A/N: Hey guys, sorry this took a while. The chapter was supposed to have one more scene (the meeting with John and planning for the Wizengamot) but I'm a bit stuck with it (I have to choose between two configurations for that institution, and can't make up my mind) so I decided to post this as is, even if there isn't much in the way of plot development. I thought it broke nicely at the end, so maybe it's for the best. I hope you envoy anyway! Cheers, Cathy
Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal.
Arthur Schopenhauer
Chapter 24: Of Family
"Harry, is there a reason you've decided to set this absolutely ridiculous pace?" Ginny puffed, trying to force her shorter legs to move faster, compensating for Harry's advantages in height and, apparently, motivation.
He turned around, shortening his steps, and waited for her to catch up. "I'm sorry, Gin, I'm just frustrated, is all."
"At anything in particular, or just in general?" she asked, trying to slow her heartbeat, knowing that she'd never make it to the end of their circuit if she exhausted herself now.
"I feel like we're in the middle of this insane battle where the six of us are all alone and we're fighting thousands of years of prejudices and programming. We can't win, and I'm beginning to think that to even try, to spend political capital, time and effort on this thing might be a stupid endeavour."
Ginny heard what he said, and felt that this wasn't a conversation she could have while running. The secondary activity required too much of her concentration between keeping a regular stride, controlling her breathing and heartbeat, and simply putting one foot in front of the other.
"Harry, wait," she said, stopping. "I don't understand. We're talking about the Goblins, here, right?"
He turned around again, walking back to where she was standing in the middle of the path, her creamy skin flushed by the exercise, her hands resting on her waist. Instead of answering, Harry reached out to her, pushing her against the trunk of one of the trees around them with a certain amount of careless strength, then pinned her there with his body and kissed her. Ginny felt her breath speed up once more, felt her body melting against his, her hands reach up in a slow, sinuous caress. His warm hands burned a trail on her waist and back, holding her against him, and she arched her back into the caress. A small part of her mind, probably the smart, analytical part, let her know this was a diversionary tactic. It was ignored among the delicious heat she always felt when Harry was feeling passionate. It wasn't something that happened as often as she would like. When his eyes would darken, and focus on her absolutely, making her feel beautiful and strong and desirable. He was the only one who had ever been able to do that to her, to make her quiver with a look, a touch, a smile. If she didn't see that answering fire in his gaze, she might have been annoyed with his power over her, but as it was, all she felt was intense joy that they were finally together. Even if it was here, in the edge of the forest. During their morning workout. Her eyes snapped open as she heard a throat clearing sharply.
She blushed to the roots of her hair seeing Michael leaning against another three, looking bored. "I hope you two realize that you have a limited amount of time to finish this circuit. I'm not absolutely against interruptions, per se, but you will have to make up for lost time. Just thought you should know. A simple friendly reminder."
In front of her, Harry had closed his eyes and taken a step away from her. He swallowed, taking a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes, looking at her, she realized he wasn't embarrassed, as she had thought, but rather trying to stop himself from laughing. The idiot was enjoying himself.
Her eyes flashed, and a small smile appeared on Harry's lips, before he said, rolling his eyes at Michael, "Come on, Gin, apparently we need to hurry."
"Yes, I think you should. You do have to finish this trail in the next fifteen minutes," Michael, the second idiot, was also enjoying himself. He didn't even bother to try to hide his amusement. With a long-suffering sigh, she took the lead, suddenly motivated to finish this thing as quickly as possible.
Harry, behind her, was laughing softly, obviously trying not to irritate her, and she smiled slightly at the sound. After all, she wasn't absolutely against alternative activities either.
Turning her head slightly to keep Harry on her peripheral vision, she asked, "Will you tell me what that was all about?"
"I've been reading the books I took out of my Family Vault," he answered. "And everything is so wrong!" he exclaimed, his pace picking up as his earlier aggravation made itself known. "The Council, the Accords, everything was meant to build trust, and unity. And what do we do with that foundation? We abuse the trust of our allies, we enslave our fellow magical creatures, the very creatures," he spat the word as if it was a curse, "that helped us build our society."
"What did you find in them, Harry?" Ginny asked, breathless from the exertion.
"They're family history books. Stuff I should have learned growing up. But since Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, placed me in the care of Muggles - and ignorant Muggles at that - I'm having to play catch up," there was so much irritation in his voice that she knew there was deeper meaning in his words, but for once she couldn't figure out just what the problem was.
"So what have you learned?"
His feet hit the ground, his speed increasing, and she was really struggling to keep up now. But then he stopped, hands resting on his knees, his breath coming in short gasps. She waited him out, holding her side where a sharp pain was making itself known.
