A funeral pall hung over the occupants in an otherwise indistinguishable compartment on the Hogwarts' Express. It could not contain the stench of fear that leaked through its cracks and crevices. A Black rider on a pale horse stalked them, taking away, piece by piece, what was supposed to have been a life of privilege and power. In just a matter of months, their lives had been completely upended by not war, not famine, not pestilence, but retribution.
Each had a loved one or parent languishing in St. Mungo's; only the draught of living death stood between them and insanity by unimaginable agony. The children realized that the respite was temporary; once the Ministry decided to revive the victims, it was all but certain that they were doomed to a short trial at the Wizengamot and a trip beyond the Veil. The laws that had previously shielded their ilk had been repealed. To invoke Imperious Defense now would only bring their fate before judgement could be rendered formally.
Under ordinary circumstances, the carriage would have been teeming with their ilk. Those who could, however, had already fled beyond the reach of the Wizengamot. Despite having family fortunes frozen for surety, the fortunate ones like the Crabbes had fled abroad to the sanctuary of families or friends. Those like the Goyles, however, were trapped, forced to await their fate at the hands of what passed for justice. Thus, Gregory was the only bodyguard for Draco as they waited in the compartment with their fellow Slytherins. In truth, most aboard the train had been slightly surprised when the blonde Malfoy scion had boarded the train; convention wisdom had dictated that he would have sailed to fairer waters.
With no desire for conversation, Draco reminisced on the conversation that had compelled him to return to what was sure to be a living nightmare at Hogwarts.
[Flashback]
It had been while he and his mother were having tea late one day when she had broached the subject.
"Draco," Narcissa Malfoy had said after setting down her teacup., "You shall be returning to Hogwarts to finish your schooling."
"I shall be transferring to Durmstrang," Draco had responded without hesitation.
"That is not within the realm of possibility," his mother had replied. "Our monies are tied up in litigation leaving you naught but a Ministry's 'reasonable stipend' to survive upon."
"The jewelry you brought . . ." Draco had reminded her.
". . . will allow us to live a comfortable life," his mother had finished for him. "Those funds are not, however, to be wasted, seeing as your Hogwarts education has already been paid in its entirety."
"They will accept a promissory note to be paid upon my seventeenth birthday," Draco had stated as fact. "The Ministry cannot keep my inheritance from me when the time comes."
His mother had sighed before fixing him with a withering gaze. "Draco, you cannot continue acting as an impudent child, nor can you ignore facts that are not to your liking. Our situation is most dire, and you need to internalize just how bad off we are. While we had enjoyed high social standing back home, on the continent, that is simply not the case. The name 'Malfoy' has already gained some stigma from the actions of your ancestors; now, with the addition of 'line thief', you'll find naught but tepid reception at best."
Draco had sullenly looked down at his own teacup. "It's not fair."
"Draco!" his mother had snapped. "This is an adult conversation. The words 'it's not fair' have no place in it." She had sighed and calmed herself with a sip of tea before continuing. "With your current attitude, I dread sending you back. However, options are slim. As much as I'd prefer to homeschool you . . ." She had trailed off, not finishing the sentiment.
"I would prefer to be home schooled," Draco had gritted out through his teeth, indignant over the scorn shown to his attitude.
"You are not helping!" his mother had snapped before sighing and taking another sip from her tea. "Magic does not care what the French consider illegal," she had said after regaining her bearing. "Right now, the only reason I am able to resist the pull is due to my Black heritage. That pillar would be ripped from me should Sirius choose to cast us from the family. If that were to happen, you would become the ward of Arthur Weasley, dependent on his mercy."
"Father would never have allowed that to happen," Draco had fiercely stated.
"Your father had not allowed for your godfather and the next five people in line for your custody to be incapacitated," his mother had reminded him. "Draco, I, myself, am having a hard time believing how far we have fallen in such a short span, but we must come to terms with it. I find myself lying awake at night, hoping and praying that Sirius just forgets about us. I wish for nothing more than for us to curl up into a ball, left to fade into the background. I wish to flee to the Americas or Australia. I wish most fervently for the target to be off our backs."
