you any important questions, like 'what are you doing in my kitchen?' or 'you're looking for what a what?' Resisting the urge to chuckle until after he had closed the door, the patriarch of the Fitzhallibut-Malfoy and Lovegood clans opened the envelope and read the contents of the letter. His eyes widened and face paled.
"Oh no," he breathed. "It's Her. She's coming for a visit." He checked his watch. "Right now."
"Fitzhallibut-Malfoy!" came a cold, supercilious voice.
The man looked up and flinched at the dreaded sights and sounds of Her. "But … but … you're supposed to be in Scotland," he protested weakly.
"Where I am is no business of yours, and you'd do well to remember that," She sneered. She brushed past him and walked directly into his house, up the stairs and into his private office, the homeowner trotting nervously behind. She wore a pristine white frock, a lacy white bonnet and a determined expression. Insanus watched as she lowered his chair and wheeled it out from behind the desk, gesturing impatiently for him to sit. Pandora sat on the edge of the desk and glared down at him.
"I'm of the mind to do a bit of business with you, Fitzhallibut-Malfoy" She said with a frown.
"What can I do for you?"
"You have an adopted daughter named Pandora I believe," Pandora said with a cruel smile.
"Yes?"
"It just so happens that I'm in the market for a young nubile girl," she laughed, "I'll give you two galleons for her."
"No! My daughter may be worth two galleons to you but to me she's worthless, I won't sell!"
"Why look what we have here," she pulled a stack of documents out of his desk, "these appear to be the deeds to your house and your racoon-shaving business ... it'd be a right shame if you lost them now hmmm? You know what nargles do to homeless young girls, after all."
"No, you can't!" he sobbed. "She's all I have!"
"All you had," Pandora corrected. "Sign the paperwork!"
"How will I break the news to my poor innocent baby girl?" the man wailed as he dutifully signed.
"That's not my problem, Fitzhallibut-Malfoy," Pandora said coldly. "I believe our business here is concluded."
"Wait," he begged as she was about to walk out of the room, "what do you plan to do with my innocent little girl?"
"Lord Potter-Black has just become engaged to a French Baroness and she feels he'd enjoy a little something as a side-dish to seal the deal," she replied with a smirk. "I dare say your little girl won't be innocent much longer, bwahahahahahahahha!" Her cruel laughter echoed in his ears as she walked out of his office.
"Why," he sobbed, "why did I ... oh Frigg, what have I done!?" He took several deep breaths before walking to the door. "Pandora," he called in a whisper. Clearing his voice, the next summons came at a yell. "PANDORAAAA, come quickly!"
"What is it, Daddy?" Pandora skipped into his office in her skintight black bodysuit and looked up at him with wide, guileless, trusting eyes. "Is it National Yell For Your Daughter Day today?"
"There is no National Yell For Your Daughter Day." His lips pursed in annoyance. "Those closed-minded idiots at the Ministry rejected our proposal for it last year."
"I know, I was hoping that they had reconsidered and decided to approve it," Pandora answered sweetly. "If that wasn't it, then what?"
"I … I have some bad news for you," Insanus sighed regretfully. "I ... I'm afraid Pandora has bought you and intends to give you to Lord Potter-Black as an engagement present," he said haltingly, head hanging in shame.
Pandora tilted her head to the side. "That can't be right. That would be the nicest thing she ever did for me and I'm wearing the black suit, so I'm the Good Twin for today."
"I know, crabweed, it really threw me too."
"Unless..." Pandora examined the calendar hanging on the wall. "Nope, it's definitely my turn to play Good Pandora, so what could she be up to? I'll have to check this out." The girl stroked the pencil-thin Snidely Whiplash moustache she'd painted on her upper lip and went off to investigate.
Insanus sighed and leaned back in his chair. Raising twins was stressful work, thank Merlin he was only raising the one. He couldn't imagine the stress of raising two pairs like the McKinnons. I wonder where they keep the evil Alice and Marlene, you never see them around.
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Good Pandora double-checked her last set of skimpy underwear and ensured it was securely stored in her trunk. Satisfied, she snapped the lid shut and shrank it, skipping downstairs, where her adoptive father hovered anxiously.
"I know you've been sold like a slab of meat to be a Lord's bed-warmer, rutabaga, but just because you're now his lowly plaything tasked with slaking his every dark lust and sick whim, doesn't mean you have to … you know, go all the way …" he gestured uncertainly.
"What do you mean, Father?"
"I mean ... there's no reason to buy a cow if you can get the milk for free," Insanus said, looking uncomfortable. "Do you understand what I'm saying, lemongrass?"
"I think so," Pandora chirped. "You found someone willing to give us free milk."
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," he replied.
"So ... we're getting a cow?" she asked slowly.
"No, we're not getting a cow."
"Why not?"
"What?"
"I think a pet cow would be lovely."
"Oh no, this would be just like your rat and you know how that ended up."
"It drank some of my experimental potions, grew to a thousand times its normal size and destroyed one of the neighbours' houses?"
"Right," he agreed.
