After Exams (June 24)
"Well," said Hermione, "How do you think you did on your exams?"
"I think I passed everything," said Harry.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Including arithmancy which is the only one I really worried about."
"Hmm," said Hermione, "no wagers on your scores beyond, 'passed'?"
"Not really," said Harry, "I'm guessing E's and O's, but," Harry shrugged.
"Why's Snape staring at us?" said Ron.
"You probably forgot to wash your hands after his practical," said Harry, "and he's hoping to watch you froth at the mouth."
Ron shot him a disgusted look, "I don't forget to wash my hands after potions, I just don't always do it in the lab, in fact I usually do it in the loo after I'm safely out of the dungeons."
Harry glanced at the head table. Snape was still staring at him.
Welcome in if you can be polite.
Nothing.
Harry shrugged and looked away.
"He might have some juicy piece of gossip he wants to share with me," said Harry, "and he's watching for me to do something detention-worthy so that he can share it, or monologue about it, or whatever."
"Like what?"
"Could be anything, Blackmail material on my aunt, or on Sirius for that matter, anything that could help me with them while also helping himself more with me, or … Oh God, I had an inspiration for a cooperative power play I need to offer him. He'll be livid."
"What?" said Hermione, But Harry was already gone.
"So, Hermione, how were your exams?" said Ron.
"They went … smoothly, thank you for asking, Ron," she said.
Ron nodded.
"I'm not sure if I got all O's."
"I'd be very surprised if you didn't," said Ron, "I think I'll get enough E's to not get extra chores."
Hermione smiled, then nodded appreciatively, "what's your secret?"
Ron shrugged, "well listening to you and Harry read out loud while you work on hair was an inspiration," said Ron, "and you being a bit nicer with the Socratic method also helped."
"Those both sound … helpful but unstable crutches to rest a career upon."
Ron shrugged, "I don't need it to last forever, I need it to be better than what was before."
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"A Japanese strategy is to be a tenth of a percent better every day, barring necessary regressions, by the end of a year, that might be thirty percent better."
"You sound like a middle manager already," frowned Hermione.
"What?" said Ron.
"I mean, It's an interesting theory," said Hermione, "Can you follow it?"
Ron shrugged, "wait until you see my results, then subtract how many essays I tried to copy from you this year compared to last year."
Hermione blinked, "Please tell me that you're not just copying from someone different?"
"I'm not," said Ron.
Hermione nodded, "alright," She relaxed, "alright, I'm already proud of you. No matter how much better or worse than E's you're getting, I'm already proud of you."
Ron grinned, then yawned, "I'm thinking about a nap before the final task."
"Starting in the evening," agreed Hermione, "and I noticed that there's no end time specified, a nap sounds like a good idea."
.
"Professor Snape."
"What?"
"If you didn't have to teach potions any more, what would you do?"
Professor Snape stared at him for a long time, "I could make ends meet brewing standard potions all day. My skill is enough greater than that I could in theory make more with the more difficult potions, it might take time to work up to that level, so far as gaining clientele is concerned."
"Is there anything popular that you'd like to try, given access to the consignment inventory of the basilisk that hasn't moved yet?"
Professor Snape arched an eyebrow, "It's a good inspiration, but no, it hasn't sold because its too expensive, not because the best uses are potions too difficult for the average brewer."
Harry shrugged, "I wondered if it were only an operating capital problem."
Professor Snape shook his head, "when the ingredients are too expensive, no one innovates with them to drive the price and marketability up."
"Other than basilisk parts, how much operating capital are you considering?"
"Enough for two people to live on three meals a day until I'm twenty… five? Or so."
Professor Snape swallowed and shook his head, "Enough for you to go into potions manufacture, not enough for me to go into research."
Harry nodded, "That's about what I figured, and I want to go into runes."
Professor Snape shook his head and sneered, "Better than auror, but worse than potions manufacture, what happened to barrister?"
Harry shrugged, "That's also still a possibility."
Professor Snape nodded, "See that it stays there. At least, until most everyone that knows you, bets that you won't die in a runes accident, rather than that you will."
Harry grimaced, "alright, it sounds like now isn't the ideal time for us to negotiate a new contract."
"No, I wouldn't think so," said Professor Snape.
"Do you wear a wand holster?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Would you if I lent you one?"
Professor Snape stared at him, "What?"
"Does this one fit?" Harry held out a piece of dragon hide, obviously from the Hungarian Horn-tail. Much larger than a standard wand holster, Professor Snape examined it, held it up to his arm. It would fit, barely, between his wrist and elbow, it was enough wider than his arm that it was evidently intended for use as a duelling shield. "The straps are mooncalf?"
"I think it's just split cowhide, but I didn't ask for anything specifically. Just 'comfortable enough to wear day and night, except, not in the shower' that's what he picked."
Professor Snape nodded, "why?"
"I can put my mark on it, rendering it invisible," said Harry, "I can lend it to you in such a way that you can borrow my protection when you want it and not when you don't."
"'Your protection' means invisibility?"
Harry shook his head, "A more mentally irritating version of Fidelius, it is symbolic of my protection," said Harry, "It doesn't take very much practice for some people to start noticing it. Noticing it isn't the same as being able to see through it. I'd request that when you wear it, you wear your sleeve over it most of the time, just to keep most people from being exposed unnecessarily. I think I have the straps in the right place that they won't be able to fool themselves into thinking that they can still see your dark mark."
"These straps are removable?" said Professor Snape.
"Um, yes, in case you break one and want it replaced."
