Chapter 7

Harry was dreading the train journey. They would have to meet the Weasleys again for the first time since he had thrown them out of Grimmauld Place, and doubtless Draco Malfoy and his goons would be around.

On the up side, he now had a working friendship with Neville, who would doubtless enjoy demonstrating to Malfoy how he was with a wand that very much more powerful matched him.

And supportive parents.

And Hermione had muttered about teasing Draco about making him her concubine.

Harry sniggered.

Maybe the train journey might be more amusing than otherwise.

Harry also had an elf-made miniature of Phineas Nigellus Black, so that the former headmaster could spy on Dumbledore. The paintings of the castle, like the ghosts and house elves were supposed to obey the headmaster, but Phineas Nigellus said smugly that his blood oath to his family, 'Family first' as The Black overcame that, especially as Dumbledore had let the castle wards slip so badly. Dobby and Winky had returned to the castle kitchens as they had come voluntarily to Harry, and had not been thrown out by Dumbledore – a strict point of etiquette – to undermine the loyalties of the castle elves by being free of the curse, and to flaunt it. All the food Harry and Hermione had would be overseen by them.

And for the journey they had a care hamper, courtesy of all the elves, including sugar-free sweet treats made by Cor, who had discovered the joys of stevia, but was not responding to any murmurs about 'cholesterol' pointing out that magical children needed high calorie food as learning spell-casting was as physically demanding as being a coal-miner.

Considering how much Ron ate, and still remained skinny, this was a cogent comment, as Ron seemed to need more effort to cast than most.

The confrontation with Malfoy happened on the platform, when he positively flew at Hermione.

"You! You may call yourself pureblood on a loophole, but you were raised a mannerless mudblood!"

"I fail to see, Heir Malfoy, what part of your tirade might be considered to be in any way, shape, or form to be paradigmatic of mannerly," said Hermione. "You have had a very lucky escape."

"What?" the blond idiot asked, rudely, shocked.

"Most people with manners say, 'I beg your pardon?' to make such a query," said Hermione. "However, perhaps you should be grateful that I consider you to be an unmannerly lout. You see, my patron, Lord Black, has examined the concubinage document and had a good laugh before destroying it. You see, as the last magical member of a line holding acknowledged family secrets of use to the wizarding world, I, Lady Dagworth-Granger, could use it to declare you or your father my concubine, since the French branch of the minor house of Malfoy has members, and that moreover, as part Veela, under British law you are subject to creature laws especially as Lord Black has grounds to call for your parents' divorce if you don't have a sibling very soon... I beg your pardon, you said something?"

Draco had given a strangled yelp.

"Don't worry, Malfoy, my betrothed wife doesn't want either of you, but if she'd insisted on Lucy, she would have made you call her 'mummy,'" said Harry.

.Lucius flounced; there was no other way to describe it. Draco retreated.

Harry bowed and Hermione curtseyed to Narcissa.

"Lady Malfoy; Cousin Narcissa," they spoke together.

"Played like Blacks," said Narcissa, with grudging admiration.

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Hermione had, at first, been aghast at the idea of the privacy of family magic, believing that knowledge should be free to all. Sirius had caught her up sharply.

"Anyone not tied by blood to Black magic who tried to immerse themselves in the starry void would probably be sucked out of this world and into the starry void instead of drawing it into themselves. We are tied to certain magics in the same way that you and your father have the frizzy hair of the Dagworth-Grangers, which protects your hair from potion fumes. I imagine that there are techniques of brewing which an acknowledged master like Snape would give his eye-teeth to know ... not that any of his teeth are of any real value ... but which he might not even be able to use, because he does not have the blood. Equally, there are secrets of the Prince family he could use, and you could not. Keeping such knowledge separate increases knowledge in that other similarly endowed families might strive to reproduce similar techniques and come up with something similar but different. The Potters have a way with transfiguration, and Harry comes closest to any rumours I have heard about being able to make a patronus physical, not merely corporeal. And by keeping family magic separate, it means that each family does what it does very well, rather than all magic becoming diluted by being performed in a mediocre way by those not attuned to it – even without considering the dangers of magic rituals which might be unattainable to others. Really, spreading knowledge around is like trying to train every prodigy of mathematics into being Jane Austen, SunTzu, Leonardo da Vinci and Socrates as well, all rolled together. In the Renaissance, the Renaissance man was able to be a polymath, and have knowledge of everything that was known, but to try to know everything nowadays is impossible, however intelligent you are. I wouldn't want a rocket scientist coming to fix my drains, or the plumber build a rocket to the moon."

Hermione giggled.

"And people have different talents," she said. "I think I understand. But what about trading secrets?"

"Ah, now that is possible, with certain rituals and limited blood exchange. It's illegal of course, but it happens."

"Illegal?"