"What have I learned," he whispered. And now there was anger as well in his voice. "I've learned that I have responsibilities, and people who depend on me, and the estate, that I have never met, and who don't even know who I am. That I have family traditions I should have been aware of. That being the Heir to a House isn't just a question of money and magical power."
Ginny frowned, and asked quietly, "But what is the problem, Harry?"
He turned away from her, and in an angry gesture kicked at a pebble on the ground, sending it sailing into the forest. "The problem is that I never knew! I've been talking to Nev: he's been prepared for this job since he was old enough to understand what his Gran was talking about. Even Malfoy is better prepared for this than me. We might not exactly agree on politics, but you can't deny he's much better equipped to navigate this world than I am."
"You and Malfoy don't agree on much more than just politics, Harry, but I understand what you're saying," Ginny said quietly.
"How could he, Ginny? How could he leave me with those people?" Harry ground out in frustration. "It was hard to understand even when I was just the Boy-Who-Lived, but this… This is negligence on the grossest scale. I could have been an active Heir for years – at least since I came to Hogwarts – if I'd been even a little prepared. But he never said a word, and I was so completely ignorant of everything I didn't even think to ask or to look." He ran an impatient hand through his slightly damp hair, pacing in front of her in agitation. "When I discovered, it made me wonder, you know, if maybe Dumbledore didn't want me to know, because what with my reputation, and my status, I could cause a lot of problems if I disagreed with him."
The way he talked about the Dursleys made Ginny's heart clench. She knew there was so much more he was leaving out, but felt this was not the time to bring up the past. So she stayed of track, and added her two cents. "And then he went and blocked Sirius' will…"
"Yes, you get it… It's like he's purposefully keeping me shut off from this part of my life."
Ginny thought about it for a second, a feeling of outrage on his behalf rising in her. "And you're the very last Potter. It has to be you."
"Yes! What if something had happened to me? I've been nearly killed so many times! There are things I can do, steps I can take to make sure that things run smoothly in case something happens." Ginny felt a chill run through her at the thought, but it was accompanied by something like pride as she realized that Harry might be new at this, but he was certainly thinking about it carefully and responsibly. "And the way I've acted when I discovered the magical world, and Hogwarts? Like a complete idiot… I've been neglecting so much without even knowing! It's embarrassing… To think that Malfoy was right some of the times he threw out insults!"
"Harry-" she tried to interrupt.
"But he was! Do you know that somewhere out there is my family ring? A signet ring, like the one Malfoy and Nev wear. Do you know what it means, when a rightful Heir doesn't wear it?"
She shook her head mutely - curious, and proud, and afraid all at the same time. She could see the emotions rolling out of him, and feel the magic shifting around her as he released the power his emotions conjured. It was becoming a common feeling around Harry, something she had come to associate solely with him.
"It's a message to the world that the Heir is renouncing his line! Rejecting his bloodline! To everyone with the slightest knowledge of History I've been acting as if I– As if I don't consider myself to be my parents' son."
Ginny felt the blood drain from her face. Harry had always been sensitive where family was concerned. Growing up in an abusive environment, only to then learn that his real family had loved him enough to die so he could live, it was an understandable feeling. To then learn that he had, unknowingly, been disrespecting their memory must be extremely painful.
It explained why Harry had been snapping at everyone lately. She had thought it was simply a consequence of his exhaustion after his near backlash, but he had seemed fine, otherwise. Learning all this was more than enough to explain his mood. But he seemed worse today, as if things had come to a head.
"What else, Harry?" she asked softly, taking his hand and squeezing softly.
"It isn't at Gringotts," he whispered dejectedly, leaning back against a tree. "I asked my accounts manager, then I asked John to go look himself. It isn't there. They checked all the jewellery. They sent me the Black ring, but mine wasn't there."
"Oh, that's right, Sirius made you his Heir as well," Ginny said thoughtfully.
Harry snorted, "It was either me or Malfoy, so I think it wasn't a difficult choice. And apparently we were distant cousins through my paternal grandmother."
"Yes, well, every pureblood family is related somewhere, if you go far enough away. What about Tonks?" Ginny asked curiously.
"He couldn't make her his Heir, I asked. Her mother was officially disowned and it's magically binding. I asked John to look into it, see if it's really not possible to reverse the decision. It should go to her, really."
Harry moved back to the trail, obviously intent on starting their run again, when Ginny said suddenly. "Harry." He turned back towards her, raising a curious eyebrow. "It wouldn't have been in the Vault. You said it yourself! Your father would have had it on!"
"Yes. He would have had it on," he said, frowning thoughtfully. Then the sudden light of realisation appeared in his eyes, followed closely by a burning rage. "Oh," he growled. "Oh no he didn't!" And without stopping for an explanation, Harry took off towards the castle, abandoning their circuit, cutting through forest paths to arrive at the castle as fast as possible.