"But I never liked that house," she sniffed. "So it was all to the good."
"Neither did I," her father admitted. "Spoiled the view of the house behind it."
"Which is much more interesting, architecturally."
"The brickwork on the chimney is something I could stare at for hours," he agreed. Hopefully I'll have more free time after Xenophilius takes over the family business, he thought wistfully to himself.
"So what kind of cow should we get?" Pandora asked, trying to get the conversation back to what she thought was the original topic.
"I was thinking a Holstein," Insanus replied. "That way we could get matching shoes."
"Good idea," she praised. "I look forward to seeing them when I return. I've finished packing, and all my Science equipment is already in my lab at Hogwarts." She twirled around in a circle, arms outstretched to show off her naughty schoolgirl outfit. "So what do you think, Daddy? I'm Pandora Selene Lovegood, Lovegood by name, Love very Good by reputation."
"Go to back up to your room, kumquat," Insanus replied calmly. "You're not going back to Hogwarts until after I've finished performing all those chastity rituals."
"I'm sure I could get Lord Potter-Black and Baroness Delacour to join me there," Pandora giggled as she skipped up the stairs.
"The house has wards," her father replied.
"I'm sure they could get through those as easily as breathing," Pandora smirked.
"Well then, go to my room while I impersonate you with Polyjuice," Insanus nodded. It was a foolproof plan.
"No!" Pandora stuck out her tongue. "You go to your room while I do whatever I want!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Fine. Farewell, Father, I go to face my Destiny!" She skipped over to the fire, tossed in a handful of powder and shouted out, "Hogwarts Infirmary!" Then she squealed in delight as she felt herself spin wildly around the Floo network on her way to her destination.
"Good night, sweet princess, and may flights of angels protect you," he brushed away a tear from his eye, as she away. With heavy heart, Insanus went to his bedroom for his time-out to think about what he'd done.
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Harry stepped up to the Charms Professor's Office and knocked on the door three times. This was it, his first step in making the HA what the DA should have been the first time around.
"Yes," the diminutive man answered. "What can I do for you, Mr Pettigrew?"
"Professor Flitwick, I need to speak with you," Harry said firmly.
"One of those conversations?"
"Yes," Harry agreed.
"Come in then and tell me what this is all about. Have a seat," Filius ordered. He waited until the young man was in his chair before continuing the conversation. "What is it, Mr Pettigrew?"
"I heard you used to be a duelling champion," Harry said, shooting an intense stare across the desk at his Charms Professor.
"And?" Filius prompted, having an idea of how the conversation was going to go.
"We need to learn how to fight," Harry said bluntly. "We need to learn enough to destroy Voldemort."
"Do you now?" The man stroked his chin. "Are you willing to do whomever it takes?"
"Anything," Harry agreed.
"Who's we?"
"Myself and my friends."
"Revenge?"
"So we can protect those who are left. Please, Professor," he said intently. "Please."
"This 'we' includes Lily Evans?"
"Yes."
"I'd considered apprenticing Lily but I suppose that isn't going to happen if what you're implying is true," Filius mused.
"I don't think she's set any plans in stone, but with the times ..." Harry trailed off. "Her highest priority at the moment seems to be avoiding being put into the ground by age 20 …"
"Do what you can today, for you may not be alive tomorrow," Filius agreed.
"Yes," Harry agreed.
Filius thought it over for a few moments. "Have Lily speak with me later then," he said finally. "I have a few charms that she might like to go over."
"What about the rest of us?" Harry persisted.
"I'd suggest that you speak with Professor McGonagall about using transfiguration in combat settings," Filius offered. "And Professor Scamander-Goldstein for combat tactics."
"So you're not going to teach us?" Harry's face fell.
"I didn't say that." The small man smiled. "Tell me, Mr Pettigrew: when building a house, what do you do first, the foundation or the roof?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry said.
"Come back when you can run five miles in 45 minutes, do 100 push-ups and 200 sit-ups without stopping, and can swim across the Black Lake and back. Then and only then will you be able to benefit from what I have to teach you."
"Thank you, Professor." Harry gave a deep, formal bow. "I owe you more then you will ever know."
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Sirius awoke with a start the next morning as he was unceremoniously dumped out of bed and onto the floor of the dorm.
"Wake up," Harry said blearily.
"What in the bloody hell are you doing, getting us up this early?" Sirius demanded.
"Breakfast is served in three hours, the Library opens in four, and we've got a lot of work to do." Harry smirked. "Unless you were all talk when you said you'd be willing to do everything it took."
"Didn't realise that everything it took included getting up at bloody 4am," Sirius protested as he pulled on his boots. "Was in the bloody Library till it closed last night."
"And I was there next to you," Harry retorted. "Flitwick won't teach us till we can pass his bloody physical test."
"The others up already?" Sirius asked.
"Remus and James are," Harry yawned. "And Lily and Pandora are the ones that woke me up."
"Let's go then." Sirius laughed. "The more we bleed in training, the more the Death Eaters will bleed when it's real."
"And the less we will," Harry agreed.
