A/N

This chapter contains a larger number of smaller and partially independent scenes. Most of them (with the exemption of the last one) aren't exceptionally important and so I often only adumbrated an event.

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Visit of the Spanish Lady

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Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office – 24th of December

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The Headmaster's mood hadn't improved in the past couple of days. He had hoped to win a few days with the orders and hints he had given to the relevant persons at the Ministry and Gringotts. But again his plans had gone awry.

Perhaps he should have expected Lady Greengrass to ask Amelia Bones for help. Apparently he had underestimated how close the women had become since that poison incident. Dumbledore sighed. He had handled the matter badly. With an unimportant Muggleborn the target of the attack, he had been content that there hadn't been any victims, nothing to besmirch the reputation of Hogwarts, nothing to startle the more important families of the Wizarding World. The decision had been a rational one, but he had missed a golden opportunity to get some brownie points with Harry. Solving the mystery around the assassination attempt would certainly have impressed the boy. Now, months later, it was too late. Perhaps he could present him a scapegoat, Dumbledore shortly mused. The idea merited more contemplation.

Daphne Greengrass had rescued the girl and simultaneously prevented a criminal charge against Susan Bones. No wonder that her Aunt had been willing to help in the adoption case. Instead of several months, instead of stalling the matter until the summer break, the adoption had already been settled.

Miss Granger, Dumbledore pondered. She was still in his care. Perhaps it would be possible to use his guardianship over her. He had to be very careful in the amount of pressure he applied. She respected him and loved to be at Hogwarts. Could he use that against Harry? Naturally Minerva should never be allowed to hear anything about that. His former staunchest supporter had changed into a harassing critic in the last weeks. Dumbledore allowed himself to moan in frustration. So much had taken a turn for the worse. And now this – Dumbledore stared at the letter that arrived at his office this morning, a letter from Accountant Griphook.

With Lady Greengrass' new status as Harry's guardian Griphook hadn't been able to furthermore deny her access to the account's documents. Her mother had even been able to get the help of Griphook's superior for the examination. He hadn't expected such a move. Goblins were notoriously unwilling to help a wizard or witch in the control of another Goblin's work, and only a few wizards would even think about such a move.

Dumbledore didn't know the amount of information Lady Greengrass and the Potter-boy had received, but he had to assume the worst. And with Wyvernclaw involved it was only a question of time until the Goblins started a serious investigation. Most of his actions had been within legal limits, but rumours about them could seriously damage his reputation. Nobody would understand that he hadn't done this to enrich himself, that he only needed that money to further the cause of the greater good. Perhaps he should have accepted the appointment as Minister of Magic thirteen years ago. Many things would have been easier.

No, Dumbledore shook his head. It was still better to be the grey eminence behind the curtain.

But he had to act now. And he had to act fast and determined.

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Pinegrew Manor – Breakfast room

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They were sitting at the table in a cheerful mood. The four teenagers, Roxanne and Agatha enjoyed a hearty breakfast with eggs, bacon and sausages. Harry liked the wide choice of juices the most. After three years of pumpkin juice at Hogwarts he would like to bathe in apple juice, orange juice and the more exotic ones, some of them unknown to him until a few days ago.

Drinking a sourer variant from his crystal glass – he already had learned that crystal glasses and tumblers were one of the luxuries that were important to Agatha – he followed the amused look of Hermione and Daphne to the second table a few steps away. There, at a smaller round table, Ciddy was feeding Crookshanks, Balou, Hedwig and Mandragora with nibbles of all kind. Every fifth bite landed in her own mouth and she seemed to really like her pet round. Harry only hoped that Ciddy wouldn't start to dress the tomcats like little children. He had seen it once with a very 'strongly build' – read: fat – toy poodle. He shuddered as he imagined Balou with some kind of yellow outfit.

Agatha grinned as she thought about her son-in-law. Cyrus would have an apoplexy at the sight. He had never been able to understand the sense of love towards an innocent creature. Owls were only an instrument to him, their duty to deliver mail. Cats were completely useless in his opinion. Who needed the affection of a cat if you can buy a whore? The elder lady grimaced quickly.

It was an open secret that Lucius spent a part of his money on his physical pleasure – the fact that Narcissa, according to rumours, hadn't been very 'enthusiastic' since Draco's birth certainly being an important reason for that behaviour – and that he more than once had persuaded Cyrus and a few of his other 'important' friends to accompany him. There even was the rumour that he paid for Lady Catherine Yanue, the French bitch – pardon: Society Lady – Veela and Minister's mistress. To have a mistress was certainly a French tradition that Britain didn't need to import.