Ginny followed at a more sedate pace, afraid of spraining an ankle or worse on the uneven terrain, wondering just what Harry had figured out, and wishing he had taken the time to let her know. She found Michael waiting for her in front of the doors, his eyebrows raised in enquiry. "I take it something happened?" he asked. "Harry just flew past here without even a by your leave, and he didn't look to be in a good mood." He paused. "I trust you aren't the problem?" he continued, in a more serious voice.
"What?" she asked indignantly, her eyes flashing. "I didn't do anything! We were talking and he figured something out!"
Michael raised his hands defensively, taking a cautious step back. "Okay, I'm sorry. But I needed to know, your relationship is somewhat central to what we are trying to do here, if you haven't realized yet, Ginny."
"I do know that, Michael," she replied, more calmly, knowing this was not a laughing matter. Their partnership demanded they have a certain openness to the other, a willingness to share emotions and magic, or nothing would work as well. The more Harry and her trained together, the more conscious they became of each other, so much so that sometimes she felt she knew where Harry was, or what he was feeling, even when they weren't in the middle of the Curator Tractus. "But we're fine."
She raised one booted feet to the railing of the stairs, and leaned, stretching out her leg. She fought down the blush threatening to rise, as she thought about just how fine things were. When she realised it was a loosing battle, she leaned in further, and hid her face between her arms as she counted silently.
"It certainly seemed that way when I caught the two of you this morning," Michael sniggered.
"Shut up! Not another word, Michael!" Ginny mumbled, switching legs.
He sighed, looking back at the castle. "I wonder what the emergency is now. I thought we were past all the emotional stuff. You know it's not my strong suit."
Ginny stifled a giggle, and said reassuringly, "I don't think you have to worry. Harry wasn't about to have a breakdown or anything. I suppose he might ask for help hiding the body, however."
"That won't be a problem," Michael responded. "Did he tell you anything before running off?" he asked more seriously.
"We were discussing his family. He's been discovering a lot of information that was kept from him, and it hasn't made him happy." She frowned slightly. "I think he just figured out where his signet ring is, and that's why he ran off."
"Ohhh." Michael said, and a gleeful smile lit his face. "Dumbledore is about to get a very nasty wake up call then!" He chortled, and then gave up trying to hide his mirth, "Merlin, Elektra warned him this would happen!" he added between laughs. "But the old man is just too stubborn and set in his ways! Oh, how I wish I could see this!"
Ginny frowned at her professor, and asked, "Are you telling me the Headmaster has it?" Michael nodded, drying his tears of mirth on his sleeve. "No wonder Harry was so angry then. He already blames the Headmaster for keeping him from his bloodright, and letting him enter the wizarding world completely ignorant of who and what he is."
That statement wiped the smile off Michael's face. "That's understandable. The first time I saw Harry, I wondered why he wasn't wearing his ring, why he acted like he did…" He paused a second, deep in thought. "It's more than just the ring, really," he continued, thoughtfully. "It's even more than his clothes or his bearing… Being an Heir is almost more a state of mind than just money or status." He gave a bark of laughter. "After all, many of the Houses have lost everything over the years, only keeping the magic and the traditions. And the important things remain, when the family is committed, and have a string leader. The things that go beyond property and wealth. Harry didn't have that foundation, I realise, and it showed in everything he did. But he's changed since then – he's coming into his own. Maybe he'll be able to pull it off, after all."
Ginny nodded, and asked quietly, "How do you know so much about it?"
Michael sighed. "There aren't only Noble Houses, Ginny. There are quite a few Lesser ones as well. I grew up in that society, but I have avoided getting mixed up in politics since I joined the Cursors." He paused, as if questioning the wisdom of continuing with his tale. "I'm the second born, so technically my older sister is the Heir. She had to take over the family when she was barely nineteen, after our parents where murdered near the end of the first war, and she had a hard time holding on to her claim – suddenly there were uncles and cousins who thought they were better suited for the job, never mind that she had the legal right to it, and they wanted nothing more than to see her fail. Seeing her fight all that while having to take care of younger brothers… Well, it made me question a lot of things. Made my decision to join easier as well, when it was offered…" He sighed, seeming lost in memories, an old pain flashing in his eyes. Ginny felt that what she had been told was really only the tip of the iceberg, but didn't feel comfortable asking questions. She was surprised to have been told this much – Michael was by no means shy, and he talked constantly, but never about personal things.
Ginny put her feet back down on the floor, leaning down once to touch the floor, before giving a quick nod, indicating she was ready to go inside. Michael opened the doors, holding them for Ginny to pass, and asked cheerfully, "So, are you up for a little sparring with yours truly, since your usual partner has abandoned us?"