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Lily plastered a confident grin on her face as she stepped into the Hospital Wing.
Pettigrew was a driven man, a man determined to keep his family and friends alive and that attitude had, for lack of a better term, infected them all. Remus and Xenophilius were spending every spare minute in the Library, James and Sirius were off Morgana-knows-where doing Mordred-knows-what, and Frank and Gilderoy were practicing offensive magic until casting it became second nature. That left her to learn a vital bit of magic that their little group was not already stocking up on frantically. Boys, she sniffed, spending all their time learning how to break things.
"What can I do for you, Miss Evans?" Madame Valentine's voice dragged Lily back to reality.
"I'm sorry," Lily said with a faint blush on her cheeks. "I was lost in thought."
"A good place to be," Madame Valentine replied with a smile. "You aren't feeling sick, are you?"
"No," Lily assured the woman. "I was wondering if I could learn a bit of healing magic from you."
"You'd like to become a healer?" the mediwitch asked in surprise.
"Maybe eventually," Lily demurred. "For now, I'd just like to learn enough to ... with everything that's happening I thought it might be a good idea to know a bit of healing."
"I understand," Madame Valentine said warmly.
"The boys are all focused on learning how to stay alive in a fight," Lily confessed. "I thought it might be a good idea to learn how to keep them alive afterwards."
"Not to mention how useful knowing a bit of healing will be after you become a mother," the other woman added cheerfully, smiling at the girl's blush. "Wait one moment." She dashed into her office and re-emerged with a slip of paper clutched in her hands. "This is a permission slip to check a few books on healing out of the Restricted wing. Come back after you've read the first three and we can get started on the practical stuff."
"Thank you, Madame Valentine."
"And don't hesitate to ask me if you have any questions," she added to the girl's retreating back.
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"Uh, Pandora, Odd, may I have a word with you in private?" Harry asked the Odd couple as the latest HA meeting drew to a close. The others began to coalesce into their constituent groups and drift out of the room. Ron shot him a curious glance, but Harry gave him the exploring-possibilities-will-discuss-later-if-it-turns-out-not-to-be-a-wild-niffler-chase signal. He nodded, and trotted off after Apolline and Amélie to return to Ravenclaw Tower.
"Of course, my good Blubber," Xenophilius agreed grandly. Pandora gave a distracted nod, still muttering and scratching notes onto her ever-present parchment. "What is it?"
Harry waited, quiet as a churchmouse, until the last student had left the room. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in significantly weakening Voldemort's forces?"
"Well naturally, Lab Rat," Pandora snapped irritably, "we are part of the Army aren't we? Or is the HA just some sort of front to deceive students into joining the local branch of the Rotfang Conspiracy?" Harry ignored her acerbic tone. He knew how cranky she could get when she was tired, and it was already past curfew. Absently he passed her the emergency banana he always carried for just such a purpose. He snatched his hand back as she pounced on the fruit and almost swallowed it whole.
"I've been thinking," he said.
"Always a dangerous practice," she acknowledged gravely, transfiguring the banana peel into a strange small yellow creature with five wings and two dozen eyes. With a weak 'eyore', it launched itself into the air and made its (uneven) bid for freedom. "Have you been taking regular breaks and hydrating frequently? Be careful not to strain yourself. Perhaps you should leave such heavy lifting to the more experienced in future?" Odd nodded in solemn agreement.
"Hilarious," he replied sardonically as the three of stretched out in comfort onto the nearest divan. "You've undoubtedly missed your true calling as comedians on the Mad Muggle Hour on the wireless. 'And now it's time for Pan and Xen'. You could call yourselves Pan-Xen-Monium." Odd actually looked interested in the concept, to Harrys' chagrin. Before their conversation could jump its tracks completely, he hastily added, "But back to the important issue – you no doubt know how important your 'esteemed' Head of family Abraxas Malfoy is to Voldemort's war effort, don't you?" Harry asked intently. "Wars are won by gold after all ..."
"And House Malfoy has a lot of gold," Pandora sighed. "Possibly the most in magical Europe. So you're saying we should kill my uncle?"
"At a minimum," Harry agreed. "Lucius has already vanished into thin aether, but unless we can find a way to neutralise the rest of them without killing them, then they'll have to go as well. By 'the rest of them' I mean anyone else who's likely to inherit the Malfoy Lordship that's sympathetic to the Dark Tosser's goals. Otherwise, it's just exchanging hippogriff dung for griffin dung while rearranging litterboxes on the deck of Atlantis."
"I take it that you have a way to do that, don't you?" Pandora asked calmly, neither of them seemed the slightest bit fazed at casually discussing the genocide of their extended family.
"I might," Harry said cautiously. "But I'd need to know the answer to a couple questions: First, according to the Malfoy Family Rules of inheritance, how many people aside from Abraxas and Lucius would need to be 'neutralised' before the Headship fell to either one of you?"
The two Malfoys glanced at each other for an extended silent conversation. Harry waited patiently, wondering idly what the thumb war was intended to convey.
