January 1992
Harry came back on the Hogwarts Express with Hermione and Neville the day before term started. He chatted about how great it had been to be back home with electric lights to read by instead of candles (Hermione agreed wholeheartedly), and about his visit to Gringotts where he'd found out his family had a second vault. Neville never seen his family vault – his Gran did all the banking. And he was interested to see Harry's Heir ring, and gave him a short little bow (Pansy had taught Harry it was one you did to social superiors). Harry felt a bit embarrassed; he thought he might not wear the ring all the time if it was going to make people bow to him. Time to change the subject, he thought.
"And you wouldn't believe how rude Mr. Parkinson was to the goblins! They were snippy at us, and then he accused them of being too incompetent to keep track of their accounts. Then boy, you should've seen how the teller moved then to find my account manager. It really got results."
Hermione leapt into the conversation with her usual abruptness. "You see! That's what's wrong with wizarding society. I was perfectly civil to the goblins when I went with my parents to open an account in June, and they were oh so polite back to me. They said it was rare to meet such a special witch who would treat lowly goblins with such respect, and shake their hands." She leaned in closer to the two and whispered, "They said not to tell anyone, but you two can keep a secret, right?"
The boys nodded, intrigued.
"They told me I would count as a special 'Goblin Friend', to the whole clan, and they gave me a special rate on my account. Vault hire and management for only four galleons a year! And just 5 knuts per withdrawal to pay the cart operator." She beamed proudly.
"Is that good?" Neville asked.
"Oh yes!" she said. "It's usually much more."
Harry smirked. "I think they're ripping you off, Hermione! Seriously. You'd be better off not being a 'Goblin Friend'. Pansy says they're greedy and untrustworthy and that-"
"-I think I know better than to listen to a pure-blood's opinion on the matter of goblins," Hermione huffed. "Wizarding history is full of battles between wizards and goblins; they can hardly be expected to be unbiased on the matter. Goblins have been persecuted by them for centuries." She would hear no more on the matter, despite Harry's attempts to persuade her otherwise. The goblins were delightfully friendly and misunderstood, and that was that. Harry with a sigh promised not to tell Pansy or anyone else her wonderful secret about being a "Goblin Friend", which eased Hermione's mind a great deal.
"So Hermione," said Harry, "I was wondering how you were going keeping up to date with normal subjects while at Hogwarts? I was hoping maybe you'd like to study with me – I'm going to start working on them properly from now on."
"Normal subjects? What do you mean?"
"You know, Maths, English, Science. Ordinary subjects. You mean you aren't studying them at all?"
"No, why would I do that, even if I had the time?" she said, sounding confused. "Why would you bother with that when there's magic, Harry?"
Harry was thrown into silent confusion. She was so smart – it didn't make sense.
"Don't you see, Harry, that Charms makes a mockery of Newton's Laws of Motion, and Transfiguration undermines everything we know about the elements and nuclear fusion? Why it's the most exciting thing I've ever heard of! And if I want to succeed in the wizarding world, why I simply have to get the best marks possible – that's where all my effort has to go. I've been told it's very hard for Muggle-borns to achieve good positions in the Ministry after graduation unless they have the most exemplary grades. Not that either of you will have to worry about that," she finished, with a touch of bitterness.
"I'm not a pure-blood, Hermione."
"As good as."
"I dunno about that," he said, uncomfortably, changing the subject back. "Don't you want to keep your options open for studying too? In case you want to return to the ordinary world?"
"Why would I want to do that? There's nothing for me there. This is my world now – magic makes sense of all the strange things that used to happen to me. I always knew there was something different about me; this is where I belong, where I fit in at last," she smiled at them both, and they smiled back.
"It is good to have friends at last," Harry said, and they both agreed. All of them had been quite lonely until recently. Harry thought having friends might be the best thing about Hogwarts. He still didn't really understand Hermione's attitude about ignoring ordinary subjects, but he could empathise with wanting to fit in and succeed in life. The wizarding world was bigoted, and she might need every edge she could get.
Back at Hogwarts Ron told Harry that he showed his mum his notes on Harry's family tree - apparently they were 3rd cousins through a link between the Weasley and Black families.
"But my mum said we're not going to claim the relationship - not many people claim third cousins, you know. And not to tell Ginny." Harry said he wouldn't tell, but mentally resolved to try and claim kinship if he ever met the obsessed girl and she didn't take "no" for an answer. Millicent was the giggliest of his female friends – one of her was quite enough. At least she didn't obsess over his ridiculous claim to fame.
Oliver Wood was working the Quidditch team hard this term – Harry heard Ron's brothers complaining about it. He was glad he'd quit and thus wasn't out there in the rain and slushy sleet that had replaced the winter snow. He was quite tired enough trying to juggle learning magic, tutoring Neville in Potions twice a week, and now having to read through Dudley's textbooks and make notes for him.
Harry had figured out the postage system for sending letters packages to Dudley, and how much they'd cost, with a little help from Percy. He tipped him a couple of sickles for going to the Hogsmeade Post Office for him ("please I insist, you've been so helpful") and gathering information and forms.
Draco and Ron were still feuding. Ron hopped into the common room one afternoon with his legs stuck together, swearing up a storm with many references to Merlin's unmentionables. Draco had caught him with the Leg-Locker Curse. Everyone laughed, but Hermione sprang up and did the counter-curse.
"I ran into Malfoy, he said he'd been looking for someone to practise on, and it was all I was good for. I'll get him back for this, I swear," ranted Ron angrily. Harry just wanted to stay out of it. There was no point in going looking for trouble. Feuds were serious business for wizards. Besides, Pansy wouldn't like it.
