Chapter Four
by Lionheart
Author's Rant:
Probably the saddest thing about Harry Potter fanfiction is that
those stories where every single person betrays him flow so easily, and
the ones where anything at all goes right for him seem so forced.
But then, what has Rowling done to make him happy? There were a few moments in Book 1, like where he discovered magic or made his first ever friends. But lately those friends... sigh, it's so believable when a fan-author has them turn on Harry, sell him out or otherwise betray him. And you don't have to stretch the imagination at all for the Ministry to be performing something unspeakably vile and unfair to hurt him, as that's straight out of the original! It's like connecting Hermione and books, that's just what they do!
The original author has built a series in which hurting Harry seems to be the only thing that all sides agree on. How twisted is that?
Disclaimer: I want you to carefully consider what you've been smoking if you think any of these characters belong to me.
----
"Where are we going?" Hermione bobbed around excitedly as the goddess guided them back to the TV set she'd emerged from.
"The Malfoy Manor first," Urd soberly replied.
The Granger girl went pale with shock. "But that's not what I wished for. I wanted us to be integrated with our past selves, like Harry was."
Urd met her concerned gaze with a kindly expression. "But you didn't wish to be integrated with your younger selves, Hermione. You wanted new bodies. I did ask if you were so sure on that."
"I... I didn't know what it would mean." The Granger girl trembled.
"Now, now." The goddess comforted. "I am doing what I can to mitigate your errors somewhat. You know, this is why an off the cuff wish is better. With some room to interpret we can give you what you really want instead of what you spelled out in excruciating detail. And not knowing how Heaven or the wish system works, you don't know the right things to say, so you can't describe it in the kind of language that would get you what you want, the way you want it, as well as we could. But I'll do what I can to make things turn out as well for you as I can, alright?"
Turning directly to face the trio, Urd kindly soothed, "It won't be so bad. This way you dodge one of the major downsides people get through integrating with their past selves (if they don't want to change everything, that is) which is boredom. You all just wanted to live the same lives over again, for the most part. But what hurts the most for those who do that is nothing is challenging, nothing new, when you've already lived that same life before. The same trips happen, you get the same presents, the same people come over to visit, and those few who have asked for it describe it as one of the worst aspects of the experience. It is encoded in your souls to want to grow, and stagnating is one of the worst punishments you can get. People who have gone that route end up tearing their former lives apart, not making the friends they once did, or achieving the same victories, just because the boring down times got to them so badly they began lashing out to make anything different. It may not be what you wanted, but I'll do what I can to make this wish turn out even better than the one you were intending, alright?"
With a brilliant smile, she added, "Who knows? Maybe this really might have turned out better than the wish you were intending, anyway. Still, I'd love to help it along." Putting one foot inside the screen of the TV set, the display became a brilliant surge of colors. Urd then held out a hand to the ghosts, indicating they should follow her. One by one, they did. Once the last had entered, Urd went the rest of the way through herself.
On the other side they emerged from an enchanted painting on the wall of a great and darkly decorated home. "I thought we were going to have to emerge from the village and fly to the Malfoy home. I know the Malfoys don't have a fellymission set." Ginny mused.
"Moving pictures are moving pictures," Urd gave her a distracted reply, scanning their environment.
"If you knew what we wanted, why didn't you grant us life on the first wish?" Luna penetrated the goddess with her gaze.
Urd glanced back at her. "Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't at my best. I was uncomfortable and just wanted out of there. So I took a shorthand route to getting done. It was unfair, and I apologize. If Heaven hadn't authorized Hermione's wish and obligated performance of it by the Ultimate Force, I would have probably have snuck through a full completion of what you wanted the first time and integrated you with your younger selves. But now I won't be able. So I'll have to promise you a favor to be named later, seeing as how Hermione basically lost her wish trying to get what I should've granted you the first time."
"A favor?" Ginny asked.
"By rights, it properly belongs to Hermione," the goddess clarified. "And it will be on my own powers, not the wish system. So it's not really a full value replacement. But it is the best I can do."
Urd glanced at her cell phone, as if expecting a call. When nothing happened, she shrugged, seeming bemused as she led them off through the manor.