Harry stomped through the Hogwarts corridors with a single destination in mind. He knew, rationally, that he was doing something stupid, and that confronting the Headmaster when he was this angry was not the smartest thing he would ever do. However, reason had taken a backseat to emotion in his brain just then, and he couldn't bring himself to care that he would probably damage his already rocky relationship with the man, perhaps irreparably. He simply could not believe Dumbledore had done what he suspected he had. When he had heard Ginny's comment, everything had suddenly snapped into focus, all the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place. Of course his father would never take off his ring. And who had had access to his parents' personal possessions? Who had given him his father's Invisibility Cloak? Who had deliberately kept him in the dark, and refused to answer questions regarding his family? At that thought, he felt his anger start slipping out of control, and he slowed down slightly, breathing deeply to try to get a hang on his temper. Not that he really wanted to let go of it – for once, he was angry about something he could react to, and that was more than he could say about his usual concerns.
Arriving in front of the Headmaster's Gargoyle, he put his hand on its head and, drawing energy from the castle around him, forced his way through the enchantments that formed the guardian until he found the switch that opened the door, and threw it open with an effort of will. He knew he had just made the ugly stone statue an enemy for life, but couldn't bring himself to care; he just wanted to get to the Headmaster.
He took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to be quiet. The door wasn't locked, and after a second's hesitation and a reminder to himself that this was not a normal visit, he opened it without knocking, barging in. The headmaster was standing near the window, eyes turned towards the door – he had obviously heard him on the stairs. Fawkes was snoozing on his perch, but seemed to feel the wave of emotions entering the room, because he blinked sleepily, and sang a few warbled notes, obviously trying to relieve the tension. For once, Harry resisted the comfort of Phoenix Song, and chose instead to glare at the Headmaster.
The older wizard seemed to deflate slightly, and motioned towards the desk, as if asking if they should bother sitting down. Harry didn't move, warily watching the man who had had such a profound impact in his life. The leader of the light, the Defeater of Grindelwald. The man had so many titles, so much responsibility, and yet he obviously had lost sight of the trees in the middle of the forest. Harry was so heartily sick of feeling like a chess piece.
People had been lying to him since before he could stand up, all in the interest of his safety, but no one had bothered to see if survival where he was placed was even worth it. There had been quite a few times, with the Dursleys, he had wondered if death or abandonment wasn't a better alternative. He had realised very early that in that household, nothing he did would ever be worthwhile. If he hadn't been witness to a few acts of kindness – from teachers, mostly, sometimes from complete strangers – he wondered just what his perception of the world would be. If maybe he'd think that the Dursleys' behaviour was normal and acceptable.
And then he had discovered a new world, and the truth about his parents. He stifled a bitter laugh at that. What he had thought was the truth, but was actually nothing more than little dribbles of information to keep him interested. But he'd discovered proof of what before he had only felt vaguely. That he had been loved, once, and that his being left to the Dursleys made no sense. And all of it came back to the man in front of him. Harry knew Dumbledore was not a bad person, and that he had mostly worked towards the greater good. He just wanted the Headmaster to stop treating him like one of his hidden weapons.
In front of him, the twinkle disappeared from the old man's eyes as he perceived the emotions rolling off his student, and he asked tiredly, "What has happened now, Harry?"
Harry took a deep breath, and made a conscious effort not to snap, as he said, "Did you know I read my parents' Will, Professor?" He lifted his eyes, and met the Headmaster's gaze. "What I want to know, Professor, is if you ever bothered doing that. I want to know if you wilfully disregarded their wishes, or if you simply believed your opinion was so much more important than theirs, your understanding so infallible you didn't bother checking what they wished done with me." He took a step further into the room, once more trying to control his temper, feeling his magic churn, but being careful to let it flow through him and into the castle where it had as little effect as a pebble falling into a pond.
The Headmaster's eyes turned sad, and he moved towards his desk, sitting down heavily. "Is that what you want to talk about, Harry?" he asked softly.
"No," Harry snapped back angrily. "That was just something I am curious about. What I want, Professor, is my father's ring." His eyes flashed and for a second he lost control of the magic coursing through him, but he let out a breath and with an effort of will let the power flow through him.
"What makes you think I have it?" the Headmaster asked quietly, his expression a veiled mask of calm.
"Please," Harry answered with a contemptuous glare, "it might have taken me a while to discover all this, but don't insult my intelligence by playing dumb. You had the Cloak; it's obvious you have the signet ring as well. Did you think handing me a trinket, an amusing toy would excuse you from hiding my inheritance from me, Professor?"
The older man sighed, and leaned back in his chair, and his age was suddenly very apparent. "I wished for you to have as normal a childhood as possible, Harry. I feared you had too much responsibility already, and did not wish to overwhelm you."