Draco had scowled at his tea. "Why can't we go?" he had asked.
"The influence of my lineage wanes with distance," his mother had answered. "I would be drawn back when the compulsions of ownership overrode my own desires."
Draco had continued scowling. "I do not wish to go back."
"Understanding has taken root, yet your stubbornness refuses to release its grasp," his mother had commented. "Barring the fact that I may be snatched away at any moment, homeschooling is not an option because of the local climate. I had underestimated just how much vitriol the name 'Malfoy' generates in this region. Your protracted presence would do naught but antagonize those whose hospitality we require. They may despise the owning of women but I fear they dislike the line of Malfoy even more. We are one bad impression away from being chucked back over the channel."
"I still think Durmstrang would be the better option," Draco had insisted.
"I see it is time to remove the sugar coating." His mother had taken another sip. "Durmstrang is filled with individuals who take blood status extremely seriously - the very reason, no doubt, you wish to attend in the first place. However, you are forgetting that your own status has changed. You are now the son of a line thief, a thief who made an attempt on a very old and influential house. Whatever reception you imagined for yourself among the students of that institution, you are clearly mistaken. They would be sending your body back to me within a week owing solely to the principle of the matter."
"Surely, they wouldn't," Draco had protested.
"It is a certainty that they would," his mother had countered. "The Blacks have many friends, many who owe debts and favors. There are those who would see ending the Malfoy line as a means to repay those debts. With the sugar remaining off, you must return to Hogwarts because it is only there that you can beg for your life. We have few friends and no allies remaining. For far too many, we are more valuable dead than alive. You were to be the benefactor of line theft. Without the express forgiveness of Lord Black, you will not live to see your seventeenth birthday."
Draco had stopped scowling at this as tears began to form in his eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, my son," his mother had said sharply. "I can no longer protect you, nor can your father or his friends. What you must do is find Lord Black and beg for his mercy. If he demands magical oaths in return, you shall make those oaths. If he wishes to marry you off as the submissive partner to a muggleborn, then she shall be your wife. You must surrender whatever you feel your life is worth, for surely that is what is at stake."
"My honor!" Draco had protested.
"You have none! You are the son of a line thief!" his mother had snapped. "All you have left is your life. Take care and heed my words, or you will lose that as well."
[/Flashback]
Draco clenched his hands into fists that bled where his nails dug into his palms, despondent over the mere memory of that conversation. He desperately wanted to lash out at the ones responsible for his current predicament, a luxury his mother had expressly forbidden him from indulging. While it may give him a fraction of the appeasement his soul required, it would undoubtedly be seen by others as him lashing out at the victims of his father's crimes. He was also forbidden from seeking revenge in any manner, no matter how sneaky and cunning his plans might be. Even a hint of malfeasance would mean no forgiveness from Lord Black and was thus a death sentence.
The thought of debasing himself to that blood traitor infuriated the scion of what was House Malfoy. In a like manner, having to make nice with Potter made him grind his teeth. How was he to make nice with someone who refused to shake his hand - someone who never once acknowledged the superiority of his breeding? Someone who, even now, unknowingly held Draco's life in their grasp?
Everything his father had stood for now lay in ruins - all because Black hadn't stayed in prison, where he belonged.
It wasn't long after the children had finished recounting their summer before Remus dispelled the privacy wards on the compartment. "If I keep these up for much longer, the trolley will go by without you having a chance to buy lunch," he said as the background din returned.
"No worries," Hermione said. "Mum made us some proper meals, and Dora put them under both heating and stasis charms."
"Oh?" Luna perked up. "What did you bring?"
"What didn't I bring?" Hermione smiled. "When she was told it was possible to make meals last practically forever, Mum went wild. There are two full shelves in my new trunk devoted to fully cooked meals. I swear she had to be channeling Ron's mum for a good while there."