They passed through a wall, appearing at the head of a set of secret stairs leading down to a hidden sub-basement. Once at the bottom, they saw figures they recognized as the Malfoy family arranged around a curiously formed altar dressed in ceremonial robes. A one-year-old Draco was sitting back by the wall on a deeply green plush cushion, while in it's mother's arms was another baby, just days old.
Everything was frozen. Candles refused to flicker, and it was obvious to the three ghosts that they were watching a scene on pause, stopped between the ticks of time.
Urd began an explanation without prompting. "The ancient Purebloods are crazy about magical purity in their bloodlines. Thus the highly imaginative name. However, in their quest for that it leads to some dark practices we do not approve of. This is one of them. In order to avoid the embarrassment of a squib being born into the family, the more fanatical ones test their children for power only a few days after their birth, where they place a baby in danger of various forms to see if its innate magic will protect it at all. If it does not, they destroy it, rather than have a child grow up who wouldn't be a proper witch or wizard."
Urd frowned at the frozen scene, not acknowledging the gasps from ghosts behind her. She continued in disapproving tones. "This one is a test based on the four elements. It is believed that if they dunk a child in water it will float via magic rather than drown, or the fire will not burn it. Basically, they give their own kid four chances to do something magical or get hurt. If it fails each time they destroy it. Nevermind the fact that some of the best magical children wouldn't respond to such things because their gifts aren't aimed toward that sort of threat. How you'd know if your kid is a seer from that kind of test is beyond me. But they are sure these disgusting practices are what will make them strong."
"What... what is going to happen here?" Hermione asked, googly-eyed.
The goddess sighed. "In your original timeframe? This girl failed all four tests, and Lucius Malfoy blasted her to pieces. The shock was bad enough his wife lost her ability to have more children, so Draco became an only child. It failed to significantly change how he turned out."
"Why are we here?" Ginny probed, fearful of herself.
A platinum head drooped. "Because the way the Ultimate Force resolved to fulfill Hermione's wish calls for each of you to be given new bodies, placed in circumstances that fill holes which otherwise would have formed, saving lives where possible. One of you will be displacing this child. She will be sent off to another family, probably as someone's twin. And whichever one of you chooses to take over for her will get a brand new infant body in her position. Each family will be made to believe the girl they receive is their daughter."
She raised a hand to cut Hermione off and favored her with a kindly smile. "Don't call in your favor now, kiddo. I'm already going to do all I can to make everything bearable for each of you. But the instructions I received were to fill three certain slots, that's not up to me to change at this point."
Instead, Hermione licked ghostly dry lips and asked, "What is her name?"
Her response was a kind but sad smile. "The Malfoys don't believe in naming their kids until they've passed a test like this one. But in her heart, the child's mother wants to give her the name Pomona. However, she'll almost certainly be overruled by her husband, who wants to call a daughter Anastasia."
"I will take over this position," Luna volunteered.
"Why?" both her friends blurted, horrified at the thought.
They were answered with a somewhat off smile. "To save you both from being Malfoys, of course."
A bit humbled by her sacrifice for them, they meekly nodded.
"Besides," Luna continued. "I want to see if it is really true that dryads frolicking in her private woods is what drove Druzella Malfoy mad enough to paint her son orange when he was ten, and address all of his Hogwarts mail to: Carrot-Top."
"Yes," Urd calmly replied. "They didn't like her a bit, but it traumatized Lucius for life to have his mother do that to him. To this day he's deathly afraid of dryads and doesn't go out into forests if he can help it."
Ginny and Hermione spent a moment gaping, while Luna issued forth another smile, this one flavored with a hint of triumph.
Urd was regarding Luna seriously. "Now, you know you are magical already, but in order to make this test more bearable for you I've decided to grant you one of the lost gifts of magic, one that Father hasn't sent to anyone for awhile because of past abuses."
"What abuses?" Ginny probed, glad it wasn't her in danger.
"What gift?" Hermione also probed, more out of curiosity for her friend's future.
Well-tanned shoulders gave a tiny shrug. "A Firelord, in this case lady. You see it in comic books a fair amount. The most famous historical one was named Bridgette, and the Celts confused her for a goddess of fire. They tend to get involved in wars alot, as their magical gift lends itself to combat better than most. Father stopped sending them when the last one got fed to a beast as a baby in a test alot like this one, by parents believing that a child who couldn't soothe a hungry wolf was obviously nonmagical."
