Heirs of the Founders
And now a word from the author:
Wow, no updates since July second; Animekitty2 has been a bad kitten.
That aside.
Here I am, once more apologizing for my long lapse since posting my last update. In my defence—not that I want any sympathy—I can honestly say it wasn't entirely my fault; real life decided to take a complicated turn on me and only now am I sorta getting back into a writing routine. Still, it's not that I wasn't writing but that I was writing in fits and starts since July; this and the next chapter—originally part of this one—are the fruits of that extended labor. Hopefully, I've kept it together but apologize in advance if I missed any continuity errors or allowed things to become disjointed.
Now a big shout out to my readers.
Thank you for sticking with me and I've welcomed the encouraging PMs and reviews from many readers who have been written during my unintentional hiatus. Let me also thank those who found Heirs in the last month or so and even reviewed what many might think was an abandoned story; it's not. Oh, and a quick note to guest reviewer 'Fast Frank': yes, I'm aware of the mistakes you pointed out, not to mention a host of others—mostly typo type and brain freezes (think 'bourgeois' for 'boorish' and you know what I mean and it's not my fault that Heisenberg doesn't follow the 'I' before 'E' rule)—that are glaringly obvious to me whenever I reread what I've posted. Someday, I hope to do a final edit of Heirs or find some poor Beta to suffer through it for me.
Until next time—which isn't really the next chapter—then and hopefully it will be sooner rather than later but I'm not making any promises.
Animekitty2
Obligatory blah blah blah:
I do not now, nor have I ever and only will if I'm the last person on Earth (at which point the whole concept of rights, royalties and responsibility, etc. . . becomes moot, to say the least) own Harry Potter or the characters therein, they belong to J. K. Rowling; I'm just playing with them.
Chapter Fourteen
September's daybreak seeped through heavy curtains and slowly brightened corners still embraced in deep shadows. Marching in time with the rising sun, the morning soldiered on to conquer a night lying oppressively upon a young witch just beginning to stir to a new dawn. Today's sunrise was more than just a new day for Danielle Granger-Black, whose eyes had begun to register nocturne's retreat, but the dawn of a new and very changed life. Blue eyes blinked against waking's call but soon surrendered to a rising awareness looking forward to a day: a day that wasn't an echo of the diurnal wasteland, which was Malfoy Manor. At last, sleep fell to full waking and Daniel found herself contemplating an unfamiliar ceiling with swirling white plaster ridges. As she reassembled her memories into a coherent mosaic of the previous evening's unexpected onslaught of change the room brightened further. Absently, she noticed, as light replaced shadow, that the ceiling above her was not white—like she first thought—but a pastel coral-blue with coral-pink highlighted swirls. Pretty, the blue-eyed witch absently thought.
"This is dad's house, that's right," she whispered as her memory bits fell into place, "I'll be living here from now on but not just with my mum and dad but with an older sister and her mum, who shares my dad with my mum who is in turn shared by and shares Hermione's mum with him. Aaurgh, this is confusing!"
Danielle sat and the sheet slipped from her shoulders, allowing a gentle breeze to caress her bare chest, which she didn't think to cover. It wasn't that she was particularly immodest but because neither Lucius nor Draco tended to enter her chambers and never in the morning; besides, her mum never said anything, one way or another, unless they were going out or expecting guest. Tossing the sheet from her body, she wondered when she'd stripped to her panties. I kinda remember being put to bed last night by my mums and dad but I was dressed. Suddenly her mind screamed, mums! What am I thinking? I mean Emma-mum is nice and all . . . Emma-mum! I need to talk to sis . . . I mean Hermione, something weird is happening here. Why can I accept this . . . so soon, maybe in a while—sure—but not now: not yet. Is magic playing 'silly buggers' with me? I've got to pee, came the 'call of the bladder' and all but erased her other concerns.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, which felt more like her bed than the one she had at Malfoy Manor, she stood and reveled in the soft plush carpet beneath her feet.
"I can't believe I feel so comfortable," she muttered as she crossed the bedroom; completely forgetting she was wearing only her 'Boy-who-lived' briefs, which her mum had 'tsked' when she bought them.
"I'm pretty sure, Danielle, that having the image of a boy on your panties is rather unladylike," she remembered her mum's tease at the time, before she had become very serious and said, "don't let Lucius see them." "I won't mum," she had answered, wondering why it was such a big deal.
With little more than a passing glance at the book-laden shelves, Danielle reached the closet and opened it. Stepping through the closet—smaller than she had had but still more than big enough—she padded to the bathroom door, opened it and squealed: naked, Hermione was kneeling—in a pose to fuel many a boys' round of 'bishop bashing'—and filling the bathtub.
"Jeezus, Danielle!" Hermione exclaimed and looked over her shoulder, "I almost had a heart attack, sis, what gives? By the way, nice panties, Dani, very appropriate considering the circumstances but don't flash Harry, he'd freak seeing them."
"I . . . had to p-pee; the door wasn't locked; you're n-nude," Danielle stammered; feeling the heat of her full body blush, which had to be obvious.
"I'm glad I didn't bunk Harry next to me," Hermione said, astoundingly nonchalant by Danielle's unannounced visit, her sister's cerise glow or her own nakedness, "I didn't think to lock the door. Can you imagine, sis: Harry stumbling in—half-asleep—and finding us like this; he'd freak. He'd be cute, I bet, don'cha think? Oh, yeah you have to pee; go ahead: I'm just filling the tub."
What should I do? Danielle thought until her body replied with an urgency instilled by her bladder's remonstrations that cared not for modesty. For Morgana's sake, just go, girl; sis doesn't care and you're both girls.
"Um . . . okay," was Danielle's less than coherent response to her sister's uninhibited openness that had her mind spinning thoughts, which were far too early: for either the day or her ten years of life.
Hermione turned back to the tub and Danielle was actually thankful for the sound of running water; it utterly conquered any lingering modesty. Unfortunately, her sister's uncovered nethers were now near eye level and very distracting. Morgana's boiling cauldron, what is happening to me? She thought as squirmy sensations clawed behind her breastbone.
"Wanna join me, sis," Hermione invited as Danielle completed her biological necessities and flushed as her sister added, "don't flush yet . . . bloody hell . . ."
"Hermione!" Danielle exclaimed; calling her sister on her choice of words, just as the older witch had the previous evening. Hermione turned towards her and, no matter how hard she tried, Danielle couldn't help but notice the soft downy fluff Hermione had begun to grow or her sister's budding chest.
With hands on her hips, Hermione said in playful reprimand, "Danielle, please don't flush when I'm filling the tub or having a shower; our neighborhood's water pressure kinda sucks because it's so old."
"I don't understand, sis," Danielle said, "Malfoy Manor has got to be older than your house and we don't got no problems."
"'Don't got no problems' sis?" Hermione said in pseudo outrage over Danielle's language abuse before continuing, "Anyways, you'll have to remember that you're in a non-magical house now. Unlike Hogwarts or, I guess, where you used to live; muggle homes get water from pumping stations, quite far away sometimes, and those pumps can't adapt immediately to changes in demand—like flushing a toilet. Oh well Dani, I guess we'll just have to wait now."
"I guess," Danielle replied and then panicked; had she, for all intents, just agreed to join her sister in the tub, naked?
"By the way," Hermione said in more tease than expectation, as she stood, "doesn't your big sis deserve a morning hug?"
