Delivering contracts
Harry spent the evening going over marriage contracts with Sirius, Andromeda, & Ted. And coming up to speed on the amendments so far to the proposed werewolf registration act (originally by Delores Umbrage)
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"This seems a rather sane, way of enforcing this, all things considering."
"Thank you," said Aunt Margaid.
Harry turned to the next page of the legislation, but instead of the page turning, dream-space tore at the seam and dissolved.
Damn it, that was rather inspired legal code and now I'll never remember the gist.
What are you on about, master?
Reviewing contracts before bed made me dream about designing laws. Never mind.
Oh. Yeah, that happens.
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In the morning directly after breakfast, Sirius apparated him to St. Mungo's.
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Mr. Weasley was propped up in bed and Bill was reading him a newspaper, though when Harry and Sirius arrived, he put it aside with a grumble that seemed a judgement of the newspaper, not of the interruption.
"Hello, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley. Sorry, that I couldn't visit sooner."
Mr. Weasley rumbled something and struggled to sit up higher.
Bill immediately helped adjust his bed, and Mr. Weasley took Harry's hand, "That's alright, taking time off school takes a lot of paperwork, and though we think of you as one of ours, neither the Ministry nor Hogwarts has any reason to notice such a claim."
Harry nodded, "About that, I wanted you to have this."
He handed over the roll of parchment.
"What is this?"
Sirius cleared his throat, "It's a betrothal contract between my godson and heir and your daughter.
"Also 400 thousand in life insurance and unemployment insurance policies payable in trust to her and her descendants, in lieu of dowry gold sitting idle," said Harry, "It's written so that the Head of the Weasley Family, and Ginny, have to sign, not you specifically. Your executor or heir is equally acceptable. I wanted to give them to you, not to pressure you while you're sick, but to … set your mind at ease that at least one more of your children can be provided for should you not be able to 'return to work' 'in a timely manner' or whatever. Please relax and get well."
Mr. Weasley stared at him for several seconds, then smiled very warmly, and nodded for him to pass the documents to Bill.
Harry obeyed.
"First of all," said Mr. Weasley, "they say I'm on the mend, the venom seems to have mysteriously vanished during the night, though they'll probably keep me on purgatives for one more day, just to be sure. But they're already planning what order to heal all the organs that the venom damaged."
Harry nodded, "Oh, that's even better news than I'd hoped."
They smiled, and then Mr. Weasley nodded towards Bill again, but kept his eyes on Harry, "So? Give me the highlights," said Mr. Weasley.
"Um?" said Harry.
"Complete betrothal contract," said Sirius, "Will come into force as a marriage contract at Ginny's eighteenth birthday or the event of her presenting Harry with an heir. Unless she, with the advice of her Head of Family, requests for it to be annulled before that time."
"Understood," said Mr. Weasley.
"Ginny gets to choose whether she's taking the name Potter or Black for herself and her children by Harry."
"Galleons to Knuts, she'd choose Potter," said Bill.
"No bet," said Mr. Weasley, "assuming that Molly doesn't catch wind of the choice and interfere."
"Are we certain enough which will make Ginny happiest to put it in ink where Molly won't interfere?" said Sirius.
Bill shrugged, then sat up straight, "you're really making 'Black' an option?" He stared straight at Sirius.
"Yes," said Sirius.
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, "and the other House goes to whom?"
"Parvati Patil," said Harry, "If her father will accept our counteroffer, or failing that, I can convince Sirius to accept his first offer."
"I see," said Mr. Weasley, "Is Ginny aware of her interest."
"Yes," said Harry.
"Is she alright with polygamy in this instance?" said Bill.
Harry shrugged, "She was very much not alright for half an hour."
"Are you already sleeping with her?" growled Bill.
"I regularly sleep between Ginny and Parvati," said Harry, "I rarely go much farther than snogging with either of them."
"Oh," said Bill.
"And about a quarter as often, Ginny sleeps between Parvati and I."
"But you are seeing each other?" said Mr. Weasley.
"I am letting both of them call me boyfriend," said Harry.
Mr. Weasley swallowed, "We'll review it and send word when we have a decision."
Harry wasn't sure whether to say, thank you, or you're welcome, so he just nodded.
Sirius cleared his throat, "Just to be clear, there have been several offers for short term and long term breeding contracts. But my policy has been to ignore the short term contracts until he's old enough to negotiate them for himself. And reject long term contracts that don't seem to be trying to offer long term alliances worth the burden they might place on the time and resources Harry and his prospective family. The rest I reply with a polite suggestion that they take more time to consider the best interests of Harry, his family, and the future of the children they hope to breed. So far everyone has taken the hint."
"Have you kept any of them?" said Harry.
"Only a few that were barely acceptable," said Sirius, "Why?"
"Wondered if they would be worth reading for practice with contract analysis," said Harry.
"Do you plan to be a lawyer?" said Bill, "I thought you were thinking of becoming a warding researcher."
"I think they're one and the same," said Harry, "except one kind of contract is enforced by magic, as long as it is within the range of things that magic would like to obey. And another is obeyed and enforced by people, should the effects be beneficial enough to them for them to desire to continue."
"Ah," said Bill, "An interesting conceit. And what is the legal counterpart of a curse breaker then?"
Harry shrugged, "something between a reformist legislator, and an appellate lawyer."
Bill stared for a moment, then grinned, "Yes, I see."
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After they left the Hospital, Sirius glanced at the address and the map he'd copied from his UK Road Atlas, then side-along apparated him to the back section of a park where the sun seemed higher and warmer. Except the air wasn't warmer. Sirius led the way out of the park.
"This might be the farthest east I've ever been," said Harry, "Not counting the Delacours'."
Sirius stared at him appraisingly, then shook his head, "Your grandparent's manor?"
Harry shrugged, "wasn't in sight of sky or dirt there," said Harry.
"Oh, you're talking about learning your apparition instinct?"
"Yeah?"
Sirius nodded, "probably, I should show you the cliffs of Dover sometime."
"I'd like that," said Harry, "So we're north of London though?"