Harry took a long moment to consider these words, finally whispering quietly, "I wonder if you really believe that, Headmaster. It sounds to me like an awfully weak excuse, and frankly, quite beneath you. I'd respect you more if you simply admitted what you've done." In front of him, the Headmaster seemed to flinch at the accusation, but he didn't speak. "Maybe I could excuse you for dumping me with my relatives, even though I doubt you could be really so very ignorant of what went on there. In the rush of the moment, with Death Eaters on the loose, Sirius getting arrested, there are acceptable excuses. But knowing what I do now, I can't excuse you for sending me back, once I returned to the wizarding world, and I made it clear I didn't want to go back, and for very good reasons. I know you've been using Legilimency on me since I arrived at this school. You knew what my life was like." He grabbed the back of one of the chairs in front of the desk, his knuckles white with strain, his eyes flashing. "You deprived me of my heritage, Professor! And not in exchange for a loving family or some such. Not even for survival, really – Voldemort was gone, I'm sure something could have been arranged." Harry stopped talking, realizing he was babbling. But when he had read the list of names that followed Sirius' in his parents' Will as potential guardians - a list, because they had known there was a war going on, and no one's survival was assured - he had nearly snapped.
Taking a deep breath, he came back to the matter at hand. "Just because I didn't grow up in the Wizarding World doesn't mean I can't understand its symbols. I know what it means that I have never been seen in public wearing my family's ring." Harry glanced pointedly at his Professors' hand, and added, "I see that you do too. And for that I can't excuse you. You had no right. So where is it, Professor?"
The Headmaster seemed to gather himself at that, and looking at his angry student, seemed to realize there was nothing to be said. He stood up and walked to the shelves behind his desk, reaching for a small jewellery box he then handed to Harry.
"For what it is worth, Harry, I was trying to make sure you survived. I wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possibly, since I knew it couldn't last long," he said in a soft voice, watching him open the box and look at the family heirloom.
"And you did a bang-up job, didn't you?" Harry mumbled, his eyes fixed in the signet ring resting in the soft velvet. Looking at it he realized it wasn't actually a signet ring, as he had been told: while he could see his family seal carved in the back through the stone, the face of the ring was actually a ruby, in a simple, elegant setting. Now that it was in his hands, he was almost afraid to touch it. He could feel the magic in the ring, and it felt incomplete, as if it was dormant, but Harry knew that would change the moment he put it on his finger. Deciding it was time to get on with it, especially after he had raised such hell in order to get his hands on the bloody thing, he pulled the ring out and slipped it on.
The first thing he felt was the gentle warmth of the magic activating, checking his identity and adjusting the size of the ring to his finger. Then came the sudden rush of information, magical sensations and connections he had been blind to before. He was suddenly acutely aware of the castle around him, of the slow, heavy magic permeating the structure. He could feel the wards surrounding the property, and instinctively knew its strengths and weaknesses accumulated over the centuries, knowing he could separate each layer, and tell who had put it up. It took him a long moment to gather himself out of the rush of sensations and information tumbling painfully inside his brain, but after a moment and a conscious effort of will, the waterfall started to dwindle. After some time, he managed to relegate the new awareness to the back of his mind, where it became more of a possible recourse, there if he needed, but not occupying all of his thoughts and perceptions.
He opened his eyes slowly, wondering how long that had taken, and suddenly realized he had a splinting headache, but that didn't stop his brain from making connections. He knew he wasn't supposed to be able to feel the wards. That was usually something reserved for the Headmaster. Abruptly a number of his questions were answered, but more cropped up, his thoughts running a mile a minute. Frowning slightly, he whispered, "So it is true, Eleanor Gryffindor married Alaric Potter. And only a true Gryffindor…" He let out a startled laugh, his eyes moving towards the gleaming sword still on display in one of the shelves. "You knew all along." Shaking his head, he closed his eyes for a second, feeling overwhelmed by events. "And now I know how The Marauders found all those secret passages." He narrowed his eyes, and glanced once more at the Headmaster, rubbing his temples.
"Is this why you never told me? But why? My father was here for seven years and you obviously didn't have a problem with that."
The headmaster sighed, resting his head on one hand as he sat behind his desk. "Maybe I was wrong, Harry-"
Harry interrupted brusquely, "You were wrong, Professor. There is no excuse for what you did."
"Maybe, Harry. But will you at least promise not to interfere with the wards? There is a delicate balance-"
"Professor, I'm not a complete moron," Harry interrupted again, feeling some of his earlier aggravation returning. "There's no earthly reason I'd touch them, especially since I know next to nothing about ward construction." He didn't want to continue this conversation. He was still reeling from this latest piece of family history, his anger at the Headmaster had not abated, and the light from the window was only worsening the headache he had developed from the information overload his brain had received.