"That's what you were up to yesterday?" Harry asked.
"No." Hermione wilted. "They sent me off to read my books after the first five minutes - wouldn't let me help no matter how many times I offered."
"Let me guess," Remus jokingly said. "You're the type who can burn cold cereal."
Hermione crossed her arms and huffed. "It only happened that one time. And who told you about that?"
Wincing Harry made a note to be the one to do the future cooking.
"You're joking." Remus fixed the girl with a bewildered look.
Hermione continued scowling for a few seconds before a grin crept across her face.
"I knew it." Remus chuckled. "No one can burn cold cereal."
"Of course, you can't," Hermione said. "Once it goes up in flames, you can't call it cold anymore - burnt, yes, but not cold."
"Um, Harry," Remus said, "I'm not sure whether your wife has a wicked sense of humor or you should seriously consider banning her from the kitchen for life."
"Possibly both," Luna added.
"Probably both," Harry agreed.
"I'll have you know, I'm perfectly fine in the kitchen." Hermione huffed before adding, "Mostly."
"Mostly?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I may be forbidden from touching the blender," Hermione admitted.
"There's a story there," Remus stated.
"Or the bread maker," Hermione added.
"Oh?" Luna hummed.
"Despite how innocent and small a teaspoon looks, you really don't need more yeast than that," Hermione clarified.
"Oh!" Harry groaned.
"I like fluffy bread," Hermione defended.
"How fluffy?" Remus asked.
"Two tablespoons fluffy." Hermione shrugged.
"That probably wasn't too bad," Harry said reassuringly. "There is only so much yeast can accomplish."
"Okay. Okay. Three."
"Oh Hermione," Luna said.
"And… there may have been some accidental magic involved." Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Now that I think of it, there was definitely accidental magic involved."
"I hesitate to ask. How did that turn out?" Remus did his best to hide his smile.
"Well," Hermione said, "I have several things to say in my defense. First of all, I was young. Secondly, my mother had the recipe memorized; so, it looked like she was adding ingredients willy nilly and getting perfect bread every time. And thirdly, Mum got a remodeled kitchen and a new bread machine from the deal - which, incidentally, I am not allowed to touch, despite learning my lesson."
"The kitchen or the bread maker?" asked Remus.
"Yes," said Hermoine.
"Did you really?" Harry asked. "Learn your lesson, I mean."
"Why do you think I'm so meticulous in potions?" Hermione replied. "Recipes are there for a reason, and we should use them."
"That actually explains a lot," Harry admitted.
"So," Luna ventured, "this blender thing you mentioned, why are you banned from that?"
"Lids are there for a reason, and we should use them." Hermione shrugged.
"I'm surprised they let you use the microwave," Harry said.
"IT. IS. NOT. MY. FAULT. THAT. ALUMINUM. FOIL. LOOKS. PRETTY. IN. THE. MICROWAVE," Hermione said through gritted teeth.
"Your mum got a new microwave, too. Didn't she?" Harry said.
"Can we change the subject?" Hermione pleaded.
Remus looked to Harry. "Bans are there for a reason, and you should use them."
Hermione pouted.
The bushy-haired girl was still pouting when the door to the compartment slid open. Instead of their friend Ron or the annual appearance of Malfoy, the occupants were treated to the sight of a blonde girl. Said blonde girl took one look at the way Hermione and Luna were draped over Harry before letting a goofy grin dominate her face. "Hermione," she said, holding up a finger and giving a come-hither gesture. "Come here."
"Lavender?" Hermione said from her half of Harry. "What do you want?"
"Come here," Lavender repeated, again waggling her finger while grinning madly.
While she was doing that, Parvati stuck her head around her friend and gasped when she saw the scene before her.
"Hello, Parvati, Lavender," Harry greeted. "Why don't you come in? There's room."