"If dear Uncle Abraxas and Cousin Lucius carked it, then the Lordship would pass to me, were it not for my 'misfortune' of being born a female," said Pandora finally. "Another two dozen at least before it fell to Xenophilius."
"But if you were married at the time…?"
"Then the Lordship would fall to my husband, if there wasn't a suitable born Malfoy male within three degrees of separation."
"What do you mean by 'suitable'? Pureblood?"
"Well ... the first thing you have to understand is that there are different levels of pureblood. Status is based on a combination of money and how long you can trace your magical line. The Potter family, for example, is about the middle of both, while the Houses Weasley and Prewett, for example, have long, long lines but no money. The Blacks have both in spades. In this case, 'suitable' means both lineage and a certain wealth threshold. I can't remember what the cut-off is."
"And would you be willing to ah … get married, in order get the Lordship away from those Death Eater scum?" To his joy, Pandora nodded enthusiastically. Harry sighed in relief. "That makes things a lot easier. My second question is, are any of the people within these three or four degrees of separation, in your expert opinions, in any way redeemable or worth sparing? That goes for the entirety of your extended family, really." Another long pause.
"The only ones I can think of are the Lovegood clan and the Fitzhallibut-Malfoys," she said slowly. Odd nodded his agreement.
"Could you do me a favour and write out a list of all those people? Wouldn't want to hurt anyone you care about."
"We can do that. Oh yes indeed," Pandora started chuckling and rubbing her hands together in a way that thoroughly unnerved him. An unholy fire gleamed in her eyes, a sight usually only reserved for when she was revelling in the delights of Science!
"Oooo-kay… If you can get that to me before Christmas Break, I'll set things in motion to deal with the Malfoys. The marriage will have to be registered before then."
"Easily done."
"In which case, I wish you both a long and fulfilling union, Lord and Lady Malfoy."
Pandora blinked. "What do you mean by that, beloved?"
"Uh, wishing you and Odd a happy marriage?" he replied in confusion. Confusion that was mirrored in the faces of the other two people in the room.
"What are you talking about, Blubber?" asked Odd uncertainly.
"Erm, you two are, like … together, right?"
"Of course not," Pandora shot back impatiently. "Are you mad?! What would give you such a flantabulistically whippelish idea as that?"
"Huh? But… I mean… you two are always together, and I … I just assumed …"
"Don't be ridiculous – he's a minion! Everyone knows you Never marry your own minions! Sets a bad example for the others: soon they'd all be wanting special treatment, extra days off, and avoiding canary duty, lab rat duty, guinea pig duty, mucking out the cages, mopping up the failed experiments, polishing my throne, and so on."
"Then who were you expecting to marr– ah."
"Hmmm, your intelligence seems to be dropping at an alarming rate over the past few days," she murmured to herself. The giant magnifying glass was back in her hand. "A rigorous regime of potions combined with several large biomechanical implants in the amygdala may be appropriate …"
Harry began to frantically review other potential options. Xeno didn't appear the slightest bit interested in becoming a rival suitor. Dammit, he must've fallen for her later on. Merlin man, stand up and fight for your woman! Unfortunately for Harry, Odd's attention had shifted to a crack in the stone wall, which he was now staring at in absolute fascination. Suddenly Harry thought of a lifeline and grasped for it with both hands.
"Hang on, it can't possibly be me – you just said that a Lord Malfoy had to be a suitable pureblood! I'm a filthy low-born halfblood!"
"You're different," Pandora said with a frown. "Normally somebody of your status wouldn't even be considered, that is correct. But you've turned yourself into a wild card, one can insert you into any level of society without too much difficulty. One must remember that you are not simply Peter Pettigrew, the halfblood nobody, you are also Lord Black and Lord Potter, and those are titles that carry quite a bit of weight. I don't think anyone will object to you taking up the Malfoy mantle."
"I need to think about this," Harry said weakly, "I can't just ... I need to think about this."
"I understand," Pandora sighed in disappointment. "But please agree, even if you don't want me yourself, please agree to this."
"Why is this so important to you?"
"Because by and large, Malfoys don't die in accidents."
"I don't ..."
"My parents. Were a threat," Pandora explained. "And so are you and so am I."
"You're saying Abraxas was responsible for the death of your parents?"
"I'm saying that members of the Malfoy family don't tend to die in accidents," Pandora said firmly, in a way that made Harry's heart clench painfully. "And that that was a particularly convenient week for my dear Uncle. I'm not saying any more than that, I will say however that it was what convinced the Hat to put me in Ravenclaw."
"How's that?"
"Slytherin Pandora is a threat, but not a large one. With Slughorn in control of the House, she won't be difficult to break or dispose of. Simply a matter of a few favours exchanged here and there," Pandora spoke in an odd tone. "Gryffindor Pandora is just as bad, courageous but also a black mark on the Malfoy name, she'll have to come to some misfortune. Hufflepuff Pandora is also bad, but since she never really had friends, it wasn't much of a possibility. Ravenclaw Pandora on the other hand ... she's not as bad as the other three, but she'll have to work to convince the world that she's harmless, not too hard to do mind you. Ravenclaws have no common sense and wouldn't look underneath the underneath of anything if they didn't have to."