He lifted his eyes, and then moved towards the Sword of Gryffindor, "I do believe this is mine, Professor," he said. And shook his head once more. "Talk about a missed opportunity to tell me about my heritage, huh, Professor?" he added, with dark humour. "But no… You chose to have a little fun at my expense, and drop cryptic remarks as usual." He sighed, holding the sword in his hand. It fit much better than it had when he was twelve, the weight no longer uncomfortable, and the hilt snug in his palm. "It's disappointing but not a surprise."
Harry sighed, examining the blade, then waved his wand and cast a shrinking charm on it, so that it fit in his pocket. "I'll be taking this. I think I know where its scabbard is, and I do so wonder what will happen when I join the two."
"Harry," Dumbledore exclaimed, standing up, but once more Harry cut him off.
"Enough, Professor. It's not yours. If you have a problem with this, take it up with the Wizengamot, but you should keep in mind that I won't simply sit back and let it happen. I have a very good barrister whose specialty is Council Law. Things you would prefer to be kept hidden just might suddenly come to light, and now is not the time for any of us to be spending political capital on internal battles." His eyes went cold, and he continued, "Unless you plan on taking it from me now, maybe sealing up the room until I bow to your will? I wonder if Hogwarts will let you do that now that it knows I'm here?"
"Of course not, Harry. You are free to go. I only hope we might someday move past this," the Headmaster said softly.
"Maybe, Professor. But I feel it's always one step forward, three steps back with you, sir." And with a small nod, he turned around and left, not absolutely certain what he felt about the whole thing, but glad that he had, finally, found that missing link to his family.
Elektra was waiting for her wayward student in front of the Room of Requirement, wondering how much longer she should wait, when he appeared on the seventh floor corridor, rubbing his temples, and with bleary eyes.
"Hey, Harry," she greeted him. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Harry mumbled, "I have a headache."
"This early in the morning?" she asked, eyebrows rising.
"Yes, well, the Headmaster can have that effect on people," Harry snapped. "Are we going in?"
Elektra frowned, not used to such behaviour from her usually good-natured student. "I think we'll stay a minute longer, Harry, and you can tell me what's wrong with you," she replied, frowning at the young man in front of her in fond annoyance.
"It's nothing, really, I just had a long overdue conversation with the Headmaster about my family, and now I have a very bad headache."
As he said that, she finally noticed the ring on his finger, and her eyes widened slightly. No wonder the boy had a headache; family rings were notoriously magical artefacts. "I see you finally found your family ring. It's good to see it on someone's finger again."
"Yes," Harry mumbled. "It's very nice, except for the pounding in my head, so can we please go in, at least so I can sit down. Then I'll answer all the questions you may have."
"Of course. Come in. It's unfortunate you found out as you did, Harry. I told the headmaster he was making a mistake."
"You knew where my ring was?" Harry asked incredulously, rounding on her. "You never said anything!"
"I would have had you ever brought up the subject, Harry. And I would have told you shortly either way, I was simply waiting… I don't know what I was waiting for, honestly. Probably for the Headmaster to do the right thing, since I felt it wasn't my place, and I'd already threatened to tell you myself, so…" She paused. "Well, I thought he would, since you've gone to the Vault, and it was only a matter of time before you started asking questions and finding things out."
Harry frowned, obviously unhappy with her answer, but chose not to respond, instead requesting a lounger from the Room and laying down. At the same time, the lights dimmed to a diffuse glow, enough to see by but obviously more comfortable for Harry, who finally opened his eyes completely.
She took a chair opposite his, and said softly, "I was going to tell you, Harry. One of the first arguments I had with the Headmaster was precisely about this, and I sincerely hoped he would come around. I thought he had a right to explain why he did what he did, and maybe start fixing things. I didn't want to take his place."
Harry snorted, obviously thinking back on his conversation with Dumbledore. "Yes, he explained all right. As with all the other abysmally stupid decisions he made in regards to my life, it was apparently done for my own good." He groaned, and Elektra wondered if it was more angry or disappointed. "I would really like it if people stopped using that as an excuse to hide things, or make choices for me. When I was a toddler I could understand it, but I'm not one anymore, and I'd really appreciate being treated as someone with a functioning brain. I'm not even shooting for adult anymore, you know? Just a reasonably sensible person would do."
Elektra laughed at that, the tinkling sound reverberating through the small room they had requested, and she asked, "I take it things didn't go well then?"
"As well as can be expected, I suppose, when I'm dealing with the Headmaster. But this time even he had to admit he had gone too far. You don't see him walking around without his family ring, do you?"
"And do you have any plans, now that you have that ring?" she asked more seriously.