Urd made a disgusted face. "Just like people like the Malfoys have destroyed beast-speakers in tests alot like the one they're doing now."
Giving herself a small shake, Urd turned her attention to Luna. "You'll still look like you did before, with some modifications as per Hermione's wish. So, are there any questions before you take the plunge?"
Luna nodded. "Was Draco the first born?"
One could easily tell Urd did not like the topic, but she answered it. "No, he was third. But the first two children failed their tests, just as this one would have done. Anything else, say, on a happier topic?"
Luna smiled softly. "Why are children so apt to forget to remember with up so floating many bells down? Or when someones marry their everyones, laugh their crying and do their dance, they say their nevers and sleep their dreams?"
Suddenly laughing, Urd leaned forward and whispered in the ghost's ear, bringing a sudden bright twinkling of understanding to Luna's eyes.
"When a felon's not engaged in his employment, when a criminal's not occupied in crime, their capacity for innocent enjoyment, is it as great as any honest man?" she asked.
"No," the goddess told her frankly. "I don't have a good analogy for it, really. But to the extent you fill yourself up with a desire for good things, to that same extent you can't tolerate the bad, and vice versa. There's no mixing. Those who give themselves over to evil lose those parts that are able to appreciate the simple joys. They burn them away, and seek their pleasure in less innocent pursuits."
Luna nodded. "Do fairies truly get addicted easily to mugwort syrup? And do they truly smell it and seek it out for miles?"
"No, on both counts," Urd shook her head. "But the wizard who thought so had a three year old daughter who'd cast a charm with his wand that caused the jello pudding of his muggle neighbor to do the same thing. He'd just ascribed that effect to the wrong source."
Luna nodded. "I am ready."
Her two friends eyes were bugging out over her choices of questions.
Urd looked at them, puzzled. "What? Everything she asked was perfectly relevant. Narcissa is scared to death of fairies. If her daughter knows something to attract them, she can get all of the private time she wants by dodging into a forest, where Lucius would never go, and calling some fairies, which her mother cannot stand to get close to. That makes it almost not an issue to have evil people for parents, because she can protect herself from them at need."
"I'm sorry," Ginny ventured. "We're just not used to someone who understands what Luna means when she says anything."
Hermione nodded, agreeing. "We've been close to her for years and only about half of her statements make any sense."
Urd gave a negligent shrug. "Then you need to learn to listen better."
Not waiting for another question, the platinum haired goddess raised a hand toward the infant in its mother's arms, which vanished in a flash of light. An instant later, Luna the ghost was gone and a fresh new baby was in Narcissa Malfoy's embrace, looking (being honest here) alot like the baby that had just vanished.
Time was no longer on pause and the scene progressed.
A tremulous Narcissa, filled with concern and fear, handed her child over to Lucius who, with some ancient chants full of self-congratulatory phrases instead of magic effects, moved to plunge his child into the water.
From her new perspective Luna could see that Lucius, now her father, was missing an eye. The recent injury of a gaping, empty socket leered at her, and she made that known to her friends before using her new divine gift to send a cone of fire into the man's face, searing the flesh of his chest and hands - a cone that was cut off abruptly as the man dropped her, stumbling back, and Luna got dunked into the water.
Narcissa fished her out instantly, getting her ceremonial robes soaking as she did so, and only then looked over in concern towards her husband, whose injuries were not as bad as they might have been.
"I think little Pomona proved herself, don't you darling?"
Her husband scowled, but there was some cheer there as well. Already he was planning on what to do with a daughter who could produce flames. A rare gift indeed! But he recovered enough to scoff, "Pomona? A nymph who grew trees? Ridiculous! She will have a name to reflect her glory, equal to an empress! She shall be called Anastasia!"
"Anastasia Pomona Malfoy?" Narcissa ventured, trying to settle for second place with a middle name of her choosing instead of nothing, which Lucius was far more than likely to leave her.
The murderer considered turning down her request just for the sheer maliciousness of doing it, then conceded. "Very well, but she shall have one more name to reflect a power that shall make our enemies fear and tremble, and remind them of our proud ancestry. She shall be called Anastasia Bridgette Pomona Malfoy, and any mudbloods who know our history ought to take warning at the reminder of why our ancestry makes us more powerful than they!"
