Chapter 82 - Life is Change
Sandra looked at her inbox in a little shock.
This wasn't what she had expected after university at all but she wasn't complaining. Instead of trying and failing on her own to make it in the field of electrical engineering, Sandra had worked with Harry to create her own consulting firm. Jobs were scarce in the field for someone without experience despite the current economic climate, well, any jobs that would not terminally bore anyone with a brain. The Alliance's contacts had done the rest, getting her her first contracts which she completed at cost and ahead of schedule, putting in every effort she could to build a good reputation.
Harry's support hadn't stopped there. He had not only fronted her the money to get started, he had clones working as her assistants as did a number of the Jewels with relevant skills. Sandra had tearfully promised every pound she got would go to paying them back for their hard work, just as soon as she had any to pay them.
And this was one of the results, she knew, seeing an offer from British Telecom to have Middleton Engineering examine what was wrong with their new cellular network in southern Wales. The towers there had experienced unexplained power and connectivity issues causing outages in their coverage just weeks after a strong advertising campaign in the region claiming how wonderful said coverage was. It was, in short, a disaster in the making for the particular division of the company and they had already spent millions trying to solve it. She wasn't sure how they chose a firm like hers but she wasn't going to let anyone down.
This was her big chance to make it in her profession and she was going to take it! She could barely stay in her seat, she was so excited.
"Harry? I'm going to be working late tonight and, I think, every night for the next month!"
Harry's clone walked in, smiling at her excitement.
Rather than waste time explaining, Sandra turned the monitor so he could see for himself.
"This is great! I'll get started drawing up an acceptance letter for you to sign and working on the contract they've sent." Harry gave her a big smile, sharing her happiness.
"Thanks, honey. I'll check who we've got available and if anyone has heard any extra details." Sandra replied then wrapped her arms around Harry who was kissing her before pushing him away. "Business before pleasure, Harry." She couldn't help the grin, however, both at the opportunity and his exuberance.
She called up the spreadsheet on their current jobs, recalling which ones had penalty clauses attached and how far along they were, as she worked to rearrange the company's schedule so they could take on this big client. And whatever else, she promised herself that she would go as part of their work team. That was what she really enjoyed rather than management, after all, and she was one of their best. She knew they would have access to methods no other company did so there was no excuse in her mind for not solving the problem. She would succeed here, just as she completed every other professional challenge she had faced.
Harry looked at her one last time before getting started, calling in Hermione and Lisa so they could go over it with him. They had to do this right, after all.
Across London in Whitehall, Harry and Junius Jones, a senior enchanter for the Foundation, were answering pointed questions. It had been mentioned seemingly by accident during one of the multitude of meetings between the regular and magical governments that the Ministry of Magic had protection against people teleporting in. This hadn't been a concern for the regular government partly because few wizards or witches even knew who the Prime Minister was at any one time much less cared to drop in unannounced. The bigger reason was that the various Ministers had never seen fit to mention that they could bypass the external security on any building that didn't have their own types of defences.
That bait had been taken well and truly and a series of lectures had been the result along with appointments to get Downing Street covered by the basic wards against Portkeys and Apparition that already protected magical homes around the world. Red tape had slowed down that side of things to the displeasure of all involved, especially the guards. They were now fervent supporters of getting something that could stop hostiles jumping in behind them after a demonstration by ex-Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt got past them and 'killed' the PM. Shacklebolt had cheated, only able to Apparate into the building because he'd had a tour of the place, but that was no reassurance for the men charged with protecting the Prime Minister. That was why they had breathed a collective sigh of relief when the wards were completed in the week preceding the victory at Malfoy Manor.
Other governmental buildings were also slated for the defensive upgrades but the Ministry of Defence had seen the possibilities in the use of magic to help them do their jobs better. That morning, the real Harry had to go along as both employer and minder for the older wizard who was going to demonstrate his best (and only) invention, a ring he had enchanted to cast a Disillusionment Charm when twisted around the wearer's finger. It required recharging by a wizard or storage in a warded area and only held six charges. These drawbacks were more than offset by the ability to make the wearer invisible for hours at a time as long as they kept their movements slow enough.
As Harry watched their audience eating up every word from the man beside him, he knew the problem would not be in getting the MoD to buy these rings but in producing enough to meet the demand.
"What about countermeasures?"
Junius Jones stuttered to a halt in extolling the virtues of his invention and looked at his boss for help. Harry stepped forward to get the audience's attention.
"The magic can be defeated in a few ways. The first is to startle the wearer enough that they break the spell entirely. Even if that fails, the user can usually be spotted as they move if the observer notices a shimmering effect, another reason why you should move slowly with these on. Next, there are wards that can be put up to cancel the effect entirely. Lastly, non-magical means that don't rely on visible light remain fully effective, such as guard dogs, tripwires and pressure plates. Speaking of wards, our warders are still waiting on clearance to add those to the list of protections on Downing Street, Buckingham Palace and wherever else they're hired to work."
"Bloody red tape." Harry heard someone in the audience mutter savagely.
"We're also waiting to hear back about the offer to station magical guards alongside your own people to counter any magical threats directly." Harry paused, gauging their mood. "I understand there are certain issues with that from various quarters, and I can sympathise, but these people are willing to take a bullet or a spell for you. It's up to you if you accept them or not."