"Yes, about half as far north from it as Godric's Hollow. This is Thetford, there are enough ethnic shops of all kinds that it's easy to hide a magical shop here or there with no one the wiser."
Harry chuckled.
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"So what do you know about this family?"
"I told you what I knew back at the Tonks' house, Their Mum's English, their Da's of Indian descent. They run a farm co-op with a 'surprisingly robust trade in herbal remedies.'"
"Which here means 'potions business'," said Sirius, "The very traditional way to skirt the statute of secrecy. An almost pre-statute way of doing things actually."
Except then the food stockpile might be located in the keep, not a commoner's store. And the woman with time to study herbology and potions might either be the Lord's wife or the widowed grandmother with the most sons supporting her.
"Right, I think he's a muggle-born, but I don't have any idea about her."
"Daughters in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"
"Yes."
Sirius nodded and led the way across the street and into a corner store.
Padma was reading behind the counter, when the bell over the door rang she looked up, recognised them, smiled, then mouthed, "hello Harry," then she rolled her eyes slightly and reached under the counter to ring a different, more shrill bell. "Wait here," she said, then vanished out the back.
A minute later Mr. Patil entered. There were introductions.
Sirius took out a binder and handed it over.
"Harry brought me your proposals, I've gone over them and addressed a few points to bring them more in line with the Proud Traditions of the House of Potter."
"Oh?" said Mr. Patil.
"None of the discrepancies was … a deal-breaker, from our perspective, but … we'd prefer to uphold our traditions if you'll allow us."
"Oh," said Mr. Patil. He looked back and forth between them for a moment, then nodded, "Let's work in my office, follow me."
He led them through a back room, through a warehouse space, and into an office.
As they took the offered seats he stuck his head out a different door, and called, "Sylpha, I'll be busy for a while, can you listen for the store too?"
A muffled shout.
Sirius tensed.
"Thank you," called Mr. Patil and closed the door.
"Now," he said, "We shouldn't be interrupted by anything simple. Let's see what you have." He opened the folder and began reading.
"This is … not the way I'd have handled … I suppose it is acceptable," said Mr. Patil and read on. He put aside one contract and began the next, he put that one aside also and began the next, "Is this one all the same as the first?"
"The first two are standard," said Sirius, "A betrothal contract for your younger daughter, and for your older daughter a contract to induct her into the same house, with breeding rights included."
"Understood," said Mr. Patil.
"The second set, also give your oldest the power to bring successively more distant relations into that house protection under her family headship, as long as they wish it, and the move is not later vetoed or annulled by the ruling head of house."
"The second marriage contract specifies that your younger daughter holds that right and the right to rule her sister's family, if your older daughter dies or becomes incapable, until such time as a new head of family is appointed."
"Seems straightforward."
"Only In theory, but family and house ruler-ship can get tense if these things are not specified in advance, and none of us wishes to be the cause of a succession feud in the next generation."
"True. I don't see why I wouldn't prefer the second set."
"The main reason would be if your family constitution, house constitution, or the treaty between house and family, is not compatible with either that right or just of ever making use of it."
"Or," said Harry, "If Padma expects relatives to lobby her to abuse that right, and would prefer not to have it. If she doesn't have it, then normal rules would apply, they'd have to lobby me, and I would naturally only be willing to induct them after they swore the standard oaths for the good of the house and obedience to their family head within the house, which would normally be Padma."
"This doesn't give her an unusual right, so much as takes it away from you?"
"More like delegates my right to her, under specific circumstances," said Harry, "until I have reason to get annoyed with her abuse of it, or the people that she's inducting by it."
"Yes, I see. Again, I don't have a strong opinion one way or the other."
"Then ask Padma," suggested Harry.
He frowned oddly and bit his lip, then nodded.
"Anything else we should discuss before I call them in?"
"There is another point of difference between what's on offer, and what I had discussed earlier," said Harry, "But it can just as easily wait until we're all here."
"What's that?"
Harry took a deep breath, then turned to Sirius, "It's your House?"
Sirius nodded, "I am Lord Black, and Head of the House of Black, and I have chosen to make Harry my Heir."
"What difference does that make?"
"It means, keeping gold diggers away from me," said Sirius, "And it means Harry has got to breed an heir and a spare for two houses. not one."
Harry snorted. Three, counting Bones.
Parvati entered, Padma was right behind her trying to hold her back.
"It means," said Harry, "I'd like Parvati to consider taking the name of 'Black,' for herself and her heirs, instead of 'Potter'."
"Oh," said Mr. Patil, "That … sounds like a political rather than practical difference?"
"Very much so," said Sirius, "Hello girls."
Mr. Patil sighed, "What are you doing here so soon?"
"Padma said you wanted us."
"NO," said Padma, "I said he might want us soon, and to be ready."
"Oh," said Parvati, "Sorry."
Mr. Patil sighed and stared at her for several seconds, then relaxed, "it is fine, we were about ready for you anyway. Do you have anything to say regarding becoming betrothed to Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, please," said Parvati, she looked at Harry, "Did the contract change much besides the name and the dowry specifications?"
Harry shook his head.
"What are the political ramifications of the house names?" said Padma.
"Mostly," said Sirius, "the House of Black has been blood purist for about three generations, and I think it's high time it was ruled by a half-blood."
Parvati chuckled.
"I'm not making a mistake here?" said Sirius, "You're both second-generation witches, right?"
Parvati shook her head, "Mum and Dad are both half-bloods."
"Oh," said Sirius, "alright whatever."
"More practically," said Sirius, "The House of Potter has historically been a landed house that dabbles in the mercantile, the House of Black has been a mercantile house that dabbles in investment, though there are enough gold reserves that I haven't yet gotten around to reinvesting that we could buy land also if you'd prefer."
Parvati looked at Harry.
Harry shrugged, "I wish to raise my children in farm country, but that doesn't stop me from also researching, trading, or investing."
Padma raised her hand, "research for me."
"Me too," said Parvati.