Professor Snape shook his head, "What if you make it invisible, I put it on, and place a dark mark on one strap? What then?"
"I have no idea," said Harry, "you want … access to that mark too?"
"Access to it would be convenient," said Professor Snape, "removable access even better, removable appearance of it that cannot be distinguished without sliding your fingers across and feeling strap instead of skin would also be useful, but differently."
"I'd try it on a separate piece of material, that we can burn later," said Harry, "In case the two effects interact in some way other than aesthetic only."
Professor Snape nodded, "and how many of these small explosions I hear about are the result of you seeing a large explosion coming, and overpower a keystone rune to burn out the process before the large explosion can come about?"
Harry shrugged, "That is a useful technique, my main technique though is trying most things out on parchment before I engrave or weave them into anything more substantial."
Professor Snape paused, "you weave."
"It seemed an interesting method to know, also a significantly easier method for some of the techniques than engraving."
"What?"
"Secret passage tapestries," said Harry.
"You're not using them to sneak places you shouldn't?"
"No, I use them to make pet doors for my familiars to visit me and each other."
They stared at each other.
"I should add a shortcut from seventh floor half way between the towers, to somewhere near the kitchens," said Harry, "Ugh, I hate doing projects that big."
Professor Snape kept staring at him.
"For your friend Ronald?" said Professor Snape.
"Him as well," said Harry, "I was thinking for Susan to make it to study group without resenting the rest of us for choosing a tower-convenient location. But Ron going … commuting to his other study group could be an added bonus."
Professor Snape compressed his lips for a moment then turned his attention back to the wand holster, "What if I told you I have a holster I like better, and to mark it instead?"
"Is it dragon hide?"
"I doubt it. If it is, I've just about worn it out."
"Which shouldn't be possible for dragon hide worn against the skin," said Harry.
"Unless I have better control of my magic than you have?"
"Point," said Harry, and shrugged, "is it heavy enough for … no, that only matters if it is dragon hide and resistant to dye. Alright, last question, can you stand to give it to me?"
"I thought we just said—"
"I'll lend it to you, for your use and protection, but the rune will only stay active on my own property."
Professor Snape recoiled.
Harry grimaced, "it's not … No, 'property' is too specific a term, there's a more general class of things …" Harry shrugged, "things to which I have a right to protect, property is easiest to calculate and believe. 'People who currently desire my protection' is also easy enough to concentrate on. 'People currently in my employ' works too but … is less natural either to my state of mind or the rune's intended usage, not sure which."
"We'll try the experiment on your prop first," agreed Professor Snape, and held out the shield holster.
Harry took it and turned it over, etched his rune on the back. Took a deep breath, activated it, and waited for the drag of magic to stop.
"What's the problem?" said Professor Snape.
"There are advantages and disadvantages inherent in putting a parasitic rune in dragon hide, luckily this is lots fresher than the last time I tried it. Needs less but demands it faster."
"The rhetoric about it being your protection, not just a bit of magical protection is real then?"
"Yes," said Harry. The magic drain stopped and Harry stood straight again. He said and meant the words necessary to let Professor Snape duck inside the protection already attached to the holster. A lend intended for 'as often as he needed or wanted.'
"If you want help getting it on while it's invisible, I'm used to that."
Professor Snape shook his head, "I'm used to dealing with my disillusioned one."
"You might find it difficult to remember this one, some of the time," said Harry.
"That sounds like a dangerous place to keep my wand," said Professor Snape.
"Holsters that hide wands are illegal," said Harry, "It's technically not enchanted to keep a wand from being summoned, but dragon-hide has a way of disrupting spells near it, so there are aurors who will make assumptions."
Professor Snape nodded, "you parrot the legal disclaimers of your leather smith friends very well, but what I'm hearing is I should use it for my secondary wand, not my primary."
Harry shrugged, "Do what you think best, I won't try to teach you defence."
"Is there a formula you could say to make this visible to me all the time, and easier to remember?"
"Yes," said Harry, "but my friends say it is useful to use the visibility or not of the holster to be certain whether they're inside the protection of the rune, or not."
Professor Snape nodded.
"And you'll find, that it's significantly more likely that you'll be permitted to see other things under my protection while under my protection, which is a different effect, than getting used to noticing the void left when the rune hides something from your awareness and your brain strains to fill in the gaps."
"Right… not as good as Fidelius."
"Sadly," agreed Harry.
"You might try learning to cast the Fidelius, in case having ready access to the arithmancy makes the way you instruct your magic to fulfil your intent about the rune, into something more subtle."
Harry nodded, "it would be worth the experiment, but it is a somewhat emotional intent activation, not sure if the arithmancy could mesh."
Severus frowned, "what colour alignment are the emotions?"
Harry shrugged.
"'Mine,' is kind of dark."
"But 'Mine to protect,' is red," said Harry, "and 'judging who is licensed to know' is rather blue," said Harry.
"I never figured you for a blue mage."
"I don't think I am," said Harry, "just, staying sane while two familiars bicker in my head gives me a lot of practice."
"Ah," said the Professor, "yes, that could be good motivation."
He held the holster close but made no move to put it on. He did however clutch it tighter then give a start and stare at it. Then a nod.
He relaxed and focused and relaxed several more times.
Sometimes Harry felt the ripples as his magic was drawn on, sometimes … Professor Snape must have shrugged off the protection again fast enough that it didn't even affect the buffer of magic that the dragon hide held in reserve.
"So how many friends do you have now who can run around the castle invisibly?"