Harry happily looked around. This was his first breakfast as an official part of this family, hopefully many more would follow. "What are your plans for today… Mother?" The last word he emphasized while trying to avoid looking at Roxanne or Daphne. The small pause before her answer told him enough about her emotions. He had decided to call her mother from now on and somehow it felt right, didn't feel like a betrayal to Lily.

"Master Wyvernclaw wanted to speak with us about the investigation after Christmas. We should try to forget about that business for a while. Regretfully your wands won't be ready today, but I thought you could use a visit to a wiz-optician."

Harry blinked. His glasses had been a part of him for several years now. He hadn't been at an optician since entering school seven years ago. Hermione had repaired his glasses more than a few times in the past. It was really time for a new pair. Perhaps it would be possible to get one with a kind of spell against weather. He painfully remembered those Quidditch games where he had struggled with Scottish rain. "I would like that."

"That's about your glasses. Daphne, I thought you could use the time and show Hermione Hobbiton. I'm sure she'll like that."

"Hobbiton?" Hermione blinked. Naturally she knew the name, but how could Daphne show her a fictional village.

"Splendid idea, Mum," Daphne grinned. "You'll love it, Hermione."

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Pinegrew Manor Area – Hobbiton

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Hermione had no idea what to expect as she followed Daphne through the back area of Pinegrew Manor. Neville was holding her hand and smiling reassuringly while they looked at a rose garden, a small pavilion and a grove of elm trees. She hadn't expected the area around the manor to be this vast. Suddenly the trees gave room to a clearing, the sight being one made of reading dreams.

*Blink*

*Stare*

*Blink*

Daphne giggled "It's cute, isn't it?"

Neville pressed Hermione's hand: "I see it too."

Hermione shook her head, stared again. In front of her stood a broadly grinning Ciddy, with a bunch of house elves. Some of them she already knew –there was Philly, Ciddy's younger brother, and over there waved Matti in her direction, the chief cook – but others she had never seen before. Old elves, very young elves, whole families – all in all more than a score of house elves waiting in front of something that could only be the product of her fantasy, or the fantasy of JRR Tolkien.

Settled in the clearing six to eight small hillocks were visible, grass-covered but with chimneys. Gardens with flowers and herbs surrounded the hillocks and in the centre of the tiny settlement was a gathering place with a low tribune and a circle of wooden benches.

"Two hundred years ago some Irish house elves started to work for my family. Great-great-Grandma Josephine allowed them to build a home like they were used to have in Ireland. The other house elves liked the idea and since then there has always been a Hobbiton at Pinegrew Manor."

"It's so like…"

"Tolkien's Shireton?" Daphne smiled. "I know. We assume that Tolkien came across an Irish house elf settlement and got inspired. In any case it would be too much of a coincidence. Let's go… Ciddy wanted to show you her house."

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Pinegrew Manor

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"You have to look yourself, Harry," Hermione babbled. She had spoken nonstop since his return: Ciddy's home this, Ciddy's home that.

"And it's so tiny and lovely. I felt like Alice complete with growing potion ingested. I had to be really careful not to damage the walls or roof. They built a house for Cathy – she's Ciddy's cousin you know and she'll marry next summer. I've been invited to the wedding. I'm sure she'll invite you too."

Her cheeks had a nice shade of red while she told agitatedly about the settlement. Daphne and the others were listening, her mother a knowing smile on her lips. She had hoped that Hermione would react like this. Not only was the welfare of elves very important to her, but also she really needed a bit more of relaxed joy in her life.

"So you have no problems anymore with my family being a bunch of slave holders?" Harry asked with a grin. My family – it was still new enough to cause reactions from Daphne and Roxanne and to be special for him to use those words.

Hermione rabbit punched his arm. "Prat, naturally not, this is something completely different." She sighed. "But I'm happy that Daphne…"

"That Daphne…" Harry ushered.

"You know about my idea with S.P.E.W. this fall. Daphne stopped me, told me that I first have to speak with elves, get to know what kind of help they need and want." She sighed a bit unhappy. "I really wanted to help the house elves, even pondered about knitting them socks to set them free."