"What about other threats? We've been hearing about something called a Killing Curse." That same member of the audience spoke up.
Harry wanted to curse whatever idiot had mentioned it. "It is just what it sounds like. The caster points the wand at the target, says the full six syllable incantation and at the end of that process, a jet of green magic rushes outward in a line at whatever they pointed at. If you're quick enough, you can dodge it or just get something in the way. If it hits you, you fall down dead without a mark. If it hits something else like a wall, it causes a small explosion, no larger than a fragmentation grenade for comparison. The best defence is getting out of its way. If you're looking to show off, throw a rock in its path. Or just shoot the caster."
"Why do the wizards fear it so much then?"
"I think it has a lot to do with the way that magic won't stop it directly. Magical shields such as Protego will stop many physical or magical attacks but don't even slow down the Killing Curse. It's proof that your magic won't save you from everything and that's the one thing that wizards and witches have had which sets themselves apart from anyone without magic. Modern handguns are a greater threat with better speed, rate of fire and penetration of cover."
While the pureblooded Junius Jones looked annoyed at Harry's explanation, he wasn't going to contradict his boss at such an important meeting. Even then, Harry Potter was the Man Who Won so if anyone knew how to defeat such Dark Magic, it was obviously him. He didn't like hearing that wizards weren't as superior as he'd always heard as a wizard raised in the Wizarding World. On second thought, he supposed that death and destruction weren't talents that a good wizard should aspire to having over his Muggle neighbours.
While Junius got over his injured pride, Harry had fielded a couple of other questions and the inventor hurriedly paid attention again. He only hoped that no one had noticed his lapse.
"How many of these can you make?" Junius didn't recognise the speaker but he was wearing a suit, not one of those ones with all the badges on their chest. He did recognise the eagerness in the Muggle's tone and even he knew what that meant for the chance of making a sale.
"Twenty-five in a week." Junius answered proudly. He felt he had cause to be proud. Why, at that rate, he could equip over a thousand wizards in a single year!
"Is that all?" The disappointment in the Muggle's voice cut through his pride. "It will take forever to fill out orders at that rate."
Jones was crestfallen and had to bite back on some choice curses as his anger surged in response.
Harry smoothly took over again, averting disaster. "I believe Mr Jones was answering how many could be made by him personally, sir. I am sure we can come to some arrangement where he will pass on his valuable knowledge to others, allowing the LPF to offer more for sale to responsible parties."
Jones perked up at this great news. He knew the Foundation would have to carry through with the offer if Harry Potter was guaranteeing it publicly like this. Suddenly, he was far more eager to make the sale. Before this point, he had come along mostly because he was ordered to do so but here he remembered that the Foundation had introduced something called an intellectual property rights policy to the Wizarding World.
While discoveries and inventions made by LPF employees while working were the property of the LPF, completely independent work like Jones' was not. Regardless, the Foundation routinely secured the rights to all of them, offering a share of the profits on top of a basic bonus to encourage invention. The few really profitable inventions, like this one ought to be, more than paid for the whole program. Jones had been worried when his invention had not been made part of that. Now, he thought he knew why. Harry Potter wanted to make the announcement personally which was a real feather in his cap, as the Muggles would say.
For employees like Jones, the LPF doing the work was far better than having to market things himself, especially when it came to the Muggle world. Like all the employees of the LPF, he was far more comfortable moving and living in that world than even five years before. That did not mean he had the time, the interest or the connections to set up his own business.
He returned his attention to the meeting, finding his young boss had turned his powerful charisma on the Muggles, each two or three times his age, and had them eating out of the palm of his hand. Even a novice like himself could now spot that this meeting was going exactly where the Foundation intended. The Muggles would accept more magic into their lives without injuring their pride. To his shock, he realised that had also started in reverse when Harry Potter created the Foundation, bringing Muggle ways into the Wizarding World.
The old Muggle that the others deferred to, some Permanent Secretary or what have you, gave Harry Potter a nod and left the room while the others continued to discuss Jones' invention in glowing terms. His boss gave him a brief but genuine smile and a pat on the back before returning all of his attention to business.
Jones hadn't felt this proud of himself since his eldest was born. That long ago moment eclipsed this new triumph but only just.
Ella Fletcher felt subtly off as she stood with her mother outside the university. Her results had come in, surprising her parents with just how well Ella had done in her final exams. Their arrival had been like throwing a switch. Instead of them worrying for her, afraid she wouldn't get the marks needed for the engineering course she had been pursuing for years, they had pressured her into changing her application for something 'better'. However, Ella didn't want to be a doctor or lawyer, even if she had made the higher cut-off for those courses. Her ambition was to make her mark on the world in a more physical sense, to create the plans for new cities, new ways of living.
None of that was why she was feeling off-balance. It was down to the other thing her parents had insisted on for her first look around the university where she would study engineering. She didn't mind having her Mum along, not really, but she did miss having Harry with her.
"Don't sigh, dear."
And it seemed that she wasn't doing a good job of hiding it, either. Not that she was trying that hard, she admitted in her thoughts. She felt vulnerable without Harry or a single one of the Jewels around, or any of her other friends. Although she was surrounded by people, students and parents and even the odd member of staff, she felt alone. She took another deep breath.