Harry shrugged, then counted, you and bella, two ex-death eaters, two Patil's, two step-daughters, two step-sisters, "eight, if you include non-students."
"Vector?"
"No, Bella."
"Right," said Professor Snape, "She's not getting up to anything … questionable is she?"
"I usually know what she's doing before she does it. Like … she was just guarding the defence professor's office while he was at Lunch, but he's back so she's headed this way." Harry shrugged, "She does get crazy whims now and then, but Hermione and Neville help me keep an eye on her."
Professor Snape narrowed his eyes, "Neville knows about her?"
Harry nodded, "He inherits custody if I should die. She retains the right to suicide if serving Longbottom proves untenable."
Professor Snape frowned, "the clauses of a slave contract you choose to highlight, are so refreshingly odd."
Harry shrugged.
"And goody-two-shoes Granger, aware of an escaped convict?"
"My second in the investigation of Bella's plea for mercy," said Harry, "so she needed to be, and is well aware of what thralls and criminal custody agreements are. She is … torn over … several aspects of the ethics, but she can read the law as well as anyone her age, better than most."
"Likely," said Professor Snape.
After a few moments' silence, he continued, "Thank you for the shield, or the trust of a window into your hidden world, not sure which you meant it as."
"Both," said Harry, "Yes, I heard Headmaster Karkaroff gibbering about his thrall mark darkening, and I can imagine several things it could mean, especially given that there's at least one relic moving around in England."
Professor Snape nodded.
"Also Lion's-Keep is getting to be a big enough house it could stand to have a Head of House, I'm appointing you, if you feel like doing anything with the authority."
"What is Lion's-Keep."
"The unused classroom second nearest the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, was my office and Hermione's lab, now it is also intermittently a place for several orphans and bully victims to hide for the night and offer each other talk therapy, or sometimes after-nightmare snuggle therapy."
"After-nightmare snuggle therapy sounds like a curfew breaking activity."
"Obviously," said Harry.
"Are all these little darlings under your protection?"
"All but Luna have 'when they need,' or 'when they desire' or both clauses baked into their contracts, instead of only an expiration date. And half have accessories rather than being marked directly."
"Eight little scamps running around after curfew, invisibly," said Professor Snape.
"All the core professors may see Luna," said Harry, "Hermione … can see through my rune and activate it even, without having ever asked to wear it, I'm not sure how. And Nim is only intermittently little, and is invisible only when she's big."
"Enough caveats, if I were to raid Lion's-Keep when it were entirely full, how many students would I find?"
"Seven," said Harry.
"How many have you had sex with?"
"Two," said Harry, "leaving out masturbation as sex with myself, and Nim as not a student."
"You've had three partners," said Severus, "one older than me."
Harry shrugged, "I have three partners, one older than you."
Professor Snape frowned, "and are you pressuring any of the rest of them?"
"Three more have hinted that they want me. But haven't asked clearly enough to make me interested in pursuing them. I have said I'll tutor any of them over fourteen, if they really want that. But I'll have one girlfriend at a time."
Professor Snape frowned.
Life keeps trying to call my bluff, but so far, the count remains there.
"Does your godfather know all that?"
"No," said Harry, "maybe a little of it, I didn't see that it was any of his business."
Professor Snape nodded, "If you hadn't told me all that, you know what I would have assumed?"
"Emotionally distant orphan can barely stand to give after-nightmare snuggle therapy, is too stupid to not let himself become responsible for giving it?"
Professor Snape frowned, then looked away, "be that as it may, your father and one of his friends had a different reputation, and they were not so careful to maintain transparency about the distinction between romance fuelled sexual encounters and mere tutoring."
"Am I meant to … intuit that the friend in question is the dog animagus."
Professor Snape's gaze snapped back to Harry.
"Yes."
Harry nodded, "I am a lion, multiple partners doesn't hurt my instinctive ethics, but there's a hard line where … I have to want them in my pride first. So far as I can tell it's separate and distinct from my human romance instincts."
The professor stared at him for a long time. "Hence, offering them all tutoring, but doing your best to protect their feelings by making sure that they know where they stand first."
"Yes."
"Hence the dorm name: Lion's-Keep?"
"Yes, Luna named it, I think."
A single nod.
"Would you like me to raid it tonight to make sure it doesn't happen next year?"
Harry shook his head, "I'd like you to wear your shield openly next welcoming feast, so that I know you haven't forgotten its existence, and are prepared to track us down there if any of us are reported missing."
"Ah," said Professor Snape, "If you see me without it on that occasion, track me down and remind me."
"Yes, sir."
The professor narrowed his eyes.
"Sorry: Yes, professor."
"Better, get out of here, I've got slytherin alumni to greet."
"Yes, Professor, thank you for your time."
.
"'Airree, come meet my paireents," sang out Fleur as he crossed the gallery by the main staircase.
Harry turned and went to her. She came to meet him with her hand out. The moment her hand touched his, she seemed to morph from human to human, or something. Her parents and sister gave a very evident start very shortly after, so whatever that was must have been real.
What was that? I know shaking hands with people isn't unusual for her.
No, totally dropping her allure is unusual for her. Usually it's the other part veela that drop their allure when she glares at them.
So she's … showing me deference as if I'm a veela?
As if you are a significantly higher ranking veela, I think.
Not subtle at all?
Not subtle at all.
Interesting.
She led him back toward her family and presented and introduced him with evident formality but undisguised enthusiasm, not that he knew the French versions of the forms well enough to guess how well she was mixing manners to make him feel at ease with the English translations of it all.