"So that's why you're always doing odd things, screaming and laughing out loud," Harry said.
"Mad Scientist Lovegood isn't a threat," Pandora explained with a shrug. "And no one takes her seriously, you'd be surprised what people will say around you when they think you won't understand or care what they say. Much the same way that innocent and timid little Peter gets overlooked, no one questions it."
"I'm in," Harry said suddenly, making another of his famously reckless impulsive decisions. He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, it was the smile of a boy who'd spent 10 years living in a cupboard and working as a slave, and another 10 fighting other people's wars. It was the smile of a boy who'd once promised Luna Lovegood that he'd never allow anyone else to hurt her or her family ever again. "I presume you have a plan ... wife?"
"Naturally, beloved," Pandora giggled. "The first step is to sign these betrothal papers." A stack of official legal-y looking documents appeared.
"Whoa! How did you get hold of them so fast?"
"Oh, I've had these for ages. Apolline gave them to me the day she introduced us."
"Figures," he mumbled, accepting the quill that Odd had pulled out of his sleeve.
"I would be most honoured to act as witness for the happy occasion," he intoned solemnly. It was a matter of minutes to sign and witness the documents. Pandora passed him his personal copy and promised to mail the originals to the Ministry and Gringotts for notarisation first thing in the morning.
"Okay, aside from the demise of our enemies, what do we need to do, as married peers?" Harry asked, feeling rather lightheaded at the momentousness of these events.
"There's a whole range of things that a proper peer of the realm is expected to do to be considered in good standing in magical society. I'll write up a list. For example, you're going to need at least one mistress besides Apolline," Pandora mused. "While she's terribly adorable, she's still classed as a hybrid magical creature by the Ministry. That'll never fly with the Families. I'll work up a shortlist of possible candidates but the decision is of course yours."
"Why do I need a mistress?" Harry demanded.
"Social standing," Pandora elaborated. "You don't actually have to do anything with her ... or him I suppose, but you need to maintain at least one to show that you can afford the expense."
"What about you?"
"It's tolerated so long as I'm discreet and wait until after your heir is born," Pandora replied. "It's accepted after your heir has an heir of his own, why do you ask?"
"…"
"Oh Peter, you silly boy, I wasn't planning to have a boyfriend on the side. You don't have to worry about that."
"Then why do you want me to have a girl on the side?" Harry demanded.
"I told you," Pandora sighed in exasperation. "Social standing. You'll look like a saint if you marry poor crazy Pandora Selene Lovegood, you'll look like an idiot if you don't have someone on the side to keep you relaxed."
"Why should I care about social standing?" Harry said with what Pandora and Odd thought to be an adorable pout.
"Because like it or not, you're an icon," Pandora explained. "You the Lord of two Ancient and Noble Houses. If we can hold you up as at least one of the alternatives to You-Know-Who, then I'm sure we can get at least a few of the Families to side with you. Then, if we can start a credible rumour that one of the Dark Tosser's grandparents was a muggle or something along those lines, then we may be able to lure a few families away from his side. None of that is possible if you don't go through the correct motions."
"Why?"
"Because the more people on our side the faster this war will end in our favour," Pandora said in exasperation. "The less we have the faster it will end in their favour."
"No, I mean why should we start a rumour that one of Voldemort's grandparents was a muggle?"
"Because it'll make him less palatable to the purebloods," Pandora said slowly. "Would you like me to explain that?"
"Why should we start a rumour if we can prove that one of his parents was a muggle?"
"What!?" Pandora and Odd jerked back in shock.
"His father was a muggle," Harry said. "Didn't you know that?"
"You can prove this?" she asked intently.
"Shouldn't be too difficult," Harry agreed.
"Oh ..." Pandora went cross-eyed and she shuddered in pleasure. "You know just what to say to a girl don't you, Peter?"
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Harry left the room in a daze and wandered with unseeing eyes through the dark, empty corridors for an unknown amount of time, until his arm was grabbed and he was dragged into a small sitting room. It was a testament to the level of shell-shock he was feeling that he didn't even object or draw his wand.
"So, what happened?" Ron demanded. "You three were cloistered in there for ages! I was starting to worry."
"I … I think I just got engaged?"
"What?! To whom?"
"Uh, Pandora." He raised his right hand and showed Ron his copy of the betrothal contract clutched therein. Ron's eyes widened comically, an expression that looked even sillier plastered over the foppish face of Gilderoy Lockhart.
"You got yourself engaged to Loony Lovegood's even loonier Mum?" he demanded incredulously. "The one who laughs maniacally and screams 'Science!' all the time? The one who looks at you as a glorified guinea pig to vivisect and reassemble in different ways? The one who let the French bird give her to you as a concubine just so she'd have more opportunities to poke and prod and experiment on your fragile person …?" He shook his head in dismay. Harry couldn't help grimacing a bit. Sheesh, when you put it like that, OF COURSE it sounds ominous. Calm down, brother. "Bloody hell Harry, I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I? I'da thought you'd learnt your lesson after doing weird, unknown rituals with your Mum." Harry blanched. Don't say it that way, you twonk! But Ron, not bothering to try and read his thoughts, steamrolled on. "And look how that turned out. Magically married to your own Mum, who also happens to hate your guts! And now you're telling me you're willingly going to go through with another marriage? Has time travel scrambled your brains, you stupid brummie? Should we go grab a replacement for you from that brain tank at the Department of Mysteries?"