"By the way, Harry," said Padma, "the way the floo network gets around your long-distance wormhole stabilisation problem is stone engraving, short-duration connections, and ritual transfer of disorder into the fire."
"Oh," said Harry, "That's a much more complex solution than I was searching for."
"You might also look into silver or electrum for your runic foundation, that's how communication mirrors achieve the otherwise impossible, but even they have to stay relatively small."
"Yeah," said Harry, "But the arithmancy for frictionless runes is hard."
"I'd bet it's not, once we're about halfway through sixth year."
"Oh," said Harry.
Padma nodded and smiled, then looked around, "alright, we're done, sorry."
"It's quite alright," said Sirius.
Mr. Patil seemed to think it wasn't 'quite alright' but didn't seem willing to say so.
"So the last question from my end," said Sirius, "we're back to, how much of your family, would you be hoping Padma inducts into hers?"
Mr. Patil frowned, "None, until and unless Sylphadie and I become incapable of protecting them."
Sirius nodded, "And then?"
Mr. Patil bit his lip, "as many as need it and she can … afford."
Sirius pushed the standard contracts farther off to the side, then pulled the secondary pair more toward the centre of the desk.
"What other questions are we waiting for?" said Sirius.
"Are you in a hurry?" said Mr. Patil.
"Not precisely," Sirius shrugged, "Technically I am off duty today, but I was notified a few minutes ago that there has been a non-emergency event that I personally have been requested to consult on. The suspense is killing me, but I don't technically need to respond before I go on duty again tomorrow. Until they see fit to upgrade the notification to 'urgent', this is a higher priority."
"Alright," said Mr. Patil.
"Do we have any questions?" he asked his daughters.
"Not yet," said Padma, "May I read my contract? Then I might."
"Ah, Go ahead," said her father.
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"Does this mean I'd be living with you from now on?" said Parvati.
Harry checked what clause she'd gotten to, "Not quite," said Harry, "It would mean, preferentially living only places where I agreed the wards or other protections are trustworthy. And you'd have the option to request an escort from me or whatever vassal I might assign to you, when you want it, or when we agree that the times require particular security measures."
"Instead of or in addition to, from Da … err… previous family connections."
Harry shrugged, "I don't mind you stating a preference to stay with your parents for the summer holidays or whatever, this is what is called a seamless betrothal contract, not a marriage contract, that's why it has clauses for what each of us can expect from each other before, and after marriage."
Parvati frowned and skimmed back, "eighteenth birthday … or I bear you an heir … if the contract is still in force. What can make it not in force?"
"During the betrothal phase, you can annul it by informing me, while not under the influence of mind-altering substance or magic, that you wish it annulled. During the marriage phase, you must also present to me written documentation that you have an alternate living arrangement that you find acceptable."
"What happens to the children?" said Mr. Patil.
"The children, if any, are the heirs and wards of the House of Black, if she is no longer the co-ruler of her family unit within the House of Black, she has no authority over them."
"Could, in theory, visitation rights be negotiated?"
"In theory," said Sirius, "Would you allow that? You didn't mention it at all in your previous contract."
Mr. Patil sighed, "The fact that all the time frames are nebulous is messing with my sense of proportion. They are too young to marry."
"With all due respect," said Harry, "your daughters are some of the smartest and most mature in their year, in the whole school maybe."
Mr. Patil sighed, "and you?"
"I am an orphan, I only know how to be an adult. I've only recently learned about how to be a child from watching your daughters and some others help and receive help from their friends."
Mr. Patil crossed his arms and stared for most of a minute.
Harry checked his occlumency, but he didn't seem to be trying to enter.
Mr. Patil nodded, "alright, I return to my previous stance: the contract is correctly written to let this progress naturally, and only penalise anyone, if they make stupid decisions before they are ready. It makes some trade-offs that I don't like, but none that I wish to suggest better alternatives."
Harry and Sirius nodded. Because when and wherever we didn't mind, we modelled from what you'd already offered me, or from your implied preference.
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Padma and Parvati relaxed, glanced at each other and rolled their eyes, and resumed reading.
After about three minutes Padma finished and stared at the ceiling.
A minute later Parvati finished and closed her eyes. After half a minute, without looking up she held her contract out toward her sister. They traded and resumed reading.
Mr. Patil and Sirius looked surprised. Harry felt surprised, he'd often seen them read near each other, and he had a vague idea that they read at very nearly the same speed, but he'd rarely seen them start the same assignment at close enough to the same time to watch how well they might stay in sync throughout. Usually, their collaboration looked more like bookmarking things for each other and sharing notes.
This time they finished together and stared at each other. Before shrugging and trading back.
Parvati rubbed her arms.
Padma shuddered.
"Something wrong?" said Mr. Patil.
"I don't want to go through with this without Grandma's permission," said Padma.
"Or at least telling her first," said Parvati.
"Why?" said Mr. Patil, "You hate my mother, and we all agreed not to mention magic to her ever."
"Not your Mum," said Padma, "Mum's."
Mr. Patil shuddered.
"Trouble with your in-laws?" smirked Sirius.
"When I married Sylphadie Bryce, I thought I was marrying a Hufflepuff muggle-born, not a half swamp nymph."
"Um," said Sirius, "clarify whether a swamp nymph is a naiad or a dryad?"
"I think nymph is correct, in that it's a somewhat meaningless distinction," said Padma, "In Greek a hamadryad is of a single tree, technically a single oak tree, dryads are of an entire oak grove, there are similar designations for other tree species, not that English bothered to import all that. Naiads and several other things are of water, I can't remember which names go with which size body of water. And Gaunt wood is definitely a wood, even if the ground is soggy in places. But anyway, they are all, just various kinds of nymphs."
"Gaunt Wood," said Harry, "As in House of Gaunt?"
"Well, not anymore," said Mr. Patil, "the last of them went to Azkaban a generation ago. But she is from nearby."
Sirius shuddered.
"That area of the country is where parselmouths and maledicti have preferred to live since before Salazar Slytherin," said Parvati.
"And what portion of them are descendants of Grand-mum by previous … human companions?" said Padma.