"Okay, let's go." Ella could always bring them next time. She would bring them next time. With that thought putting a smile on her face, she sped up, pulling her mother towards the campus and looking around for the engineering department.
This was going to be great! She just knew it. Best of all, she didn't have to worry about the other girls' resentment. All of the Jewels were keeping up with their education, meeting and exceeding the requirements of their families and their own expectations. Between their shadow clones to give more time for everything and their own hard work, and the support network of their families and friends, it was both easy and rewarding.
Looked at in that light, Ella knew things would only continue to get better for her.
"Ollie!"
The former Gryffindor stood up and shook his friend's hand gratefully when he arrived at the table in the sunshine. "Cedric, thanks for coming. I've been at my wit's end about this!"
Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere United, looked like it, too, in Cedric Diggory's opinion. He clearly had not been sleeping well lately and his robes were crumpled like he had been sleeping in them. Proper wizarding robes had been getting less common over the last year as Muggleborns and those raised half-and-half had taken up more Muggle fashions instead. That was something that Cedric honestly preferred when looking at the eye candy in summer, though he was grateful that certain witches, like his neighbour Mrs Weasley, continued the traditions. In Wood's case, though, it looked more like he had other things on his mind than fashion.
"So what is this emergency you were going on about?"
"Shhh!" Ollie hastily cast a few privacy charms around them as they sat in the outdoors section of Florean's ice cream shop. He looked all around him before he leaned forward and whispered urgently. "It's a matter of life and death!"
"What? Then why are you coming to me? Shouldn't you take that to the Aurors? Well, to the Lifeguards, now, I suppose." Diggory asked, confused and more than a little concerned for his friend.
"That's just it!" Wood blurted.
"What is?" Diggory demanded.
"The Lifeguards! Well, not them, exactly." Wood mumbled the last word.
"Why not?" Diggory was starting to wonder if his friend had gotten into a weird batch of potions.
"They're part of this! Well, part of the Potter Alliance." There was a manic edge growing in Wood's voice.
"Actually, they work for the Foundation." Diggory offered in a spirit of fairness.
"Exactly!" Wood pounced on that. "Exactly!"
"And why is that the problem?" Cedric asked. "You're not telling me you're a secret Death Eater, are you?" He added with a laugh.
"What? No! I'm making more money!"
"You're making less sense than Fred and George, Ollie!" Diggory snapped out. "Explain what is going on. Start at the beginning, for Merlin's sake!"
Wood paused and took a deep breath. "It's about Quidditch."
Cedric tried hard not to roll his eyes. 'What else would it bloody be with you!' "Of course it is. Go on." Luckily, Cedric's exasperation went past Ollie without notice.
"I went to collect my pay after the last match. We'd beaten the Harpies in the Seeker duel which gave us enough to catch up after..." Ollie trailed off, seeing the impatient look in Cedric's eyes. "Well, I collected my pay. There was even a little extra in it. I didn't think much of it at the time, just figured that it was a tip for how well I did. I saved this really tricky shot on goal and, ok, anyway, I didn't give it much thought. I went out for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, got my usual and went home. A couple of nights ago, when I went to bed, it came back to me. Where did that extra money come from? I decided to ask around. None of my teammates had any answers-"
Cedric half-suspected that they did but didn't want to deal with a manic Oliver Wood. If only he could be so lucky!
"-and then I asked the manager. He told me that everyone had got a pay increase thanks to the new owners!"
"The new owners?" Cedric asked as he was expected to.
"The Foundation!" Wood replied triumphantly.
Cedric nodded. "So why is that a problem? The club has new owners and everyone else seems happy with the change from what you were saying."
"But they're new! They don't know how the game works, not like the old owners." Ollie looked like he was about to tear at his hair.
"Weren't you complaining to me just the other week that the owners were out of touch and hadn't kept up with the changes to the game? How they were, what was it, how they were so old-fashioned that they were out of date when Dumbledore was a boy?" Diggory asked sarcastically.
"Well, yes, but that's different!"
"Besides, aren't there bigger things to worry about?" Cedric asked, then immediately cursed his loose tongue.
"Bigger than Quidditch?!" Ollie protested outraged.
"Perish the thought." Cedric muttered, hoping to let his slip of the tongue go unnoticed.
"Too bloody right!" Ollie said, agreeing with himself. "And it's not just Puddlemere! All the clubs have new owners, well, a new owner!"
"Have they interfered with any of the clubs?" Despite not being as fanatical about the game as Ollie, Cedric was still a devoted fan.
"No, well, not yet, but it's only a matter of time!"
"So they haven't done anything except give you more money? Then why are you so worried?" 'Because you're a nut about Quidditch?' Cedric's inner cynic piped up.
"... I've heard rumours." Ollie admitted in a quieter voice.
"What kind of rumours?"
"That the Man Who Conquered hates Quidditch and wants to ban it!" Ollie hissed.
Cedric blinked. "What? Hang on, you think that Harry Potter, Hufflepuff's star Chaser for the last five years, wants to ban Quidditch?!"
"That's not the only rumour." Ollie defended. "Others say that he hates Seekers and wants to see them removed from the game."
"That one I could sort of believe." Cedric admitted. "Though I think he was more annoyed than hating the position, if I remember what he was saying correctly. He thought it was more than a bit silly that a single game could go on for three whole months like that one back in-"
"It was only the once!" Ollie interrupted in protest.