"Later, Harry," Lavender said. "Hermione, come here."
"We need to talk," Parvati added with a grin of her own.
Hermione sighed as she stood up. "I'd better go and see what they want. Be back in a bit." That was as far as she got before she had wandered into Lavender's range. With an "eep", she was dragged from the compartment and the door was slammed behind her.
"Lavender and Parvati?" Luna asked as she snuggled closer to Harry.
"Yup." Harry nodded. "They are in my and Hermione's year. They share a dorm with her."
"Those are the two you told Hermione's father would be her fault if they showed up?" Luna asked.
"Umm . . ." Harry's gaze shot toward the door. "Maybe I should go after them."
"Then, it'll be your fault." Luna didn't let go.
Harry sighed and decided he was most likely better off spending time cuddling with the blonde as opposed to putting his foot in his mouth around the other girls. Besides, Hermione knew better . . . he hoped.
Lavender dragged Hermione by her hand, glancing into compartments as they made their way down the train car. Spotting a compartment with three first-year girls, she opened the door and yanked Hermione inside, followed closely by Parvati. "Hello," she said to the current tenants. "Mind if we have a quick conversation in here? Promise we won't be too much of a bother."
The three girls looked at her with wide eyes as they nodded at the apparently crazy upperclassman. Meanwhile, Parvati closed the door behind herself.
"So." Lavender turned to face Hermione. "Is it true?"
"Is what true?" Hermione asked.
"The rumors," Lavender clarified.
"What rumors?" Hermione asked.
Parvati huffed and asked, "Hermione, what is your full name?"
"What is . . . oh, yes, that rumor is true." Mrs. Potter frowned as the other two squealed and pronked. "We're not three minutes into our first conversation of the year, and you've already made us fail the Bechdel test."
"The what now?" Lavender asked.
"It's an evaluation applied to movies and literature," Hermione started.
"What's a movie?" Parvati interrupted.
Hermione sighed. "Second time today where a lack of movie knowledge comes and bites me on the rear." She looked at each year mate in turn. "Let's stick with literature. The Bechdel test is a stipulation where a story must contain at least two named female characters who talk to each other about something other than boys."
Lavender looked at Hermione, blinking owlishly before addressing the firsties in the compartment. "What are your names?" she demanded.
"Polly."
"Hazel."
"Raelyn."
"There." Lavender turned back to Hermione. "The compartment has six females with six different names, which you now know. Happy?"
"That's not the point I was trying to make," Hermione said. "We've barely said 'hello' and you want to start interrogating me over a boy. In fact, I'm pretty sure you skipped the 'hello' altogether."
"Hermione," Parvati said. "You were using Harry Potter as a piece of furniture. If you think this conversation is going to be about anything other than boys, you're not as smart as everyone makes you out to be."
"Can't I at least get a 'hello, how was your summer?' first?"
"Not when the first thing I see is you molded so close to Harry that I couldn't fit so much as a blade of grass between the two of you," Parvati said.
"You're Harry Potter's girlfriend?" asked Raelyn excitedly. "What's he like?"
"Is he a good kisser?" Polly asked.
"Have you kissed him?" Hazel inquired.
Hermione looked imploringly at the ceiling. "If this were a chapter in a book, it would be titled 'How to Fail the Bechdel Test with Three Simple Sentences.'"
"Can we stop talking about tests? Classes haven't even started yet," Lavender said. "We want details."
"We want to know who that blonde sharing your cushion was," Parvati added. "I've seen her around the castle, but her name eludes me."
"You still haven't told us if you are Harry Potter's girlfriend." Hazel spoke up. "And have you kissed him?"
"Failed the test, burnt the parchment, and are currently stomping the ashes into the ground," Hermione commented.
"So, have you kissed him?" Parvati slyly asked.
"Parv, be serious," Lavender said. "She somehow managed to get herself married to him. She's going to be telling us a whole lot more than how he kisses."
