A/N: In the past couple of days, I really have considered just deleting this story. It's horrible, and the prose-information dump style of the later chapters is just pathetic writing. But, hey. There's other HP stories I'd like to write, and I'd rather relegate this one into the done-and-forgotten-pile. So. All edited. Completed. I hope you haven't suffered too much.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Proposals?

Late Tuesday morning, Aurora side-along apparated him to the Spinnet's Manchester home. Harry had sort of freaked out about today. He knew that both Sarah and Alicia had reassured him that their parents were fine with him, that it wouldn't be a bit deal. But it was! He was spending the day with them. And then Mrs. Spinnet was driving them to Sheffield to meet up with Katie, Angelina, the twins, and whatever Woods showed up. Harry knew that Oliver and Zach would be there, but wasn't sure about Sally or Diana. But he had to make it through the morning to get to that.

Aurora knocked. Alicia let them in; she tossed Harry an encouraging smile as she let them pass. The house wasn't fancy or anything and it certainly showed the mark of parents sending two kids to a premier school. Mrs. Spinnet – Helen – accosted them a few steps into the house, greeting Harry with enthusiasm that he didn't really expect. Or want. But whatever. Sarah thumped down a nearby set of stairs and hugged Harry, before grabbing his hand and giving him the quick tour of the three bedroom home. And it was a home. There were pictures of Alicia and Sarah and their parents on the walls. There were a few pictures of what looked like cousins. The whole environment just looked happy and content. Some of Sarah's artwork was hanging in one of the upstairs hallway. She just rolled her eyes when Harry jokingly stopped to stare at it. The two students rejoined Alicia and their guardians in the kitchen. Helen Spinnet was muggle, and while she knew a lot about Hogwarts from her husband's and children's point of view, she hadn't heard of it from a professor's point of view. And so they discussed Hogwarts.

After a few moments of listening to the adults talk, Alicia and Sarah took Harry for a walk around their neighborhood. He met a few of their muggle friends, but only really hit it off with Alicia's friend Kyle, who was a bigger fan of football than Dean. Kyle and Harry talked about football – Harry said he was a fan of West Ham, if only because he knew too much about that team. Alicia was an avid participant in the conversation, but Sarah pulled out a sketchbook and doodled. When the cold rain started, the three students returned to the Spinnet house. Aurora had left and Mr. Spinnet had returned for lunch. Which meant they had to have a serious conversation. The conversation Harry had been dreaded for years.

"So, Harry," said Richard Spinnet. Harry had learned over the main course of dinner that the magical parent was an auror, but when a light desert came out, the conversation shifted. "I've heard quite a lot of news that you market your own line of clothing."

Harry blushed bright red. "It sells."

Rich wasn't a jovial guy. He wasn't laughing a lot, nor did he seem particularly keen in truly getting to know who Harry Potter was. If anything, Harry would have said that Sarah's dad felt very, very threatened. "Why clothing?"

This was something Harry was actually comfortable talking about. "Opportunity, mostly. I inherited a clothing company, one recently renamed Shaped Clay Co., and the manager there, Julius Regan, was very approachable about pursuing marketing with my name. Most of the money made from the initial clothing lines was turned around and went into making the company larger and changing it around a bit, so we could also market plushies, pillows, linens, all that sort of fabric supplies. It's been really successful."

Rich nodded. The Spinnet girls were rather quiet, just drinking water and watching Harry squirm. "And is that the only company you're actively involved with?"

"Actively?" Harry frowned. "Julius does almost all of the work, just on some of my suggestions. I mean, I've talked some with managers of Comet, but I'm still a student and am rather content to let them do their work. Although as soon as SCC gets into marketing sportswear, I'm thinking that Comet will be one of their first customers. At the moment, the magical construction company I inherited has a few problems – I'm losing some money there. But I'm working on cleaning it up and actually making it a company worth employing. Personally, I'm thinking it might be better to go in a landscaping direction than true construction. Other than that, I'm sort of trying to get an inactive farm up and running again, but that's hard to do from school, especially because I don't have the right contacts yet. There's a few others companies" cough, understatement, cough "that I have controlling interest in, but I haven't paid much attention to them." He didn't mention the diamond mines. He wouldn't mention the diamond mines unless someone else's life was in danger.