"Merlin," said Parvati.
Sirius cleared his throat, "are we saying that Sylphadie Bryce, champion of muggle-born rights, has a parentage exactly as unclear as that of Salazar Slytherin?"
Padma shook her head, "Slytherin's parentage is unclear, probably because he or his historians didn't choose to record it where we can still find, but Mum's is not, Grand-mum is smart, but … a little absentminded, and very much not caught up with humans' … self-absorption with their own culture and artefacts."
Parvati cleared her throat.
Harry looked at her.
"Lady Nagini of Gaunt wood, is a real person, and of her children, all the mages are parselmouths," said Parvati.
"And she's your grandmother?" said Harry.
Padma and Parvati both nodded. "And a snake," whispered Padma, "most of the time."
"So?" said Parvati.
Sirius shuddered again, "How many parselmouths are in the building?"
"Two, to my knowledge," said Padma, "Mum, and Harry."
"Ah!" breathed Mr. Patil, "Why did no one tell me that. That makes the past more obvious and the present much simpler, why don't you two go introduce Harry to your Grandmother."
"I'm supposed to be helping Mum with the brewing today," said Parvati.
"I …" started Padma, then turned to Parvati, "I'll take your place, you take Harry, and if she's amenable to him marrying you, and being the head of a family, rather than trying to marry into her family, also ask her permission for me to … leave home to work in his labs or however you think she'll best understand it all."
"Alright," said Parvati, "Let's go clear it with Mum."
She left.
"Come on Harry," said Padma and followed after.
Harry glanced at Sirius.
"Is there a place for him to floo home from here?"
"No, but there will be where they're going," said Mr. Patil, "Don't worry we'll take care of him and get him home in one piece."
"Thank you, Mr. Patil." They shook hands and Sirius followed Harry as far as the door back out into the corner shop. Where Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulder and stared into his eyes. "Are you going to be alright?"
Harry nodded.
"And you don't mind the risk of marrying into you-know-who's family?"
Harry shrugged, "I'm probably related to him three other ways through my Dad and once through my Mom, You want me to go looking for a Canadian witch instead?"
Sirius blinked and rolled his eyes, "I doubt the Canadian gene pool is that far removed, if you're that scared of inbreeding, better to make it a black South American."
Harry nodded, "That makes sense, and where would I find time to meet one of those?"
Sirius snorted and shook his head, "never mind."
Harry nodded, "More to the point, I take it you know their Mum?"
Sirius smirked, "Hufflepuff through and through," he nodded, "and how one is raised counts for more than genes, in most ways anyway." he frowned, "she looks a lot like your Mum, except black hair."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "so … maybe once through my Dad, and three times through my Mum?"
Sirius's mouth hung open, then he shrugged, "I've got to go, say 'hi' to Sylphadie for me." He went out the front.
...-...
A visit to Grandmother's
Harry shivered. And not just from the cold, nor about being left alone in another strange house by Sirius.
Padma gripped his arm and he turned to her.
"Sorry about him," said Harry, "His sense of humour and proportion are … off."
Padma nodded, "And you've learned to humour him, I understand. Da's family is prudes also, in their own way."
Harry shrugged.
She led Harry down a hall and into a potions lab. Except it was less 'lab' and more 'factory/kitchen' than any potions lab he'd been in before.
"Mum," Parvati was saying, "May Padma substitute for me, Dad has sent me to Grand-mum's, unless you want us both to work and you can go to Grand-mum's."
"What's this about? Who were those people and what were they selling?"
"Protection," said Padma.
"Oh … did your father confund them that we'd already paid, or that they had a pressing appointment with the bobby?"
"Not that kind of protection," said Padma.
"They weren't selling," said Mr. Patil entering behind them, "they were buying."
"Oh," said Mrs. Patil turning to him, "What did they want?"
"Our daughters," said Mr. Patil, "You've met Harry Potter before?"
Mrs. Patil's mouth dropped open and she finally looked up from feeding wiggling parsnips into a dicing machine.
She still didn't look that much like any picture that Harry had seen of his Mum. She looked like her daughters, except with paler skin and olive-green eyes. She seemed much more intimidating wearing a potions lab safety apron, than the casual winter clothes she'd been wearing the year before to watch Professor Vector rescue Parvati from the lake.
"Oh, hello Harry."
"Lord of Potter and Heir of Black apparently."
"Why?" she said, "Oh, never mind, but what's this about my mum?"
"Turns out he's a parselmouth, and that they want to introduce him to your Mum before they admit out loud a desire to change house allegiance."
"Well of course," she said, "go on, then."
"Unless you'd feel better about his safety, verifying that he is, first?" said Mr. Patil.
She stared at Harry, "So you can talk to snakes?"
"Yes, and they talk back," he said.
"Can you demonstrate?" she said.
"It's kind of an instinctual thing, I can barely notice that I'm not speaking English unless someone else tells me I'm not."
She nodded, "Practice can help with that, but in the meantime:" She pointed to an unframed square of painted canvas hanging on the wall.
The left half was painted bright yellow with a black serpent coiled in the centre, the right half was blue with a set of brass scales on a pillar. And around both icons the outline of a two-story house.
Oh, this trick. He stared at the snake until he could feel his magic take notice, "Hello, can you hear me."
Harry was very aware that they nodded, seemingly in approval, rather than twitching in fear, surprise, or disapproval. Which perhaps was what Padma had predicted the first time it had come up.
"Very good," said Mrs. Patil, "Run along and have fun."
"Come on," said Parvati. She led him to a little closet and opened a key safe, but the thing she took down from the rack was not a key ring, but a slice of a tree limb that the centre had rotted out, and someone had vaguely carved the remainder into an ouroboros.
"Hold tight," she said.
Harry held tight. The wood did not feel rough, it felt slick, like someone had polished it, then enchanted it with a permanent imperturbable.
"Over the river and through the woods," announced Parvati, "ewch."
Harry held tight, to the portkey and to his breakfast, and to his temper. What he didn't keep was his balance.