"I am?" Hermione asked but was drowned out as the three firsties all exclaimed, "You're Harry Potter's wife?!"
"Let's start with that. How'd you manage to marry him so quickly?" Parvati asked.
"Ancient Chinese secret," Hermione answered.
"What? You used ancient Chinese magic to snag him?" Lavander gasped.
"No, no," Hermione said. "I've been throwing out quotes that nobody gets, all day. I figured what's one more?"
"Quote?" Parvati said. "From who?"
Hermione shrugged. "Don't know. My parents often use it when I ask a question they don't want to answer. They think it's funny; so, why not?"
"Hermione Granger . . . er . . . Potter doesn't know something. That's the biggest shock of the day," Lavender said.
"You have no idea how many books I've hunted through to figure out where that came from," Hermione said sadly. "It's becoming one of my pet peeves."
"I think my father has some ancient Chinese spell books in our library," Parvati offered. "Maybe you could find the answer in one of them."
"I hardly think . . . you know, that's not a half-bad idea," Hermione said.
"You can read Chinese?" Lavender asked.
"I'm sure I can get an English/Chinese dictionary." Hermione shrugged. "Though, with the number of characters in their language, I'm also sure it would be an undertaking."
"You're getting off topic," Hazel complained. "We want to hear about Harry Potter."
"My father taught me a charm for lighting the fireplace," Raelyn said. "I'm not so good at it, but I'm willing to try burning your test again."
"Thanks for the reminder," Lavender said. "So, spill."
"Yeah, who's the blonde?" Parvati prompted.
"That would be Luna," Hermione said. "You'll love her once you get used to the headaches she causes every time she opens her mouth."
"She causes headaches?" Lavender blinked in surprise.
"I'm not absolutely positive, but I think I may have, possibly, slightly, lost an argument or two against her." Hermione grimaced. "Either that, or the aspirin didn't kick in fast enough."
"Aspirin?"
"Muggle headache potion in the form of a pill."
"Pill?"
"Never mind."
"So, you don't like her?" Hazel asked excitedly. "And you have to share Harry Potter with her?"
"I like her a lot," Hermione said, "despite her knack for making me doubt my own sanity."
"Why are you letting her hang on Harry?" Lavender demanded.
Hermione shrugged. "She is his consort. She has as much right to it as I do."
"Consort?" Parvati perked up. "You got Harry a consort?"
"Me?" Hermione jolted. "Why would you think I was the one who got him a consort?"
"We know you, and we know Harry," Lavender said. "There is no way that boy, who never so much as squeaks at another girl besides you, unless it's school related, would even think of getting a consort if it in any way went against your wishes."
"Besides," Parvati said casually, "we share a bathroom with you. We've seen how you look at us when we exit the showers."
"What?" Hermione blushed. "I would never!"
Parvati laughed as Lavender asked, "So, are you telling us it wasn't you who arranged for Harry to have a consort?"
Hermione stared off into space for a second. "Would you believe me if I said 'no'? Anything approaching a 'yes' would only be due to a technicality."
"Are you willing to swear on your magic that you didn't have a hand in getting Harry a consort?" Lavender asked.
"I'm not risking my magic over something so trivial."
"Because you'd be lying." Parvati nodded. "So, what are you looking for in consorts?"
"What?" Hermione exclaimed.
"Don't act so surprised," Lavender said. "We were talking, heck making plans of going down this path. You are literally the only girl in the school who can get within five feet of him without having him tense up."
"What?" Hermione repeated.
"Of course, our first hang up was getting you to realize how much he cares for you. Then we'd have to prove that we'd make excellent consorts," Parvati said.
"What!"
"We never thought that there would be any way you'd land him by yourself so quickly," Lavender said.
"We thought we had a couple years to get on your good side," Parvati admitted.
"Time enough to help you get your head out of the books and start taking some pride in your appearance," Lavender said.
"I've got to admit, you surprised us," Parvati tilted her head slightly.