Rich was still nodding. "Do you have investments in anything you don't own?" Somehow, he made it sound somewhat condescending.

"Sure," Harry said, "some even in rival companies to the ones that I completely own, and a fair bit in the muggle world."

"Harry's loaded," Sarah grumbled, under her breath. "We get that, Dad."

He didn't seem to hear her. "So tell me, Mr. Potter, why did you offer to ward my daughters?"

Harry took a deep breath. It seemed like a really, really, really long time ago that he'd offered to do that. But this impending conversation had scared him, worried him… he'd be glad to get it over with. "Mr. Spinnet, I do not profess to know your personal history, however, amongst the list of titles and inheritances I received at the beginning of the school year was the remnants of the pureblooded Spinnet family."

Rich scowled. Helen stared at the table, her knuckles turning white against her cup of tea.

"I didn't ask for that; I wanted to purely gift the title and the monies and the mansion to Alicia and Sarah, but the law doesn't allow for that. Still, I can assure you that any money in the Spinnet vault has been left untouched and, while I do not know the condition of the mansion, the Spinnet mansion near London will always be available for you, should you wish."

Rich was still scowling. "And have you been this generous with the cast-outs of the other families who gifted you inheritances?"

"Mr. Spinnet," Harry said, rather icily, "the other families are dead. I've looked into every family, every relative close enough to default on the inheritance and I can assure you that your family is a special case. I can also assure you that the only reason that I actively pursue the accumulation of wealth is so that I can continue to help people. I shall never want for anything in this life, and I'd like to see that my closest friends – my best friends – receive the same."

"It's true," Alicia said, "he's pretty much paid for David's brother to get cancer treatment. And he didn't even know the Summerbys."

Helen looked up. "I thought wizards were immune—"

"To most but not all," Richard said.

"And David's brother is a squib," Alicia said. "David practically swore serfdom to Harry after the kid started improving."

Harry fidgeted, uncomfortably.

"He paid nearly entirely for the Halloween dance."

"And the Yuletide ball." Alicia and Sarah started skipping over each other, trying to recall all the generous things Harry had done in the past few months.

"And that field trip for the muggle studies students, he's not even one of them!"

"And that grant to the library for more books on ancient languages."

"And that donation to the children's wing at St. Mungos."

"Paradise."

Helen coughed. "Girls, please be polite."

Harry was still bright red.

"He's seriously Prince Charming," Alicia said, knocking her elbow against Harry's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure every girl in first through fourth year has had some kind of crush on him. Even some of the others."

Harry put his head on the table and mumbled incoherently into the rough wood. Helen and Sarah were laughing, but Rich didn't join in. He said he needed to leave for work and then left without another word. Much to Harry's embarrassment, as soon as he was gone, Alicia and Sarah started to explain to his mother everything about him. Which was just awful.

"He's the most kindhearted, generous, popular heartbreaker in the whole school."

"He went to Yuletide with Nat Shacklebolt, from my year. She's black, you know, and she wore this glittery flowing white dress and he wore black. And they had Christmas colors and tinsel and glitter and it was great."

"Almost all of his friends are girls—"

"Not true," Harry grumbled.

"—which might pose some problems, but we'll keep you in line, eh Potter?"

He rolled his eyes at Alicia. "Yes. You and Angelina are sufficiently scary to keep me sane."

"Good."

Helen just looked on with amusement.

Said manner of teasing and banter continued all through the early afternoon and the car ride to Sheffield.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry slipped away from Alicia and Sarah as soon as they met up with Katie. He was meeting with the manager and a couple of the coaches and players a few hours before the match. Sheffield really wasn't having a great year, but they were playing the Cannons, so fans were optimistic. It was an annoying hour or so, as the adults treated him like just another kid who didn't know what was going on. All except the team's seeker, who could see that special secret knowledge that good seekers all shared, and the chaser trainer he'd chosen to teach the Gryffindor girls. The trainer – one Patrick Irons was a burly ex-Gryffindor who'd played his last year during the first year of the reign of Charlie Weasley. He'd washed out after a back injury, practically ruining English's chances in a World Cup some years ago.