"It's for a good cause…" Harry objected weakly. Ron crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Look, I'll tell you all about it later. Right now I just want to get some sleep, 'kay?" he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "In the meantime, do me a favour? Make a list of every Death Eater, Death Nibbler wannabe, Voldemort sympathiser and blood purist asshole you can remember. Even just suspected, if you're pretty sure about it. Could you also owl Hermione and get her to do the same thing? Have her add anyone else she knows about in the Ministry, or anyone who's egregiously corrupt. And not in the good way. Take your time and be thorough. I'll need both lists before the Christmas hols."
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For the past several days, Lily had been alternating between annoyed and confused. Pettigrew had been acting odd and spending a lot of time around Pandora. At first, she'd figured that the two of them had finally discovered their hormones and decided to make lemonade out of Apolline's crazy matchmaking lemons – er, schemes. Lily was honestly happy that they had picked up a new hobby, a hobby, incidentally, that kept them well away from her. But that little fact had nothing to do with her attitude, no siree! But then she started noticing little things that threw off her original theory, and that made her confused. Lily had always hated being confused so that made her annoyed; after calming, she again considered her classmates' odd behaviour, which again made her confused and restarted the entire cycle. In addition, her gossip quotient had fallen alarmingly low lately, and if anything annoyed her as much as being confused, it was being out of the gossip loop. Her insatiable curiosity would not allow it. So it was no surprise that she jumped at the chance when she received a request that she make time for a serious discussion.
"Have a seat please," Pandora said serenely as Lily walked into her lab. "Did Peter tell you why I wished to meet with you?"
"No. He didn't," she replied flatly. The fact that this discussion was with Pandora Lovegood of all people was threatening to push her into confusion again.
"You should really learn to hide your emotions better, Lily ... I had to."
Making sure to keep her wand accessible, she regarded the other girl with a guarded look. "What's this about, Miss Lovegood?"
"Peter is going to marry me" Pandora said calmly, indifferent to the shock blossoming over her colleague's face.
"What?!" Lily squawked.
"It's because of an arrangement between our families," Pandora explained. "The benefits are rather large and consequences of ignoring it are rather dire."
"That's barbaric!" Lily was appalled.
"Barbaric or not, it's what is going to happen." Pandora sighed. Why was it so much more difficult to deal with the brilliant ones than the mindless amoebic blobs she usually had to put up with? "Miss Evans, I wanted to know if you would like a position in our household. I would like you to promise to hear me out."
"I'm not going to like this am I?"
"Promise."
"Okay, I promise to listen to you."
"Good," Pandora said with a satisfied smile. "As you know, Peter has grown to depend on your assistance, and it would not be far off to state that you are his closest female friend. Further, I do not believe that he will survive this war without it. Now as I said, I'd like you to consider taking a position in our household. I know that Apolline has already sounded you out on the subject several times, but I'm not aware that you've given a definite answer?" She cocked her head. Not receiving a response from the speechless Head Girl, she decided to press on. "Before you answer, you should know that no matter what you decide, people already assume that you are Peter's mistress."
"I'd never ..."
"Don't say never," Pandora interrupted. "Because one of the positions I'd like you to consider taking is the position of Peter's mistress."
"Mistress?" Lily squeaked.
"It's expected that a wizard of his social standing will have at least one mistress," Pandora said calmly. "Or a stable of boys I suppose ... it's not important which. It's one of a number of accepted status symbols that the wizarding elite cultivate to demonstrate their superiority. Peter will need to adopt at least a few of these if he wishes to be taken seriously as a gentleman of means. Things like owning both a Manor and an expensive country home, being a patron of the arts, travelling to the major destinations of the wizarding world, like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Library of Alexandria, the Hidden City of Shambhala, and so forth, and of course, maintaining a cadre of educated, talented and sophisticated mistresses. Before you say anything, I think you should know that you don't actually have to do anything and you would have several opportunities that would otherwise not exist."
"What do you mean by opportunities?"
"A muggleborn witch who wants to have an impact on society at large has three main paths to choose from, either: find a low level position in the Ministry if she knows who to be 'friendly' to; leave the magical world, as most do; or become the kept woman of a rich and/or powerful pureblood wizard. If she chooses the latter, then several career choices open up to her. Wouldn't want to annoy her patron after all."
"I find it hard to believe that magical society is so ... so ..."
"Bigoted? Insular? Backward?" Pandora suggested. "All adjectives that muggleborns have used to describe it in the past. Didn't you ever wonder why there's never been a muggleborn Minister for Magic? Or why our Muggle Studies Professor is a proper pureblood rather than a muggleborn?"
