[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl and Darsynia for beta-reading this chapter!]


Chapter 8: Mucking Great Canines and an Appetite for Human Flesh

Harry awoke to the realisation he was laying in a bed. A comfortingly familiar face he'd not seen for several years greeted him when he opened his eyes, and he had to chuckle. "So I didn't make it?" he asked the visage of Madam Pomfrey. "I'm not surprised my psychopomp looks like you."

Her eyebrows disappeared into her grey bangs. "I'm not sure if I should be honoured or insulted by that," she said. "You're fine, lad, just a case of Magical Exhaustion. However, I have a number of questions for your rebrobate old godfather, starting with how in Morgana's name you know anything about psychopomps."

"Psycho-whats now?" Sirius said from somewhere past his feet.

"That," said a wonderfully familiar Scottish brogue from somewhere near Sirius, "only emphasises how justified Madam Pomfrey's question was."

With more effort than it normally required, Harry leaned his head up from his pillow. He was somehow back in his bedroom upstairs in 12 Grimmauld Place, with Madam Pomfrey sitting in a chair to his right, Remus standing to the left of the bed, and Sirius and Professor…no, Headmistress McGonagall standing at the foot of the bed. Hermione lay to his left, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

"He's met a new witch," Remus said.

"I know what ye mean," McGonagall said. "James's grades got a guid deal better in Sixth Year. How's the lassie, Poppy?"

"I've actually never seen anyone as acutely exhausted as she was," Pomfrey said. "Most people collapse as they magically exhaust themselves, but she somehow expelled energy so quickly that she pushed herself past the normal exhaustion threshold. I'd say she would make an interesting case study, but I suspect you don't want me learning too much about whatever you got up to this morning."

"I'm afraid so," Remus said. "Parties unknown bound her core as a child and Obliviated her, and we don't want anyone finding out she's healthy until we know who's after her."

"That's awful!" Pomfrey said.

McGonagall's features tightened into a mask of thunderous rage. "How dare they bind a wee lass like that? Ah'll hunt them doon myself! Where did ye find her?"

"Camden Market," Harry replied.

"Excuse me?" McGonagall said.

"He means," Sirius said, "that she's a local girl. We've found one of your muggle-borns, Minnie."

"Morgana protect us!" McGonagall said, so shocked that she forgot to chastise Sirius. "Someone is hunting doon muggleborns!"

Pomfrey gasped. "Could it be someone at Hogwarts with access to the Book?"

McGonagall shook her head. "The Book of Admittance is only viewable by myself an' Deputy Headmaster Flitwick, and Albus before us. Once a name appears, that name cannae be altered. The only way she wuidnae hev appeared is if she was bound first."

"We'll find out what happened," Sirius said, "and we'll stop it forever."

Hermione groaned. "Where am…" she shot into a sitting position so rapidly that she would have fallen over had Remus not been there to steady her. "Where's Harry?"

"Not quite dead yet," Harry quipped.

She turned around more slowly and carefully this time. "You idiot!" She punched him in the arm with what was clearly meant to be as much strength as she could muster, but fortunately for Harry she was still recovering from Magical Exhaustion and her punch was pretty anaemic. "You could have been killed!"

Harry wasn't quite sure how to process this response. "But…you were going to–"

"I know that!" She hit him again, a bit harder this time, and Harry began planning his escape before her full strength returned. "I knew what the risks were and I accepted it when Remus said I'd gotten unlucky. I didn't want anyone else getting hurt!"

"Then maybe you should have bloody well told me–"

"Language!"

He steamrolled past her objection. "That you could die if it didn't work instead of springing it on me at the last minute!"

"What did you think we'd find in the Black Library?" she asked. "That collection is so horrifying that I'm surprised it can exist on the same island as the Health and Safety Executive. Two separate books tried to bite me, Harry. Nobody puts safe rituals in carnivorous books! In fact, who even looks at a book and says, 'I love the binding on this, but what it really needs are some mucking great canines and an appetite for human flesh'? Because I want to meet that person and shove something a great deal larger and spikier than their wand up their arse!"

