A/N: Review responses are in my forums like normal. I hope everyone is enjoying their winter holidays.

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Chapter Sixteen: The New Normal

Harry was not surprised to find Luna reading in their small common room when he and Hermione returned. Before greeting her, he looked about the room, until Luna said, "I deactivated them, Harry. There were three in here, and five in each of our rooms."

Hannah, coming behind with Hermione and Neville, said, "What were in our rooms?"

"Listening charms," Harry said darkly. He removed the shrunken plate, restored it, removed the stasis charm and handed it to Luna. "Why didn't you eat with us?"

Luna looked down at her book, though she did accept the plate with murmured thanks. Harry sat next to her and said, "What did Garrick tell us?"

"What he said doesn't matter. He was never married to Hermione!" Luna said, flushing angrily.

"How am I supposed to be nice with that?" Hermione demanded.

"Do they always fight like that?" Neville asked.

"Since we bonded," Harry said with a resigned sigh.

The comment made both Hermione and Luna look at him. He returned each of their gazes before jumping to his feet. "What? You two have been sniping at each other like bloody cats. It isn't stressful enough knowing the Sabbat is still out to kill us; you two have to make it worse? Hermione, we just bonded, we're supposed to be in the post-bond bliss, and yet you're acting like I killed your cat. And Luna, great Merlin, you're not eight! Buck up, stop crying and accept that I am your husband! That's not going to change. Yes, we know you didn't want to share, but it's done. Deal with it and stop making us all miserable!"

Luna dropped the plate on the floor and started sobbing. "Well shite!" Hermione muttered.

Neville stared at Harry's hopeless frustration, then at Hannah, and then at the door where somehow Fred and Angelina had appeared. The other couple had watched the whole thing in silence, but now Angelina marched into their room, grabbed Hermione, and said, "Sit your arse down, Granger."

Hermione, still angry, tried to pull away, but Angelina was taller, older, and after years of playing Quidditch as a Chaser, significantly stronger: Hermione couldn't move. "I said sit!" the larger girl ordered.

Cowed a little, Hermione sat down. Angelina turned to Harry and said, "Sit!"

Harry, having known Angelina longer, didn't even try to resist and took a spot between the sobbing Luna and the flustered, angry Hermione.

"So much for the bliss of bonding!" Fred said, wide-eyed. It was the first time he spoken since they all sat.

"It has to do with the dual Aether bonding," Luna began. "She…she didn't just bond with Harry. She bonded with me too."

The people in the room stared at her, aghast. "Did that mean….you know?"

Hermione's face flushed. "It wasn't right."

Fred grinned. "Are girl kisses better?"

"Love, shut up," Angelina said.

"But you said they were!"

"I'm not Hermione," Angelina said. "I had years getting used to you and your pervy sister."

"Where is Georgina, by the way?" Harry asked.

"Shagging Lee, of course," Fred said with a shrug. "They've been going at it since they bonded this summer. They're down the room a spittin' distance."

"So everyone did get married this summer?" Harry muttered.

"Let's just say last year shook a lot of people up," Hannah said.

"And my Mum found out we'd been shagging Angelina and Lee for a couple of months and sort of insisted we bond and such," Fred asked. "You know, the twin thing let us get away with it without bonding. And since there's no way in hell either of us are in line for Elder or Dame, no harm done for either."

"Bonds don't make things perfect, but usually they're not this bad," Angelina said, dismissing her husband. "So why the hell are you little blighters fighting so much?"

"Luna's afraid that I will love Hermione more than her," Harry finally said. "She's infertile because of being proscribed, so she's afraid the Covens will force her to be stilled to break the bond. Hermione is afraid that because she's a second wife, Luna will lord it over her and make her life miserable."

"And what are you afraid of, Harry?" Hannah asked quietly.

"I'm afraid I can't make them both happy," Harry said, blushing. "That the Covens will come after us, and I won't know enough to protect them, or the Covens won't even give me a chance to protect them at all. I'm afraid that they aren't my friends anymore because of this stupid bonding."

Both girls were staring at him now, jaws agape. "Harry…" Hermione began.

"You girls keep fighting and shouting about how you didn't want this, do you think I did?" Harry said. "How do you think it made me feel when Luna cried our first time? I felt like a dirty piece of filth, like I was doing something horrid and wrong to her. Never mind that she showed up at my house and the bond was involuntary. Or when we bonded, Hermione! You treated it like a bloody business transaction! 'Do this, Harry.'" He mocked in a falsetto. "'Do this, Luna.' 'No, no, Luna, that's wrong.' 'We're done, let's get dressed and go get married.' Bloody hell, Hermione, you're my wife now! Do you think this is how it's supposed to be?"

"You three need some potions," Angelina declared.