"You want to share Harry with me?" Hermione gasped.
"Better a slice of cheesecake than a whole cupcake," Lavender said. "And, you've got some exceptionally mouthwatering cheesecake, cherries on top and all."
"You're serious," Hermione accused.
"Of course, we are," Parvati said. "Like we said, we were already making plans along these lines. Maybe more fantasy than reality, but don't think we're going to pass on the opportunity presenting itself. You are the only inroad to Harry Potter, and that avenue is going to close off sooner rather than later. If we don't act now, we lose out completely."
Hermione took a deep breath to center herself. "I promised Harry I wasn't going to try to convince you two to join."
"Wait," Parvati said, "you were considering us already?"
"Yes!" Lavender clapped her hands together while bouncing in place.
"Not exactly?" Hermione hedged. "There may have been some joking along those lines. Well, to be honest, in the end we all agreed it was joking."
"So, we have your permission to get Harry used to touching us?" Parvati asked. "By the way he seems comfortable around Luna; I'm guessing that won't be as difficult as it would have been at the end of the year."
"I can't believe this is happening," Hermione said.
"As long as it's happening." Lavender smiled.
"Dora is going to kill me."
"Who's Dora?" Parvati asked.
"Harry's other wife," Hermione answered.
Lavender frowned. "He has two wives? Oh well, we'll make due."
"Do you realize what you are asking to get yourselves into?" Hermione prompted.
Her two roommates smiled back at her in answer.
With Luna snuggled into his side, Harry was more than half asleep when the door to the compartment next opened. Expecting to see Malfoy putting in his annual appearance, he was surprised when three first-year girls filed in. Noticing Hermione right behind them, he looked curiously at the brown-haired girl who was climbing onto the bench, next to Remus.
"We wouldn't miss this show for the world," the small girl informed him as she found her seat.
Harry looked at the girl, then at the doorway where Hermione was standing, smiling. In confusion, he looked back at the girl as her friend found a seat next to her. Absently, he lifted his arm slightly for Hermione to slide into her own snuggle spot opposite Luna. Soon the third firstie filled out the row. Then, he couldn't help but grin when, finding no seating for herself, Hermione lifted the middle girl, took the seat and settled the girl onto her lap.
. . .
. . .
. . .
One and one were not equaling two.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Puzzled, Harry looked at the Hermione snuggling into his side only to find Lavender making herself comfortable. "Finally," the girl murmured contentedly.
Harry's head snapped up as he shot Hermione a questioning look, only to find his wife grinning back at him. He opened his mouth to ask questions when Parvati sprawled herself across his lap, hugging both Luna and him in the process.
Without opening her eyes, Luna said, "Professor Lupin, you owe me two sickles,"
Remus glanced at Luna and then looked Harry straight in the eyes. "Seriously, Harry, your wife is your wingman?"
"One of us has to be the aggressor in our relationships," Hermione said.
"You do realize that sentence doesn't traditionally end in an 's'," Remus responded.
"Hermione, you promised!" Harry managed to get out.
"Believe it or not, I did not break any promises." Hermione continued smiling.
"Dora is going to throw a fit," Harry objected.
"She'll get over it," Hermione said. "I'll take the blame."
"Besides, she's beginning to understand the joys of sharing." Luna still hadn't bothered to open her eyes.
"You're tossing five new girls at him, hoping for the best," Remus said. "Are you trying to break him? Through either bliss or stress, you're well on your way."
"Five girls?" Hermione looked around the carpet. "Oh, no, these three are just here because they want to watch."
"Hermione, you truly are a pervert. I'm happy you've found some other perverts to be friends with," Luna said.
"Ahh . . . No . . ." Hermione sputtered. "Luna!"
"If I have to wait a year, they have to wait two," Luna said firmly.
Meanwhile, Harry became aware that the girl in his lap was quietly sobbing. "Parvati," he cautiously asked, "what's wrong?"