Her mother's name was Apolline, and Harry couldn't make out her father's name in her rushed introductions, Mr. Delacour might work in a pinch, and Parvati had already told him several times about Gabrielle and how adorably she alternated between mature and childlike. And apparently her version of mature was less cynical than her elder sister tended towards. Her version of childlike seemed nice also.
Apolline thanked him for helping her daughters in the second task, and asked after his health.
Mr. Delacour said something similar.
Harry asked how their travelling had been and what they thought of the spring that finally had arrived.
They were gracious about the 'spring' such as it was, but they'd had a smooth-ish set of portkeys as these things go, and respectful treatment in customs, so that was nice.
I hear Sirius.
Oh, I wasn't expecting him.
That's alright, I was.
Why didn't you tell me?
Because I was only a quarter expecting him, he never promised, and did mention he was on call. He probably has his Auror equipment in his belt pouch.
Oh.
Never mind that, the point is, did you notice how she was deferential to her parents, but introduced them to you first as Lord Potter?
Yes.
Do the same, show deference greeting your godfather, then present him to them, pretending that his status as Lord Black is below theirs as a Diplomat and foreign service operative. The status ladder they are in as public servants has no official comparison to the status ladder that you and Sirius are in as nobles, therefore when in polite company, (basically always except for actual negotiations where countries need to subtly tell each other how strong their position is or whether they are begging a need or merely a want, or just meeting to be polite and answer questions) all the rest of the time, you offer the respect of pretending that the other status ladder is higher than your own. Unless you cannot stand their guts, and want to remind them that their country if it needs to interface with you, ought to send a different diplomat next time. But that can just as easily backfire and convince your own country to send a different diplomat next time.
Understood.
"Did we lose you?" said Fleur.
"I apologise," said Harry, "I was —
Don't say that.
Just trying to verify? And I'm sure I do not know enough French to say introductions properly.
Say this:
Oh, all right.
"I think I heard my godfather's voice, I haven't seen him for months, may I go get him for you?"
"Oh, Of course," said Apolline.
Harry turned toward the door into the next corridor where Harry already knew Sirius would be from Nim's situational-awareness.
"There you are cub, ready to win this thing?"
Harry frowned, and shook his head, and muttered, "Did I not tell you about the fiasco regarding my name coming out of the cup?"
"It's in all the newspapers that you're participating despite your age."
"Someone actually eligible was confunded to enter, thinking that they were me, probably to get me killed or them to lose their magic. But I'm turning the tables on that scheme by giving them hair for polyjuice to keep up the ruse, because they're too embarrassed to admit that they got confunded, Also because they're really excited to finally be picked for a school competition."
Sirius blinked, then raised an eyebrow, "Turn the tables on a murder scheme with a polyjuice prank? I like it."
"And they're nice enough to accept a bit of stage direction here and there to keep up my reputation or the illusion that they are me, whichever."
"Good, good."
"Anyway, I'd like to sit with you, but I'll understand if that doesn't work out."
"Got your cloak handy?"
"Of course."
"Should be fine then."
"Good, now come on, there's some people I want you to meet."
"Certainly, what kind of people?"
"The 'In case they don't bring me back after we let them abduct me' sort of people."
"That doesn't … sound hopeful."
"That's not what your reputation suggests you'd say to me about them."
"What am I supposed to say?"
"Lucky cub, I wish I were in your shoes,' or something like that."
"That remains to be seen."
The introductions went well, Sirius turned mature and sober, without turning stuffy, in a way that Harry had never seen before. And basically just hit it off with the adult Delacours in no time at all. When Harry was sure that it was not going to be an international fiasco he relaxed, and turned his attention to Gabrielle, who was obviously flattered by the attention, but not shy at all, though she also kept deferring to Fleur and subtly redirecting his attention there.
Somehow she even inveigled herself into a tour farther away from the adults so that they could talk and sight see 'unsupervised,' as if Fleur wasn't a legal adult in most of Mage Europe.
Nim, I believe that no one has told her the plan.
I think you're right, I think she can see Fleur likes and admires you, so she's trying to set you up with Fleur.
Is that going to complicate things?
Probably not, probably they aren't telling her because, like you worried earlier, her knowing how her instincts should respond to the stimuli will blunt the effects, or make her act on placebo instead of waiting for the instinct to actually trigger. If she already knows how everything will happen, because the literature is easy to find, but isn't expecting it to happen to her, or with you, it can still happen naturally. Or something.
Then there is at least as much of an element of ambush associated with this as I feared, I hope I get more stage direction than I have already.
I suspect so. I think that until you're given a signal, you can play along with the neutral stance of, not realising you're falling for either of them.
Act my normal oblivious self in other words.
No, act your normal 'attentive' self. Your 'oblivious' self is an intentionally off putting persona you affect to keep your fans at arm's reach.
Oh. Yes, I suppose it is.
Good.
"Fleur, why aren't you being pretty?" asked Gabrielle when they'd stopped at a third floor window to take in the view.
"Harry doesn't like it."
"Is that Trrue, Harrii?"
"I don't care one way or the other," said Harry, "but when she gets too pretty, my cat wants to be carried by Fleur instead of me, and … at first that used to make me jealous."
Fleur laughed. And glanced between them, and laughed again.
"But you like Fleur enough now?"
Harry shrugged, "I suppose …"
Fleur chuckled again.
"It's no laughing matter," said Harry in mock-Draco accents, "she has huge claws, and she doesn't keep them to herself."
"Oh, but may I pet her?" said Gabrielle.