"That wouldn't work," Neville interrupted. "It has to be the owner to give them clothes, in case of Hogwarts it should be the Headmaster, I assume."

Daphne nodded. "And it is very compassionate of you, that you want to help them. It's no wonder that Ciddy already likes you more than me."

Hermione blushed and mumbled something incomprehensible. But Daphne hugged her shortly: "It is okay, really. Not every elf has a life like those in our household." She shortly glared dangerously at Harry. "And get this straight: You have a family tradition to uphold. To treat your house elves like a Malfoy is a grave offense in the eyes of a Pinegrew lady."

Harry bowed deeply. "A clever man would do nothing to offend his lady."

"Good answer."

Suddenly Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "What about Dobby, Harry?"

"Dobby?" Harry asked; then he nodded slowly. "We should speak with him. Perhaps he could live here, if he wants. Or he could look after Potter Manor. With Fletcher out of the picture someone has to take care of the house."

Hermione agreed with a smile: "I'm certain he would love that." The thought of having a house elf working at Potter Manor still troubled her a bit. But if Harry wasn't the perfect master, who else?

"Could he take Winky with him?" Ciddy piped.

"Who's Winky?"

"Winky is a new elf. She lost her family and is very downtrodden since then. Her former master sent her away. She's working in the kitchen at Hogwarts, but she's drinking too much butterbeer. Dobby tried to uplift her mood, but he was unsuccessful so far."

"I remember her," Harry said. "She had been the house elf of Crouch until the Quidditch finals."

Again Hermione admired how well-spoken the Pinegrew Elves were. Nothing of that 'third person ramblings' many elves used. Roxanne had told her about Agatha teaching the older elves. "No Elf that isn't able to speak properly is allowed to work in the house." Apparently it had been enough of an enticement to learn.

"I don't think that would be a problem. Certainly a complete manor could use more than one elf. We'll speak with Dobby about her, too."

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"Harry, where are your glasses?" Hermione stared at her friend. Harry had been back for more than an hour but she had been so agitated, so anxious to speak about Hobbiton, that she totally missed the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore.

"He was at the wiz-optician, Hermione," Daphne stated like it would explain everything. It did not. Hermione stared blankly at her, so Daphne smilingly continued: "Have you seen any other boy at Hogwarts with glasses – perhaps a few Muggle-born, but any Wizard-born?"

Hermione pondered for a moment; then she shook her head.

"See? It is unusual among us. Harry, you're wearing magical contact lenses now; am I right?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "New sized, wearable the whole year. Merlin, they even put a charm on it. Now they darken a bit in bright sun and they protect my eyes against airstream."

"That's nice. I have something similar too. Not to enhance my eyesight, only the sun and wind protection. For Quidditch, you know."

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"Back to your question from this morning, Harry," Roxanne started. They were sitting at the table again, eating a small lunch as preparation for a long afternoon. "Our plans…" She looked at her mother to continue.

"We have planned something for the next days. With the tournament at Hogwarts and some not so happy incidents last term we're sure that you should use the time to prepare yourselves."

"But you'll do more than learn," Roxanne interjected. "We created a timetable and there will be time for sports and relaxation too. And TV family evenings," she smiled. The discussion between her and Agatha had been long and arduous one. The conflict – learn as much as possible to help them defend themselves, but allow enough time to be normal teenagers – had been very difficult. Likewise it had been tough to decide about the most urgent training sessions. Which could be done at Hogwarts and what should be learned here?

Hermione sighed. "But I have to go back to my family after the celebration. I would really like to stay here, but my parents… I miss them. I've not seen them for months and the summer break is so far away."

"That's not a problem, dear." Agatha patted her hand. "I've invited them to have a small holiday at Pinegrew Manor. Sports, reading, relaxing, fine feeding… they even wanted to try a bit of horse riding and your mother was interested in a fencing lesson. And they could watch some of the magic you've learned so far."

Hermione looked flabbergasted at her. Slowly a broad smile crept on her face, before she hurried to Agatha and hugged her heartily. "Thank you, Agatha, thank you."

"You're welcome. You're parents seemed to be very nice, especially your mum. Now I know where you inherited some of your better traits."

Hermione blushed and nodded. She really loved her mother. Dan, her father was sometimes a bit stern and had been worried about her witch status four years ago. Never could she tell him about all the adventures and dangers at Hogwarts without risking that he tried to pull her out. But her mother Ellen had always been very supportive.