There was another sob before Parvati replied, "I'm so happy!" With another sob, she declared, "I can't believe how happy I am."
This time the look Harry shot Hermione was one of panic.
"Happy tears." Hermione said, a new smile gracing her lips. "This was the right decision after all."
"Don't you think you're going overboard?" Remus asked Hermione. "Aren't you jealous?"
Hermione shook her head. "Harry deserves all of the love I can get for him. He's been conditioned to think he doesn't deserve it, but this is the perfect therapy to help him realize the flaws in that worldview."
"Lust is not love," Remus chided.
"True, but love is not devoid of lust. Lust is but a layer of icing on the moist cake of love," Hermione said.
"Hey!" Lavender protested. "No stealing desert metaphors."
Parvati added, "Let not the sands of time get in your cake."
Without warning, the door of the compartment slid open yet again as Ron called out, "There you are! If I hadn't seen Hermione through the space not covered by the shades . . ." He stopped mid-sentence when his mind caught up with what he was seeing. "Blimey," he exclaimed as a pair of chocolate-skinned girls looked around him. "We'll just catch up later. We will." He started to slide the door shut but stopped half way. "Mate," he said. "You need to impose some kind of age limit. Pity they thought to include a chaperone." With that, the door shut all the way.
The night air was cool when the children disembarked from the train. There was the customary hustle and bustle of children as they made their way toward the awaiting carriages. Standing on the platform itself was a pink-haired woman who was obviously looking for specific students among the throng. Anyone paying attention would have been able to pinpoint the second she spotted them as it was marked by the mischievous smile falling off her face. Harry had spotted her first; so, he dug up his Gryffindor courage before walking up to her with a girl on each arm.
Before he could say a word, Dora beat him to the punch. "One train ride. I let you out of my sight for one train ride."
Harry smiled wanly as Luna and Hermione came to stand next to the girls holding onto his arms. "Hello Dora. What are you doing here?"
"I'm your wife, I'm unemployed, and the school has quarters for married couples. Why wouldn't I be here?" Dora said. "Honestly, Harry, one train ride."
"Hello, you must be Harry's other wife," the Indian girl on Harry's right said. "We are so happy to meet you. We look forward to being part of your family. My name is Parvati Patil, and this is Lavender Brown."
"Lavender and Parvati? Hermione!" Dora snapped.
"I broke no promises," Hermione defended. "At no point did I attempt to convince them to join."
Dora placed her hand on her forehead. "Right. Right. You did say you wanted this. I should have expected you to set it up without telling yourself."
"Actually, this falls under the 'happy accident' heading," Hermione countered.
Dora groaned. "So, consorts?" she asked.
"Actually, no contracts have been drawn up or signed," Luna said.
"Yet," Hermione added.
"Can either of you call yourself a decent cook?" Dora changed the subject. "I can barely boil water, and Hermione is straight up banned from the kitchen."
"Hey!" Hermione objected. "Since when?"
"Since yesterday," Dora said. "I'm positive it won't take long to get the others to agree."
"I was kind of headed in that direction already," Harry admitted.
"There you are, Master," Hestia said, rushing up to the group standing around.
"We were looking all over for you, Master," Flora added as she joined her sister.
"We await your pleasure, Master," Hestia said with a curtsey mirrored by Flora.
"Harry," Dora asked with her hand still on her forehead, "why have the twins gone all passive-aggressive?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked the girls.
"Our master can do no wrong," Flora said.
"Though, perhaps Master had forgotten that most of our former friends were vetted and approved of by our parents," Hestia said.
"Master may perhaps recall commanding us to sit with our friends and have fun," Flora said.
"When Master is invited to the headmistress' office may we suggest you remind her that we did not cast first?" Hestia said.
"Master may also want to remind her that we did not cast hardest," Flora said.
"Nor darkest," Hestia added.
"But we did cast last," Flora said.
"The headmistress may wish for Master to pay for the damages," Hestia said.