With as many thoughts running randomly through Danielle's head as there were, Hermione's question, which she intended as a playful taunt invited an unwitting response from Danielle; the young witch stepped into a good-morning hug with her sister. Their unexpected and in ways accidental embrace came to an abrupt halt when they felt their bare chests firmly pressed together and their arms around each other. They leapt apart, as if thrown by an electric shock arching through their impulsive and intimate contact and suddenly each found an interest in anything but the other.
"So . . . um . . . Danielle, how'd ya sleep?" Hermione managed, having recovered first; awkward moments of this type not being nearly as awkward as they were to her sister.
"Pre . . . pretty good," she replied, "kinda surprising too; you know, first night, different bed and all. I'm usually toss'n an'a turn'n for a couple nights but I felt like I was sleeping in my own bed: all warm and cozy like, and safe."
"Safe?"
"Yeah, it's kinda weird," she replied, "I don't recall feeling unsafe in my old bed but—I don't know—the idea of sleeping there now unnerves me, you might say and leaves me all restless like."
"Well, I can't speak for you but sleeping under the same roof as your brother . . ."
". . . half-brother, sis." Danielle reminded.
"Okay, under the same roof as Draco—better?—would leave me all restless and anxious too," she said with a smile, "I'm glad the Gryffindor dorms are about as far from Slytherin's as they can be, considering we share the same castle. Thinking of that, sis; what house do you want to be in?"
"Slytherin," she stated matter-of-factly.
"You seem pretty certain of that, Dani . . . you want to be in Slytherin?"
"I do. Mum was in Slytherin but that isn't why," she said, "I intend to be in Slytherin and I will control it. I'm going to knock my dear brother from his undeserved golden pedestal and since Lucius isn't there to pull his arse from the fire—or his foot from his mouth—he'll have only Uncle Severus to protect him . . ."
". . . but isn't Professor Snape his godfather?"
"He's my godfather too," Danielle replied, "I think it was the only thing Lucius and mum ever decided jointly about me. Uncle Sev's actually pretty cool, when Lucius and his buddies aren't around; he's been teaching me potions for the last couple of summers now and said he'd start teaching me spells once I got a wand."
"That . . . that is cool," Hermione commented, "but it's kinda hard to imagine too; me'n'Harry haven't had what you'd call positive experiences with Professor Snape so far but then we are Gryffindors."
"Uncle Sev really doesn't like Gryffindors but he doesn't talk about it," said the blue-eyed witch.
"Probably because Harry's dad bullied him; I think they were in the same year," the hazel-eyed witch said.
"Lord Potter's . . ."
". . . Harry, Danielle; just Harry," Hermione reinforced, "Harry hates the whole 'Lord' thing; he'd much rather have his parents over his father's title any day. I . . . I mean Harry's pretty cool in his full on Lord persona—it even makes me . . . never-mind—but he's actually really sweet and caring: surprising really," she added. "I'm sure there are problems with him and his relatives; I bet mum and dad have noticed and I know the goblins have since they all but formally asked daddy and mummy to be his non-magical guardians."
Danielle giggled.
"What's so funny, Dani?"
"I saw how you are with Lor . . . I mean Harry; I'm pretty certain you'd not want him as your brother, Mione," she said with uncomfortable accuracy.
"Would you?" Hermione immediately challenged.
Her sister's unexpected question caught Danielle napping and generated some unfamiliar sensations in the younger witch but somehow she managed to answer, "I . . . I su . . . suppose not, sis . . ."
". . . oh, look the tub's full," Hermione's sudden observation sparing Danielle the need for unwelcome and uncomfortable self-reflection, for now.
Hermione stepped to the bathtub, bent over—affording Danielle another disconcerting glimpse of her sister's femininity—and turned off the faucet. Hermione dipped her big toe into the half-sunken bathtub.
"Ow, ow . . . hot, hot," she baulked but managed to submerge her foot and once she became used to it the whole process repeated itself with her other foot with much the same results and outbursts.
"Too hot, sis?" Danielle asked.
"A . . . a little, just got to get used to it," she replied then urged, "c'mon sis, lose the 'Potter' panties and join me; sure it's a little hot but it's not a proper bath if it ain't steam'n, right?"
"I . . . I guess," she replied, torn and confused. That does look inviting, she thought, but . . . I mean she's there too. We . . . we just met. Geez, she's your sister, a very Gryffindor corner of her mind that tended to remain silent intruded, we're both girls; we even hugged. Sure, it felt kinda funny but not a bad funny. Besides, who's gonna care in this house—heck mum and Emma-mum would likely encourage us. Geez, it's not like she's gonna do something unsisterly to me—is it? Sis is pretty; I mean . . . aaurgh, what's with these crazy feelings!
As Danielle's inner monologue vacillated between joining her sister—or beating a hasty retreat—Hermione slowly submerged into the surprisingly deep tub, leaving only her head above water; she sighed in bliss as the hot water welcomed her in an almost prenatal embrace. With head tilted back, Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed in a manner that Danielle would describe as cat-like; although few cats would be this relaxed in a bathtub full of water. That does look relaxing and pleasant; Danielle thought and nibbled on her bottom lip. Bloody hell, she thought without self-censor, Mione's a girl; she's my sister for Merlin's sake. We're family now and family we'll remain, so stop being so stupid; it's not like we'll do more than soak, yet . . . yet! What am I thinking—still, she's attractive and . . . Aaurgh! I can't believe I'm thinking like that; what is wrong with me. Oh whatever, she decided, shed her 'boy-who-lived' panties and stepped into the bath.
"Hot, hot . . . Ow, ow," Danielle whimpered as she pretty much repeated Hermione's reaction to the water and her sister's eyes flickered open. Silently, Hermione studied her sister and thought, Dani's pretty cute, she's gonna be pretty hot—like Nan . . . Narcissa-mum—I wonder . . . perhaps; wow, I've really began to think like mums but why so soon? Still, Dani would look good with Harry . . . am I thinking what I think I'm thinking? Better keep it to myself, Harry and Dani would freak: I'd better talk to mum or Narcissa-mum, soon.
"So Slytherin, eh, and you want trounce darling Draco and be the go to gal in Slytherin," Hermione said, suppressing a giggle, "I almost wish I was in Slytherin myself, so I could see that: Draco's been a pain, not to mention an ass; like his daddy. Never have I ever seen an adult so dense; how Narcissa-mum could smile like she does with that as a husband—oh, I'm sorry Danielle."
"Like father; like son I guess," She conceded, "you don't need to apologize because my so called 'Dad' is an arsehole and an idiot and whatever affection I once had for Draco is long gone, now. Still, I can't imagine you in Slytherin, sis, you're muggle-born and not a Slytherin candidate."
"I'm not so sure about that sis," Hermione said with a smile so sly it would make the average serpent envious, "I think Gry . . . I mean the Sorting Hat really wanted to make me a snake but that House has mostly forgotten what it means to be Slytherin. I'm pretty sure, too, that had Draco approached Harry differently he'd likely be in Slytherin too."
"A Potter—a half-blood no less—and a muggle-born in Slytherin?" Danielle giggled; having forgotten she was sharing a bath with her new sister as if it was an everyday event, "Lucius would have a coronary just thinking about it; Uncle Sev might've had some trouble with that idea too."
"Why?" asked Hermione, "Professor Snape is a half-blood of lesser birth than Harry is; at least Harry had two magical parents, your 'Uncle Sev's' dad was a muggle . . ."
"What! Really!"
"Yeah, Harry knew all along, too," said the bushy-haired witch, "he even released Professor Snape from a Life Debt owed to House Potter."
"Released a Life Debt, wow; that's kinda cool," Danielle cooed in awe.