"Well, for starters I want to be present during the next session of the Wizengamot, and I'm planning on taking Neville along. I needed the ring to have access to my seat and to cast a vote, but that is no longer an issue. I want to be there when that whole Will thing gets resolved, and I'll try to get Sirius' name cleared as well." He closed his eyes tightly, and Elektra knew he had to be battling some strong emotions, if the surge of energy in the room was any indication. But he got control of himself quickly enough, and she couldn't help the surge of pride that accompanied the feeling. They had spent hours and hours together, working on his magic, but the results were undeniable. Her charge didn't even seem to notice what he had done, even if a couple of weeks before he might have lost control, or required her help to let go of the magic: he just continued presenting his plans. "Merlin knows it's too little, too late, but I had no idea before I could make a difference, that I had a place of recourse. One more thing I can blame on Dumbledore's little games." Harry snorted, but it was an anguished sound, and she felt her heart clench at the sound. She had known Sirius as a passing acquaintance, and she respected him if only for the impact he left on those that loved him. James had thought of him as a brother, and it was clear Harry had relied on him. "If I'd known, I'd have done something earlier, and maybe Sirius would have been fine, and maybe I would have had a home by now."
"That's a lot of maybes, Harry," Elektra said softly. "I think it's best to move forward, don't you? There will be more time to grieve once this war is over…"
The boy sighed softly, but nodded. "I know. Well, I think I'll have to clear Sirius' name somehow to be able to validate his Will. I've had my attorney working on things, and we have a few ideas on how to go about doing that. And he says once it's done, the rest will simply fall in place. After all, in Council Law emancipation can be granted for an Heir as young as twelve, if he is the last of his line. It is considered better to have someone young as the Head of a Family than an empty seat. Since my guardian actually spelled it out in his Will, there is absolutely no grounds for dismissal, and I have ample proof that I am the last Potter, and that I have the right to follow Council Law."
"Indeed, no one can deny that the Potters are one of the Noble Houses, and you have already manifested your talent, that alone should count for something." She paused to consider everything he had said, and suddenly asked, "Are you also the Black Heir?" He nodded. "You should put on the other ring then. They will merge, since the Houses are now united under one head."
Harry frowned slightly, then said, "But I'm trying to get someone else to take over the Black House."
Elektra shook her head lightly, once more cursing Dumbledore for the complete lack of education he had provided for the Heir of one of the most important wizarding families still in existence. "That doesn't matter, Harry. They don't actually become one ring, if the Heir changes, the ring will know, and they will separate again. For example, if you have more than one child and you want each one to take over a house, the rings will split up. Those things are actually common knowledge," she sighed, "so common, I wonder if people actually bothered to write any of it down…"
"Yeah, there's a lot of that in the books I'm reading – they talk of things that should be evident for someone who was brought up in the family, so most don't bother to spell the basics out. Neville is helping me get up to speed."
"That's good. When will the Winzengamot be meeting, Harry? You'll have to know how to act, and how to dress… Have you thought about those things?"
Harry sat up slowly, but nodded slightly, resting his head on his hands. "As I said, Neville is helping me, and John, that's my attorney, has promised to meet with me beforehand to go over the details. By the way, the next gathering should take place during the winter holidays. Not as soon as I'd hoped, but at least it gives us time to prepare. There's so much to do…"
"You mean, more than what you told me?"
He raised his eyes, and the mischievous light in them made her smile. "You have no idea! And the old coots won't know what hit them, you'll see. I can't even say I'll be modernizing the institution, it's more like putting it back the way it was always supposed to be."
Elektra smiled slightly, and rolled her eyes. "I really don't want to know, Harry." She stood up then, and said, "I see you are in no shape to train today. I thought we might start the next phase, but I think we should wait till tomorrow."
He jumped up at that announcement, his eyes bright with curiosity and eagerness. "Really? You think I can start gathering outside magic? Does that mean I've finally stabilised my conduits?"
She laughed at Harry's newfound enthusiasm, and changed the room to their usual training ground. "Sit down, let's check you out, and then we'll see."
Harry reread the last paragraph of the latest letter he had received, and felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. It was nice to know at least a small part of his plans were working as they should. He was slowly coming to the conclusion that Goblin politics were better left alone, and trying to reason with the Headmaster about the Ministry was the equivalent of slamming his head against a brick wall. But with John and the Wizengamot, he could be present, and he could actually make a difference. He wasn't about to abandon Ragnok, and he was determined to make sure the Goblin Nation remained their ally, but there was a very strong opposition in the goblin government, and the majority necessary to make any sort of decision in the Council forced everything to move slowly. Harry thought, with an internal snort, that he was starting to see the uses of a dictatorship, or at least some sort of emergency state that allowed decisions to actually be made and enforced.