"Quite pompous, isn't he?" Luna giggled over their shared mental link.
"Draco was worse," Hermione answered, with a grin. "He was every bit as arrogant, yet not half so intelligent, so he kept acting a buffoon, only he MEANT it! And he expected everyone to treat him as if he was as witty and clever as his father."
"Lucius was a cunning bastard, but that didn't save him in the end." Ginny shrugged.
"Well, I hope the next family will at least name their kids before trying to kill them." Hermione tried on some false cheer.
Urd pretended not to care. "I wasn't the one to choose the slots you'll be filling. If it was up to me I never would have made any one of you a Malfoy. But I think you'll find that none of the rest are quite so challenging as Luna's new future."
"Where are we going next? And will Luna be alright?" Hermione pled.
Urd shot her a golden smile, reassuring her, "Our baby Bridgette there will be just fine. There's nothing more stressful than a diaper change on the books for her for months. So you can rest easy on her account, and you can keep in touch with that mind-link you have."
"I've been meaning to ask about that," Hermione followed the goddess out of the secret underground chamber and up the steps, out the wall, and into the closest painting, Ginny tagging along behind listening to every word they said. "How is it that when we got our telepathic ability it only worked between us and Harry? We'd been trying to pass messages along to others, but never could get any results."
"Strictly speaking, it's not full-fledged telepathy, only a mind-link," Urd spoke as she led them out of a monitor inside of a muggle hospital. "We approve of those for ghosts, on the whole, but very few use them. As you well know, ghosts are the spirits of the departed who refuse to leave the mortal realm for some reason or other. Most don't even know their own reasons for staying, except a vague feeling of connection or a fear of going on causing them to linger. In essence, what you did was to bond yourselves to young Harry, making him your reason for staying. The moment he died, you'd all pass on together, which we find cleans up the ghost population nicely, so any spirit willing to can do so. To encourage more to do it... well, that's why you get advantages like sharing a mental link with him, and knowing where he is and how he's doing at all times. It's mostly sugar coating on a cake. Ghosts can't progress until they pass on, and a few centuries of boredom is enough to encourage most to cross the veil, but one mortal's lifetime is a much shorter period than a few centuries and better for everyone involved; so those we can get to use the shortcut are welcome to it."
Urd paused at the door to a hospital room, a surgery. "The whole mortal experience was set up to be to your benefit, you know. The whole thing still is, except where bugs or demons get involved, and even those have set limits where they don't often cause too much trouble. It may not feel like it at times, but Heaven cares deeply about each and every one of you guys down here."
More humbled by that statement than they'd expected to be, the two ghosts gave her each a soft nod and followed her into the room. Time was stopped, as before, but the scene was one slightly unexpected.
"A C-section," Urd explained, having crossed her arms and leaning against a wall. "The baby has water on the brain, which makes a normal delivery impossible as the kid's head has grown too big for the birth canal. What they don't know is that the child also has a complex heart condition, which means that between them there is nothing muggle science can do to save the child's life - either one, yes; together, no. She'll live a couple of weeks at most unless someone like us intervenes."
"So... what is our plan, then?" Hermione ventured enough to ask.
The goddess shone forth a brilliant smile, leaning forward suddenly to favor both ghosts with her gladness. "Why, intervene, of course! The magical community has potions and charms that can fix this kid up with ease, so our plan is to switch her out to be the twin of someone about to be born there right about now. St Mungo's Healers will save her life with nary a concern, and one of you will take over her position here." Urd winked and raised a finger. "No health problems, just like you wished. The doctors won't know why the girl will come out with a clean bill of health when the ultrasounds said otherwise, but I'm told there are alot of those unresolved mysteries in medicine," Urd stopped to consider, touching her chi in thought, "probably because we do alot of intervening in cases, I'd guess."
"There are still alot of deaths in the world, and suffering," Hermione hedged.
The golden tanned goddess shrugged, then roundly pierced the ghostly girl with her eye. "Didn't I just say that the mortal experience was set up for your benefit? Death is part of that experience, isn't it? Believe me, you don't know how much of a blessing it is that life has an end. Immortality would be the worst curse you could give anyone, and I mean worst. As you already know, your spirits, memories, and everything that makes up you still exists after you die and lose your body. What you don't know is what awaits you once you cross over. Having been there, I believe I can say that it's pretty pleasant. There's a reason we call it Heaven, you know."