Hannah laughed. "Oh, oh, what is it Hooch says? Bonds don't make people love each other…."

"….potions do," Angelina finished.

"Potions won't fix the problem," Hermione finally said.

"No," Hannah agreed, more sombre now. "But they might help heal the wounds until you build up some emotional calluses. Consider it, if nothing else. In fact, you should get some now."

"I'd suggest Amore 2," Fred said.

Angelina nodded. "It's the best one out there—twenty four hours, and non-addicting. Best of all, it's mild. It won't turn you into raving love-struck fools, but it'll just make you like each other more."

"Fine, we'll try it," Hermione decided for the whole group.

"Now, will someone tell me why you are all in here?" Harry asked.

"We got messages from a phoenix that we needed to be," Angelina said.

"Literally," Fred said. "Bloody thing scared the shite out of me, let me say."

Harry blinked in confusion. "I don't…"

"Harry," Hannah said, "have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "I should, my mum founded it."

Hannah blushed. "I just wasn't sure how much you remembered…"

"Everything," Harry said. "They managed to get our memories smuggled to us. Luna and I remember everything."

They spent the rest of the evening talking about what the Order represented, who was in it, and what their ultimate goals were. They agreed that their short term goal was just to survive the year and get their OWLs. After they finished talking, and an hour before curfew, Harry left the married quarters and made his way to the hospital wing to fetch the love potions Angelina and Fred suggested.

He turned a corner onto the main level of the castle where the Hospital Wing was when a thickly muscled arm swung out at him from nowhere. Despite a solid month of hard training, Harry was not preternaturally skilled nor that experienced a fighter; he never had a chance. The blow knocked him back several feet where he landed on his arse.

He barely had a chance to blink before he found a huge, hulking figure standing over him. Gregoria Goyle out-massed Harry easily two-to-one despite his growth spurts. Not only was she twice as wide, but she was still taller, and had hugely muscled arms that were not just a result of fat, but actual hard work.

"What the hell, Goyle!" Harry snapped angrily.

"Ten points for striking a prefect," Goyle said grimly. Only then did he see the Prefect Badge on her robe.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry demanded.

"I warned you," she said with narrowed eyes. "I told you what would happen. You think it's over? You think your little Mudblood is safe? I tried to be your friend, Harry, but I can't be, not any more. Don't get comfortable—you're not going to make it through the year."

With that, she walked past him, leaving him in stunned silence. After a moment, he picked himself up and walked to the hospital wing for the potions. The seventh year intern was on duty, not Pomfrey. He did not know the girl—she was a Ravenclaw. However, she seemed to know him and looked down at him with a sneer. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Love potions, Amore 2 if you have them."

"Looney Luna not doing it for you on her own?" the girl said with a hateful laugh. "We're out, come back tomorrow."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he studied her magic. "You're lying."

"Prove it."

To her shock, he walked to the speaking tube, turned it on, and said, "Madam Pomfrey, this is Harry Potter. I'm sorry to bother you, but your intern is refusing to dispense a potion to me. Is there something you might be able to assist me with?"

The older Ravenclaw pulled her wand. "You stupid, arrogant wanker!"

The curse the girl cast looked dark, purple, and much more dangerous than any school prank. He ducked out of the way of the spell, which struck and utterly destroyed the speaking tube. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey chose that exact moment to walk into the hospital wing. "Miss Winterbourne!" she shouted. "Drop your wand, this instant!"

Flushing and cursing angrily, Winterbourne dropped her wand. Pomfrey walked up to the girl, picked up her wand from the bed where it fell, and said, "Fifty points from Ravenclaw and two weeks detention! Additionally, you are hereby dismissed as my intern. You will not be getting my recommendation to the healer program. Get out, now!"

"You're dead, Potter!" Winterbourne screamed before she stalked angrily out of the Hospital Wing.

When she was gone, Pomfrey spun about, eyes ablaze, and pointed at Harry. "And you! Twenty points from Gryffindor for inciting violence, and a week's detention! I don't care what happened to you this summer. You do not overstep my interns. If you have an issue with one of my girls, you go through proper channels with your head of house. While an intern is in here, that intern acts as my representative and I will not have a mere fifth-year boy question my people, do you understand?"

The anger was completely unexpected and caught Harry completely off guard. "We just needed love potions," he said in a small voice.

Pomfrey raised one brow, not quite ready to let go of her anger. "Love potions? That's what all this is about?"

"We're…the other couples suggested we try a love potion," Harry said. "We've been fighting a lot."

"Fighting? Morgana, boy, what have you done to them?"

Harry sighed in frustration. "Can I please just have three doses of the potion?"

Muttering angrily, she rummaged in her potion stores before fetching the three phials of pink potion. "Amore 2: You'll need to mix it with the saliva of the person you wish to be attracted to."