He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. They were in a shed with dim sunlight filtering through the dusty windows. Parvati hung the portkey on a peg and opened the door.
Harry followed her out into the December sun, looked around, and shivered under an intense bout of deja vu.
"Is there a graveyard over in that direction?" he pointed.
"Hmm, I think so, why?"
"Was there an incredibly large area forest fire over in that direction?"
"There better not be," she said, "that's where we're going."
She took two steps and paused with an, "Oh!"
She turned back, looked around and pointed in a different direction, "The forest fire was over there, I don't think it really counts as 'big' as forest fires go, maybe for forest fires in England."
"Oh," said Harry.
She shrugged. She pointed at the house they were passing, "Grandpa lived over there, but he died last year."
"Oh," said Harry, "I'm sorry."
She shrugged, "They said he was a grumpy old man and only happy when he was talking to his plants. But then, he always seemed happy enough when Mum brought us around. I suppose grandparents are often biased about liking their grandchildren, even if they don't like anyone else. Uncle Jason lives there now, and has Grandpa's groundskeeper job, though much of it takes him a lot less time, what with all his big equipment.
"He doesn't mind Mum and us visiting, but we always have to keep things muggle unless he says that none of his neighbours or employees is currently visiting."
"Makes sense," said Harry, "How many aunts and uncles do you have?"
"On Mum's side?" said Parvati, "Aunt Melia, muggle; Uncle Ismenus, wizard; Mum, witch of course; Uncle Tenerus, muggle, he prefers his middle name, Jason, because muggles are more likely to say it correctly."
"Fair enough," said Harry, "Are those all … nymphs?"
"Yes, Nymphs for first names, and heroes for second names," said Parvati, "Why?"
Harry shrugged.
"Padma and I are named after goddesses, is it a problem?"
"No, it's just a naming scheme, the house of Black tends to use constellations, and the House of Potter tends to use English royalty, Professor Snape's family obviously preferred Latin royalty. I'm not sure I even care, though I'll go out on a limb to suggest naming schemes in general might … become untenable after more than about three children."
Parvati chuckled.
After a few minutes, she said, "And here's the second creek."
It was in fact a creek, and not fast enough flowing that Harry would want to wade in it.
"Grand-mum used to slither into Grandpa's basement and stay there for weeks at a time, especially in winter."
"Oh, You started telling me something about that, back when you were explaining what 'maledictus' meant," said Harry, "I'm afraid that I'm understanding a lot better now, with more context."
"Yeah, that was a while ago," she said, "Anyway, We used to visit her twice a month or so, she was human about every other visit, except in the winter, sometimes she'd stay human for longer than that is all."
"Oh," said Harry, "Now I see. Makes sense that staying inside more and more bundled up for winter, would result in a lot less moonlight exposure."
"Exactly," said Parvati.
"Um," said Harry, "Back at your house, Your Mum and Padma seemed to be talking cross purposes to the explanations you were trying to give me."
Parvati sighed, "Padma is better at politics."
"Huh?"
"Grandpa … basically worshipped grandma, somewhere between a nymph and a goddess, and maybe a djinn, and sort of taught Mum to do the same. Padma and I picked up on what etiquette they think is acceptable, though I don't think anyone but Grandpa has tried to teach us to think she's a goddess. Da has a completely different set of baggage about what even is a goddess, and vacillates between treating Mum as a goddess and just a witch that happens to have a goddess for a near ancestor."
"Oh, um," said Harry.
"Mum has never claimed to be a goddess, but won't deny it either, especially if Da is in the room. Half of why he's gotten away with raising us mostly atheists is because he can earnestly tell his relatives that we don't have a household shrine because the whole house is his shrine to Mum."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Which is … also why …" Parvati shrugged, "my family is less strict about the statute of secrecy than might be expected."
"I thought that was because both of them were half-bloods."
"That's why they grew up able to be relaxed about it, but that the muggle side of Da's family can wink at nod about potions and enchanted artefacts being either displays of Mum's divine power, or displays of her ability to hoodwink Da and some of the rest of us about having divine power."
"Oh," said Harry, "That's…"
"Yeah," said Parvati, "Being around Da's family is an exercise in remembering and keeping straight, three religions, and about 12 conspiracy theories, and who believes which ones."
Harry shuddered, "Um … Three religions?"
"Two versions of Hindu, and Da worshipping Mum, or at least doing nothing that might tick off her mum."
"Oh," said Harry, "I don't think I've heard about denominations of Hindu."
Parvati stopped walking and turned to face him, "It's been blatantly obvious for several millennia now, but outsiders rarely pick up on it."
"Oh?" said Harry.
"The number of denominations of Hindus is somewhere between the number of Houses of practising Hindus, and the number of families."
"Oh," said Harry, "Merlin!"
Parvati chuckled wryly, then shrugged, "Which I think is what usually helps keep there from being wars between denominations. Or for that matter, the wisdom teaches that making war on evildoers and showing courage while doing said duty is a good thing. Asking the gods to help you and protect you is an obvious choice, but believing that the gods won't also be helping and protecting your enemies is … rather stupid. There are enough gods to go around for them to be some on each side, and plenty more that are indifferent at present."
"Wow, um, are the gods really like that?"
"No, that's just my analysis of the human condition under Hinduism," said Parvati, "And I'd rather you didn't quote me on even that much, I'm an atheist and haven't made a special study of any of that."
"An atheist means you believe that there is no god?"
"No gods or goddesses, yes," said Parvati, "Given that even Grandma says she's just a witch like me, though perhaps significantly stronger than I'll ever get, I must assume I've never met a divinity."
"And what is it called when I don't have an opinion and haven't tried to form one?"
"Agnostic, the 'weak' agnostic position is, 'I don't know and I don't care.' The 'strong' agnostic position is 'I don't know and have proven to my satisfaction that the answer is unknowable (or not knowable without personally witnessing a divine intervention)'."
"Hmm," said Harry, "alright."
"Various schools of thought consider the strong agnostic position and the atheist position to be the same, which I think makes more sense for mages than it does for muggles. I do things with a wand that might seem like divine intervention to the average atheist, but to me, the material explanation is still sufficient, I just happen to have experienced more kinds of material than they have."