She had also been the one to teach her about the Catholic belief. Her father – at least officially an Anglican – had allowed this in Great Britain very unusual belief to be taught to his daughter. "It means much to Ellen," he once explained. "And for me it's only important that she adopts Christian virtues and be humane."

"So you can spend some hours with your parents and still participate in the lessons," Agatha continued. "We had some difficulties to decide what to teach you, how to arrange your time. I still assume that Occlumency and Legilimency are very important. I will teach you Occlumency, and Aunt Anne offered to start Legilimency sessions with Daphne. We both know that your talents aren't really in that field, Daphne, but you already began to learn and you four will need a Legilimens to train in Occlumency at Hogwarts. By the way, Anne wanted to test you all four regarding your mind talents. That should be interesting."

The teenagers, especially Harry, looked uncomfortably at her. Did they really want an unknown woman to examine their mind? "I trust her," Daphne stated, realizing their qualms. "She'll be careful and won't probe too deep. She'll never betray your trust." Harry smiled and nodded slowly.

"About testing," Roxanne took over. "You know that in the Pinegrew family there is a tradition to learn the Animagus spell. The same could be said about the Potter family. But this spell is very difficult and time intensive to learn. And not everyone has the needed talent for it. Agatha and I think it would be better to delay that training at least until summer. One small part you can already begin however, as it would help with your Occlumency training too.

"We'll teach you some Meditation techniques that compose the first of many steps towards being an Animagus. And we started to brew a potion that will tell you if you're talented and how difficult it will be. If you want you can make the test next week."

"Should I make this test too, Mum?" Daphne asked a bit downtrodden.

Harry wondered: "Naturally, why shouldn't you? You even more than us, Daphne."

Daphne forced a weak smile. "It isn't so easy, Harry."

"We never tested Daphne until now, Harry," Roxanne explained. "I expect her to be talented, at least at my level, meaning she could learn it but with difficulties and a huge amount of discipline. But even if she's able to master an Animagus form it could be better not to do so. Daphne's talents are still growing and Anne has to test her again next summer. According to her estimation there is a large risk that learning that spell could backfire and destroy some of her other abilities. We have to wait and see and then it will be Daphne's decision to make."

"I don't understand what you're speaking about. What other abilities do you mean?"

"You'll hear about it, Harry, later. For now let's simply wait and do the test. Perhaps there isn't even a decision to be made at all."

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Pinegrew Manor – Training Room – Afternoon

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Perhaps as a distraction Roxanne convinced the teenagers to do a first training session after the short meal. Leading them downstairs they found themselves in a large room a short while later, possibly meant as a gym. The room was empty at the moment, aside from a wall crafted from a glass-like substance that screened off a quarter of the room and contained a dozen chairs and a few small tables.

"We will have to enhance the room in the next few months. At the moment we only added some protection spells. The wall should be enough to shield spectators against stray spells. But please don't use Reducto spells in the moment." Roxanne smiled knowingly at Harry and Hermione, as she had been the last one to use that special spell. "Today we'll only perform a small duel training. First a small pass against me to see your strengths and weaknesses, after that we'll decide how to pair you up for today."

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Sweat and pain could be the description of the next two hours. That none of the teenagers, not even Harry, came close to defeating her surprised none. But to see her dodge nearly every spell, only using a Protego as she went against Harry and Daphne together – the two fastest offensive casters of the group – was simply stunning. She urged the teenagers to try the same and the exhaustion proved clearly that they needed their ongoing physical training if they wanted to dodge more than a handful spells in a row. They had stopped it in the last weeks because of the weather and now regretted that decision dearly.

Interestingly only Neville had qualms to hit someone – Hermione – with his spells and had to be paired with someone else. Daphne and Harry on the other hand apparently enjoyed being sparring partner very much. Daphne was nearly as fast as Harry and was clearly more accurate with her spells, while Harry's spells were at least twice the strength of hers.

"Daphne," Harry yelled and hurried at her side. His last Stupefy not only had hit her Shield but even blasted it away and sent her to the ground. Hastily he cast an Enervate and kneeled at her side, gently lifting her head and shoulders to look at her. "Are you alright?"

"That's a stupid question, Mister Potter," Daphne sputtered, her cheeks red with anger and something else, her eyes glittering. "Everything hurts."

"Where does it hurt," he asked and stared, not looking very intelligent now.