"He is," Hermione replied and Danielle heard more in her sister's tone than her words said, "I don't think my wizard liked inheriting a Life Debt from someone his dad bullied; if I heard Professor McGonagall right."
"Your wizard, sis?" Danielle asked, seizing on Hermione's use of the possessive; the hazel-eyed witch reddened and not because the water was hot. "Didn't you only meet him last Sunday?"
"Danielle," Hermione said in a very serious tenor, "I'm going to be candid with you; you are my sister after all. Ever since I met him on the Express, I've been drawn to Harry in ways I'd not expect for at least a few more years. If you could see some of my thoughts—fantasies would be more accurate—especially after meeting Rowena, you'd be shocked but it's not just Harry I'm thinking about—like that—and when Harry said that she-goblin Silkenrobe was rather attractive: well, she is and I was curious."
"Eww! Goblins are . . . are ugly," the younger witch commented, "I'm sure they think differently but you know . . ."
"Dani, I saw my first she-goblin yesterday; they don't look anything like you'd think," said the hazel-eyed witch, "they're about our size but endowed like adults and could be mistaken for rather short women but for their pointy teeth and slightly greenish complexion and when Harry said Silkenrobe was attractive—as she-goblins go—he was right. Anyway and I know it sounds really weird; since meeting Harry I feel like we're being pushed together and whatever is pushing is stripping my inhibitions—not that I had many; look at mum, Narcissa-mum and dad—and it's leaving me extremely confused but precociously curious. In ways, I feel five years older and drawn to things that would scare most sixteen year-old girls you'd likely meet. What's really odd, sis—and I'm pretty weird to begin with; I know that—is that I already want what mum and Narcissa-mum have but even more."
"I . . . I think I understand, Mione," Danielle confessed, "there is nothing I can think of that would have me hopping into a tub with a girl—yeah, yeah; I know you're my sister and all—that I just met but here I am and for all my earlier hesitation, I feel like we've done this for ages now. Bloody hell . . ."
". . . Dani!" Hermione teased her sister on her choice of language but that's all it was: a tease.
"I'm serious, sis, my behavior is completely out of character—or out of what I thought was my character," she said openly and nibbled her lower lip, "and it's not just that I'm sitting, naked, in a tub with my pretty older sister. . ." Danielle said and they both blushed. "See, it's things like that and the way I feel about our mums and dad; it's unexpected. I mean, I might feel like this in the future but it's far too soon, now; this should not feel like home yet unless something is molding my feelings. You know, when I woke today I thought magic was playing 'silly buggers' with me but I just sorta dismissed it as ramblings of a half-asleep brain: now, I'm not so sure."
Hermione looked pensive and then said, "Harry said, the other day, that magic sometimes behaves quasi-sentient and even Neville said something similar when he said 'magic heard' . . ."
"Who's Neville?"
"Neville is the scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom," Hermione replied, "he's the only student who knows about me being a Lady Matriarch—I guess we should tell Tracy, she is bearing both mine and Harry's heraldry after all."
"Your heraldry, sis?"
"The sword on the open book is mine," the bushy-haired witch replied, "mine and Narcissa-mum's—I guess yours too since it is Granger-Black heraldry—are almost the same but for the addition of two greyhounds on yours; I'm not sure why greyhounds though."
"The greyhounds come from the Black's heraldry, Mione" Danielle told her, "still, two new noble houses; one after the other is really odd too and unprecedentedly fast—from petition to elevation, the Malfoys took thirteen years."
"I'm sure part of it relates to Harry's inexperience but even he said to Professor Flitwick that he thought a lot of 'ancient magics' were coming into play around him—I think magic is playing 'silly buggers' with Harry as much as it is for us, Dani."
"Maybe, it's still strange though—look at us, sis, we've just met and we're soaking in a tub together: I don't know why, but I feel something big is coming and I feel I'm going to be more than just observing history unfold; it scares me."
"There is something big coming but I'm not sure how much I can say," said the hazel-eyed witch, "but I know mas . . . Harry will be at the center of it. I'd talk to him Dani, he knows more about what's going on than just about anyone else, except maybe Overlord Ragnok and Vaultlords Goldenfang or Diamondwill. Harry's deep in The Nation's counsel and knows more than he speaks," Hermione was beginning to sound excited and said, "seeing Harry deal with things in his Lord Potter mode is . . . is—I don't know—I guess arousing is the only way to describe it, sis.
"I'm surprised you're able to say something like that, so openly, Mione," Danielle commented.
"I've learned to be open with myself from the best, Dani," she said matter-of-factly, "why torture myself with doubt and concern for another's opinion, unless I'm directly involved with them and them with me."
"I suppose," the blonde witch conceded, "but it's still weird hearing it—for Merlin's sake you're only eleven . . ."
". . . almost twelve, my birthday's on the nineteenth . . ."
". . . Really?" Danielle grinned and said, "I'm on the twenty-second."
Hermione looked surprised, her younger sister was less younger than she had thought; she said, "I'm only a year older than you; how old is Draco?"
"Draco will be twelve in January, the fifth . . ."
"but . . . but that's barely nine months."
"Yeah, I'm a preemie," replied the blonde witch. "Mum always tells me I'm precocious and impatient; I just had to come early but being an Equinox baby is kinda cool: they say that Solstice and Equinox babies are special."
"Who says that?" Hermione asked.
"Old witches, I suppose," Danielle replied. "Old witches' tales say babies born around the Equinox are fulcrums for dark and light."
"Does that mean—according to lore, anyways—that Solstice babies weigh more to the dark or light, depending on which they are born?" Hermione questioned in syllogistic probability.
"So they say, sis," the blue-eyed witch acknowledged, "but being balanced doesn't explain an almost twelve year old admitting such mature things; you're weird sis."
Hermione playfully splashed Danielle but said, "I already said I was weird, I know that; I should adopt it as my catch phrase, like Harry's 'I'm older than my age' line."
"Older than his age, Mione?" Danielle said, "Come to think of it, mum said Harry was—what was it . . . ah yes—'unnaturally natural' in the manner he carries himself and when she said it she had this tone—I don't know—like she was hot for him or something; does that make sense?"
"I suppose, I'm mean, Professor Flitwick explained it before we went to Gringotts that witches and wizards are instinctually drawn to those with lotsa power—I never thought a teacher would be hot for me, now that was disconcerting let me tell you, Dani . . ."
". . . What!"
"Goblins—well half goblins in his case—don't mince words or beat around the bush; they're uncomfortably candid," said Hermione. "Still I'm not sure if Professor Flitwick's admission can hold a candle to Professor McGonagall's, which she tried to hide—it was actually quite obvious, to me anyway—attraction to Harry: boy, was she unsettled by that, I'm surprised I didn't start laughing. It isn't just her either, Dani, but Narcissa-mum and my mum too, I could tell; thank god, daddy's good about such things."
As each thought about that revelation they heard a knock from the door followed by Narcissa asking unnecessarily, "Are you in there honey?"
"Yes mum," Danielle and Hermione answered at almost the same time; each looked at the other and began to snicker.
"Can I come in?" Narcissa asked.
"Sure," said Hermione louder than Danielle's uncertain, ". . . um."
The door opened and the former Mrs. Malfoy stepped in, she looked to the tub, saw her daughters and said, "Good morning Danielle; good morning Hermione, I'm happy seeing you two together and opening up to each other. So how'd you sleep Dani, I know it takes you a bit to get used to a new bed."
"I . . . I slept really well mum; much better than I thought I would," Danielle replied, "I'm kinda surprised actually; I don't remember sleeping so well for a long time."