"If so, Master should remind her that we are entitled to act in self-defense, and all penalties should be applied to the aggressors." Flora said.
"Master should also suggest that his humble servants are willing and able to submit their memories of the encounter," Hestia finished.
"Master may also wish to visit the remaining aggressors in the infirmary and set some boundaries," Flora suggested.
"And perhaps Master will offer condolences to the families of the aggressors who didn't make it that far," Hestia said.
"Were you hurt?" Harry asked as he pulled free of the two girls holding onto him. "Were you hit?"
"This one had a brief encounter with the cruciatus curse, Master," Hestia said.
"Our mother has done worse to us on her better mornings, Master," Flora assured him.
"They are scraping the one who cast it off the ceiling, Master," Hestia also assured him.
"And on that note," Dora interrupted, "let's head up to the castle before someone gets it in their mind to try for a little revenge." With that, she made a beeline for the nearest carriage. Luna ran ahead to spend some time petting thin air. Hermione was about to say something about that when Dora also stopped to pat something affectionately before getting in the carriage.
Looking at the still empty air that held something pettable, Harry sat down next to Dora with Hermione next to him. Flora, Lavender, Parvati, and Hestia squeezed onto the opposite bench while Dora pulled Luna onto her lap. As soon as they were all seated, the carriage started to move.
"Okay, first thing's first," Dora said. "Harry, why did you send the twins to sit with your enemies?"
"I'm sorry. I thought they would want to spend some time with their friends since they haven't seen them all summer."
"I get it," Dora said. "You want to do right by them, and you are kicking yourself for doing a horrible job. You are afraid of taking advantage of them. Listen, they can't tell you when they don't want to do something, and they can't go against your commands. They can however be commanded to tell me or one of the other girls how they really feel about things."
"That'll work?" Harry asked. "It's that simple?"
"That and repeat after me," Dora said "I, Harry Potter, command you henceforth to never take anything I say as a command unless I preface it with pick a phrase."
"Clever," Harry said before turning to the twins. "I, Harry Potter, command you henceforth to never take anything I say as a command unless I preface it with pick a phrase."
"Ah!" said Hermione lifting a hand slightly.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Never mind," Hermione said as the other girls in the carriage giggled. "It'll still work."
"Oh." Harry deflated. "You wanted me to pick a phrase for myself."
"Silly Harry," Lavender said.
"Trix are for kids," Hermione finished for her.
"Hermione," Dora berated as Lavender and Parvati looked at her weirdly.
"Silly rabbit," Hestia said, "commercials are for people with access to a telly."
"We watched a lot of telly over the summer," Luna said. "We got the joke this time."
"Finally!" Hermione said happily.
"Second order of business," Dora said. "This is it. Period."
"What?" Harry asked.
"This is it," Dora repeated. "No more girls. If you are offered another, politely decline and state you have more than you can handle already."
"I wasn't exactly planning on having this many to begin with," Harry said defensively.
"That directive was more for Hermione than you," Dora said.
"Hey!" Hermione complained.
"Are you counting the three who need to grow up some first?" Luna asked.
"What?!" Dora asked.
"The three first-years," Luna said. "They need to wait two years since I have to wait one."
"One train ride, Harry. One bloody train ride," Dora said through gritted teeth.
"Luna, I told you they just wanted to watch," Hermione said.
"As I said, two years," Luna responded.
"I see what you meant by the aspirin," Parvati said.
"She is very lovable," Lavender agreed.
A/N :::::
Well, what can I say about this chapter? The first part went according to plan… Mostly… I did not, however stick the landing. And the middle… Well, the first part went according to plan. I mean just look at this outline. Three girls, I had planned for three girls. That's it. I have no idea what Lavender and Parvati were thinking. Seriously, what's wrong with those girls? Don't they know how to follow an outline? You do realize, Hermione only said "What?" two times? The third time was the fourth wall cracking slightly.
See that corner? I've written myself into it yet again.