A small smirk appeared on her lips as she pointed towards her neck: "Here."

"Show me," Harry whispered, bowing down to inspect the spot. There was nothing, no bruise, only soft skin, smelling of herb soap and glistening with sweat. "Better?" He asked after he pressed a small kiss on the spot.

"Better," Daphne whispered. Suddenly she blushed deeply and stared above Harry's shoulder. Without turning around he asked with a low voice: "Mother?" Daphne nodded and whispered back: "Mother."

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Pinegrew Manor – Sitting Room – Evening

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After the training it had been a fabulous idea to make use of the roofed swimming pool. In the summer the roof could be retracted, but now they had been happy to have something between them and the December weather. The most important conversation matter was certainly the last duel between Neville and Roxanne.

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Moving her head only a handbreadth to the left Roxanne avoided Neville's last spell, again. More than two dozen spells – Stupefy, Expelliarmus and a few stinging hexes – had missed the mark and slowly the calm boy lost his nerve a bit. His face already had a shade of red, sign of his exhaustion and frustration. Instead of getting better he slowly descended into a sense of defeat.

Suddenly a weak smile became visible, showing too openly that a thought had crossed his mind, a new tactic.

"Aguamenti!" Within seconds a sheet of water covered the ground, turning into ice as Neville followed up with a "Glacis!"

With delight he watched as Roxanne slipped to the ground. Hastily he shot two spells in her direction. The first she evaded with a tumble, the second was deflected by her Protego. In the cover of her shield Roxanne cast a spell on herself, one Neville didn't recognize. Trying to defeat her before she was able to dispel his ice, he stepped forward and tried another disarming spell.

Open-mouthed Neville saw Roxanne jumping aside, coming to a stop with a screech of her feet. Marks were visible in the ice beside her feet but before he had time to react or think about the meaning of this, his wand went flying away and he was sent to the ground with a full body bind.

Graceful and as if she was walking on normal ground instead of ice – every step accompanied by the same small screech – Roxanne went to Neville and bowed slightly. "Good tactic, Mister Longbottom. Make the ground unstable if your enemy is too fast. But don't count too much on that tactic." She raised her right foot and showed small spikes on the sole. "Ice walker Charm," she explained. "I'll show you the spell later. For our next lesson I expect from everyone a tactic to defeat a faster opponent and a counter to your tactic."

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Now – dried, changed and rested – they were waiting in the sitting room for dinner to be served. The last evening in this small gathering, Harry pondered. During the next day the guests would arrive. Sirius and Remus would be there, Augusta Longbottom and Hermione's parents, as well as a few others. At least Roxanne had only invited family and friends, no 'political or economic allies' as it was usual within old families. She wanted to have a nice celebration without having to fear any 'incidents' with some Pureblood insulting Hermione or a fan girl staring at him. Harry was more than happy about this decision.

As the door opened, Harry saw a woman enter he until now only knew from some pictures in the rooms of Roxanne and Daphne. Like Roxanne she had black hair and was around her age, perhaps a few years older. But there the similarities stopped.

She wasn't very tall, only an inch more than Harry, he assumed. Olive toned skin, the hair much shorter than Roxanne's – a bit tomboyish. While Roxanne and Daphne moved graciously, this woman behaved like an athlete. The shoulders of a swimmer, the legs of a runner, she certainly was a sight to behold, but more in a sensual way than like a classical beauty. But her smile as she greeted Daphne and hugged her crushingly changed his whole impression of her from being a dangerous predator to looking like Daphne's big sister.

For a while both seemed to forget everyone else and spoke rapidly in another language – Spanish, Harry suspected. Only Roxanne's harrumph caused them to make a break and acknowledge the rest of the attendants.

"Hello Anne, I'm surprised to see you here already."

Anne sighed. "I got a bit frustrated with my colleagues this afternoon. They always behave like the French Auror Department would contain only idiots. I really needed a break and decided it would be an idea to come a bit earlier." She turned around and shortly looked at the other teenagers before she went to Hermione. "So this must be Miss Granger. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Señora Hernandez." Like could be expected Hermione tried to pronounce the name as correctly as possible, prompting a small smile of approval from their guest. If she was surprised to be recognized immediately and greeted before Harry – the boy-who-lived and family member – she didn't show it.

"Please call me Anne or Ana," Anne corrected "otherwise I feel so immensely old."