And he was fun to talk too. As the rest of the team headed out to the field, Harry invited Irons to join him and his friends. Irons accepted and the two of them joined Harry's friends in the Sheffield stadium's top box. The twins hadn't arrived yet. Irons greeted all of the kids, and even Sarah managed to have a reasonable conversation with him when he joked about her not being a Quidditch fan. Still, she laughed it off, blaming her obsessed sister and her obsessed best friend. She and Harry then dived into a poking contest that Zach and Diana Wood eagerly participated in. Sally Wood hadn't decided to show. Oliver and Irons talked for a long while, mostly about tactics for teaching and other captain-y stuff before Oliver asked about professional try-outs.

Harry pulled away from the poking match to join that conversation. Oliver was, by every single ordinary definitely, very good. But he'd only reached captaincy because he was the only young player on a very old team… his first year of captaincy, he started out with the twins – who'd started in their second year – as the only returning players. Alicia and Angelina had been the reserves the year before, but never played a game. Katie and Harry had been completely new. As the conversation dove into that, Irons seemed impressed – not with Oliver's abilities as a keeper, but rather a coach. "Go professional," the man suggested, "sit on a couple of benches, if you must. Get injured. Coach. Or be a talent scout – you have a gift for finding the talent."

Oliver seemed overall a bit dazed from that conversation.

"Oh, and you're welcome to sit in on my lessons with your three chasers."

Oliver blinked. Then turned to Harry. "Harry…?"

The twins arrived, panting, just a few minutes before the game was scheduled to start. "Sorry, Harry—"

"Couldn't get away—"

"Didn't tell mum about the match, she'd have had kittens!"

"Bill had to help us get away from her!"

Harry took the twins quick commentary in stride. He knew they hadn't been planning on telling their mum, or Ron. He'd actually pulled Ginny aside and told her if she wanted to come, the twins would make it happen, but she turned him down. The twins had then gone and made her promise not to tell anyone. Or so they told Harry. Anyway, Harry had no plans to ever spend extended amounts of time in Ron's house again, so he didn't feel particularly bad about lying to Mrs. Weasley. The twins fell into chatting with Oliver, and Irons moved over to talk with the three chasers, who were at the edge of the nearly empty top box, watching a few trick flyers entertain the gathering crowd.

It was a large group, mostly because the Sheffield-Cannon game was one of the few to happen over Christmas vacation and quite a lot of families had shown up. Irons told the girls to pay close attention to the chasers and that he'd quiz them later. Angelina and Alicia looked, rather grimly, at Harry before accepting their new instructor's orders. Katie just accepted it. And so the game began.

It was great fun. Sarah and Diana stood in the very back, on the very top of the stadium. Diana had freaked out at first, but once Sarah held her hand for a few minutes, she loosened up and the two of them started cheering with the best of them – for Sheffield, 'cause that was Harry's team. The twins cheered for Sheffield to spite Ron. Zach and Oliver cheered for the Cannons. The girls were fixated on the chasers and not really paying any attention to either team. The Cannons pulled out on top, early, as Sheffield's keeper struggled with some of the more aggressive shots, but again and again and again, Sheffield's seeker feinted, blocked, or dove, keeping his opponent away from the snitch.

A few minutes into the game, Irons disappeared from the top box. He reappeared a few minutes later, with a secretive smirk on his face. It was a fun group to watch Quidditch with. At the end of the game, the Cannons came out on top with a 530-500 victory. Sheffield had gotten the snitch. Harry was disappointed, but not overly dismayed. After the match, the Woods left fairly quickly, as did the twins, saying that they needed to get back before their mum went overly mental.

Irons told the girls to go down to the Quidditch pitch. As the stadium emptied, Harry and Sarah moved to one of the bleachers a lot lower down and closer to the locker room exits. It took them several minutes of transit, but when they arrived, it was easy to see that Angelina, Alicia and Katie were racing around with another set of chasers. It wasn't Sheffield's starters, but Harry was sure it was the first reserves. It was getting dark.