"Yes, that was the record-holder but just this year we had one go on for three days. Thankfully it wasn't either of our teams, what with it bucketing down on the second day, but half the players were knocked out with pneumonia after the match."
Ollie snorted. "They survived, didn't they?"
"Other players have died, you know. Whatever you do, don't get him started on the dangers of the game and having it played by students with poor skills on terrible brooms. It's a recipe for disaster, he says.. and he is right, I think."
"So what does he think he can do about it? He might be the bloody Boy-Who-Lived but-"
"- But he's also the wizard who attacked and defeated the Dark Lord just three weeks ago, Ollie! The Ministry's out of the picture. The Dark supporters are dead or in hiding. Who'd stop him if he tried to fix the game? Besides, don't you think people get bored in the longer matches?"
Ollie looked horrified by the heresy. "Bored?! What do you mean 'bored'! And doesn't he know how dangerous it is to mess with our Quidditch? Don't you remember the riots in 1883 when they changed the rules last time? They nearly killed the Minister of Magic!"
Cedric gave Ollie a look. "Do you really think anyone is going to get close enough to kill Minister Bones? Forget getting past her Aurors or the Lifeguards, they'd have to get past Harry Potter to get to her."
"But, but!"
"And one rumour I heard was that they were going to keep the Seekers but if they hadn't caught the Snitch within two hours, there would be a penalty shoot-out. Each team's Chasers would try to score a goal in turn past the Keeper and whoever scored the most would win the match."
"...really?"
"Yeah, of course, it would make the Keeper more important, too. Any goal he kept out would be a big step closer to his team's victory." Cedric laughed as Ollie clearly went into his own world, picturing his team, his fans, cheering as he blocked a goal and won the game rather than relying on the Seeker to win or lose the game for him.
"Maybe.. I mean, maybe some change isn't a bad thing? If it's the right change, of course." Ollie finally replied in a thoughtful tone.
"Oh, of course, mate." Cedric chuckled. It looked like Ollie was finally over his automatic rejection of change to his sacred sport and was starting to use his brain. That would also make him happier over the new ownership, of course, though the pay raise would do its own bit. Cedric wondered if he would have become so cynical without Harry around, then remembered just how corrupt the old Ministry was. 'I might've become even worse. Thank Merlin for Harry's Foundation or I'd have come to a bad end, stuck in a dead end job with my Dad pressuring me to join the Ministry, my life over before it really began.'
"So what did you mean about other things to worry about?" Ollie asked slyly a minute later, just as Cedric was taking a drink of his coke.
When Cedric finished coughing, he glared at his 'friend'. "You, Mr Wood, have spent entirely too much time with those infernal twins!"
Laughter was his only reply.
Nine thousand, eight hundred and twenty-three Galleons, sixteen Sickles and two Knuts.
Pansy had thought it would feel more reassuring to find out at last how much remained of the family fortune. Even though she had expected there to be more, that was still enough for the average family to live on for decades. She could buy so many things with that money and now it was all hers!
For now. If the Ministry, or worse the Potter Alliance, decided that it wasn't hers, after all, if they declared that her dead family still had to pay for their crimes? They could take it all. There was nothing Pansy could do to stop them and she was sure the damned goblins would only hold out long enough to get a cut of the money.
However, they couldn't take away the money if they couldn't find it. That was why Pansy had withdrawn everything from the family vaults. She wasn't sure where to put it. Nowhere seemed safe enough when Gringott's had failed her but leaving it out in the open on the dinner table was just asking for trouble.
Pansy still needed to get the wards adjusted. In front of her, in stacks of gold, silver and bronze, was both the means to pay for that and the biggest reason to get it done. Finding warders she trusted to do the job without robbing her blind was the problem. The reassurance she had felt after talking with Harry had lasted right up until she had visited the Goblin-run bank. Surrounded by the creatures and by the glares of wizards who only knew her family, she had felt an itch between her shoulderblades where their daggers would go. Instead of only taking enough for her shopping, she had impulsively loaded everything into a bottomless bag and headed home with it all.
Home. That word had such a loaded meaning these days.
Letters had come from Hogwarts, the first reminding her that tuition was due before the new year along with the one detailing the books and supplies she would need. She had wondered why she wasn't more upset that there was no Prefect badge then remembered that Snape wasn't there, hadn't been for over a year. Without him, and Draco, the favoritism in the House had changed. No longer was having Death Eater relatives a ticket to advancement at Hogwarts.
"Just like the rest of Wizarding Britain." Pansy said out loud, breaking the silence.
Her marks were good but she was still only fourth in line for the Prefect position. Potter's wh- ladies somehow managed to stay ahead of her. No matter what she did and no matter how often they accepted his advances, they were consistently quick to master the new spells and complete their homework. Their power had been increasing, too, something she noticed despite their attempts to hide it.
"They are leaving me behind."
The mournful sound of her voice surprised her and she jumped a little then glared at the pile before her. She would deal with her new life one step at a time. Her future was uncertain but it was hers alone to decide. Pansy stood up and set about collecting the money for her tuition, sending it off with the family owl, now hers, and called in the family elf to put the money away in the study.