Harry sat down on the floor.
Nim put up with being petted, and then stepped off onto the window sill to be at an even more tempting height, and to better brace for the deep kneading that she actually wanted.
Harry got up and sat on the window sill also, to give a demonstration on what kind of petting Nim liked.
Gabrielle was soon even more engrossed.
Harry looked away trying to hide some of his amusement. Fleur met his gaze, "you alright with that?"
"It's fine," said Harry.
"Are you sure?" said Fleur, "not scared she'll seduce your cat?"
"Oh, she can seduce her all she wants, she can't actually steal her from me."
"That's not what you said before."
"I said trying to steal my cat wasn't neighbourly, I didn't say you had any hope of succeeding."
"You sure about that?"
A dare popped into his mind, and then a schedule that could make it work. Nim didn't mind.
"Do you want to see how long you can keep her attention?"
"What?"
Harry slipped his robes halfway off and unbuckled his shoulder pads, "Here," he said, "Just give these and her back before the third task starts."
"Oh!" she said and settled them over her shoulders, he helped her adjust the pads wide enough.
"You're not as much bigger than me as you were eight months ago," said Harry.
"That's the nature of growing," she said, "older goes first, younger catches up."
"Now what?" said Fleur, "just flirt with her?"
"She'll see the pads and know she has some amount of permission," said Harry, "I'm mildly interested if she'll wait for the permission to be stated clearly, or just come when you become more attractive than where she already is."
"Permission from you to come to me, or permission from me to ride?"
"Either and both."
"Humph," said Fleur, and two seconds later Nim looked up, and Gabrielle also straightened.
"Nim, shoulder," said Fleur.
Nim looked down and around to judge the distance, then back at Fleur, then pointedly at Harry.
"She wants me to say permission or order, or you to say 'please'."
"Saying please feels slightly outside your dare."
"It is," said Harry.
"Get more pretty?" suggested Gabrielle.
Nim's head was dragged back around to Fleur.
"Come, Nim," said Fleur, and held up a beckoning hand.
Nim walked to the edge of the sill, crouched, then came to herself just far enough to take on catloaf pose instead of jumping.
The link to Nim's mind stopped echoing thought, Harry peaked through to check what she was thinking, mostly she wasn't thinking, just basking in the hormones. Nim didn't even glance around at Harry's intrusion, Internally or externally.
"She's gone," said Harry, "You have her undivided attention just not her obedience."
"Catatonic blood loss problem?"
"No," said Harry, "just she can see you fine from where she is and that's enjoyment enough."
"So turn it up more or walk away?"
"Either would probably work," said Harry.
"Prettier first," said Gabrielle.
"I might get feathers if I push much harder."
Gabrielle shrugged.
"I'd like to see that," said Harry.
Fleur turned and stared at him, "What?"
"I kind of liked seeing you with a mix of hair and feathers," said Harry, "is that … is that weird or offensive."
"No," said Fleur, "not precisely," She flinched and stared at Gabrielle.
Gabrielle had a … perhaps half and half mix of hair and feathers. By count, and had her eyes rolled up, as if distracted by … perhaps itching.
"Hmm," said Fleur.
"Try a tenth as many feathers," said Harry.
Gabrielle grunted something irritated and inarticulate, or probably just not in English.
"And skip making feathers under your clothes," said Fleur.
"I know," said Gabrielle, "I'm just out of practice."
Then she had feathers in her hair, rather than feathers instead of hair.
"Nice," agreed Harry.
"Why?" said Gabrielle.
"Enough to be decorative and exotic," said Harry, "instead of enough to be different and possibly threatening."
"Ha!" said Gabrielle turning and jumping a step toward him with all feathers and talons, (though no where near as big as Fleur's had been that one time).
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Not that threatening?" asked Gabrielle.
"I've killed bigger threats without my wand," said Harry.
Gabrielle blinked, then slumped back into human form no feathers at all.
From Fleur's echoing wince, Harry suspected she'd also withdrawn … an unusually large portion of her allure also. Also the bone structure around Fleur's eyes was not normal. Probably a different sort of anger than he'd ever managed to awaken in her before.
"Gabrielle," said Harry.
"What?"
"Where's your wand?"
"Right here," she said, and drew it.
"There," said Harry, "Now you're threatening enough."
"Oh," she said, and changed her grip on it to something more battle ready, and took a half step to put her feet farther apart and a much less flat footed stance. Then relaxed and tucked her wand away.
"You learn duelling at Beauxbatons, right?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Gabrielle, "But we only got up to redcaps this year, maybe baby trolls next year."
Merlin, thought Harry, Maybe that's what they mean about Hogwarts being the safest magic school on the planet.
"Hmm," said Harry, "do you face those alone or in groups."
"Groups of five," said Gabrielle.
Harry nodded, "Yes, I suspect you could be ready for baby trolls by next year, if you keep up with your homework."
"Have you ever fought a baby troll?"
"Not a baby one, no."
"When do they teach you about trolls?"
"Third year," said Harry.
"Groups or alone?" she said.
"We faced boggarts … mostly alone, and several other things, in third year," said Harry, "The time I met a troll, wasn't in class. In fact we were somewhere that we were not allowed to be, and we weren't in a big enough group."
"Oh," said Gabrielle.
"I suggest, that you trust your teachers to decide when you're ready to face them."
Fleur nodded.
"Also," said Harry, "if the troll specific spells they teach you aren't working well enough, levitating a troll's club out of his grasp and then dropping it repeatedly on his head can sometimes be effective."