"Alright."
"So you identify as agnostic?" said Parvati.
"No," said Harry, "never thought about it before, just … I currently categorise what I happen to believe somewhere near there."
Parvati was quiet for a long time.
"Good, I think tying beliefs to identity is somewhat problematic anyway."
"Huh?"
"I said good for you," she said, "Susan was telling us: identifying yourself with something was the path to addiction and irrational behaviour."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Of course, Luna's response was that never identifying with anything was the path to having nothing to do."
"Is that …?"
"The voice of experience?"
"Maybe?"
"I don't know," said Parvati, "I don't think I've ever considered asking Luna if she identifies with anything larger than herself."
"The gathering and disseminating of knowledge, probably," said Harry.
"Wait," said Parvati, "Ravenclaw as a religion rather than as a personality type? No wonder she doesn't quite fit with the rest."
Harry snorted, "that's … not quite what I meant, but yeah I guess."
.
"It's weird," said Parvati, "I don't know when I've done this much walking in human form in months."
"How much farther is it?" said Harry.
"Until I feel her wards and say the right words for them to let me through?"
"How far is that?"
Parvati shrugged, "maybe another kilometre, unless she's out and about and notices us coming."
"Oh," said Harry, "I certainly wouldn't mind wearing more fur."
"How does your other form react to seeing snakes?"
Harry shrugged.
"Mine is … adversarial," said Parvati, "I'm not going to risk it."
"Alright," said Harry.
.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"How offended would everyone be if I requested Potter, not Black?"
"I don't mind either way, I think it's just Lord Black was trying to decide what to do about an heir, and when I mentioned You and Ginny, he decided we were a solution to his problem. I don't mind, as long as I don't have to change my plans to have as much of my family as possible, living within a window-sight distance of each other's houses. He says Potter estates is big enough for that if I can get hold of it again, or I can buy land somewhere else. He even mentioned buying several farms in several areas of the country and floo'ing between as needed. But … I want children to be able to visit each other without help, and I know not to trust the floo network to handle children that cannot pronounce their relatives' names yet."
"Oh," she said, "Yeah, I see."
"Why? Do you prefer 'Potter'?"
"I was thinking about friction with Ginny, not short term friction, that will either come to a head and one of us will opt to annul before eighteen, or we'll work things out. I was thinking in terms of … your earlier goal about letting all the children forget whose parents are whose."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Also, if I name my children based on constellations, which language and traditions do we teach them? Because not all the constellations moved east with the same forms and meanings as those that moved west. And a small but significant fraction being forgotten and then made up again since Ur."
"Fair enough."
"So, I guess I'm imagining naming them all Potter until Sirius or you dies, and the other of you chooses one or two from among all the Potter children to be the Heir of Black. There might still be jealousy, but it might be put off for years longer."
"I hear what you're saying," said Harry, "and I'm not sure which house name Padma wishes her family to be in."
"I think she wanted Potter, but until today, that was the only option on the table, but I think the only thing she's told Dad was, 'I want Parvati and I to end up in the same House,' and 'I'd rather a breed contract that leaves me more free to pursue my own career goals.'"
"Makes sense," said Harry, "I was surprised when Sirius pushed the Black option at me yesterday evening. On the one hand, I know it's a compliment, and on another, I understand that it will make polygamy significantly more acceptable to certain sections of society, but I just don't care about that."
"No," said Parvati, "But … I guess … I guess Padma deserves the right to choose to have her children protected by my children."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
"Alright," said Parvati, "maybe I've managed to convince myself to accept 'Black' after all if that's the only option."
"Do you think you could convince Ginny to accept 'Black' instead?"
"That doesn't seem like much of a stretch," said Parvati, "she wants you, not a house."
"Hmm, interesting point," said Harry, "There are rumours that her mother would prefer Black and because of that she's not being told it is an option."
"So … what exactly?"
"You want to floo Ginny and ask her, without … pressuring her?"
"No, that's … I don't really care who has which, I just hoped we could have the same because separating the kids by name could cause a particular kind of discussion. But I guess just calling them by first name only would gloss over that until they were mostly old enough anyway. Without needing to take choice away from Padma, or reject the gift from Lord Black."
Harry sighed, "Yeah, now I see."
.
Parvati pulled up short, took a deep breath and called out, "Lady of the Wood, Lady of the Wood, may we come in?"
Silence.
Harry stepped up next to her and felt the tingle of wards just ahead.
"Is she …"
"Hibernating?" said Parvati, "Maybe. She's big enough, she has the body mass to stay active if she chooses to, it's just that mornings have a slow start, you know."
"Alright," said Harry.
After two minutes more waiting in which Parvati grew visibly more nervous. She held out her hand and walked forward until she seemed to be physically restrained.
"Request blood override," she said.
A vine snicked out from nowhere and gouged her hand with a nettle, and sprang back into the shadows. Parvati drew her wand and healed herself.
She put her wand away and stood up straight.
The tingle of the wards died away, and three meters away a hedge of mock-orange parted to reveal more path.
They resumed walking for about twenty meters. Then Parvati crouched and knocked on a large rock.
It echoed hollowly.
A minute later she lifted it, revealing that it was only two fingers thick, and had one edge stuck in a contraption that was willing to hold it mostly upright. Below it was a dark opening from which warm air rose up, moist enough to turn to fog as it mixed with the colder air.
Parvati sighed and jumped in, there was a tingle as a ward triggered and slowed her fall out of sight.
Harry waited for twenty seconds and jumped after her.
He landed in what he could only describe as a cosy root cellar, dimly lit by bowls of bluebell flame.
"I was going to look around, and then call you or not, depending," said Parvati, "but I forgot for a moment I had you with me, instead of Padma."
"Meaning what?"
"More Gryffindor than I am, instead of slightly less," said Parvati.
"Oh," said Harry, "Fair enough."
"What did you think I meant?"
"Possibly that I'm not yet proficient at reading your mind."