Gulping, both ghosts nodded.
"And the suffering is mostly your own fault, caused by people against other people. You don't know how sad that makes us sometimes." The goddess shook her head over her folded arms. "When it gets too bad we generally have to wipe out the offending culture to prevent it from contaminating everything else. Voldemort had gotten things to that point before you came back into the past. Father had already called for a meteorite to strike that portion of the Earth, turning Europe into an island chain and putting a stop to his madness." Pausing, the goddess considered. "Hopefully, you and Harry will succeed in destroying him early and we won't have to do that again."
Opening her closed eyes, the Norn regarded them again. "But if you read of a once great civilization that's fallen, that's generally the reason why. We don't do meteorites all that often, but plagues or barbarian hordes generally do just as well, and don't mess up the land so people can't live there afterward."
Thinking about the Middle East, she paused, again considering. "Well, not too often at any rate. I don't know why it was so fashionable for so long to cap wells and poison streams, sowing salt into your enemy's fields to turn everything into a desert, but it was."
"Getting back to the topic at hand," the bookworm reminded, "could you tell us more about this situation? What is life going to be like for whichever one of us take over this girl's position?"
"Parents are muggles, obviously," Urd accepted the change of topic. "If either had been magical our help wouldn't have been required. Their file says they are physicists, and this birth messes up the mother's womb enough she won't be able to have any more kids. The couple are loving, if a touch distant. Being workaholics is pretty much their only major flaw. They have a house in Scotland, and one in London. They would have another couple on the European Continent if not for security at their workplace insisting they stay on British soil as much as possible. When they travel, it's always with guards."
"Why does that remind me so much of Snape?" Ginny asked.
Hermione looked at her curiously, and the redhead elaborated, "During the Second Rise, our old Potions Professor wasn't allowed out very much. When he objected in the most obsequious way imaginable, Voldemort had his legs cut off. Then he told him that he lived to create potions, and that if he failed in any way to please his Lord in that service he would disembowel him and treat his guts with toxic ungeants so he'd discover a whole new world of pain before he died."
Hermione could only snort. "I wouldn't trust a man like him either. I swear that greasy bully was playing both sides off against the other. He was a Death Eater, 'turned Light' by reports I've heard, however he must have been an enemy agent all along to have killed Dumbledore at the start of the Second Rise, like he did."
Urd closed her eyes, folded her arms again, and leaned back against a wall to shut out the world as she explained. "To become a Death Eater you have to commit an act of murder, of a muggle or other enemy, using an illegal curse, before witnesses in the forms of other Death Eaters, or Voldemort himself if you're important enough. A Dark Mark is nearly impossible to remove because they use the necromantic energies of that death to fuel the spell implanting it on the willing subject receiving it. It's impossible to get one any other way, not by Imperius curse or possession or any other method. The one getting it has to want it, and want it enough to murder in cold blood for it. You can't be fooled or confused or controlled and get one. You aren't going to wake up after getting drunk and find you have one, unless you are that type of person who kills people and joins secret dark cults in their sleep anyway. That mark is reserved for Voldemort's willing followers alone, because it can't be given to anybody else, and it gives him an extraordinary measure of control over those who accept it. An ancient magical contract is built into a mark's basic design, and those who receive one essentially become Tom Riddle Jr's slaves."
Urd opened her eyes briefly to give the girls a serious stare. "Naturally, he doesn't tell them that part. He never has, nor does he intend to. But his ability to find them if they try to escape from him, and their inability to turn their magic against him, are all aspects of that ancient slavery contract."
Their guide leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes again, and resumed speaking. "That a person has a mark tells you they are already a murderer, and though they don't know it, they have sold themselves away to become the property of the even worse murderer who leads them. Since they can't use magic against him, or any of his marked agents that he sends after them, they are essentially helpless if he decides to kill them. So very few ever choose to disobey his orders, and because the Mark lets him find them no matter where they go or try to hide, those who do disobey don't live very long. He doesn't let his property escape his power."