Gabrielle's eyes widened for two seconds, and then she giggled.
Then she hugged him.
He hugged her back. Fleur gasped very quietly.
Could teaching creative tricks be a love language? Or was that offering useful advice? Giving away secrets? Admitting mistakes?
Master, I think it's both the giving away secret useful advice couched in an adventure story, at the same time as that compliment about expecting she'll be ready to face them in plenty of time.
So … the 'words of affirmation' thing might be more complex than only just compliments.
Yes.
Then he caught sight of a bubble of physical affection from the link and looked up to see Nim on Fleur's shoulders.
"Finally decided you wanted a ride?" said Harry, Or you got Jealous of me hugging the Veela and decided to get some of your own?
Don't say that like you're ever going to give me permission to show her my human form.
Not in the foreseeable future, no.
Nim sneezed.
"I always want a ride," said Gabrielle, oblivious to Nim's change of location.
"Hmm," said Harry, "Front hug? piggy back? shoulder ride? No, shoulder ride doesn't work in robes…"
"The robes are silly," said Gabrielle, "I wore real pants under, this time, I got too cold last time."
"Ah," said Harry.
"Do you want a ride badly enough to deal with taking them off and keeping track of them?"
"Side saddle, shoulder ride?" suggested Fleur.
Gabrielle looked dubious that was a real thing.
Harry figured that she had Nim on one shoulder and could evaluate from memory of how well he could balance her on one shoulder all day, up and down stairs, to whether he could handle Gabrielle's weight off centre like that.
"Maybe?" said Harry, "shall we try that?"
"Oui!" said Gabrielle, "Yes, try that."
"Alright, turn around," he said.
She did, dubiously.
He lifted her and sat her on his left shoulder, where Nim usually rode, she weighed barely half again what Nim weighed. He wasn't sure how that was possible. Birdlike hollow bones probably. Possibly magically reinforced.
He took a step to check his balance, and her feet slid outward and up to grasp the sides of his rib cage, and her hands went back to grip his shoulders.
"Good," he said looking to Fleur, "So … where are we going next?"
"Up!" said Gabrielle.
Fleur glanced outside, then cast the time telling charm, "We can go up one set of stairs, and look out three windows, or we can stay on this floor and go all the way around this part of the castle. After that Harry and I need to go back outside for the tournament."
Gabrielle voiced her disappointment, but still voted for 'up.'
Harry didn't mind, and Fleur didn't seem about to tell him not to tire himself out.
.
"Alright," said Fleur after only two windows, "we need to go back now."
"Yep," said Harry, "Let's go back to your parents and Sirius."
At the stairs Fleur told Gabrielle to get down, so they could walk down faster.
Which Harry thought was odd since it was him who had to do the putting.
But then she said 'No' and held on, and he realised that she was holding on much more securely than he'd anticipated. Apparently also that her feet were far more flexible than he'd imagined.
"Yes," he said, "I don't always do what your sister says, but when I know she's right, I do."
"Humph," said Gabrielle but let him lift her down.
When on the first floor, and within sight of the Delacour parents, Harry said, "you two go on, I need to run and visit the loo, I'll catch up at the pitch."
Fleur sniffed, but went that way.
Harry visited the loo as promised, but after washing up, he donned his father's cloak and returned to Sirius side and held his hand.
Sirius looked around, smirked and looked away as if nothing in particular was happening.
.
In the end they ended up on the back tier between the other parents and the teachers. Something about 'letting McGonagall keep an eye on her favourite student so she wouldn't have conniptions.' Which it took Harry much too long to realise was Sirius idea of being self-depreciating.
.
The contestants started according to points accumulated in previous tasks. From the quidditch stands, they couldn't quite see down between the maze walls far enough to see the contestants directly, but they could see the reflections of wand light as the contestants progressed and shown their wands around, or the sparks as they cast spells.
Harry decided that engineering a way for Professor Vector to carry Nim definitely made the task more interesting, though perhaps a lot less suspenseful than it was for everyone else.
After almost forty five minutes Professor Vector made it to the clearing at the centre where the walls were far enough apart that everyone could see her as she grabbed the cup first.
And vanished.
"And here I was hoping to watch them fight over it on the race back to the entrance," said Sirius.
"So where was it supposed to have taken them?" muttered Harry.
"From the way the judges are looking around, I suspect the winner's stand over there."
"Ah," said Harry, "Nim is reporting they're in a graveyard near where the fiendfyre thing happened."
"Tell them to get out of there, you … each of the champions would command a significant ransom," muttered Sirius, then stood up with a sonorous and started declaring the stadium a crime scene, attempted kidnapping, and for everyone to remain calm and in their seats, except all on call and off duty aurors in the audience, please step forward and prepare to be of assistance.
As soon as he ended his sonorous Harry said, "Anti-dis-apparition wards."
"Damn it," said Sirius, "do they have a broom on them?"
"No, but I do," said Harry.
Sirius turned with a frown, "But you cannot apparate."
"I've got a spider-queen escape portkey."
Sirius nodded, "That would work, get both ready."
By that time Amelia Bones, Professor Moody, and Dumbledore were already barking orders and getting things in order.
"Bones, I know where Harry is, near that forest fire, I'm going after him."
"Do you want a team?"
"I wouldn't mind if a couple teams of hit wizards converged on the area, there will probably be a team of kidnappers or assassins to run down."
"Understood, keep in touch, go."
"Richard?"
"Here," Harry grabbed his elbow and held out his broom already in hover mode.