He needed to find Neville, and make sure he was still on board with everything. His dorm-mate had become his unofficial tutor on everything family related. Harry thought ruefully that Neville's quiet, hesitant attitude hid probably one of the most capable Heirs hiding in the school. He doubted even Malfoy had had quite as complete an education. Neville knew everyone at the Wizengamot, and was capable of enumerating character, likes, dislikes, pet-peeves, dirty secrets and past indiscretions of all the movers and shakers of that hallowed institution. Add to that the fact that he held the procuration for his father's vote, and he had suddenly become an integral part of all of Harry's plans.
He found the other boy in their common room, reviewing plans for the next D.A. meeting with Ginny. Harry threw a strong privacy charm and a proximity alarm around their table, before joining them. He sat down in the chair next to Ginny's, and gave her a quick kiss in welcome, savouring the way her breath caught and she pressed a little closer to him.
"Gin, Nev, how are things going?" he asked, checking their progress.
"We're about done with next weeks' meeting, Harry," Ginny answered, passing him a piece of parchment listing their plans and exercises.
"This seems good, I'll run it past Professor Tedakis tomorrow, and we should be good to go." He rolled the parchment, and stuck it in his school bag, before turning back to his friends. "This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Nev. Are you done with your homework for today? I must go over our plans for the Wizengamot with you – I need to write to John, and be sure everything is in place for our meeting next weekend. You'll be there, right? Lunch at the Three Broomsticks? I'll make sure we have a private room to chat." He handed his notes and the letter to the other boy, and waited for him to read everything over.
Nodding, Neville handed them back, smiling slightly, "Those seem fine, Harry. And I'll be sure to be there for the meeting to smooth over any last minute details. I think we just might be able to pull it off." His smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "With any luck, this will make our duties easier to bear."
Harry sighed, his expression darkening. "There's so much, Nev… I wonder how you've been doing it this long."
Neville's face stilled, his eyes remote, but his voice was calm and serious as he said, "It isn't a burden, Harry. People say a lot of crap about duty, as if it's inherently bad, or disagreeable. As if any sort of moral obligation is necessarily unpleasant. But this – this gives us purpose. It gives our lives meaning." He shook his head, meeting Harry's eyes with a solemn gaze. "There is a lot, but you mustn't think of it as an imposition. You'll make yourself miserable. It is an honour, and a duty, but it can also be gratifying beyond anything you've ever known, I'd wager."
Harry looked at him, slightly taken aback by such a serious answer to his casual comment, but didn't dismiss the advice. He had learned the hard way that wisdom often came in such unasked for and unforeseen moments.
Ginny interrupted the slightly strained silence. "I agree completely, Nev. Where would we be without duty, right? To ourselves, to our families…" She sighed slightly. "There were times when that was all that kept me going – the knowledge that there were people who needed me, and who relied on me to be there for them."
Harry squeezed her hand slightly, understanding implicitly that she was talking about those dark years after the Diary debacle, and felt a stirring of guilt for his own blindness and thoughtlessness. She had been there when it had been his time to despair.
But Neville had turned his eyes to her as she spoke, and they didn't notice the pained look that crossed his face, even as he listened to them talking.
"Yes," Neville said earnestly, "exactly! No matter what horrible thing might happen in my life, how completely fed up with my life I get, I know there are more important things out there, people depending on me. I don't know where I'd be without responsibility, you know?" He gave a short, bittersweet laugh. "Maybe it's because it's been drummed into me since I was a baby, so I don't have much perspective on it, but it's become as much a part of me as anything else."
Ginny smiled mischievously, and said, "Not going to turn lord of the manor on us, are you Nev?"
He grinned back in reply, and answered, "I'll save that for when you come visit me at Ashwood." He turned serious again, and turned to Harry, seeming more tentative now, since his friend was still silent. "I hope you don't take what I said the wrong way, Harry. I know how much you have on your plate right now, but I learned long ago that it's better not to resent our responsibilities, or life becomes horrible."
Harry smiled tiredly, "Don't worry, Nev. I understand. I think I even agree. I just felt overwhelmed for a second, you know? We're living these double lives – the respectable Heir, but also the leader of this covert resistance we're forming – and sometimes I wonder how I can keep it separate."
"But why should you, Harry? Members of the Council have always been leaders, not just politicians. It's only during the last few terms that we've seen such a complete reversal of its original goals. Some of the people I've contacted for you had even stopped attending the sessions because of it, you know? If we manage to turn it back into it's original form, and then create an united front to fight this war, we won't have to hide anymore and everything will be much simpler."
"So what you're saying is that all of this is temporary and that I should simply suck it up?" Harry asked with a more genuine smile.
Neville grinned back, "Exactly."