The silence following her rant was finally broken by Sirius. "We're going to keep her, right?" he asked. "Because I really want to keep her."

Remus looked plaintively at McGonagall, who nodded and smacked Sirius firmly on the back of the head.

"What did you do that for?" he asked.

She ignored him. "Dearie," she said, "I understand your concern, but I'm afraid it just shows ye dinnae know with whom you're dealing here. The only way I've discovered tae keep this lad from doing something stupidly dangerous is tae keep him as far away from the temptation as humanly possible."

"Ah hah!" Harry said. "So something did happen in my Seventh Year and you just hid it from me!"

"Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, "nothing happened like that during that year."

Harry glared at her. "You were probably in on it."

She looked affronted, but before she could respond McGonagall cut in firmly, "We're not having this conversation again. Nothing awful happened during the '97-'98 school year, an' I cannae prove it to you because I cannae prove nothing! Please cease your havering aboot that nonsense an' focus on the much more serious problem at hand. Poppy, did they successfully unbind the lassie's core?"

"Yes, they did," Pomfrey said.

"In that case," McGonagall said, "we've only till her next birthday before the Hogwarts Book of Admittance lists her as a new witch in the UK . That information will be automatically duplicated to several different Ministry departments an' may put her in the sights o'those who wish her harm. If they hev political power, they may try tae use the Wizengamot tae bind her magic again."

"How could they do that?" Sirius asked. "She's committed no crime."

"I'm afraid she unwittingly has," McGonagall said. "She's clearly o'er the age o' eighteen an' has yet tae pass her Ordinary Wizarding Level, or O.W.L., tests."

"Bloody hell," Sirius said. Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry asked. "It's not her fault she never got the chance to get a magical education."

"Aye, I know that," McGonagall said, "but there's a large faction o' Pureblooded Lairds on the Wizengamot who would love any excuse tae bind a muggleborn witch."

"So this…" Hermione's voice trembled, "this was all for nothing? I'm just going to be bound again?"

"No!" Harry said. "There's got to be another way."

"How much time do we hev before her next birthday?" McGonagall said. "Maybe we cuid hev an exception made tae the law."

"The Wizengamot moves slowly," Sirius said, "especially for anything that would only benefit muggleborns. And if we reveal that we can break the bindings now, whoever did it may start killing them off, instead."

Pomfrey shuddered. "That's a good point. If only we had more time for her to study."

"That's it!" Harry said. "The problem is just that she has to study."

Sirius grinned. "Harry, my boy, you're a genius."

The others in the room shared puzzled looks. "What d'ye mean?" McGonagall asked.

Harry gestured to Hermione. "Her birthday was last week, so we have a whole year, and she's probably the brightest witch of our entire generation. If anyone can learn enough to pass at least four O.W.L.s in under a year, it's her."

"Mr. Potter, ye do realise that would require teaching her five years' worth of material in that time, right?"

Hermione paled.

"Yes, I do," Harry said defiantly. "I've heard stories of my mother, Professor, and while I'm not going to say Hermione is smarter than she was, I'm not going to say she isn't, either."

McGonagall's bushy grey eyebrows shot up and she turned to Remus.

"He's…not exaggerating, Minerva," Remus said. "This might work."

"There's no 'might' about it," Sirius said. "She can do this."

Hermione shook her head. "Maybe I could have studied like that in Uni when I was on scholarship and I didn't have to worry about living, but there's no way I–"

"Hermione," Harry said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "you just risked your life for this. I will not see you give up. Tell your advisor to go to hell, tell Mr. Folkes you won't be coming back, move in with me, and study for the next year like you've never studied before. You can do this."

She blushed. "But…I couldn't…"

"You absolutely can and you will," he said. "You'd have more space here, but the full moon is coming and it won't be safe for us. We'll move you into one of my spare bedrooms and set the other up as a Potions lab. We can make this work."