"...And then make me some lunch!" Pansy finished ordering the little creature before she ran out of breath.
Behind her, her elf smiled, pleased to see some life in her new mistress at last.
Matt Granger sat at the family table, going through a pile of books on Africa, looking up when his wife entered the room. Liz was looking as beautiful as ever and Matt stomped on the irrational urge to criticise her for it.
Just the other day, he had his first solo session with a marriage counselor. Seeing Harry getting his parents back made him think about his own daughters. He knew that if things continued as they were, his own marriage would be over. It had taken seeing people come back from the dead to do it but he would do just about anything to save his family. One of the first things she had pointed out was that he was feeling jealous but the reason for that jealousy had nothing to do with her wearing new clothes. He was jealous of her happiness and that made him feel like a horrible husband.
While he had kept going to work at the dental practice and took up skydiving and rock-climbing, Liz had used their new free time to get closer to their daughters and learn more about the magical world in the process. As much as he loved the adrenaline rush from the dangerous pastimes, and he did, he admitted to the counselor that his wife had made a better choice by working on her relationships with her family. She pointed out to him that it was not too late for him to make that same choice, which he knew he wanted to do but was at a loss to how he could start. She gave him a list of simple things he could try and told him to give it his best, and not to worry too much if he didn't fix it all in one go.
That was what the rest of his life was for. Amazingly, that filled him with hope.
"Come over here, honey." Matt called to her seriously.
Liz was nervous, he saw, though hiding it as she went into his arms, sitting in his lap as he held her close. After a minute, she cleared her throat. "What are all these books for?"
"I realised I made a mistake, Liz." Matt swallowed after making the admission. It had been harder than he had thought but the counselor was right again. He did feel lighter now. "For the last few years, in fact. While you used the clones to spend more time with the kids, I went off like a stupid teenager playing with the new toys that the Clan gave us. And when I saw you turning heads in Harry's clothes, I got jealous, thinking that you were paying him more attention than you were to me."
Liz kept silent, letting him talk. She had waited ages for this, she could wait a little longer to speak.
"But that wasn't what I was really jealous over. It was the way you adjusted easier than I did, making a new life for yourself while I really didn't. You kept trying to invite me into your new life but I was, well, comfortable in my rut. Sure, I griped about the practice but I didn't want to make the effort to change."
Liz smiled, snuggling close. "How does that relate to the books, dear?"
"I realised I want to make something of my life, to make a real difference. We've been given a chance to make our dreams come true and I worked out what one of mine is. I've already got a loving wife and beautiful daughters but..."
"But?"
"But I want to do more. If you want to go with me, I mean."
"Go to Africa? Well, a holiday would do us both good, I think."
"No, well, yes, but I saw a brochure for MSF, Médecins Sans Frontières -"
"- Doctors Without Borders." Liz nodded. "But they want doctors, not dentists."
"I know but the brochure got me thinking. Besides, there are other charities that do. We could travel, see more of the world, while still doing good work for people in need."
"And what about Hermione and Athena?" Liz asked as calmly as she could while her thoughts raced. Worries about the future mixed with a sense of relief that he wasn't leaving her, after all.
"We have shadow clones. We could take a leaf from Harry's book and use clones in one place while we are in another. We wouldn't have to miss a minute of them growing up."
"Does it have to be Africa?"
Matt shook his head quickly. "No. As long as we are working somewhere our skills are needed for something more than bloody sports injuries or stupid kids overeating sweets and neglecting their brushing. Anywhere but here."
Liz sighed. "I'm not sure I could leave in person, not for as long as you're thinking, but!" she added hastily "That doesn't mean it's a bad idea. Nor does it mean we couldn't still live together."
Matt showed that he could be just as intelligent as the rest of his family "Clones?"
"Clones." Liz replied happily.
"We can work that out when we get to it, honey. There are a lot of other details we would need to work out before we have to decide where we live and where our clones live. We could even ask the Clan about setting up commuting between here and wherever it ends up being."
Liz laughed. "That's one heck of a long-distance commute you're dreaming up!"
"Better that than losing you." Matt kissed his wife, forestalling any reply as she relaxed into his arms. When she came up for air, he was grinning up at her.
"I think it's time for bed, you big kid." Liz told him in a smoky voice.
"But it's not even lunchtime! I'm too old for a nap." Matt protested as she got off his lap.
"Who said anything about sleep?" Liz said over her shoulder as she led the way up the stairs, putting an extra sway into her hips.
"What about the girls?" Matt asked, already coming around as his eyes tracked his delightful wife.
"They won't be home until dinner time." Liz told him over her shoulder then shrieked when he picked her up and raced them up to their bedroom.
While their parents were celebrating their marriage, their daughters were sitting in a park with the Delacour sisters, soaking up the sunshine after a morning spent walking through the city and sipping their cool drinks.
"It's the simple pleasures in life that are the best." Fleur announced as she leaned back, her naughty smile hidden under the broad brim of her hat.
"There's some truth to that," Hermione agreed, "like the sun on your face, an ocean view…."
"Or the way our Harry can kiss." Fleur interrupted saucily, watching in the corner of her eyes as the younger girls blushed.
Hermione concealed her sudden look at Fleur by sipping at her drink again. "Or that." Hermione allowed, having a good idea of her sister Jewel's plan and agreeing with it.