She snorted, "in general, as smart as most of Lion's-Keep is, which is to say, how many avenues of thought we might each pursue at a time, I'd hesitate to make predictions about how long and how closely we'd need to work together before we'd become proficient at predicting each other's thoughts."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Predicting each other's actions is a different thing," she said, "if faced with the same situation, say like a chess game, there are too many moves to analyse them all, but if we each analysed say, the ten per cent each of us thought most promising, chances are high that we'd all notice a few of the best. And pick from among the few that we noticed, we might not all pick the same, but we'd probably mostly pick from in the range that the others also analysed."
"I'm not really the best at chess," said Harry.
"Only compared to Ron," said Parvati, "but that's saying something about Ron, not about you."
"Ah," said Harry. "Anyway, I understand your analogy."
She nodded and turned away to explore deeper into the apartment.
There were a few candles here and there, while they were not lit … they seemed to be strategically located, as appropriate for … reading or writing. There was a desk fit for a human, and what appeared to be a beanbag chair recessed into the floor at the base of a half-empty bookshelf. Almost like his birthday picture from Luna.
He shivered and moved on.
In another far corner there were a pile of bones, mostly small woodland creatures by the look of it, not that he was an expert enough to recognise what kinds, but they seemed to indicate an upper limit of what size she normally hunted.
Harry turned again and realised that the basin he'd walked right by was a sink, he just hadn't recognised it because it was on the floor and made of a root the size of a washbasin, and the two pieces of river cane which hung on the wall behind it, were a rune-based faucet that didn't need to connect to anything.
"What do you see?" Parvati said.
"I'd say a witch could live here comfortably enough. If she were antisocial enough to not bring a lot of friends over."
"Or just does most of her socialising elsewhere," said Parvati, "Which one might assume is where she is now."
Harry nodded, "Why, what do you see?"
"That she hasn't been around for at least a week, and left in a hurry," said Parvati, "I don't have any idea where she is unless she's wintering over with Uncle Jason, but … after Grandpa died she stayed the hell away from there for quite a while."
"Oh," said Harry.
"But maybe that's just because no one was living there at the time," said Parvati.
"What do you want to do next?" said Harry.
"Write her a note, explaining why we visited, then go to Uncle Jason's. If that doesn't turn up news or an explanation, then home to tell Mum to tell Uncle Izzy, and let him investigate."
"Ah, alright," said Harry.
They went to the desk, Parvati lit a candle, wrote a note explaining their presence, and asking for a visit as soon as it was convenient, then signed it.
While she worked Harry brought the river-cane 'faucet' over to examine the runes in the better light, just two pieces of river-cane lashed together, and engraved with runes for basic indefinite water conjuration, predicated on, 'only while this piece of cane was less than half full,' also there were the runes defining the temperature of the water being conjured. Harry memorised them carefully. Then put it back where he'd found it.
On his way back he saw a dual purpose picture frame/pegboard, there was a black and white photo of a middle-aged couple, a colour picture of them again with three children: the oldest dressed for school and obviously proud, a picture of the other two children now medium-sized and wearing Hogwarts' robes, one of them still small enough to have no tie. One picture of each of those children and another in muggle or Hogwarts graduating hats. Three more showing some of those children getting married. All of them except the father and the youngest son had straight black hair. The mother and the sons had brown eyes, though perhaps not the normal colour brown, The father had blue eyes, and the daughters had green. All of them except the father had eyes slanted just a little more than usual.
Harry wondered whether anyone knew if his Mum were a parselmouth, perhaps Professor Snape would know. He could check for eye slant by himself, the next time he was at his trunk. And … was there something creepy in the way both Professor Snape and James Potter had worshipped her?
Harry turned away, glancing around for any more photos. Nothing. But on the end of the bookcase, several newspaper clippings were tacked up.
He checked, they amounted to a brief synopsis of the rise and fall of you-know-who as reported in the prophet, perhaps selected for only those articles that contained pictures.
A good thing to worry about, a good face to be able to recognise, if somewhere nearby was a place meaningful enough for him to bury a Horcrux.
Harry remembered the boy in the diary had brown eyes, but given the lighting and the transparency issues, he couldn't have guessed whether they were a normal brown, or a brown like the woman who lived here and her children. Perhaps parselmouth wasn't actually genetically linked to green eyes or slightly darker brown, he had much too small a sample size to estimate from.
Harry returned to Parvati's side.
She was just folding up the note and didn't seem inclined to let him read it. After she put it down she twitched her wrists out the way she did right before hugging her sister. Then she lowered them again and turned to face him. "I'm mildly tempted to strip you naked and snuggle you in her reading nest, where she's sure to smell us and what our emotions were at the time," said Parvati, "seems like a more straightforward explanation of who we both are, and what we're thinking about each other, than this, which she might not fully understand until she's in the mood to be human again."
"Ah," said Harry.
"But … it would be rude," she said, "or at least it would seem rude to the humans in the family, or maybe to the non-horse animagi in the family."
"Of which you're the only one?" "Exactly," said Parvati, "Let's go."
So they went out the same way they entered.
Except for this time when they jumped, their flight was slowed and prolonged instead of their descent.
"Whoa," said Harry.
"What?" said Parvati, "you landed that well for a first time."
"Thanks.'
They tipped the stone door back into place and began the return journey, Parvati seemed to be walking slower, paying a lot more attention to her surroundings. Concerned.
"Your mother was cute as a firstie."
"Aren't we all?"
Harry shrugged, "Some more than others."
"True."
"I noticed there weren't so many pictures of your youngest uncle."
"Uncle Jason was the one who spent a large fraction of his allowance on his camera and film, she probably had a much larger selection of photos of everyone else."
"Oh."
"She has a love/hate relationship with photos, and a particular hatred of a certain subsection of frivolous art and showy spell-work, you notice she doesn't have many photos and no paintings?"
"Yeah."
"And none of her snake form, even though Grandpa kept about equal numbers, once Jason started taking candid pictures of her that way."
Harry grunted, "Candid photos are a fraught topic."
"Um?"