"They're getting slaughtered," said Sarah, with all her phenomenal Quidditch knowledge.

"They're too small," Harry said. "They've always been small, but never this small."

"I'm pretty sure that one guy is twice as tall as Katie and three times as heavy."

"Irons is shouting at them, loudly."

"Are they really serious about going pro?" Sarah asked. "I mean, Alicia's talked about it some, but from what I've seen, this guy is committed."

"The girls are committed too," Harry pointed out. "They're the best Quidditch trio Hogwarts has seen in a long while."

Sarah blinked at him, rather owlishly. "You know James Botts is a second reserve for the English national team?" Most students only played on the English team, if they made it at all. It was a too much of a hassle otherwise. But that's not what the girls wanted, two years in the future.

Harry didn't know. "You know that?"

"Alicia's my sister," Sarah pointed out. "And as for my roommates…Ginny's Quidditch obsessed, and Clara and Clementine know everything and anything about someone potentially rich and famous. Of course I know."

"Huh. I did say trio, though. And Smith and Xen just can't keep up with him. Chaser's are only so good on their own."

"Botts is the only reason Hufflepuff is any good on that front," Sarah said, persistently. She crossed her arms. "You know how much longer they're going to be?"

"No clue."

Fortunately, while wizarding sporting guilds had managed to adapt lumos and turn it into a magical version of muggle sporting lights, Irons called off the practice when it became too dark to see. A defeated and rather demoralized group of girls joined Harry and Sarah by the team's private floo. Angelina, oddly enough, was hyped up on energy and invigorated to learn and improve. The longer she talked about how great it was to play real professionals, the closer Alicia got to decking her.

Harry got the two irate girls into the floo before that happened. The Spinnets had in an incoming floo, but not an outgoing one, so the Spinnets and Katie flooed home. Angelina forced Harry to go before him, having been alerted by Kenneth Towler, through owl, about the nature of Harry's pseudo-kidnapping. Harry just rolled his eyes at her and wished everyone would stop babying him.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"You're doing what again?" Aurora asked at lunch, Sal's expertly made sandwich paused halfway between her mouth and plate. Her expression was beyond comical.

Of course, that was entirely understandable, because Harry had sat down to lunch and said only "I'm going to propose tonight." Once his guardian and sister had stopped staring at him, Harry shrugged. "I'm sponsoring William, 'cause Emma's a nomah. So it's more like I'm asking permission for him to propose."

Aurora and Paradise were still staring at him.

"Seriously," Harry whined, halfway through his sandwich. "It's not that difficult to understand."

"It's nobility stuff, Har." Paradise said, with a shiver. "We aren't supposed to understand that."

"You should learn, missy," Aurora said.

"But Mum!" Paradise complained.

Harry kept eating, pretending he hadn't noticed. But he noticed. Aurora noticed. And Harry was pretty sure Paradise had no idea what she'd just said. Aurora was instantly focused more in on her sandwich, glaringly uncomfortable. "We'll work on manners later, young lady," Aurora said, a bit choked up. The space between Paradise's eyebrows creased, but she didn't say anything.

Harry scarfed down his sandwich, snapped his plate to the kitchen and headed for the attic. Aurora had not approved of him using magic in the house. She and Sal got in an argument over the whole thing, before Aurora relented and let him use elf-magic and elf-magic only. But as Sal had put up wards that specifically blocked anyone from sensing Harry's magic, he continued to practice his wandless casting in the attic, where Aurora wouldn't see.

And the elf magic had helped – in just a few days – way more than he thought it would have. Maybe it was just how frequently he'd been around elves… which didn't necessarily make sense, because he'd spent a lot of time with Katie… Although he was pretty confident he could get plants to talk to him now, tell him what they needed. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in the way that Neville and the other three sensed it.

Harry and Lils practiced by playing pop tag for the next hour; Sal supervising with a smirk. When they finished, Harry took a quick shower, grabbed the clothes that Mary had ordered him to wear, and flooed to the Grants' house. Officially, he'd be showing up as a guest of Poseidon, so he wouldn't see either Selene or Persephone; however, Poseidon had arranged for a two-way mirror to be set up so that the two girls could critique Harry's appearance and give last minute advice. The Grant twins didn't have any particular say in the matter until Harry told Persephone that she'd gain a favor from the future Lady MacDonald if the whole thing worked out.