The goddess took a deep breath, only to let it out in a sigh without once opening her lovely eyes, trying hard to ignore the subject matter of what she was talking about. "Snape never once disobeyed Voldemort. He approached Dumbledore to 'spy for the Light' only because Voldemort had ORDERED him to do exactly that! When the Headmaster took in his former student, accepting him and his sob story with open arms, Voldemort gained what he was after all along: his own loyal spy in the Order of the Phoenix.
"Dumbledore trusted 'his' new man and Voldemort didn't. Albus shared with his new agent special secrets to prove his trust in him, and Tom restricted what knowledge Snape had access to, knowing full well that anything shared with the spy had a chance to be told to the other side. Because of this one-way flow of information, Voldemort neutralized the threat of the Order to him, because he always knew their major plans ahead of time. Since he could read minds, it didn't matter if Snape was told everything or not. Dumbledore encouraged his people to socialize and make friends with each other, but didn't teach them how to defend their minds from Snape's probes, so Voldemort's spy was able to learn just about everything the Order did or knew. It was at that point that the resistance of the magical world began to fail for the final time."
Once again Urd opened her eyes and met those of her audience. "Harry was our answer to that. Something like that meteor, but less drastic. It was a miracle that allowed him to survive that curse by reflecting it back on his attacker, and we gave it to the magical world so they would have a chance to win the war. Sadly, they chose not to and wasted the time we gave them trying to forget it had ever happened instead of finishing off the ones who'd brought it on them, while they could. People make those kind of choices sometimes."
"Harry, are you hearing this?" A stunned Hermione whispered.
"Yes, Hermione, I am," his voice sounded over their link. "So my mom didn't have to die to protect me against that curse! Dumbledore was wrong about that after all!"
"Dumbledore was wrong about many things." Urd said cryptically. "Have none of you ever wondered why Snape ate in the Great Hall? That man despised his students. He hated them all, only concealing that for a precious few he felt he could turn into useful tools by showing a little favoritism." The goddess flicked back her hair in anger. "The school rules didn't require Professors to eat with the students. That woman who failed to teach anything useful about Divination wasn't seen outside of her tower more than once a year on average. So why did the one man who hated everyone around him bother to socialize?"
Both ghosts blinked in confusion, puzzling over this, until Urd gave them the answer. "It was because he was a brewer of potions, and the cups and plates were set out at every meal long before the food or guests arrived. A thin film around a glass or on the handle of a fork never did get noticed, but had a powerful effect on the behavior of whoever used them - and certain place settings were always used by certain people. Students milled around too much to dose with any accuracy, but a certain Headmaster TRUSTED his 'converted' Death Eater more than those who had been serving him years longer, more than all the rest combined, really. Who do you think he was listening to when he came up with the plan to leave Harry with the Dursleys? Who was in the Headmaster's office convincing him there was nothing he could do to stop the abuses that baby suffered? Why did a Headmaster never appear to notice or care what a certain Potions Professor was doing to his students? Despite the fact that it was so unethical that schools have been CLOSED DOWN over lesser offenses! Why? Because, to quote a certain teacher, he could "bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." Why do you think he bragged that he could bottle fame or brew glory when he only had a lousy teaching job and a crummy house in a ruined neighborhood, while the real Potions Masters lived on their own in much better circumstances?"
Once again they felt her eyes on them. "He was the worst Professor that school ever had. I know. I checked. He never even should have gotten a Potion Mastery, but was able to cheat on the test. But despite that he got away with anything he chose to do. Now given how he so openly flaunts his ability to defy every professional standard, do any of you think that he could have protected his rotten behavior an HONEST way? Or do you concede that the only way he could get away with this would be to cheat, and do something sneaky and underhanded?"
"If you add hurtful, sneaky and underhanded describes everything he ever did." Ginny quipped.
"Back to the topic at hand, could you tell us how this couple would raise their daughter?" Hermione interjected, hope springing in her breast.
The Norn averted her eyes, almost embarrassed. "Mostly... they don't," she finished in a quiet voice. "Oh, they'll do all of the basics, feed and clothe her just fine. But their major flaw IS a flaw, they focus on their work to the exclusion of all else. Neither one of the couple would notice or care about going to work for months wearing the same clothes, so they have a maid service to take care of the cleaning and the washing, and they'll hire new ones to look after the baby. Maybe they'll notice her as she grows up, but more than likely they won't. Sometime after they retire they'll open their eyes to discover they are grandparents or something. About that point they'll start to wake up to the fact that they've missed out on their only daughter's entire life, but don't expect that to happen for another forty years at least. Sixty is more likely."