They jumped on together and kicked off.
In the three minutes it took the Firebolt to take them outside of Hogwarts wards, Harry called Spider Queen and warned her that they might need a portkey evacuation soon.
"What the hell for?"
"Sirius and I are going into battle to rescue Nim and Professor Vector."
"Battle against whom?"
"Nim says, Walden MacNair and a two foot homunculus that might be Voldemort."
She swore, but agreed.
And then Sirius said, "Hold on, Here goes."
And they were wrenched into somewhere else.
.
...-...
Battle
"What in Merlin's Name?" said Vector as soon as the portkey dropped them somewhere that contained enough time for speaking to be possible.
Around them there was no crowd of adoring fans, but instead rows of squat unmatched standing stones. No lintels, very few obelisks, no sense of radius, just rows upon rows, a grid not quite matching 3 yards by 1 yard, a few statues. Flowers.
We are in a grave yard.
What in Merlin's Name?
Nim hopped down and ducked behind a headstone, to shift, knowing that no one within kilometres could see her.
As soon as she had her human sense of location, and her wand, she knew where they were and why Vector had tensed farther. They were far away from Hogwarts, and yet there were anti-disapparition wards up, making the ambient magic resonate and flow with the clammy staleness of being restricted to only 3 dimensions.
A rustle to her right and she turned to look up hill toward a dilapidated mansion.
"I've been warning you for hours. Then the wards pinged minutes ago!" nagged an unnaturally small voice, "why weren't we already waiting to receive our guest."
"I hunt. I do not ambush," objected a familiar voice.
Vector had already ducked behind a headstone of her own, disillusioned herself, and was muttering diagnostic spells quietly to herself. Perhaps hoping to re-crystallise the portkey that had brought them, before it dissolved completely. That was rather resourceful actually, there was more than one way to bypass the Hogwarts wards, and who knew what wards existed here, it all depended on what resources one had on hand, and a portkey already granted permission through the wards was a treasure.
"Which one did we catch, Anyway?" said the small voice.
"By volume of the portkey ripple, I'd guess the Potter brat," muttered MacNair, "Though why he has the moonstone affinity of two mature witches combined, I'd like to know."
"That does sound more like a pure veela than the quarter veela the French sent."
"She might be slight enough, but I wouldn't have guessed it, my money is on Potter."
"Fine, but never mind that, where is he?"
"Oi, Potter!" sang out MacNair, "come and meet your fate, you know you want to."
Bellatrix suppressed a cackle, hundreds of miles away, Harry was arguing with Sirius about doing exactly that.
Vector merely huffed quietly to herself, and probably rolled her eyes, not that Bellatrix could see, facing the wrong way, nor exerting the energy to see through the disillusionment charm.
Nim shifted small again and began stalking away, she might as well flank the enemy before he spotted her rather than after.
After he was past her, she again shifted big and stared after him. The trade off of height and magic, vs. stealth and visibility.
MacNair made the mistake of putting down his little bundle of nagging and taking his eyes off his surroundings to consult the wards again.
Bellatrix sent off two stunners, MacNair dodged the one, the bundle only hiccuped and was silent.
MacNair rolled in the air and shot a cutting hex back along the spell trail of her curses. She dodged and shifted at the same time, dashing to the cover of a new stone.
By the time he regained his feet she was out of sight. He came stalking toward where she'd shot from, but his eyes flickered after her, he thought the stunner had been from Harry and the scamper of little feet in the grass was her own self.
Both more and less aware than she'd have given him credit for. He'd been getting rusty.
Nim had been teaching Harry to duel for months, her instincts were fresher, but the spells she'd been throwing lately were aligned toward light and red, not the black that she'd once favoured.
Back when it had been her job to keep Macnair on his toes.
She was sure she could still throw those, but they were rusty and didn't spring so readily into muscle memory. She should have been practising.
A misty form emerged above where Vector had last been.
Nim rustled the grass at her feet, attracting MacNair's attention. Just as he settled into a constant creep Vector pegged him with a picture perfect silent confundus. A textbook use of leading your target. Well done. If only it really was Potter over there they could have been coordinating better.
Vector followed her success with the disarming charm; Which, while successful at tossing his wand away into the twilight, also shook MacNair back to reality, and he dived to the side before Vector's stunner could connect.
Nim had to keep him distracted long enough for Vector to get here, or dispatch him herself.
"We've got a working portkey, come here Nim," said Vector.
"Eep," MacNair choked out, as he came to rest on his back, hiding behind the next stone over from where she crouched.
Nim snarled and pounced, claws and teeth at the ready.
Unfortunately he had enough dragon-hide about his person that mostly only his face and hands were vulnerable.
Blood was running freely from his hands and cheek before he'd rolled far enough to retrieve his axe from his belt, but she hadn't gotten anything that looked like arterial flow. She jumped away, but he sprang after her.
On second thought staying close in might have been a better defence against that axe. Depending on if the blade was poisoned or cursed or merely sharp. And whether he had antidote or a counter curse handy, and whether he was crazy enough to strike at her if he were the only chopping block.
Probably he was. Given the dragonhide.
She ducked aside behind another stone, but it wasn't tall enough to be an obstacle to him. He stepped over it and kept coming, chortling and mocking her as he came.
A pale imitation of her own battle patter. She ignored it and doubled back, up into his face. He managed to catch most of her attack on his off hand, and pinned her against a tall headstone before she'd gotten sufficient purchase to do more than rake again.