"It never ... I didn't ..."
"You were too distracted by how wonderful magic is and you never thought to look under the surface," Pandora said gently. "All I am saying is that Peter needs you, you wouldn't have to ... to do things with him if you didn't want to, and it would be to your benefit to agree to my proposal."
"You're supposed to be his wife, Pandora!" Lily exclaimed in distress. "Why are you asking me to do these things?"
"Our match is not based on love," Pandora began. Suddenly the girl looked very vulnerable. "I hope it will be ... I certainly like Peter, he's a fascinating test subject, and he ... he's nice to me when not many people are. Lets me poke and prod and run him through the Deflorigallator whenever I want without a word of complaint. I want him to be happy to be with me and I want to defeat Voldemort, your presence will help with both of those goals."
Lily felt a wave of sympathy for the girl. This was clearly important to her, and Lily didn't have the heart to flip her off and walk away. "Ooo-kay, let's think about this," she temporised. "According to you (and Apolline I guess) Pettigrew'll need a mistress." Pandora nodded. "It doesn't have to be me though. I'm sure there are plenty of other eligible witches who'd make the cut, we shouldn't ignore them." Like that cow MacDonald. She's been having far too much fun at my expense this term; it's only fair to pay it forward. "We need to research it and make a list."
"You're right. But I've made a list already. These are all the eligible girls at Hogwarts, the cream of the crop."
"Let me see ..." Lily snatched the scroll from Pandora's hand. "Hmmm ... not bad ... good choice ... this one wouldn't work ... mmm ... Pandora?"
"Yes, Lily?"
"Uhm... I don't see my name here. I thought you said this was the cream of the crop. Is there a reason why I'm not listed? Not that I'm interested, just curious ..."
"Well... to be honest, the only reason Apolline and I have approached you at is because Peter seems so fond of you. Please don't take offense, but on a purely objective level, I don't think that you'd really qualify. Remember, being a mistress requires high standards of education, talent and sophistication ..."
"WHAT?! ... Education?! Not qualified?! Are you saying ..."
Pandora smiled. She was confident that the problem of Lily dithering around and refusing to commit would soon be solved.
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"Lily! There you are! I need your help!" Harry burst into Pandora's lab and stopped, noticing at last that she and Pandora were in the middle of a heart-to-heart.
"Hello, Peter," Pandora chirped brightly. "Did you want to discuss our upcoming nuptials with Lily?"
"Uhhh yes actually. What's going on?"
"Us girls are just seeing to the wedding plans of course!"
"Ah yeah, Pandora. I've been thinking about our betrothal, and, ah, maybe we were a bit hasty in deciding things …" he trailed off lamely. Both girls were regarding him with unreadable expressions on their flawless faces.
Pandora frowned. "Now now Peter, it's perfectly normal to get cold feet, but you need to get ahold of yourself. Are you a man or a mouse? Time to shape up, straighten out and fly right, and all those other assorted clichés I can't be bothered to trot out (or remember). Be a man, or as close to one as you can get."
He looked frantically to Lily for help. "But but but … you see it's not possible after all. I'd completely forgotten that I'm already married, aren't I? As a result of that ritual. Isn't that right, honey?" He directly that last comment to the redhead. Lily's face was, disconcertingly, developing a smile filled with sadistic glee, rather than the sympathetic air he was hoping for. Oh no, that's not encouraging.
"I for one think your engagement is a wonderful idea," Lily said sweetly. "Don't worry sweetheart, everybody knows that it was merely a minor, unexpected side effect of that ritual which tricked a few magical records into thinking we were married. But of course, we're really not; leaving you free as a bird to unite with your true love …" Harry threw her a betrayed look, which only widened her smirk.
Pandora added, "Besides, who says you have to stick to only one wife?"
What is the sound of two jaws dropping?
"But that's bigamy!" Lily objected.
"Maybe in the muggle world. Here the law prevents muggleborns from polygamy, but there are no such restrictions for the pureblood elite; as Head of two Ancient and Noble Houses, Peter's about as blue-blooded as you can get."
"But do you really want to share, Pandora?"
"Why not?" Pandora really couldn't see why her friend was making such a big deal of it. Harry/Peter had given her something she'd never thought she'd be able to achieve on her own, something she'd wanted since she was a small girl. He'd given her a means to avenge her parents. Pandora Lovegood was an odd girl by all accounts, but she always paid her debts, and as far as she was concerned, she owed him a lot. With a silent nod, she resolved to do everything in her power to make their match a happy one. Even if her friend was trapped like a rat in a loveless marriage at the beginning, it didn't mean he couldn't have diversions.
"You're serious," Lily stated with growing dread.
"Naturally. The more the merrier, I say."
"I think you mean, the more subjects to experiment on the merrier," Harry replied dryly.
"In any case," Pandora said firmly, "we ladies have important wedding business to discuss, so why don't you run along. Go play a few tricks on people with your little Marauder friends for a few hours, that should settle you right down."
"But … but … fine," Harry muttered, knowing that he'd lost.