Up in the library later that week, the Slytherins cooed over the photo of his mother and the thoughtfulness by the sender of Harry's gift. They were intrigued by the mystery sender, but were initially at a loss to guess who it might be.
"I have some clues for you, actually," said the usually quiet Tracey. Daphne looked particularly surprised.
"See? Look at the phrasing. The writer says they 'bequeath' the photo to you. So I'd say they're probably a pure-blood."
"How in Merlin's name can you conclude that from just one word?" demanded Daphne.
"I guess you wouldn't notice. Harry, pure-bloods are more inclined to use old-fashioned words. And they speak more formally in general. In addition to which this note is written on parchment with a quill, with very tidy cursive penmanship and no blots or smears anywhere. The author has been using a quill for many years, I'd say," explained Tracey.
Pansy looked quietly impressed. And maybe a little jealous.
"And of course it is a photo of your mother from when she was young. So the sender must have gone to Hogwarts of course. That doesn't mean they have to be a pure-blood, but they would have to be a wizard or witch, very likely at least a half-blood. And either an adult now, or a student with a parent who went to Hogwarts. No…," here Tracey paused thoughtfully, "to bequeath an item means you're passing it on from yourself to another, right? Obviously not in a will, in this case."
"That's right," Pansy nodded.
"So if the photo was their personal possession, they'd have to be say, thirty years old or more at a minimum. It can't be a student, though it might be their parent. So Harry, which teacher or Hogwarts parent do you think is close enough to you to hear about you wanting a memento of your mother, and be motivated to send it?"
They sat in silence for a while as Harry thought about it. A pure-blood or possibly a half-blood witch or wizard, thirty or more, who might have known his mother, and was mysterious enough to send a photo anonymously. He didn't think it was Dumbledore – he'd already given him his father's cloak – he did that in person as a Christmas gift. It wasn't Ron's mum or Neville's Gran or Pansy's parents, or they would have said something (and Ron's mum had sent a Christmas sweater and fudge). The sender of the photo had "been led to understand" he didn't have anything to remember his mother by. So perhaps they heard it from Dumbledore or one of Harry's friends – but not necessarily by being told directly.
It had to be someone a little underhanded, not a confident Gryffindor like Professor McGonagall, or a friendly Hufflepuff like Professor Sprout. They would give a gift personally, or at least sign it. No, this was someone who would hesitate to approach him in person. Someone a bit more sly - not so sociable. And he was sure it was a teacher.
"I think I know who it was. Do you think it would be appropriate to thank them personally, or should I send a note?" said Harry confidently.
"Oh, definitely send a note," said Pansy. Millicent and Tracey chorused their agreement. "They didn't sign it, so they'd rather keep things quiet for now. Be discreet."
"Who do you think it is?" asked Daphne.
"I'd rather not say," said Harry with a smile. "I think they'd rather not be gossiped about, if they didn't sign the note, don't you? It would be ungracious of me to bandy their name about carelessly," he said with a haughty tone of voice.
"That's the way!" said Tracey encouragingly. "And remember to keep your back straight when you talk like that. Pure-bloods don't slump in their chairs. At least – not in public."
Harry looked around the table. It was true – all the other girls were sitting very straight. He straightened up.
Pansy's newest topic of choice to lecture about was the upcoming celebration of Imbolc. Millicent and Daphne ignored her, choosing to work on their Transfiguration homework instead. But Tracey and Harry both listened attentively. Imbolc was the quarter year spring festival - halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It was traditional to visit sacred wells, or make an offering to the ocean. Lamb was a traditional food to eat – it was the start of the lambing season. Ritual baths to "purify your magic" were common among those who practised the Old Ways. Houses should be given a good clean out too, with floors freshly mopped. It was a good time to bring changes into your life. This festival was associated with the element of water.
"What are the others associated with?" Harry asked.
"Samhain is air – it's all about spirits and the soul, and the emptiness of winter. Beltane on the 1st of May is fire of course, marking the approach of summer. We celebrate with bonfires, and decorate with yellow Mayflowers that represent flames. It's all about uh… well, the fire of emotions too," she said a little awkwardly. Tracey giggled.
Pansy rushed onwards, her cheeks looking rather flushed. "And Lughnasadh is the last one. It's the harvest festival on the 1st of August. It's all about the blessings we receive and give to the abundant earth. We like to have athletic contests – celebrating the strength of our earthly bodies."
As they were packing up to go, Daphne whispered to him confidingly. "Tracey's a half-blood you know, but she's been working diligently with us to improve her behaviour and carry herself like a pure-blood. Learn the Old traditions. She just wants to fit in and be like everyone else. So if she gives you a tip it's probably a good one – she's trying to help and doesn't mean any offence."
Harry certainly could sympathise with that. He hated standing out too. "I'm not offended – it's really helpful - I'm trying to just be a normal wizard too. You can let her know that if you like, and that I said thanks."
"I will, thanks!" said Daphne happily.
He sent a note with a school owl to the secretive gift-giving teacher that very afternoon. He was going up to the owlery anyway, to send a parcel of study notes to Dudley. He thanked the mysterious gift-giver for the precious photo of his mother with his best formal language. He added that he respected their wish for privacy, but if they'd like to meet with him quietly after class one day that he'd love to hear some more about his mother.
A/N: Thanks to my reviewers Riniko22 and mergirl007 whose comments had me include Harry and Hermione's chat about their study goals early, rather than them not discussing it until much later. Thanks! I think it's a better chapter for your feedback.
As this fic is already complete, I can't change big things easily but I can tweak things here and there in upcoming chapters if I get some great suggestions in a review on a chapter.