The axe descended, she rolled to avoid it, loosing nothing but whisker tips to the axe, but it kicked shrapnel of shattering marble in all directions, catching her all along her left side, it only stung her ear. That was a lot of shrapnel, That thing must be enchanted with something momentum related. Probably sharpness too, or at least durability.
She jumped away from him as if his hand were a tree branch and gravity was a hundred and ten degrees off from reality. She rolled in the air and jumped off the first gravestone in her path, it didn't quite give her the trajectory she wanted, neither jump had. She sailed over his shoulder rather than at his face. He grunted and turned after her, ducking under yet another curse from Vector.
Damn it, he shouldn't be this alert, he was losing blood fast, but apparently not fast enough.
Yet he was alert. Her wager not to face him wand to wand and invisible when she could face him claws to wand while inaudible still seemed like the correct assessment, but now he was down a wand, and she was down some whiskers. It seemed like the optimal time to switch tactics.
If she could break contact long enough she could shift and face him with her wand or dagger. She ran, this time going for just plain distance.
.
A grunt and rustle, a rustle that might have been fingers on axe handle. And the world went black.
.
Harry made a call to Narcissa.
.
She woke to find herself in a cage, apparently wrought iron, dangling from the marble tip of an angel's wing. "Master?" said MacNair, "can we use blood of the blighted enemy's familiar instead? Or her flesh for that matter. Or hair?"
The small nagging voice was back, berating him for idiocy and several other things, but admitting eventually that the arithmancy could be made to work.
And so she was left to probe her cage for weaknesses while they argued the elements. From the elements they discussed it was very evidently necromantic, and very evident who was the inspired genius and who was the technician with a strong grasp of the most fundamental thing: available inventory.
The cage had evidently been conjured around her as a single piece of metal. Which meant it was entirely illusion not a scrap of matter to it. But it was an illusion accepted by the mind of Circe, and so it controlled Nim's fate just as surely as if it were not constructed of magic and magic alone.
"Wards! Company," said MacNair, "Stupefy, Accio."
And Nim's world was blank again.
.
Nim?
Master?
We're here, where are you?
Unconscious it seems.
…
?
Alert me as soon as you wake. I don't care whether It's day or night.
Yes, master.
How conscious are you?
I'm not conscious of my body at all, that is the point of the stunner. But there is more to the mind of the mage than what happens in one's brain, Susan Bones and animagus theory both taught you that.
I realise that, which is why I'm asking, you are aware of me, but not your body, you don't seem to be dreaming, what are you doing?
Dreaming is a pastime of a brain, should it feel the need to exercise to stave off boredom. My brain is not available at the moment, I am out of body, In theory I could follow my own spirit and try to observe my body through magic alone, but I'd rather not deal with that until they stop travelling. Magical travel is disorienting enough from the inside.
Yes, well.
.
Nim?
Master?
I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you like I promised.
You did your best, and I know you still plan to do your best.
True.
I likewise did my best to protect Professor Vector as you ordered. I'm sorry I got distracted by my blood-lust.
Yes, well. From everything that the aurors are saying about the wand that Professor Vector brought back, MacNair is quite a dangerous character.
He is.
Is he a death eater?
Yes, though the fact is not widely known, even among death eaters.
Good to know. Was that thing—
Homunculous.
Yes, that, was that Voldemort?
Almost certainly.
Then it is time I get fitted for my basilisk skin armour, and we'll just have to hope I don't grow too much.
Tell Severus to help your leather smith estimate how much malnutrition you've had to deal with, and how tall you'll get in the end.
He'd have a lot of second hand experience with that won't he.
Yes. Pomfrey will have the numbers also, but won't be able to compare them all in her head, or even how to pick out the abuse cases from the rest so easily, and she certainly won't let you look at them.
Of course.
.
Nim?
Master?
It's been days. I miss you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't there.
Master, shut up.
Hedwig doesn't cuddle at night, she barely rubs my head during breakfast. That helps her sleep but not me.
Poor whittle baby Potter.
Shut up.
Yes, my lord.
.
I miss you, Nim. It's been most of a week, Sirius got me from the train and—
I know.
Anyway, I'm so so sorry.
Shut up.
… but …
I've been practising my out of body navigation and observation techniques.
Good?
It seems Lord Tom Riddle has a body now.
Damn it.
And sometimes when he sleeps or meditates he possesses his snake. Seems like that's evidence of soul connection of some kind, though maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part, because I want to know exactly where all the relics are.
Interesting theories, I'll tell Sirius and write Snape and Moody.
Good, make sure that they understand it is theory on my part, I don't have access to my notes, or my relic detector. Maybe she's just his familiar or something.
Understood. Anything else you can tell us about where you are?
No. I need my human body's senses to plan apparition.
That's not the only kind of details you could pass along.
[The mental equivalent of a shrug] I still don't know, but I'll keep paying attention as I have any energy to do so.
Good.
.
I miss you, Nim. I'm—
I know. I know. You're searching every way you know how.
Well, obviously…
Thanks. But I don't know anything more than I did before, and I having enough energy extra to observe my surroundings less and less often.
I'm sorry.
I know! But talking to me doesn't help either of us.
[sigh]
Oh, go fuck a veela for me, master.
… Yes, Nim.
And enjoy it, obviously.
… I'll … try?
...-...
{End Chapter 17}{End Year 4}
A/N: *weepy sigh*
This is the end of part one, obviously. Part 2 is somewhat different, with a more varied tone, less specifically about the Harry / Nim dynamic, more about Harry as one peer among many and the changes they make as they try to move towards their various goals.