"Or persons," Harry said.

"Or persons," Pomfrey said. Speaking about the potion seemed to be what she needed to regain her good temper. "Why are you fighting, Potter?"

Harry stared at her, remembering that he was not supposed to remember what happened this summer. So, instead, he said, "I woke up one morning with a wife I didn't remember bonding or marrying, and was told I had to bond with another girl who hates the first one. We didn't ask to be bonded, the Sabbat made us. I didn't want to bond at all. I just wanted to go to school. And just now a prefect hit me, docked me points, and said I wasn't going to make it through the year, and the one person who's supposed to actually help me just sent me to detention with a racist sadist who was one of the people in the Sabbat demanding I and both my wives be murdered. Why in the bloody hell do you think I need the damned potions?"

He didn't mean to go on so long, but by the time he was done he was almost yelling. At her startled expression, he took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to say, "Thank you, Madam," before he turned to leave.

"Potter!"

Harry stopped at the door.

"I rescind the detentions," Pomfrey said. "I spoke rashly without a full understanding of the situation. Go to your wives, now. Come back tomorrow for another dose—usually five doses are enough."

"Thank you, ma'am."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

"I couldn't help but notice Luna wasn't on the couch this morning," Neville said softly as the two boys walked out of another DADA class spent reading from the text book.

Harry's face turned bright red as they moved on to Transfiguration, being a Thursday. "Yeah, the potions worked, I guess."

Neville raised one brow. "Let me know, Harry. I'm probably going to be bonded to Susan before the end of next year, so it'll be good to know how having two girls works. I'm still not sure how to handle having just one."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, fully aware that Ron and Seamus were both listening, as were the other boys in their class. "Let's just say they didn't fight as much. Actually made us act a little pissed, to be honest."

"Whatever works," Neville said.

While the new and 'improved' Defence Against the Dark Arts was truly an excruciating class, at least it was their first one, meaning they were able to get it out of the way first thing before moving on to the rest of the day. The rest of the classes were much like they were during Harry's first day back—nervous teachers trying to control their obvious discomfort with the equally obvious charms listening to their every word.

Finally the day wound down with Divination in the afternoon before his study period. It still seemed odd to see Trelawney in a respectable teacher's robe and sober, but her tower was as laced with charms as the others.

They were working with crystal balls again that day, and just like last year he partnered with Justine. Unlike last year, though, the Hufflepuff did not blush or giggle when she partnered with Harry. In fact, she had lost so much weight, that she looked skeletal. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her hair looked as if she was not properly caring for it any more.

Unthinkingly, Harry took the other girl's hand. "Are you alright?"

She tried to smile at him, but it just came out looking like a grimace. "Getting by, I suppose."

"Hermione told me what happened." Leaning forward, he whispered, "We are here for you, Justine. All of us. You can come by our rooms anytime."

They settled down for their session—Trelawney did not burn any marijuana, not because Umbridge might take offence at her using drugs with her students, but rather because it was "Muggle" contraband. And so they listened instead to truly awful, whining Middle Eastern music that made Harry's head hurt even without the benefit of watching Umbridge dropping Veritaserum in Hermione's tea, and when that didn't work forcing her to write lines with a blood quill, and holy Merlin above this is a vision.

Harry came out of it abruptly, feeling the familiar spike of pain and moisture on his lip from his blooded nose. It seemed to have been forever since his last vision, and he'd fallen out of the habit of carrying his potions kit.

"Harry, do you need help?" Justine asked.

The other girls in the class looked up curiously, obviously remembering the many visions Harry had over the year. Once girl in particular was smirking—Gregoria Goyle pushed herself into a sitting position and watched him with dark, angry eyes.

Trelawney knelt down beside him. "All right, Potter. On your feet." She handed him a kerchief which he used to wipe away the blood. "Do you have your potions kit?"

"Forgot it in my trunk," Harry admitted.

"Right," Trelawney said. "Finch, take him to the Hospital Wing. He's done for the day, I think. Don't forget your bags. Oh, and Potter? I overheard about your marital issues. The Headmaster, aside from being a master of transfiguration, is one of the few alchemists still alive in Britain. He created quite the interesting potion that might be perfect for your situation. Madam Pomfrey knows about it, make sure to ask."

Harry nodded as Justine took his hand and led him out of the Divination Tower. "What was that about?" she whispered.

Harry looked up and saw listening charms all around them. "Luna and Hermione don't get along very well, so we've tried a few love potions to make it better."

Justine looked confused; she knew this already from her long talks with Hermione. But when she saw his eyes travelling up over the walls, she understood something else Hermione had said: They're listening.

So the two walked to the Hospital Wing, where they were greeted by a cool, but not openly hostile Madame Pomfrey. "Come for your next potions…Mr Potter, were you bleeding?"