"Ana it is then," Hermione smiled at her.

"And these are Mister Neville Longbottom – grandson of Augusta – and the newest addition of our family: Harry Potter-Pinegrew."

Anne greeted Neville with a very warm smile and Harry with a thoughtful glare. In contrary to the first evening with Daphne five months ago, this glare wasn't a sign of hostility but of keen interest and the wish to wait for more information about him. That was at least the impression Harry got and he hoped to be right about it. He really didn't want to experience another three months trying to convince another family member of his worthiness. And while Daphne had only been a bit bitchy to him in the beginning, this woman seemed to be much more dangerous if angered.

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The dinner had been a happy matter. Anne had been willing to speak about her home and proved herself to be an accomplished travel guide, describing a number of Spanish cities, their history and how the cultures of Occident and Orient had blended into something unique. Hermione wasn't the only one who had the wish to visit these cities in the future after those stories.

As the group returned to the sitting room, Anne suddenly asked Roxanne: "Have you already used your Winter solstice potion?"

Winter solstice potion, Harry mouthed silently in Neville's direction only to get a shrug for an answer.

"No, we wanted to wait for you, Anne. I hoped you would cast the examination spells. You have far more practice than I with them. It will be the first time for Harry and perhaps Hermione and Neville want to follow."

"Potion?" Hermione asked now. "Examination spells?"

"Yes," Daphne started to explain. "In our family, with all the contacts to Purebloods and Slytherins… you know, it's not that we don't trust our friends but you still have to be careful."

Harry blinked, not instantly grasping what Daphne was speaking about.

"Love potions," Neville helped. "My grandma used flushing potions on me a few time, to make sure that my crushes were for real and not something artificial."

"So I have to expect that she uses one again on you anytime soon, hearing about me," Hermione asked not too friendly.

"Absolutely," Neville agreed, trying hard to sound nonchalant "especially after Skeeter's last article about you and your hunt for…"

"Ron, Krum, Harry… now Neville… did I forget a target of our little gold-digger?" Daphne grinned.

"Draco," Harry added; his nonchalance more convincing than Neville's. "That broken nose last year was certainly only a sign of…"

"Careful now, Mister Potter," Hermione growled.

All eyes resting on him, Harry's mind raced. "Ehm… a sign of strong emotions, said entirely without judgment."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Luckily Harry was rescued by Daphne: "Our potion is something else, Neville. Yours – the more traditionally used flushing potion – is only to counter love and compulsion potions. Ours interact with a broad number of potions and spells. It isn't strong enough to really flush them out of your body and mind – in case you want some of those spells active in you – but reacts strongly enough to allow a special examination spell to be cast."

"We do that three times a year. It isn't a one hundred percent protection but at least enough to counter long-term effects. Please stay secretive about that. Not everybody has to know about this family secret."

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"Interesting," Anne uttered after examining Daphne: "Nothing on you this time. I really had expected someone to try to use some potion on you again. Apparently nobody was brave or foolish enough."

"Again?" Harry asked with a low growl. "What do you mean with again?"

"Exactly what I said, Harry," Anne answered a bit harsh. "A year ago someone used a weak compulsion spell on Daphne, a few times even. And two years ago… let's just say that Mister Malfoy wasn't sure about Daphne emotions towards his darling son. Not that it really helped his case. But these are old stories. Now let's see the others."

Not really content with the answer, Harry watched Anne warily as she cast the spell on him and Hermione. Both glowed a bit green, signs of spells used on them. On Harry this glow was mixed with blue stripes.

"Someone used a 'friendship compulsion' spell on Hermione. I guess last summer and the summer before – not very strong spells, only to enhance existing feelings. They should have no impact on her in the moment. The same can be said about Harry: soft spells to enhance feelings. But someone added a very weak love potion – low but long-during effect. Normally things like that are used if the culprit fears to get caught because of a larger change in the behaviour of the target."

Hermione – very angry herself – half expected a new explosion of Harry. A few months ago he certainly would have reacted that way but again he showed this new side. Suddenly Harry felt himself hugged. "I'm so proud of you, Harry."

"Ehm… you're welcome? But how have I earned the praise?"

"I think she likes this new side of you, Harry," Neville helped: "This calmer side without temper tantrums. I mean: You really have reasons to go ballistic after this insight of Anne." Harry was positively surprised how well Neville had started to understand Hermione.