"I'm glad to hear that," Narcissa said with one of the warmest grins Danielle had ever seen before asking, "what about you Hermione?"
"Okay, I suppose but it took a while to get to sleep," Hermione answered with a smirk before adding, "You forgot the silencing charms mum; I'm surprised you aren't stiff and achy after what I heard last night."
Narcissa's cheeks turned a little pink and Danielle's eyes kept switching back and forth between her mother and Hermione; the younger witch looked endearingly confused.
"Well at least I thought of the healing charms afterwards," Narcissa replied smugly, "I'm surprised I was thinking clear enough to remember them, let alone cast them."
"That intense?" Hermione teased, catching her Slytherin mother off guard
"I'd say, Emma and I were sublimely cruel to one another last night; master . . ." Narcissa balked, Danielle had never experienced this side of her mother, "We . . . um . . . have lots to talk about Dani."
"It's okay mum, we can talk another time," Danielle soothed, "sis kinda explained it some yesterday but I don't really understand it; I'm not sure Harry did either but he seems a little familiar with it."
"I'm sorry, Hermione, that must've been awkward," Narcissa said to her bushy-haired daughter.
"A little but it was important mum and telling sis to just go talk to you would've b'n wrong,"
"I'm glad to hear that Hermione," Narcissa responded sadly, "but it still should've been me to try and explain and Harry . . . I mean Lord Potter; what does he know?"
"It's Harry mum, please remember—he hates he whole 'Lord' thing," Hermione politely reminded, "and I can't say I blame him, either; anyways, we spoke of this when he told me he was scion to the Black family. Other than me—and maybe Professor Flitwick—only a hand-full know about his relationship to the Ancient House of Black."
"Well, I suppose Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall are understandable," said Lady Granger-Black.
"Um, I don't think they know yet, mum . . ." Hermione said.
"Then who knows?" Narcissa asked with considerable concern.
"It's . . . it's really hard to explain and I'm not sure if either Harry or I are ready to talk about it just yet," the hazel-eyed witch said but felt she had to give her second mum at least something of answer. "I . . . I don't like hiding things but Harry and I are still working through stuff; it has to do with the rings mum and dad are wearing, now."
"Do they know?" Narcissa asked firmly.
"No . . . no, not yet," Hermione replied apologetically, "me and Harry hadn't had a chance to talk of such things. Please Narcissa-mum, this is very important but we . . . we can't discuss it just yet."
"You'll tell us as soon as you can?"
"I promise mum."
"Be thankful I'm Slytherin alumni and understand secrets, as do Dan and Emma-mum," the elder witch said, "but that doesn't mean I like one of my daughters keeping things from her parents."
"I . . . I understand, Aunt Nan . . . Narcissa-mum."
"I can respect that but I'm really curious now, Hermione," Narcissa replied and said, "well, be that what it may, Emma-mum is planning on getting started on breakfast so you two should head down soon."
"Yes mum," Danielle and Hermione said together before Hermione added, "What about Harry?"
"Dad is getting him so you two best get out of the tub and dressed, promptly."
"Yes mum," they replied and their unity brought a smile to Narcissa's face.
—}{—
Dan had left their bedroom with his wives and, as Emma went to make breakfast; Narcissa headed to wake the girls: he went to retrieve their young guest. Reaching Harry's door he knocked.
"Hello, yes?" the boy replied from the other side, sounding very awake.
"It's Dan Granger, Lord . . . Harry," he replied, "and while Emma is fixing breakfast and Nan . . . Narcissa is getting the girls can we . . . talk; may I come in?"
"Of course Mr. Granger," Harry said.
Daniel opened the door and stepped in, accepting Harry's invitation; he found the young wizard sitting cross-legged on the bed as if meditating.
"Good morning Mr. Granger, how are you?" Harry asked his host.
"I'm fine thank you, Harry, did you sleep well?"
"Yes, I did Mr. Granger; I was far more comfortable than I thought I'd be," replied Harry, "May I help you? You look like you have something to say."
"Harry . . . ahh . . . this is harder than I thought," Dan began.
"Mr. Granger?"
"I'm not trying to sound like an overprotective father here . . . but," he said, "I guess I'm trying to learn more about you and how you feel about Hermione."
Harry looked nervous but still managed to answer, "My . . . my feelings for Hermione are complicated. We've only known each for a week but I feel like we're being pulled to each other and I really want to protect her and . . . well . . . you know how that turned out. I've not had much experience with friends; actually, Hermione is my first friend . . ."
". . . First?" said Mr. Granger incredulously, "But what about your old school?"
Harry shook his head and answered guardedly, "I . . . I didn't have any; Dudley—he's my cousin—would always starting picking on the kids who even tried talking nice to me: as you can imagine it didn't take long to be just—at best—ignored by the other kids at school."
"I see and your teachers?"
"I . . . I've come to expect nothing from my teachers or doctors or people like that who are supposed to help protect me; they've always been that deaf, dumb and blind . . ."
". . . kid, sure plays a mean pinball," Daniel Granger muttered absently, with more than a touch of venom.
"Sir?"
He scowled at the green-eyed boy for a second before replying, "Pinball Wizards but I guess that's kinda an obscure reference for someone your age and unimportant. What is important is why no one took any interest in your welfare, young man, that feels very odd to me and I don't understand it and Harry, please don't call me sir."
"I'm sorry s . . . Mr. Granger."
Dan smiled sadly and said, "We're going to have to look into how and why the system failed you, my lad, but may I ask another question?"
Harry nodded.
"Will you tell me about these relatives you've been living with?"
"The Dursleys, Mr. Granger?"
"Yes Harry."
"I don't want to sound rude—you've offered me uncalled for hospitality after all—but I'd rather not talk about my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin; if that's all right with you Mr. Granger."
"I can respect that and can understand it will be difficult but would you consider speaking with a friend of mine in the near future; if possible?"
"I'm not sure, Mr. Granger, who's your friend?"
"She's a Family Justice."
"Is this related to what Ragnok was asking yesterday?" Harry asked.
"It is, son."
"May I think about it, I don't want burden your family—which has become much more complicated thanks to me—I mean you've got a lot to work out between the five of you. I'd rather not distract you from such important matters; especially considering you have a new daughter who comes from one very alien environment for you; to one very alien environment for her."
"You are a very wise young man, Harry."
"Thank you Mr. Granger," replied the young wizard, "I . . . I suppose speaking with your friend is a good idea but it'll be hard to arrange since weekends are the only free time I can really absent myself from school and even that might create issues; especially if it's often."
"I'd say that's a fair concession, Harry," Danielle said before catching Harry off guard by saying, "I get the feeling you know a bit more about my unique family; I don't want to threaten you but my family is the most important thing I have. Most do not understand us but I will protect it with all I got: please keep an open mind son and talk to me openly. I can see Hermione is as tugged to you as you are to her but any relationship that develops between you will need guidance. I think you know Hermione is not a 'normal' girl and I don't think Danielle will be either. Go slow and talk to them and me, since both Narcissa and Emma have admitted they'd rather see them with you, especially Narcissa since she understands what's waiting for them on the magical side of things. Please take care of Hermione for me and Danielle, too, when she starts school."
"I'd never allow anyone to hurt my Mione, Mr. Granger," Harry replied; Dan noticed the possessive for his daughter, "let's hope yesterday's foolishness redirects some of the vitriol a certain blonde ponce, who is too much like his father, has displayed. Mrs. Granger-Black must really be disappointed in her son and former husband's inability to keep their mouths closed long enough to properly assess their situations before talking nonsense."