"He is very good at a lot of the simple pleasures, no?" Fleur added.
"Oh, I think we can all agree on that, right, girls?" Hermione's tone told them what kinds of pleasures she was implying.
Gabrielle emitted a cute little "Eeep!" while Athena groaned.
"Fuck!" The younger Granger said without any real heat.
"Exactly." Fleur nodded primly.
"You're going to insist on getting every last detail from us, aren't you?" Athena stated, rather than asked.
"You're right, we are." Her sister told her. "Now, spill." The grin that split Hermione's face would have done any predator proud.
Gabrielle moaned, mortified, while the more practical minded Athena sighed and surrendered to the inevitable. "What do you want to know?"
Fleur smiled triumphantly. "We want to know everything."
That evening, Hermione and Athena came home from their day in the city to the sounds of shrieks and laughter filling the house. They followed the sounds to the living room, finding their parents on the couch while their Dad tickled their Mum who was already red in the face.
"Hem hem!" Hermione interrupted them, her first tries at saying hello having been drowned out by their noise.
"Hermione!" Matt bolted upright, revealing a little more Liz than he intended who quickly covered up. "We weren't expecting you until-" He looked at his watch. "Ah."
Athena was laughing. "I can see that!"
"Your father and I were.."
"Fooling around?" Hermione suggested with a grin.
"Something like that." Matt replied to his daughter, looking down.
"Good! It's about time you got over your midlife crisis, Dad." Athena replied full of satisfaction.
"You can't say that!" Hermione gasped, trying not to laugh at their parents' expressions.
"Please, it's been far too long since they had this much fun together. I've missed having Dad join in laughing with us at silly programs on the telly." Athena smiled at her parents.
"What do you say, Matt? Feel like watching a Friends tape tonight?" Liz put in, having got her clothes in order.
Matt took a deep breath to grab a moment to think. His initial reaction had been to tell Athena off for how she spoke to him but then he figured that if this was the worst he got from his daughters for neglecting them, then it was cheap at twice the price. "No, let's put on some Seinfeld videos tonight. Who wants to order some pizza?"
A move was on the cards for other families in Wizarding Britain. In fact, if she had followed her first impulse, Fiorenza Zabini would have left the same day that the news had broken of the Dark Lord's fall. Fortunately, her son Blaise had managed to convince her what a bad idea that had been. While making their escape from the country would have been simple in the chaos of that defeat, their disappearance would have painted a huge target on their backs.
As disastrous as the battle was for the traditionally minded wizards, leaving at that instant would have been terribly suspicious. Short of leaving Europe entirely, there was nowhere they could go where Minister Bones' people would not find her and she had too much to lose to risk the kind of investigation which that blasted woman would launch.
Her fortunes had waned in the last few years as the mudbloods and blood traitors made inroads into the economy, setting up new businesses in competition with their superiors and spreading that damned Potter Alliance's influence. She was still wealthy enough to worry about the Ministry seizing everything she had earned with her choice of previous spouses. Wealthy, easily convinced to change their wills and with pre-existing medical conditions described her first two husbands. After that, she had been invited to leave her native Italy. A careless liaison with some handsome young thing had resulted in her only son, Blaise, who showed his father's features and her brains. A pity he didn't get her beauty but you couldn't get everything.
And she knew that Blaise was opposed to any move to leave the country. He was still young enough to imagine that he could change the world if he were only stubborn enough. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he had some girl he was sweet on. Subtle use of her potion-making skills had put paid to that notion.
Unfortunately, by waiting they had seen the sale price of the family possessions plummet. The Dark families, what few of them had survived, could see the writing on the wall and needed gold urgently whatever their plans. Priceless artifacts that should have commanded a fortune were being sold for barely a Sickle on the Galleon to fund moves out of the country or generous donations to charities like St Mungo's.
"We should wait until the market recovers, Mother." Blaise told her patiently over dinner. "It would be a crime to let the blood traitors buy up our heritage or worse, mudbloods!" He had a gleam in his eyes, thinking his motives were perfectly covered up. He should have remembered who taught him how to read people.
"I know what you really want, Blaise, and I will remind you that I decide what is best for us. We will leave this rotting country and that is the end of it." Fiorenza Zabini declared to her son.
"Very well, Mother. Tell me. Where would we go? What is the plan to restore us to our rightful place?" Blaise tried to keep his voice level and polite. He didn't try very hard.
"You disrespectful brat! Use that expensive education I paid for. The blood traitors control the money and the courts and the news. There will be nothing left for you here and nothing you can do to stop them. However, we can live well elsewhere where the people still recognise the natural order of things."
"And what will we do when they come for us there? Will we run again?" Blaise raised one eyebrow, perfectly albeit unknowingly echoing a Muggle science fiction character, something that would have horrified both mother and son.
Fiorenza sneered at his blindness. "You can't fight the weather, Blaise. Britain is lost to our proud traditions of magic. Other countries have taken a stand against the mudbloods and their blood traitor pets. We will go to one of them."
"Have you even decided which country you want to hide in?" Blaise asked exasperatedly.
"Bulgaria looks good but there are other options." Fiorenza told him with a satisfied smile.
"Bulgaria! I can't speak the language!" Blaise protested. "Why not Italy? At least I can speak Italian."