"Okay, I can live with that." Harry glared at no one especially. "But don't think that I like this. Someone has to pay for this."

"And someone will," Daphne agreed.

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An idea crossed Harry's mind. "Would it be possible to detect if an Imperio had been cast on a person?"

"You think about those 'I've been under an Imperio as I murdered those Muggles' excuses?"

Harry nodded.

"In a way, yes. But it wouldn't help."

"Why not," Harry frowned.

"Like those under age tracer spells or Veritaserum, this spell could be outwitted, should its use be more widespread. It has severe limitations. I'm able to detect the traces of an Imperio. Sometimes I can even say how often the spell had been cast or guess how strong it had been. But I have no idea what kind of command had been spoken.

"I see the traces of that Imperio your teacher cast on you two months ago. But neither can I judge if you had been able to throw the spell off nor what he wanted you to do. Daphne told me that he ordered all of you to sing, to dance and do other absurd things. Should this be enough to explain your last killing spree? No, as soon as we use this spell in court, the Deatheaters would start to use it to prove their claim to be innocent."

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"Now let's have a look at Neville," Anne stated and cast her spell.

"I don't think that something…" Neville stopped, looking flabbergasted at the glow. It was green, but a different shade to the colour on Harry and Hermione before.

"That's no compulsion spell," Roxanne assessed.

"No, it isn't" Anne agreed. "I assume that the culprit knew about Augusta's caution. And the intent of this spell is way different. Its target is the self-esteem of the young man. Do tell me, Mister Longbottom, do you have any problems with clumsiness? Or perhaps your spell-casting – are you especially bad and weak at it? Sorry if I'm a bit too direct but this is important."

Neville slowly nodded, all colour draining from his face.

"You can certainly say that," Harry agreed. "Neville holds the highest score in destroyed potion cauldrons and he…" Harry stopped blushingly.

"I'm a bit of a Squib," Neville whispered. "My family feared for a long time that I would never be a real Wizard."

"Neville is really fast at learning spells," Hermione complemented. "But his spell casting is often terrible. Sometimes I have no idea what's wrong with his casting. Motions and words seem to be correct but still it doesn't work or the spell is very weak."

Anne stared thoughtfully at Neville. She renewed the examination spell and stared at the glowing aura again. At last she said with a stern voice: "Agatha, this young man needs one of the bracers the others wear already. I'll have to read some of my books to continue; I'll fetch them when I return from the Delacour Ball in two days. I don't want to promise too much, Neville, but I think it should be possible to break this charm in a few days. Perhaps we can perform the ritual on New Year. It won't be a fast change but something needing a few months to adjust after that."

"But what kind of charm is it," Neville asked irritated. A charm had been cast on him and a dire one to add, following the expression and tune of Anne's voice.

"It is a misalignment spell," Anne explained. "It is like… your mind compass and your magical compass aren't aligned as it should be. Even a perfectly cast spell – perfect in motion and wording – would only get below standard results. It weakens every of your spells and negates any imperfectly cast one. A side effect is a 'bad luck effect'. Your mind is subconsciously trying to realign and interferes with all other actions."

"I think I understand what you want to explain," Hermione interjected. "But who should do this to him and why?"

"That's something for you to figure out," Anne responded. "I'm only able to detect the spell and hopefully to counter the effect."

.

"My whole life I… it was never enough. I was never able to be like my father, never good enough to get more than a token praise for my willingness. Grandma feared that I'd be a Squib and even now she's not expecting much from me. And all this could be a result of this spell?"

"It seems so," Harry agreed. The boys had prepared themselves to go to bed, while Daphne and Hermione had accompanied Anne to speak with her about… Harry didn't know about what, only that Daphne had shown a very serious face. "You've always been a bit too shy and not very self-confident. Could it be that someone tried to get exactly that result?"

"But why?" Neville asked confused. "I'm nobody special."

"You're the son of Frank and Alicia Longbottom. Your parents, like mine, had been the targets of the Deatheaters fourteen years ago. Perhaps it has something to do with those events," Harry shrugged. "And, Neville: You're someone very special, to your family and to us. And especially special to Hermione," he added with a happy grin.

.

A/N

Surprised? Yes, this times no "Harry's magical core has been limited". This time Neville had been the target. But don't expect Neville to be the new Merlin. The target of the spell is more his self-esteem than his magical power itself. And the question is: Who cast the spell and why?