"I'll take this life," Ginny volunteered.
"But why?" Hermione queried, openly puzzled.
Ginny shrugged happily. "Didn't Urd just tell us that the worst danger of living your life over again was boredom and feeling stagnated? Can you imagine anything any more different from my first childhood? Life at the Burrow was tight, with shared bedrooms and a huge family in your face all of the time. Mom fussed over us constantly, and I was swimming in brothers, not to mention we were Purebloods. I couldn't picture anything more different from my last upbringing than to be an only daughter of absent muggles, unless it was to have a couple of sisters, I guess."
"Also, this couple is rich, and you were poor," Urd softly muttered, examining a wall.
"Well, yes, there is that." Ginny blushed silver.
"Uhm, okay I guess. I do hope you'll be happy," Hermione smiled for her friend.
"If you want different, this would be it," Luna agreed, proving she was listening over the link. "However, don't overspice yourself."
"...variety is the spice of life..." Hermione muttered. "I think I understood that."
"I'd still like to give it a try," Ginny reaffirmed.
"Well, if that's okay with the rest of you," the goddess raised her hand once more and the ghostly Ginny was gone. Time resumed just as the operating room techs brought a new baby forth from the cut in her mother's tummy.
"Come along," Urd whispered. "They'll be awhile discovering that she hasn't got any health problems despite what the instruments said before they pulled her out, and you and I still have one more house to visit."
"I guess... whatever this turns out to be, I'm stuck with it." the ghostly girl muttered.
Her response was a brilliantly reassuring grin. "I'm sure you'll like it. In many ways I saved the best for last. Your parents aren't openly evil or obsessive compulsive worker bees, the situation is comfortable, and your circumstance close to ideal for a healthy growing up period. There are one or two minor little drawbacks, but nothing on the scale the other two have to deal with."
"So who are we going to go see?" The brainiac questioned, feeling reassured.
"The Greengrass family," Urd told her, just as they arrived through a portrait at that family's estate. "Ancient Purebloods, but ones who carefully horded their neutrality during Voldemort's First Rise and long into the Second. They have kind of the opposite problem the Malfoy's were concerned with."
"You don't mean we're going to visit another ritual room, are you?" the girl swallowed in disgust.
Urd regarded her seriously. "They have one such room on this estate, but it's been something on the order of a century since it was last used to test a child. No, there are two problems that generally terrify the ancient families. One is giving birth to an unsuitable baby like a squib, as you saw. The present Greengrasses aren't Dark enough to worry about that, they'd just give her up to a muggle adoption agency if she hadn't displayed any magic growing up, and claim she died in an accident rather than kill her. The other difficulty ancient families get is having no children to carry on the lineage at all. They are having that problem."
The Granger girl was puzzled, objecting, "But they do have a daughter! Daphne was in our class at Hogwarts! Unless... you mean a different branch of the Greengrass line is who we are visiting?"
"No," the goddess shook her head politely. "You are quite correct, and this is that same family. However, Daphne was not born to them as their daughter. You see, ancient and proud families don't admit to having embarrassing offspring problems. When they do have a difficulty, they take care of it as secretly as possible. However, with the current war going on and so many magical families getting destroyed, it's not hard to buy a baby from a Death Eater who didn't quite finish killing off an entire magical family like he was supposed to."
"That's terrible!!" Hermione cried out, horrified.
Her response was a careless shrug. "You'll find extremes are the rule when you get any group of people obsessed about being a master race. They do every kind of trick to avoid being caught as being ever-so-slightly less pure than anyone else, when the fact of the matter is that none of them are as 'pure' as they pretend to be, almost like a bunch of baboons trying to pretend that their bottoms aren't blue, covering their own while pointing out others'. It's hilarious when you aren't caught up in it personally."
"I think our being here is proof enough I'm going to be caught up in them," the girl pointed out glumly.
"True enough, but think of the good you'll be doing for others!" The goddess tried to cheer her. "Because you'll be taking over this position for the express purpose of saving a life, James Potter will get another glowing, ghostly warning in time to save the family of one of his friends. The girl who ought to have become Daphne will instead be allowed to grow up with her natural parents and siblings, their lives all having been spared."