"I'll have to take you at your word regarding the son but the father is an idiot. It would've taken Emma very little effort to remove one Lord Malfoy from ever influencing anything with either his tongue or his gold ever again. Although I imagine that it would be rather impolite for House Granger's first act as a noble house to be the elimination of the head of another noble family: I think the goblins would've swept it under the rug, though."
"Mr. Granger what do you know about goblins?"
"I know they are loyal and working for the Crown surreptitiously and see you as the lance-point aimed at Wizarding England, they've been very up front about this too, though we're vowed to secrecy. I'm also told Hermione is currently under physical tutorage with The Nation at Hogwarts and that she'll be offered further tutorage during the summer. I imagine, Danielle will receive the same invitation and if Narcissa is acceptable to it then my youngest daughter will likely be invited sooner rather than later. Having Danielle fully prepared for Hogwarts and able to protect herself would make me feel much better."
"I'll speak to Griphook on your behalf Mr. Granger," Harry said, "there is no being 'too prepared' for the future and I feel what is coming will likely start at Hogwarts."
"Thank you Harry," Dan said. "By the way, Hermione was very cryptic with her letter when we got these rings; much to Griphook's surprise. Can you tell us what's so important that had Hermione almost beg us to put them on and not take them off?"
"Not yet Mr. Granger but it relates to Hermione's and our new allies, we're still at the beginning of something that will likely alter the power structure within Hogwarts and then beyond but it's too early to speculate," he cagily responded
"That serious?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied and received another scowl from Mr. Granger.
"I understand secrecy but is there anything you can tell me that will help us prepare?"
"Not yet and first we'll need to address issues regarding Mrs. Granger-Black and Danielle," said the green-eyed wizard.
"By the way, Harry, what do these rings do?"
"They protect your mind from Legilimency—a type of mind reading—and the Imperious or other curses designed to allow one wizard to control another," Harry replied.
"I'm glad we took Hermione at her word, she never explained it just asked us to wear them," Mr. Granger said, "you should've seen Griphook's face when he saw them; he called them Founder's Relics. I took the Eagle, Emma has the snake and we like how they adjusted to our finger sizes; Griphook then showed us how to use the built in charms that prevent removal or even being seen."
Suddenly they heard a tap at the window; the curtains were drawn so Harry and Mr. Granger crossed the room with curiosity. Drawing back the curtains, Daniel Granger and Harry came face to face with Hedwig who was perched on the window ledge. Dan opened the window and Hedwig winged her way into the room.
"I wasn't expecting you girl; what have you got there," Harry said as the owl flew to his arm and landed; from the air, he snatched the envelope, which dropped from Hedwig's talon.
"Good reaction time, Lord Potter," Dan said, surprised that the boy could move so fast.
"Try doing physical training with Goblins, Mr. Granger; they are unforgiving of failure," Harry's emeralds seemed to sparkle with amusement, "Mione is learning that now but it'll be worth it in the end."
"I know she said she was exercising but that's all," Mr. Granger said.
"Professor Flitwick has begun instructing her and me in goblin self-defense."
"I'm glad; she never wanted to learn how to fight but why now?"
"I'm going to blunt with you Mr. Granger; the atmosphere currently dominating wizarding England is not supportive of witches let alone witches of non-magical descent and—andI don't want to sound arrogant—I can't afford to have a weak witch by my side: it's too dangerous for her and too dangerous for me. I hope you understand."
"I do Harry; one of the things that drew me to Emma was her ability to stand up for herself. I've seen more than a few young lads who though a pretty dental assistant would be easy pickings for a 'Sport And Socials' candidate. They were wrong, horribly and hilariously wrong quite often: I saw my share of strapping young men sent to the infirmary by her; usually, once they were released, they were packing their barracks' box by the next day."
Harry smiled; after yesterday and Lord Malfoy's little 'accident' with Emma Granger he could create a pretty vivid imagine of what Daniel had told him.
"So Hedwig, what did you bring me," Harry said affectionately as he opened the envelope it contained two familiar other envelopes and sheet of parchment, "what's this."
Dear Lord Potter, Harry read. My brother overheard Professors Flitwick and McGonagall talking about yesterday's events. Peeves and I told mums and dads and they told us to send the other two rings. They are very happy for Lady Granger-Black—they never liked the Malfoys either—but as she is a Black of your Ancient House, they feel this alliance with the House Granger and the creation of House Granger-Black will help you wrest the Board of Governors from their undeserved space. Gryff also told us about Danielle Granger-Black—he sneaked a glimpse at next year's admission and saw the name change from Malfoy. Helena, Rowena, Sal and Ric have hinted that you should have her come by to meet them, soon. Fiona.
Harry handed the letter to Daniel Granger, not really thinking he wasn't Hermione, and turned his attention to the smaller envelopes and tapped them with his finger. Both grew into ring boxes; one ring had a badger cut from citrine, the other, a lion cut from ruby.
"So," Dan said after reading the letter, "who are these people, other students?"
"No, they are the new allies I was speaking of but it's too soon to be speaking of them," said Harry, silently chiding himself for handing the letter to Mr. Granger without thought, "we've only just met and have yet to really figure out an approach to things; let alone had a chance to make any plans. Once we've decided on our approach I'll be notifying Gringotts and you and your wives; we'll definitely need aid from those outside of Hogwarts in both making and instigating our plans."
"Harry?"
"Yes Mr. Granger?"
"As one who understands secrets, I'll not pursue things at this time but I feel I need to say—in all honesty—you should not need to bear such a burden at eleven," he said, "you should be free to climb a tree or catch toads or just do nothing at all, sometimes."
"Thank you Mr. Granger," Harry said somberly.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!"
Dan and Harry heard Emma's yell from below and both the man and young wizard moved with practiced haste and speed. Exiting the bedroom just behind Mr. Granger, they met Narcissa—followed closely by their daughters wearing only bathrobes and dripping wet—at the top of the stairs. Racing as a group, they descended the stairs and headed in the direction of Emma's shout. Harry followed as Daniel and Narcissa turned at the bottom, almost ran to the kitchen and were greeted by the very odd sight of a table laden with breakfast foods in vast quantities and varieties and Emma holding a large chef's knife: she was stocking a weird looking—hyperactive—creature with bat-wing ears and wearing a tea towel.
"Dobby?" Narcissa said with surprise; the odd creature disappeared and reappeared with resounding and almost concurrent pops that left it hiding behind Narcissa and clutching her robe.
"Wha . . . what is that?" Emma asked, pointing the knife at the creature.
"He's not a 'that' mum," Hermione said, entering the kitchen on Harry' heels; Danielle followed, "he's a house-elf."
"A house-elf?" she said as she eyed the little creature looking at her; he was peering at her, his little head with too big eyes and ears being all that was exposed, from behind her wife. Emma put down the knife.
"I be Dobby the house-elf, Mrs. . ." Dobby began.
". . . Granger, Emma Granger," Narcissa said, filling in the blank. "The man is Daniel Granger, Dobby; they are my husband and wife: they won't hurt you but you did surprise Emma, she isn't familiar with house-elves."
"Dobby no uner'stan?"
"Dobby . . ." Danielle said softly.
"Missa Dani?"
"Remember what my sister asked?"
"I'm sorry, Mistress, Dob . . . I was surprised," the little creature said after a quick glance at Hermione; the hazel-eyed witch gave him an encouraging little smile. "I thought I should fix breakfast for everyone—like usual—I didn't mean to frighten or surprise Mistress Granger: Dobby was being presumptuous, he should have checked to see if she be wanting breakfast first."
"Dobby," said Hermione gently.