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"Um, Pandora, Odd, you know how you said there was a possibility that if the dark families found out that Voldemort was a halfblood, some of the Traditionalists could turn against him …?" Harry began, some days later.
"What of it?"
"What's the likelihood of that happening?"
"Hmmmm pretty good, I'd say: about 60 percent, as a rough estimate," Pandora mused.
"And what's the likelihood of the Prophet publishing something like that?"
"Less than zero, as a rough estimate."
"I thought as much. This may seem like a strange question, but: would either of you happen to have a printing press stored away somewhere?"
"You know, as a matter of fact," contemplated Odd as he stroked his non-existent beard, "I do believe that my uncle Rodger Rodericus used to produce a newspaper called The Snorker, and the old press is still there in his haunted zebra knackery."
"Why in Merlin's name is it stored in a haunted zebra knackery?" Harry queried.
"Sympathetic magic."
"Huh?"
"Newspapers are also black and white and red all over," he replied calmly.
Harry groaned. "I walked right into that one."
"I see where you're going with this," said Pandora thoughtfully.
"How did you know I was going to retort with a 'why did the dinosaur cross the road?'"
"Silence, jackanape! You intend for us to take charge of Odd's uncle's haunted-zebra-knackery-printing-press; you further intend for us to use it to publish our own haunted-zebra-knackery-printing-press-printed-newspaper to combat the scurrilous perfidy of the The Daily Prophet and separate You-Know-Who from the Traditionalist faction. You likely desire to relocate the operation from its current robe-wetteningly-terrifying location to Hogwarts for easier usage. Since storing it within the castle itself would present an unacceptably high risk of discovery and confiscation, your most desired storage facility would be the similarly robe-wetteningly-terrifyingly haunted Shrieking Shack of Hogsmeade, to which there is also a convenient secret passage from school. A straightforward delivery contract with the Post via anonymous intermediaries would then be agreed, in order to prevent the Ministry from shutting down said haunted-by-ghosts-and-werewolves-Shrieking-Shack-housed-printing-press-printed-newspaper."
"That's absolutely right," Harry gaped.
"A childishly-simple feat of induction for a genius such as I, bwahahahaha! Now let us away – we still have half an hour left of free study time until Potions class to see our task done."
"How did you know there was a werewolf around the school?" asked Harry in worry for Remus' safety.
Pandora threw him a condescending look.
"Magic Eight Ball again?"
"Magic Eight Ball again."
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Harry watched in amazement as a house elf in canary-yellow dungarees busily loaded the bulky printing presses onto what looked like a large flatcar or pump-trolley with a steam engine attached to the front. He, Pandora and Odd were being basted in a fine mist of dust, disturbed by all the movement. Once she had secured the equipment onto its transport, the elf hopped onto the steam engine and pulled a lever. With a loud bang, the engine started up, puffing large clouds of steam into the dark and spooky room. The machine shuddered and began to chug out of the room. Suddenly, to Harry's shock, there was an almighty screech and flash, and the entire contraption was gone.
Noting his slack-jawed expression, Odd explained, "It works on the same principle as the Knight Bus. Chirpy will have everything installed in the Shrieking Shack's basement before you can say 'dulce et decorum est pro patria moray eel'!"
"Uh, right," Harry replied, coming back to his senses. "Now all we need to do is ward the basement with as many Notice-Me-Nots as we can, and find an editor."
"Good luck!" said Odd encouragingly.
"Odd …?"
"Yes, my dear Blubber?"
"Ever wanted to be an editor and journalist?"
"No, I always wanted to be a caterpillar."
"Well, would overthrowing the established social order of wizarding Britain be an acceptable runner-up?"
"Hmmmmm," the boy gave the matter deep thought. Pandora rolled her eyes and disapparated silently.
"Why don't you give it some thought and get back to me?" Harry suggested.
Odd nodded. Harry took hold of the boy's arm and side-along apparated them to the front of the Shrieking Shack. Together they strolled down to the cellars to supervise the set-up.
"You know," Odd mused as they watched Chirpy clean and prime the presses, and replace old and broken components, "I've always firmly believed that the press is a gang of cruel snozz-wazzles. Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a cheap catch-all for chawdards and misfits and charlatans, a false doorway to the backside of life, a filth-ridden little hole nailed off by the building inspector, but just deep enough for a vagrant to curl up from the sidewalk and expatiate like a Snorkack in a lime store."
"Ah," said Harry, heart sinking. "I see. Say no more …"
"So I'd be more than happy to take up the reins and run your treasonous newspaper. As the Great Scientist herself says, 'this will be ever so much fun'!"
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"Blubber?" asked Xeno slowly the next day.
"What is it, Oddment?"
"Why did the dinosaur cross the road?"
Harry grinned. "'Coz chickens weren't invented yet."
Xeno's nose scrunched. "I don't understand."
"You know, because of evolution?"
Blank stare.
"Darwin? Dinosaurs turning into birds?"
"You mean through transfiguration?"
"Bloody wizards," Harry grumbled.
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