"I dislike photos taken without my permission."
"Right."
"I also … have my suppressed slytherin side critiquing everything else as probably staged."
"Candid photos can also be staged," said Parvati, "or at least, situations can be staged, such that opportunities to take the photo you wish might become available."
"True," said Harry, "and you can ask people at the door, 'hey we're going to be taking some pictures tonight, do you mind?' then wait for them to forget about you and go back to their natural behaviour before you take pictures."
"True," said Parvati.
.
After about half a kilometre, Parvati glanced over, "do you want a ride?"
"Or a race?" said Harry.
She rolled her eyes, "a horse being ridden bareback is a lot less conspicuous than a lion chasing a horse."
"Are you sure the horse would be in front?" said Harry.
She grinned, "we'll have to check that sometime, but not here."
"Alright," he said.
She looked around again, then walked over to a fallen log and transformed.
Which was when Harry understood why she'd waited until the fallen log to bring up the topic. He climbed on and she made her way back to the trail and then along it.
There were a few low branches, but she knew where they were and slowed in plenty of time, even for the one behind a blind turn.
.
Eventually, they left the woods and took a steep bank down onto a road.
"This isn't the way we came," said Harry.
She shook her head and kept moving. They passed some farmland, and a house that seemed of two minds whether it was a farmhouse or a mansion, most of the way past that hill, then past the graveyard beside it.
After a sweeping curve, and an intersection that Parvati manifestly ignored, the road ran along another hill, or rather, there was a bank on one side and a much higher bank on the other. This road had been in use and eroding for a long time.
"Padma?" bellowed a man peering at them from where he was trimming a hedge. Parvati stopped and tilted her head at him, then wheeled around, charged for the shorter bank, and leapt up onto it.
Harry kept his seat, but that had been much more exciting than he might have asked for.
When she stopped beside the man and twitched her shoulders, Harry inferred that it was time for him to dismount, and did so.
Parvati changed, "Hello Uncle Jason," she said, "This is Harry. Harry, this is Tenerus Jason Bryce, mostly known as Uncle Jason."
"I see," he said
"Pleased to meet you," said Harry.
He shook, then held on for an additional shake. The first was a standard greeting, and once to feel Harry's muscles, he looked Harry up and down, "Your father know you're here with him?"
"Yes, He and Mum sent us," said Parvati, "gave me the job of convincing Grandma to let us get engaged."
"Oh!" said Jason he smirked, "How did that go?"
"She was out," said Parvati, "So I left her a note, maybe she'll find it and deign to visit." She shrugged.
Jason frowned, "She's … been scarce recently, between you, me, and the hedge, it wouldn't surprise me if the rich man hasn't caught her eye." A jerk of his head toward the mansion made his meaning clear enough.
"Someone finally moved in?" said Parvati, "I thought it would never sell."
"Not sure when it did," said Jason, "I never saw a sign, might have gone up and come down again between the last time I saw Dad and when he had his heart attack. Anyway, chappy approached me at the funeral and asked if I was the landscaper at city hall, and did I want my Da's contract too. I said, 'yes,' we negotiated, and I moved in, plenty of space to park my trailers and work on my mowers, right? Then late in the summer, people started visiting afternoons and evenings. By and by there are wards up around the whole property, tickler ones at the edges, just like Mum's libraries have, firm ones at the wall at the bottom of the hill. They leave me alone from morning to tea, then start telling me I ought to leave and come back in the morning, don't you know. And they keep me out from tea until breakfast."
Parvati nodded.
He shrugged, "So maybe you'll have a few little step aunts and step uncles running around in a few years."
Parvati rolled her eyes. Then caught Harry's gaze, "which is it?" she said, "Go home now, or knock on the wards and see if Grandma is up there?"
"Do we have any reason to believe that 'rich man' in the mansion above the graveyard or his enforcer is likely to be any nicer to me now than last May?"
"Last May?" Parvati stared at him, then up at the mansion, and down in the general direction of the graveyard, "Probably not worth the risk," she shuddered, "I can wait for Grandma to visit."
Harry nodded.
"You have something against my employer?" said Jason.
"Not that exactly," said Harry, "but the sorts of people that put up layered wards often value their privacy."
Jason nodded, "That's valid, I suppose I don't know his name, actually."
Parvati blinked and shivered again.
.
They returned to the Patil's mudroom and dusted off and washed up, then reentered the warehouse and made their report. Except Parvati held back the rumour from Jason about a possible new liaison with 'the rich man in the mansion.' Also Harry's suspicions of who he might be.
Harry was fine with that, Jason hadn't spoken like he had proof, he spoke like he was trying to reassure Parvati that her grandmother was neither missing nor frozen stiff somewhere when she had at least several perfectly cosy dens to winter in.
And maybe reassurance that 'grandmother might have a new boyfriend' would disconcert Mr. Patil in a different way than the idea that she was the big snake you-know-who kept around bothered Harry.
But if the big snake was smart for a different reason than being a familiar … or for being a Horcrux, and if she was hanging out with 'obviously evil guy' only because she was that desperate for another parselmouth to talk to …
And did weird old wizards that were half turned into snakes seem less disturbing to be around for actual snakes? Mrs. Figg's cats definitely had reacted to him differently since he got readier access to his Lion instincts. But maybe that just followed from the fact that he could understand their body language much better and responded accordingly. And had known which angles were polite or impolite to approach from.
...-...
{End Chapter 19}
A/N: I sincerely doubt you can figure out either my religious beliefs or my religious preferences from interpolating between the various opinions espoused by my various characters, or my interpretations of other people's characters, or their cultures, or their species. (But I would similarly hate to deprive you of that pastime if that's your thing.)
Conversely, and more importantly, If I've presented your religion, or one of your favourite doctrine's poorly enough that it either offends you or makes you feel that it invites readers to straw-man your position I invite you to contact me with suggested revisions or links to additional reading material. Or both! :)
(Yes, I'll admit it. One of the reasons I hang out in the fantasy space is because comparative magical theory can be something like the junk food version of comparative religion.)