"You are still young. You will learn." Fiorenza declared uninterestedly. "And you know why I cannot be seen in Italy."
"And if I don't want to go to Bulgaria? Legally, I am an adult!" Blaise had never pushed that hard before but he was too angry about all of the changes in his life to care right then that he was giving his mother an ultimatum.
"Then you will see just how well you can survive without any of my money to save you." Fiorenza told him, fire in her eyes.
Blaise quailed at her threat. He didn't have enough money of his own to fight against the mudbloods and blood traitors. The money he had squirrelled away was barely enough to live on for a while in the style he had been raised. He couldn't even afford to buy any of the cheap businesses. The best he could do without his mother's money was buy a junior position for himself with a more traditional business or take one with the better paying Potter Alliance businesses. Although more financially rewarding, doing so would be to surrender and he would rather starve!
Unfortunately, leaving would also be admitting defeat. Leaving would be to admit he was utterly impotent to fix the biggest problem in his life. Leaving would be the same as giving the girl he wanted to the boy who had wrecked his world.
Time for Blaise to prove who was the better Slytherin, both to his girl and to his mother.
Harry Potter strolled down Diagon Alley with a smile, proud of the changes he could see. While the renovations of the Alley had been started by the shopkeepers from the Potter Alliance, the rest had quickly followed the new fashion in order to stay in business. As he looked around him, he could see the benefits in the sunnier dispositions of patron and proprietor alike.
For a start, while the cobblestones remained, workers had cleaned and straightened them before a team of warders had placed a thin, magical, flat layer over the top. A combination of the old world charm and sensible flooring to prevent injuries preserved the picturesque appeal without sacrificing comfort or convenience for shoppers. This encouraged the use of heels and clothing to show them off, something that his male classmates certainly praised often enough.
It was just one sign that Wizarding Britain was working to use their magic in better ways than unofficial competitions to see who could be the weirdest for weirdness' sake or who had the most power. None of that was why he was there in the first place, however.
Harry opened the door to the most famous shop in Wizarding Britain and blinked, holding the door open a little longer than normal. That was all the physical sign of his surprise he would show to the owner as he made his way inside. Gone was the gloomy and dusty interior. Gone was the spooky demeanour of its owner, replaced by a welcoming smile for customers.
Ollivander greeted him with a grin. "Ah, welcome to my shop, Mr Potter, most welcome. You are precisely on time."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander. Your invitation was unexpected and did not contain much information." He was cautious, naturally, and had not come alone. Hidden under the Potter invisibility cloak was none other than Captain Anderson of the Lifeguards while Squad 1 of the Lifeguards used other means.
Ollivander smiled ruefully. "Ah, my apologies, Mr Potter. I had been expecting you to come to me two years ago, you see. When your wand chose you, holly and phoenix feather, I mentioned that its brother had chosen He Who Must Not Be Named. I am afraid I did not confide in you at that time everything I knew about your new wand. While I expected great things from you, I did not believe the time was right for explaining to such a young wizard things of a delicate nature."
"I understand, Mr Ollivander. I am sure I must have seemed entirely too young to keep an important secret at that time." Harry smiled, thinking how deceptive appearances could be. "However, you have called me in now. Does this mean you have changed your mind?"
Garrick Ollivander offered Harry a seat before taking one for himself. "Indeed, Mr Potter. There are tens of thousands of wands in Britain, Mr Potter, but only a handful of them are brother wands." He paused to make sure Harry understood his point before returning to his lecture. "It is one of the arcane mysteries of my profession. When two wands share a core made from the same animal, they may behave oddly when turned upon each other. Only when they are from the exact same animal, mind you, only then. We wandmakers take care to avoid the matter when we can." Ollivander added as an aside. "Brother wands are entirely unpredictable when forced against one another. No wandmaker has found a reliable method of divining what the effect will be before it occurs. Chaos, just chaos." The old man shuddered before continuing his explanation.
"Beyond their varied and useful magical properties, this is why I use the cores I do. Unicorn hairs are twined with ones from other unicorns in different combinations, dragons only have one heartstring to give and phoenix feathers are notoriously rare. However, when you encountered your wand's brother, I was sure you would shortly pay me a visit for enlightenment about the condition."
"I am sure I would have if I had ever noticed any 'oddities', Mr Ollivander." Harry replied sharply.
"I hope that does not mean you used an inferior wand in your many battles, Mr Potter." The shopkeeper's smile slipped.
"Not so many as all that, sir." Harry replied easily. "And no, I did not use an 'inferior' wand. While I get that you do not like your competitor's work, it has performed well for me, as well as the one I obtained here. However, I must confess that I am at a loss. I never found either of my wands to be a problem facing the Death Eaters or their leader Tom Riddle. What kind of effects were you expecting?" Harry asked cautiously.
Ollivander looked off to the side as he recited from memory. "The most common effect is that the wand will push itself off-target rather than fire at its brother, Mr Potter. In phoenix cores, the effect is far more pronounced. Ancient records speak of a gilded cage falling around the combatants and their wands linked by a beam of light. Bubbles of magic travel from each wand, pushing at the other, searching for weakness in the wizard chosen by the other wand. Should one lose such a duel of wills, that wand will forever submit to the winner."