"Mistress Her . . . Hermione?" Dobby said; Hermione scowled and the house-elf bowed his head.
"It's Hermione, Dobby," she said firmly, "not mistress and not lady, just Hermione."
"Yes Mist . . . Miss Hermione," the nervous creature replied.
Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration but said with gentle disappointment, "I guess I can live with that for now but, Dobby, it not about mum wanting or not wanting breakfast but about being surprised; we didn't tell her or dad about house-elves and we should have. Still, I don't think Dani or I thought you'd make breakfast for everyone."
"But Dobby is a good elf and always made sure he had breakfast prepared for his masters."
"Yes, Dobby is a good elf but I was a bad mistress," Danielle said soothingly, "I didn't tell you not to make breakfast; just as I didn't tell Emma-mum and dad about you: I'm sorry Dobby."
"Mistress Dani shouldn't be apologizing to Dobby," said the house-elf as his ears folded back; hearing his mistress apologize always made him uncomfortable.
"Dobby, was it?" Daniel said jovially; he feared his new daughter and the house-elf would spend the morning apologizing to each other if he didn't intervene, "that's a fine looking breakfast you've made; I'd hate to see it get cold: right Harry?" he said with a wink at the young wizard.
"I'd say," Harry replied, surprised that he actually 'got' what Mr. Granger was doing, "a feast worthy of Ron Weasley."
"Who's Ron Weasley?" Dan, Emma and Danielle asked, Narcissa just wondered why the young lord would refer to the youngest son of a minor but well-known family.
"He's our year and house-mate," Hermione replied, "and I think Harry was being facetious at his expense although his eating habits do leave much to be desired: Ron's that is; Harry's are just fine."
With the tension broken, Harry and Danielle took seats at the table and eyed the feast before them, stomachs growling. Hermione, Danielle and Narcissa joined the others at the obviously expanded table but Emma remained suspicious.
"Mr. Dobby . . ." Emma began.
". . . just Dobby Mistress Emma-mum," interjected the house-elf.
"If it's 'just' Dobby then it's 'just' Emma, Dobby," Mrs. Granger said, "but I do have one question . . ."
". . . Mrs. Emma-mum?"
Emma rolled her eyes the same as her daughter but didn't pursue the matter further, she said, "Dobby, why are you wearing one of my best tea towels as a toga?"
"Well . . . Dobby didn't think a Malfoy family tea towel would be appropriate, Mrs. Emma-mum."
—}{—
After the initial discomfort and surprise; breakfast became an enjoyable, although almost Monty Pythonesque farce, as the Grangers, the Granger-Blacks, Harry and, to Dobby's and the Granger-Black witches' surprise—after Emma ordered the house-elf and his magic compelled him to obey—took places at the kitchen table. The banter about the table had stayed light and inclusive and while he didn't add to the conversations; Dobby felt like a little elf again sitting with his family before he had been bonded to his first mistress, Narcissa; the youngest daughter of the Black family: once removed from that Noble and Most Ancient House.
"Thank you, Dobby," Emma said. "That was a wonderful breakfast but now I need to clock some extra gym time to pay for it."
"Dob . . ." the elf began but found himself on the receiving end of a Hermione scowl and quickly rephrased himself, "I don't understand Mrs. Emma-mum."
"I'm just saying I ate more than I'm accustomed to and that, if I want to keep my figure, I'll need to exercise a little harder," she told him, "what I don't get—if this is common fare—is why Nan . . . Narcissa has kept her figure all these years?"
"Professor Flitwick explained it to me'n'Harry," Hermione answered, "He said our magical cores take a fair few calories to maintain."
"That's all well and good for you magical folk," Emma replied playfully, "but me'n'dad don't have magical cores to burn away our excesses."
"I's sorry Mrs. Granger," said the elf, his ears drooping, "I'll make things more to your liking in the future."
"On no Dobby," Emma said sensing the elf's distress, "it's not what but how much you made and it was all too yummy too; I just didn't control myself, I will in the future but—all the same—I don't think you need to prepare so much."
"I will remember, Mis . . . Mrs. Granger," Dobby replied with his head bowed.
"Thank you, Dobby," she said with a smile, "and since you made such a marvelous breakfast for us, let me clear the table and set the dishes for washing."
"No Mistress Emma-mum," Dobby said with a hint of panic, "Dobby is a good elf; good elves don' le' masters do house-elf jobs, Dobby must do, Mistress Emma-mum should not: Dobby no want shaming of other elves so Dobby will do."
"But Dobby . . ."
". . . Emma," Narcissa interrupted, "he's doing what house elves should do, don't take that from him . . ."
". . . but why?" Emma asked, "It's seems so—I don't know—demeaning that he wants to be so . . . ah . . . subservient; what's in it for Dobby, or any house-elf for that matter, to want to so eagerly please their employer?"
"Emma," said the adult witch, "a house-elf isn't an employee, they are bonded to persons or families for life unless traded or dismissed."
"Traded!" exclaimed Hermione's mum; Dan was glowering, "you . . . you make it sound like he . . . he's property; a . . . a slave!"
Narcissa and Danielle, confused by Emma's and Daniel's reaction both thought; a house-elf is a house-elf and a house-elf serves: it's what they do; it's what they are.
"Mum; dad," Hermione said firmly to draw her parents' attention, "it's not as one sided as it seems. Dobby and his kin must be bonded to a witch or wizard or they die because they can't connect to Ignoble Magics of their own accord and as magical creatures they need magic to remain alive: they've become symbiotes."
"Really?" the biologist in Daniel Granger spoke as his querying eyes studied the odd-looking creature named Dobby; the elf suddenly vanished and then reappeared, again with nearly concurrent pops, behind the former Lady Malfoy.
"Wh. . . why is Mistress Dani's Emma-mum's Daniel looking at Dobby like that?" the elf said—his voice timorous—as he sought protection in the pleats of Narcissi's bathrobe.
"Dobby," Narcissa said, "Dan will not hurt you; he's just very curious but it's obvious we have a lot to talk about, still."
"You think?" Emma said in a surprisingly sarcastic tone that she regretted immediately, "I'm sorry Nan . . . Narcissa . . ."
Narcissa smiled at her wife and said, "It's understandable Emma-love, you'd yet to fully digest that Hermione is a witch and suddenly our daughter is the Matriarch of a new and noble line; elevated and installed by two of the four noble and ancient families. If that wasn't enough: you and Dan then discover that your wife is a witch of noble birth who has born our husband a daughter who's now the Matriarchal-Scion of the Noble House Granger-Black, which is headed by your wife, as appointed by the same noble houses. Like I said, we have a lot to talk about and there is a lot that my husband and wife now need to learn; I'd be more than sarcastic if these things landed on me that way they landed on you."
"So now what, Cissy-dear," Dan asked.
"We begin a rather harried introduction to a Wizarding Society that only sees and supports the status quo and is more concerned with its past and traditions than its present or future," Narcissa replied before turning and addressing the youngsters at the table. "I suspect Lord Potter-Black is aware of most of what I'm about to say and Danielle has been exposed to it her whole life but Hermione might find it useful as it affects her sooner rather than later; do you wish to join us boring adults or spend time with your friend and sister, Hermione?"
"Harry and Neville—the Longbottom Scion—have already began teaching me about the Wizengamot," Hermione replied and received a proud smile from her Narcissa-mum before she added. "So far, I've learned there is a lot of formal nonsense, which is presided over by a bunch of relics—in both people and jurisprudence—resistant to long overdue change. If I wish to change this, I'm going to have to slither my way through the current system to fix it and will have to play the established games better than the players already there."