"Vision," Harry replied shortly.

"I see." Pomfrey started to turn when he reached out and touched her hand, sending a pulse of magic through her that caused the older witch to turn and stare.

"Professor Trelawney mentioned a special potion that Headmaster Dumbledore had developed," he said, staring her in the eye. "She said it was perfect for my situation."

Oddly, Pomfrey paled and looked around the Hospital Wing. Her new replacement intern was in the far corner fluffing pillows—fortunately she had no other patients. "Very well," she said at last. She turned and walked away while Harry collapsed on the edge of one of the beds. Justine hovered by his side silently.

Finally the matron returned with a small wooden box of phials. She opened the box and Harry recognized the pain potion, and took it without hesitation when she offered it. He also recognized three doses of love potions, but also several other phials that contained what looked like a light blue potion, similar to the Ordering potion they took First Year.

"These potions last approximately a week," Pomfrey said, holding up the blue phial. "I'm afraid it will play havoc with your Occlumency for the first day or so, but after that things should return to normal. It should have the desired result."

"Thank you, Madam."

She nodded, and then with an arched brow to Justine, said, "And did the potions help last night?"

Blushing furiously, Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am, thank you."

"Very good; now, off with you."

Harry slipped the box of potions into the wide pocket of his robe, already feeling some relief from the pain. "When can we talk?" Justine whispered.

Harry shook his head until they reached the married quarters. Though Justine was not married, before curfew she and other guests were allowed in, and she didn't get any odd looks as he led her into their suite. In fact, Susan Bones was already in their mini-commons with Hannah and Neville, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Harry looked over the walls but did not see any listening charms "Okay, I think we're clear," Harry said.

"Luna cleaned another set of new charms out," Hannah said. "She seemed a lot happier today."

"Where is she?"

"Library. This is her GCSE year," Susan said. "What's up with you, Potter? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"No, I saw Umbridge feeding Hermione Veritaserum and then torturing her," Harry said.

That immediately got their attention as he came and sat down on the couch, removing the wooden box of potions. He removed one of the blue phials, studying it. "Sybil said this was exactly what we needed. It's blue, so…"

"Erm, Harry, it's clear like water," Justine said.

Harry shook his head. "The magic is blue, like the Ordering Potion. Is there something that can block Veritaserum?"

Susan shook her head, but stopped and said, "You know, I think mum mentioned something once—that someone was secretly working on it. Do you think…?"

"Sybil said this was Dumbledore's formula," Harry said. "Something he made as an alchemist."

Just then the door opened and a furious Hermione walked in growling and throwing her bag down. "That horrid, disgusting…cow!" Hermione shouted. Behind her, Luna Lovegood drifted in meekly.

"What happened?" Justine asked.

Harry, though, knew. "You got detention with Umbridge, didn't you?"

"Yes!" Hermione said without missing a beat. "I just asked when we were going to have the practicals and the stupid witch had the temerity to say we didn't need practicals. But we do, practicals account for more than half the grade in the OWLS!"

Susan and Hannah both sucked in worried breaths and stared from her to Harry. Harry nodded grimly. "Hermione, she's going to dose you with Veritaserum and then torture you with a blood quill tonight."

Hermione blanched the colour of bone. "What?"

"I had a vision in class a few minutes ago," Harry said. He took one of the blue phials and handed it to her. "If Umbridge finds out that Luna and I have our memories, we're dead. I think this potion will protect you, though."

Hermione stared at it distrustfully. "What does it do?"

"No idea, but Sybil said it was perfect for what we need, it was in the Hospital Wing, and Dumbledore himself created it. I can tell you from the magic that it's not poisonous."

"It rather reminds me of the Ordering Potion," Luna said helpfully. "It's a lovely shade of cerulean."

Harry blinked. "It's blue."

"I'm sure that's what I said."

Hermione blew a strand of her hair out, and said, "How long does it last?"

"A week," Justine said. "I mean, that's what Madam Pomfrey said."

"If she's digging for information," Hermione said, "everyone in this room is at risk, and so are Fred and Angelina."

"I think that's why Pomfrey gave us so many doses," Harry guesses. He walked back and started handing them out, saving one for himself. By the time Neville, Fred, Angelina, Georgina and Lee showed up, they had just enough phials for everyone in their circle.

"How'd Dumbledore know how much to make?" Hermione asked as she swallowed, what to her, was a tasteless, colourless potion.

"He has a confirmed, licensed seer on his staff," Harry said with a shrug. "That and the man's bloody brilliant. It stands to reason that Umbridge would be here as much to get us as to make his life miserable—she didn't even show up until after they knew I was coming back. Let's just hope it works."

"Let's hope," Hermione said fervently. "I have detention with that cow right after dinner."

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Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.