"Blood magic. It's seen as 'dark' and the precious lovies nowadays see 'dark' as 'evil' when in fact it's no such thing. It's merely more... instinctual, blood-oriented, and primal. But the primal nature of it, which can be capricious and feral, is what frightens those who want magic defined within the laws we are taught at school, and which are guidelines. Your father tells me that in muggle schools, what you learn in physics at OWL level is superseded by a closer model at NEWT or 'A' level, and at degree is seen to be so simplified as to almost be a pack of lies. So, too, with magic. You will be told that the patronus is light magic because it deals with positive emotions. It isn't; it is dark magic because it is drawn from emotions. It is feral, capricious, and not able to be cast by everyone. But it is by law 'light' because it is both harmless and indeed helpful."

Hermione was fascinated, and had been studying the Dagworth-Granger Grimoire with deep interest.

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Neville arrived, with his parents, and sneered triumphantly at Malfoy. Draco kept his mouth shut.

Even if he still thought Neville to be a squib, Frank Longbottom assuredly was not.

"Have you heard about the new defence teacher?" asked Neville, as he joined Harry and Hermione.

"No, what have you heard?" asked Harry.

Neville sniggered.

"Well, originally, Fudge thought of his undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge; but there's some suggestion that she was the one who sent dementors against you, and she was all for dumbing down the program, and doing only theory, and Fudge went into a blue funk, now he's got to worry about death eaters and Voldemort. So, as Dad's not well enough to go back to being an auror, my dad volunteered, as long as Mum was teaching wizarding etiquette and law to firsties, which Dumbledore did not like at all, but Dad told him that if he did not agree, the Potter/Longbottom/Black alliance would see him accused of causing divisiveness in not helping muggleborn and muggleraised kids to fit in. It's to be compulsory for anyone muggleborn, and voluntary for anyone else."

"What about your gran?" asked Harry.

"Well, Dad discovered a few compulsions on her, and he had a long, serious talk, and she was badly frightened, and now she's spitting nails over having been manipulated, including into giving me a wand which did not work well. Dad says, the good side of that is that it's strengthened my core, a bit like how easy it is to walk after you've been walking around wrapped in chains."

"Well, that's all good," said Harry.

"What about your uncle?" asked Hermione.

"Facing charges of child endangerment, attempted line theft and sundry other charges," said Neville. "Seems that he has a girlfriend and has a son by her, and she's some distant cousin of mine, living in America. Dad sent the paperwork to MACUSA for them to check out how involved she is."

"Wow," said Harry.

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Predictably, the Weasleys ran onto the platform at the last minute, loud and shrill, and Molly's voice blaring like a foghorn, "And don't forget, if Harry Potter doesn't apologise, then he need not expect any more from me!"

"Dobby," said Harry, softly. Dobby turned up and made a courtly bow.

"My lord?" he said.

Neville gasped.

"So there is a curse on elves! And you broke it?" he cried.

"Yes, and yes," said Harry. "Dobby, do you mind parcelling up every sweater I have ever had from Mrs. Weasley, and getting... oh, five hundred galleons out of the bank for me to give her, so I have nothing from her and have paid her back for staying with her, and being fed by her."

"That's overly generous," said Dobby.

"Make it out as a bill for hotel accommodation at one hundred a week bed and breakfast accommodation for last year, two hundred for repairs to their car, and the rest for sundry sweets and cakes, and ex gratia payment for severance from any obligation."

Dobby nodded and popped away.

And then Ron barged in.

"Harry! Mate, I hope you've got over the snit you were in when I last saw you, and are ready to behave yourself and be friends again, I need someone to beat at chess. What are you doing with Herms and the squib? You don't need them."

"I suggest, if you want to have any semblance of friendship with me, Ronald, that you apologise for your own behaviour, and also stop badmouthing my fiancée and my godbrother," said Harry, coldly.

"Wot?" Ron had trouble connecting what he heard with his brain.

"I told you not to be rude to my betrothed wife and my godbrother," said Harry, still pleasantly. "And to show that you are ready to apologise to me for your behaviour in my house."

Being Ron, he had even more trouble connecting his mouth to his brain.

"Oh, come off it, mate, surely you don't want to marry a horror like Herms?" said Ron. "And I'm a better friend to you than Neville, he can hardly get a lumos..."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, consider yourself under notice for your disrespect," said Harry.

"Harry, may I?" said Neville.

"Knock yourself out," said Harry.

Neville grinned, twitched his new wand, and Ron sailed out of the door, his trunk following, and the door crunched to against Ron's ankle, which was in the way. A bit more wand work, and Ron's ankle was removed by the expedient of throwing the body attached to it further down the corridor, and then the door shut properly.

"That ought to demonstrate that I am not a squib," said Neville.

Harry had his arms around Hermione who was sobbing.

"Mione! Don't take it to heart!" he pleaded.

"No, Harry, it's not that!" snuffled Hermione. "I put up with his continual belittling of me to stay close to you. And now I... I think I won't have to do so ever again."

"But you urged me to accept his rather odd apology last year and take him back," said Harry puzzled.

"I thought you'd resent me if I didn't make a push to help you to reconcile," said Hermione. "I dislike him almost as much as I dislike Malfoy."

"Oh!" said Harry. "Well, now I know, and there's no doubt whatsoever which of you I'd choose."

"I'd hate to see you eating Ronald's face," said Neville.

They all laughed.

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Thanks to TomHR for the idea of Hermione telling Draco what an escape he has had