Narcissa erupted in laughter and, after wiping a tear of mirth from her eye, said. "I . . . I wish my son could hear this; a muggle-born witch sorted into Gryffindor is more Slytherin than he, his father and most who bear the green and silver these days are; they could learn well from you but'll never listen to—sorry Hermione—a 'mudblood' or any Gryffindor for that matter. Too much history; stemming all the way back to Slytherin and Gryffindor and their feud."
"Actually, Lady Granger-Black . . ." Harry began.
". . . Please Harry, it's Cissy or Narcissa or even—if you must—Aunt Cissy, please . . ."
". . . Actually, Aunt Cissy," Harry conceded with a nod as he resumed, "I'm trying to remain color blind, much to the displeasure of certain students; I'll not look away if I see someone who needs help, regardless of their tie or ascot color."
"Yeah, Harry surprised everyone by helping Tracy and Daphne, Cissy-mum; I'm glad he did it, too," Hermione said.
"Who's Tracy and Daphne?" asked Emma.
"Tracy and Daphne are Slytherin students in our year, mum," Hermione replied. "They were treated badly by some of their housemates because they dared to talk civilly to us."
With a calculating tone, Narcissa asked, "Their last names wouldn't happen to be Davis and Greengrass would it?"
Hermione nodded and said, "Yeah, Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass. At lunch on Friday, their house mates were being very unkind to them because Tracy was wearing Harry's heraldry . . ."
". . . Why would a Slytherin wear a Gryffindor's heraldry," Narcissa asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Um . . . Well," Harry, scratching the back of his head; began, "Draco was being pretty nasty because Tracy is a half-blood and daring to speak to us lowly Gryffindors of lessor blood no less."
The older witch scowled and said, "I'm sorry Lord Potter; Hermione: my son is a father worshipping fool who can't see beyond the circumstances of one's birth and an idiot for thinking that—especially in Harry's case—it's relevant."
"I am a half-blood, though . . ."
"Yes . . . but you are the Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient House, Harry," Narcissa contradicted with a scowl, "that alone trumps everything and everyone else; I thought my son would know that by now."
"But mum," Danielle added, "from what sis and Harry said about yesterday; Lucius assumed the same thing about Harry. If he can't see it, I can't imagine Draco being less stupid: are you really Draco's mother?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she concurred humbly.
"I blame it on Dan," Emma said with a smirk.
"What!" Mr. Granger exclaimed, "How is it my fault?"
"Well maybe not all your fault," replied Emma with a sly smile, "I might've contributed a bit . . ."
". . . How in Merlin's name could either of you be at fault?" Narcissa asked in confusion.
"What she said," Dan added as three puzzled children glanced from one adult to another.
"Maybe we knew you too hard when you were pregnant and addled the poor lad's developing brain," Emma replied with amused speculation.
"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed. Danielle and Harry just looked mystified; Narcissa and Dan, unable to meet anyone's eyes, found the kitchen floor rather fascinating.
"Who wants more coffee?" Emma chirped.
"I think I'll show Dani and Harry the rest of the house," Hermione volunteered, thinking it might be a good idea to rescue Harry and her sister from the—likely—oncoming storm of innuendo and grown-up talk she could sense on the horizon. Hope they don't get too playful, the bushy-haired witch thought, I'm sure sis and Harry aren't prepared to walk in on that.
"Good idea, honey," agreed Narcissa—having recovered from the day's first bout of playfulness—as Hermione rose from the table; Harry and Danielle stood as well. "I think we should retire to the conservatory; Dobby looks eager to clean up, too. Oh, by the way, when are you and Harry heading back to Hogwarts?"
"Likely this afternoon, Cissy-mum," Hermione replied.
"Could you maybe wait till after dinner?" the blonde witch asked.
"I suppose but it's up to Harry, really; it's his portkey."
"As long as we're back by early evening—I don't want to get in trouble or take advantage of my position—we should be okay, Mione; Mrs. Granger-Black," Harry answered.
"Thank you Harry; I'd like Hermione and Danielle to meet their aunt and uncle," she said.
"Aunt and Uncle?" the young witches said in concert.
"It's complicated my dears;" replied Narcissa, "politics have kept us apart since before I met Emma and Dan."
"Black and Malfoy politics I suppose, right mum?" Danielle said.
Narcissa nodded and said, "Unfortunately and even more unfortunate for you Dani."
"How so mum?"
"Until now you've remained mostly anonymous since you were just Danielle, the young daughter of House Malfoy," she replied uncomfortably. "You were—not putting too fine a point on it—chattel to further Lucius' ambitions but now you're Danielle the Scion Granger-Black who has the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Potter and Black as patrons; you've suddenly become—shall we say—a rather major prize."
"That's awful, Narcissa-mum," Hermione exclaimed indignantly, "Dani is a person not a thing; is that all wizarding society thinks she is?"
"But Hermione," Narcissa answered somberly, "you've become . . . well . . . um . . . ah . . . let's say, rather awkwardly that is; the grand prize: second only to young Susan, Matriarchal-Scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones. You three—Dani, Susan Bones and yes you too, Hermione—are going to garner a lot of attention from the second or later sons of many major houses: betrothal requests for three such debutants will be fast and furious.
"Whaaat!" exclaimed the hazel-eyed witch.
"What do you mean by that, Narcissa?" Daniel demanded crossly, "these are our daughters you're talking about; not . . . not . . ."
". . . Mr. Granger," Harry interrupted, "while I will not validate or defend wizarding traditions; they can't be ignored either. For now, we must operate within the societal framework as it stands, until we can change it and its misogynist and counter-intuitive ways. As you must well know, it's well-nigh impossible to affect change from the outside without a bloody revolution and that—especially with regards to the magical community—is not something we can afford: there are far too few witches and wizards to ensure our survival if it comes to that. We, as members of UK's magical community are on a very short leash which is held by a displeased and unamused Crown and Her Majesty's eyes are no longer looking away."
"I . . . I get it Harry; Griphook was very forthcoming with us when it came to the current state of Magical England but that doesn't mean I have to like how it views my daughters," he stated.
"I understand Mr. Granger and for now I'm trying to deflect attention from Hermione—Danielle too, I suppose—onto myself but eventually they'll be discovered; let's do it on our terms by choosing the time and place."
"I know, I know," Daniel said in resignation, "timing is everything in politics; I just don't like it, that's all. Now, off with the three of you; me and your mums have a lot to talk about."
"Let's go Harry; Dani," Hermione invited as she rose from the table, "Let's leave mums and dad to talk; please excuse us."
"That's fine honey," Emma replied, "We'll call you when we're having lunch and, Hermione; Dani, lose the bathrobes, I'd rather you not show a boy around dressed like that."
"But mum, me an' sis would be naked then," Hermione twittered playfully; red-faced, Danielle and Harry followed the nonchalant and unabashed bushy-haired witch to their feet.
Emma responded as puckishly, "You know what I mean, you naughty girl . . ."
". . . she better not be . . ." Dan provocatively interjected.
". . . What? . . . Naughty?" Narcissa joined the fun. "She's our daughter; it's in her blood."
"Nan . . . Narcissa-mum!" the hazel-eyed witch feigned umbrage; it did nothing to ease Harry and Danielle's innuendo induced dismay.
The house-elf, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, said, "Dobby is confused, Mistress Hermione is being naughty?"
"Dobby," the adult witch soothed, "we're just being playful; don't take us so seriously."
"Dobby," Danielle began softly, "it's gonna be awhile for even me to get used to mum being so relaxed and open: I envy you sis . . ."