That was mollifying somewhat. "But still, won't you need something like that to put me into this family's care? How will you insert me?"
Abruptly, she noted the goddess was no longer wearing her sexy, filmy attire, but a body-hugging cloak with a hood, out of which she peered, smiling at her charge. "No one in these exchanges likes to be recognized. Usually the family on the receiving end asks only two questions: health and gender. They'd prefer a boy to carry on the family name but will take whatever they can get. You being a girl will mean only two things, they'll pay a slightly lower price for you, and they'll stay in the market for a boy if one comes up for sale. One doesn't - at least not before this current war ends and the market for magical orphans dries up from rocketing prices over lack of a readily concealable supply. Any questions?"
"Yes, how will they pass me off as their daughter when I'll probably look nothing like them?"
"An inheritance ritual. There are a number of non-Dark ones for use in adoptions like this one. Any child they got would end up looking like their own. The Purebloods have had an interest in concealing acts like this one for a long time, and they've developed a whole library of spells to use, each one improved over the last. One major benefit for you is that you'll have all of your own magical gifts, plus those you might've inherited from these two if they were your actual parents." A platinum haired head paused in thought. "Though, the one they are likely to use on you will cause that any lineage detection spells will discover only your adopted family, not your true bloodline. I suppose I could give you just about any heritage, and they'd never know."
Hermione grimaced. "For all of their talk about honor and glory, I'd take being a muggleborn over a pureblood any day."
The goddess had to agree. "Yes. When no flaw is acceptable, people don't stop having them, they just start concealing them. However, I've got to agree with you that the families of muggleborns are generally far more upstanding than purebloods who've been hiding their dirty laundry for centuries. On the surface they've got a perfect image, but once you poke though that cover the accumulated foulness underneath gets unbelievably bad. And that kind of hiding your dirty laundry inevitably soils you, it can canker the soul."
"So... how does a person get born with magic?" the girl asked a question that had been bothering her a long time.
The goddess grinned at her. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Yes."
"Promise not to tell?"
"Uh huh," the ghostly girl nodded, becoming quite intrigued.
Urd was suddenly casual. "Anyone can do it. Some are noticeably more talented than others. There are many who are gifted, while others have limitations, many have a great deal more difficulty learning than some, and most are never granted an opportunity to learn. But if you compared it to, say, languages: there are some who pick them up easily and readily, others who understand more from their background, and a few poor souls who have lots of trouble learning any. But granted enough opportunity and instruction, anyone could learn. Those who are gifted are liable to be much more fluent more easily, that's all. What the magical society around here does is throw away all of those who find they have the least trouble learning. Many of those they've called squibs would have been great witches or wizards, they just had trouble getting started."
The goddess stared at her stunned companion. "Einstein was flunked out of his math class, you know. His teacher said he had no talent or aptitude at all. Now which do you believe was correct: his teacher, or all of Einstein's scientific papers covered with ground-breaking equasions and theories spelled out in math?"
Shaking her hair out, she added, "But no, if you are a late bloomer in current magical culture, they assume you have no ability at all, and tell you so, so much and so often, that by the time your gift would normally have developed you are already so convinced you can't that you don't try. Being convinced you can't is most of what's required for it to be impossible. And, for those who are never exposed, those they call muggles, it is a bit like learning how to swim if you've never been exposed to water. There's no real opportunity to try. Most of the muggleborn children had close brushes with Obliviators or other magical events early on, like living close to a magical building or household, and just picked something up."
Hermione started laughing, and Urd lifted an eyebrow at her.
"It's just... bwahahaha!! I've been... snort... a pureblood my entire life and never knew it!" The ghostly maiden laughed.
"Well, of course! Everyone is." Urd smiled warmly at her. "There are no non-magical people, so everyone is a pureblooded witch or wizard. Most just don't know how to use magic, that's all."
"That's hilarious!" Hermione continued laughing.
"So, are you ready to join your new life? They're going to name you Daphne, just so you know."
"Yes, that's fine."
Smiling, Urd suddenly had a swaddled baby in her arms, and, pulling the hood close about her head, went in to meet the family. The infant still burbled its amusement from her arms.
End Part Four