Harry thought on it a moment, squelching his initial anger. "Most curious indeed, Mr Ollivander. Did you not think to warn me later, sometime between my purchase and the return of Tom Riddle?"
Ollivander smiled at him. "You are still so young, Mr Potter. No, I had not expected He Who Must Not Be Named to return. In truth, I had put the matter out of my mind, noting only to call you in on your reaching your majority and to vouchsafe the information then should you prove to be mature enough to handle it. Later, His return startled me but you had not turned up. I believed I must have been mistaken about the brother wands, led astray by old stories."
"And what were you going to tell Tom Riddle when he came for you?" Harry asked, wanting the old man to stop beating around the bloody bush and get to the point since he obviously had more he wanted to say.
Ollivander grinned, somehow his most spooky expression yet. "I was going to hide, Mr Potter." He smiled at the mild shock on Harry's face. "I am not a master duellist nor am I an Auror. I do not hunt Dark Lords for fun. I am a shopkeeper and I know I could neither beat a Dark Lord nor willingly aid Him. If He was coming for me, I would have ran and preserved my knowledge and my craft from slipping into His hands. I know what you wanted to ask instead. Why did I not call you before now?"
Harry nodded impatiently.
"At first, I was sure you would come to me on your own. Seeking you out would have been a waste of time and effort and I am not a young wizard any longer, Mr Potter. Also, I must confess, I had less noble reasons. After your display at the Weighing of the Wands, I was rather put out with you. My pride did not want to let me unbend enough to help you after you had wounded it so, no matter how my conscience pricked at me." Ollivander sipped at a cup of tea that Harry only now noticed, causing Harry once again to curse how magic could mess with you while his host allowed his confession to sink in.
"You have noticed the changes in my humble little shop, the lighting, the cleanliness, the comfortable seating. All down to you and your allies and your outburst. Wizards and witches wanted a different atmosphere for their shopping for the first time in centuries, Mr Potter, and I was losing sales and respect. It took time for me to admit to myself that I needed to change, too."
Ollivander pressed his wand to an otherwise unremarkable section of the wall behind a counter and the look of the shop returned to what he had seen on his first trip to the Alley. Another push and it reverted to the cleaner look. "Magic is a powerful force, Mr Potter. Pride can be even more powerful but the drive to survive is the most primal one I know. Since I added the enchantments to adapt the shop to expectations, I have regained much of my customer base, both the young ones coming for their first wand and older ones in need of supplies. Those who like the new Muggle fad are happy and those who don't can still trust in Ollivander's. Once I bowed to the inevitable, I simply waited for you to need me. You never did."
Harry nodded, using all his parents' lessons to conceal his anger at the man and pushing it aside in order to confirm something. 'He sold me a defective wand and he has the gall to be upset I used someone else's?!' "I can understand that. And as you described, the brother wand effect would not have been deadly in itself, only in being a surprise?" He made the statement a question., his tone that of someone trying to keep calm.
Ollivander sighed sadly and nodded back contritely.
"Yes, Mr Potter, you are correct. Surprise has killed the better wizard time and again. I should not have risked your life over a petty grievance but we all have our failings. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you now that the danger is passed?" Ollivander was wringing his hands, anguish clearly written on his face.
Whether it was petty of him or not, Harry made Ollivander wait before locking eyes with the older wizard and carefully measuring his reply. "I cannot think of anything at this time, Mr Ollivander, but I will keep your offer in mind. In the end, since the effect never put me in danger, I think I can find a way to put this behind us in time."
"Thank you, Mr Potter. You are most generous. Our world owes you so much already. While my offer still stands, I have prepared this for you to study if you wish. It is a collection of my notes on wandlore, assembled over the course of my vocation. In it, you will also find those old records I mentioned on the brother wand effect. I would prefer if the information within does not get released to the general public, prefer to pass that along to an apprentice of my own some day, but I will not attempt to stop you if that is your choice." Ollivander again reached out with his wand, tapping a shelf. Once he did so, his manner changed with the appearance of a large, leather bound book as the magic hiding it faded away. He passed the book to Harry reverently. "Please, Mr Potter. It is my life's work."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander. I believe I can understand your apprehension and appreciate the gift you are giving me today." Harry was surprised that the other man was going so far. If what he offered contained what he said, it would allow Harry to become a wandmaker himself or train others in the craft, able at a whim to destroy Ollivander's living for all time.
"No, Mr Potter. Thank you. I hope in time I can fully repay my debt to you. It was childish of me to withhold that information, more childish than I had thought you to be. Now, if you will excuse me, I am running late for lunch. I have an outdoor table booked and do not wish to forfeit my place." Ollivander paused and gave the most honest smile of Harry's visit. "Not all of the changes in Diagon Alley are unwelcome, Mr Potter, and fashions can change for the better."
Harry took the opportunity to get out of there, holding the door open so his unseen guard could follow. He found that a friendly Ollivander was almost as creepy as the original encounter had been and he really didn't want to think too much on the older man's final words. Somehow, he got the impression Tsunade-mum should have been there, knocking the perviness out of the wandmaker.
Besides, he had a date of his own starting soon.
Thank you for reading and for your patience in awaiting this chapter! My thanks also go out to my hard-working betas, CloudZen and DaisyDuck, for their good work in improving the chapter and keeping me from getting more distracted.