". . . Envy?" Hermione, uncharacteristically befuddled, said.
"Yeah," said the younger witch and suddenly fled the room: there were tears in her eyes.
"Dani?" said the bushy-haired witch, her reaching fingers barely grazing her sister's retreating shoulder; she followed.
"Danielle . . ." Narcissa said with concern and stood, intending to follow.
Emma, lovingly placing her hand on top of her wife's, said, "No Cissy, let Hermione try first; sisters need to help each other . . ."
". . . but I'm her mother . . ."
". . . I know, love, but Dani's envy is focused on Hermione, right now; she's seeing what her sister has had, all along and feels—I don't know—cheated I guess."
"B . . . but it's not . . ."
". . . her fault?" Dan finished for her, "She knows that, pet, but that doesn't mean it isn't painful or confusing; in less than a day, her whole world was turned upside-down: she now has a father, a sister, a second mum and—I suppose—a Harry; blimey, if I were ten, I'd be bloody well confused by all that."
"Um . . ." said a boy's voice from near the kitchen door.
"Oh I'm sorry, Harry dear," Emma said, "we're being rude aren't we; forgetting you are here and all."
Harry shook his head and said, "It's okay, Mrs. Granger, I kinda really made your lives really complicated; I'm very sorry . . ."
"None of that nonsense, son," Dan replied. "The complicated part was family made; you've given us an opportunity to explore and fix that: thank you Harry."
Harry turned red and bowed his head; his right toe chipping at the floor. He said, "Y . . . you're welcome—I suppose—Mr. Granger. I . . . I think I'll just go and brush my teeth, now, and Dobby . . ."
"What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter, sir?"
Shaking his head and rolling his eyes—this time—the young wizard replied, "Breakfast was very good, thank you."
Emma giggled; the young wizard's discomfort and exasperation with the elf's over-the-top praise seemed to call to her playful side. He's really cute, all flustered and what not: too bad he's so young—what are you thinking woman! Her thoughts screamed as her mind took a decidedly adult turn regarding the green-eyed boy who had just exited the kitchen. He's . . . he's younger than Hermione. I . . . I think I understand what Nan . . . Cissy was saying yesterday.
—}{—
On Danielle's heels, Hermione followed her sister to the bedroom and quietly rapped on the closed door and said, "Danielle?"
Hermione heard her sister sniffle and reply, "Y . . . Yeah?"
"May I come in?" She asked softly.
"I . . . I guess," was the younger witch's hesitant response.
Pushing the door open, Hermione stepped into the bedroom and saw Danielle. Her sister, valiantly fighting a losing battle with her sobs, sat on the edge of the bed. The hazel-eyed witch, with concern-hastened steps, crossed the room and sat beside her sister and found herself facing an unfamiliar—from her experience—circumstance; comforting another girl's distress instead of being comforted, usually by her parents.
"Dani," she said with concern, "what's wrong; please tell me."
"I . . . I don't know if I sh-should really h-hate you or . . . or really l-like you, Hermione," Danielle wept, her tears were dry.
"Hate me?" whispered the bushy-haired witch, "w . . . why?"
"Because of m-m-mum."
"Huh?" the usually articulate Hermione replied.
"I . . . I see my mum the way you've always had her, Hermione, it hurts and . . . and it's not fair; she's m-my mummy, not yours: why?"
"But . . ."
"I . . . I only saw her this happy and relaxed when we went on trips without Lucius or when she got home from . . . from seeing you; I . . . I'm her daughter, didn't I . . . I deserve it more than you?"
"But Dani . . ."
"I kn-know, I know," Danielle said weakly, burying her face into her sister's shoulder; Hermione wrapped her arms around the young witch who continued in a now muffled voice, "it's . . . it's not your fault Hermione b-but it still hurts, a lot."
Stroking her sister's hair, Hermione whispered with empathy, "You were cheated, Dani; by me, mums, daddy and everyone—well not everyone—but . . . but things were . . . complicated. It's only because of Harry and his lucky—for us anyways—inexperience that we can now be a normal family . . ."
"N-Normal?" Danielle said with a stifled giggle, "With two mummies and a daddy . . ."
". . . Proper then?" the older girl corrected.
Danielle didn't even try to stop the contagious titter that burst the bubble of her swallowing-sorrow. Returning her now infected sister's embrace, Danielle and Hermione giggled together neither able to speak but enjoying their shared mirth in a manner that was a new experience to both.
"Okay," Hermione conceded through snickers, "perhaps 'normal' and 'proper' don't apply but you're still my sister: so what, if we share mums and daddy; convention is overrated if you ask me and I don't mind sharing, if I get a cute li'l sis in exchange."
"Does sharing include 'your' Harry, big sis?" Danielle teased.
"Um . . . Dani," said the hazel-eyed witch now sporting a smile that Danielle could only call roguishly risqué; not to mention, rather unnerving, "do you know what you're actually asking, sis; especially in this family?"
"Did I ask something odd?" replied the younger witch. "I only meant to tease you, Her . . . Mione."
Hearing Danielle shift to the familiar used by Harry made Hermione smile but beneath the grin, she felt a tinge of worry over what she needed to tell her sister.
Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Dani, you . . . you do understand that the only way to make mums and dad's relationship—our family—work requires that not only do mums and daddy love each other but also that mummy and Narcissa-mum love each other too?"
"Well yeah, I suppose, they're . . . um . . . well . . . like sisters I guess, aren't they? Oh my . . ." Danielle grew crimson as her words—as if blown by a gale—were swept away in a storm of epiphany.
"Yes, 'Oh my', li'l sis," said the bushy-haired witch. "We're speaking of a full on romantic slash intimate relationship between our mums, not just our mums with daddy. By the way, Dani—in this house—it's just as common to find our mums cuddling—and then some—with each other as it is to find either with daddy. You saw it yesterday, sis; sisters don't hold or kiss each other like that . . . ordinarily. When you asked me—in jest as it were—about sharing Harry, you were asking for that sort of relationship between us and Harry. I'm game, are you; is Harry?"
"Um . . . ah . . . well . . ." Danielle stammered and thought, she's making me feel funny again; before declaring, "I . . . I'm only ten!"
"Almost eleven," Hermione taunted playfully; garnished with a hint of naughty.
"Like that means a whole lot . . ."
The hazel-eyed witch smiled reassuringly and said, "Relax, li'l sis. I'm not ready for anything like that—yet—and I'm certain Harry isn't either; he's not exactly what I'd call a relationship savant or as precocious as me in such things but that's to be expected. He's been really damaged—emotionally at the very least, I'm sure—living with his relatives. I doubt he's even able to recognize love."
"Recognize love?"
Hermione nodded and pondered aloud, "Yeah, I think that's why the goblins are trying to get mum and dad—Narcissa-mum too, I suppose—to become his guardians; they've shown surprising empathy towards Harry's needs."
"Who, the goblins?" Danielle asked with surprise.
Hermione nodded.
"Empathy isn't a word I usually hear regarding goblins, Mione, ever," the blue-eyed girl said. "'Surly' is usually the mildest from the host of words used by Lucius—mum too, I suppose—to describe their dealings with Gringotts on a regular basis."
"Yeah, I know what you mean Dani," Hermione agreed, "Daddy was muttering 'Vogons' under his breath after our first encounter with The Nation and The People; can't say I blame him either but yesterday was way different. You're gonna be really surprised the next time you go to Gringotts; you'll see. Now, what say we go to my room and find us something to wear; it'll hav'ta be muggle though."
"Oh my, what will dear Draco or Lucius think," Danielle said sarcastically but with a big grin.