The floo spat Harry out into a colossal, lavish greeting room. William welcomed him, and Harry and Poseidon shook hands. They stood there, on the fireplace stoop, before Poseidon broke the ice. "I cracked open the wine cellar, to celebrate, you know, but then Potter here is underage."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I really do need to see about getting emancipated."

"Good luck with that," Poseidon shrugged. "The mirror's this way. C'mon, the girls want to send you off properly."

William fidgeted. But then both the other boys had expected him to be scared out of his mind. He was holding up remarkably well for the possibly disastrous situation that he and Harry were walking into. After long, long hours of debate between the MacDonalds, the Grants, William and Harry, it had been decided that Poseidon would only send along a letter of recommendation and not accompany the committee. There wasn't a lot of animosity between the MacDonalds and Grants, but it was enough that they were slightly worried how Lord MacDonald would act to Poseidon actually coming along. Frankly, it was more politics and psychology than Harry could follow, but he did try.

Well, until the planning session that only William and Poseidon had showed up to. They had taken it upon themselves to give him what Able had referred to as "the Talk." Harry hadn't previously understood why Able seemed to think it was worthy of a capital t, but with the two seventh years trying to figure out how to be good mentor-guys, it was really awkward. Funny, but really awkward. He was only further mortified to learn that William had approached Aurora and asked her permission.

But that was completely tangential.

The Grant girls greeted both William and Harry, before Selene started lecturing William on his posture. The girls were curt, quiet, and demanding. And, from what Harry could tell, they only made William more nervous. Harry ushered William away from their last minute advice as soon as he could. Poseidon wished them good luck, but stayed by the mirror to deactivate it. Before William stepped into the fireplace, he and Harry shared a high five. He zoomed away. Harry followed in quick time.

McGonagall had been most helpful in letting them use her floo to practice. Harry could manage the trip without tumbling out on his head. They flew from one spacious, lavish hall to another. It was honestly difficult to tell them apart.

Lady Catherine MacDonald greeted them. She was an older woman, comfortable on the old side of middle age. There was nothing about her that was innately unfriendly, but both Harry and William knew that she would be of no support in the next few minutes. "Greetings, young Lord Potter. I thank you for arriving in a punctual manner."

Harry bowed to her. "Lady MacDonald, I do try and make my appointments. May I present Mr. William Caric?"

"Charmed," Lady MacDonald said, her tone saying just the opposite of her word. William bowed. "If you'll follow me," she turned and guided the two boys out of the huge entry room and into a still large, but more respectable office room. The Lord Mercury MacDonald sat behind an ornate desk, working at some form of papers with a huge eagle feather quill. Harry was pretty sure they'd set up this whole scene to be designed impressive. And, yeah, he'd be the first to admit that he was impressed. "M'lord, presenting Lord Potter and his companion, Mr. Caric."

MacDonald gestured for both boys to sit, and Lady MacDonald withdrew. Both boys did as they were instructed. After much battling with the others, Harry and William had determined that it would be best to try and put MacDonald in control as much as possible. Neither of them had the stature or the guts to confront him face to face. "I have received the customary missives, as you of course, know. I ask now, why will you continue in wasting my time with this farce of yours?" Both students stayed silent. "You act as if you are properly conducting the courtship process. Nothing about your actions is proper! You are conniving children who don't understand the man's game."

Harry grimaced inwardly. "Be that as it may, Lord MacDonald, we want to thank you for giving us this time."

"I know your intentions," MacDonald said. "Make your case."

For the next hour, Harry and William laid down the reasons why, in the future, William would be able to support Emma should the two be wed. They'd practiced this debate over and over, kept it rather chauvinistic (Emma's, Selene's, Persephone's and even Mary's insistence, although the latter insisted grudgingly), and executed each of their points perfectly in from of the venerable lord. Still, as William finished the closing sentence in his debate and sat back down, Lord Mercury MacDonald said, simply, "No."

Harry's heart sank. This would not mean good things for everyday life in Gryffindor.