"But…but…"

"It's settled." Harry turned back to McGonagall. "By the time the Wizengamot finds out about her, she'll have already passed her O.W.L.s. That'll give us leverage to convince them to allow any others who were bound to be taught, as well, and if nothing else, she'll be safe."

"That could well work," Sirius said. "It'll be a lot easier to convince some of those fussy old bastards that muggleborns can be taught magic even into adulthood if we can already show one success."

Pomfrey shook her head. "I remembered how crazy you all were from school, but I'd forgotten how driven you were when you put your mind to something."

"Sadly," McGonagall said, "it was rarely schoolwork. I never thought I'd see the day when a Marauder plan wuid involve studying for the O.W.L.s, an' what truly shocks me is that it's somehow still as crazy as any o' their other plans."

Sirius puffed out his chest. "We do have standards to maintain," he said.

"Oh, pish posh, Lord Black," McGonagall said.

Hermione snorted with derision. "He's even less 'lordly' than Screaming Lord Sutch."

"That's as may be, dearie," McGonagall said, "but he still is one."

Sirius grinned. "I've lived in the same house with her for a full week and she doesn't believe you. I've still got it!"

"My husband," Remus said, "likes to see how long he can go before new acquaintances realise he is, in fact, a member of the Wizengamot and Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He gets quite put out if anyone figures it out in under an hour."

"If I act like a 'Lord,'" Sirius said, "then I'm becoming everything I hated as a child."

"Oh," Hermione said weakly, "he really is one. Splendid." She let herself fall backward on the bed. "Can someone tally up how rude I've been to him this week? I have a lot of making up to do."

"Don't worry," Remus said. "Can you imagine him actually wanting to be treated like that?"

"Exactly," Sirius added, "though if you want to get started on some of those grand–"

His mouth kept moving, but no sounds emerged.

"Excellent wordless Silencing Charm, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.

"He's suffering from Magical Exhaustion," Madam Pomfrey said, "so please don't encourage him."

Sirius just glared at them.

"Anyway," McGonagall said, "I dinnae believe we've been formally introduced to the lass."

"Oh, right!" Harry said as Hermione sat back up. "This is Hermione Granger, former history postgraduate student, my regular weekly lunch companion for the last two months, and unexpected witch. Hermione, this is Headmistress Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts and Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Matron."

"I'm honoured to meet you," Hermione said.

"Likewise, dear," Pomfrey said.

McGonagall nodded. "Anyone who could induce Mr. Potter tae remember the definition of a 'psychopomp' is instantly impressive, as far as I'm concerned."

"Wait, what?" Hermione turned to Harry. "Hasn't it been over three weeks since we discussed Celtic vs. Germanic psychopomps?"

He shrugged. "It stuck in my head for some reason."

Sirius waggled his eyebrows suggestively and said something, then glared at Harry when he remembered he was still silenced.

"Somehow," Harry said, "I'm still not regretting silencing you."

"I dinnae think we've missed much," McGonagall said. "Now, about Hermione's studies."

Hermione instantly became laser-focused on the older witch.

"I believe your friend Neville still has all o' his textbooks," McGonagall continued. "He wuid probably part with them and I suspect he wuid also be willing tae instruct her in Herbology at Longbottom Manor. For Potions, I'll ask Sirius's cousin Professor Tonks to provide some assistance."

"That's a good idea, thank you," Harry said.

"Every year, I collect lesson plans for Madam Marchbanks tae verify that we're teaching what she wants tae test on and that she's testing on what we're teaching," McGonagall said. "I'll duplicate what we submitted last year so ye'll have an idea of the material that could be on the test."

"Thank you!" Hermione said. "That will be incredibly helpful."

"The pleasure is all mine," McGonagall said. "I flatter myself that someone as brave as ye would have found your way into my House with Mr. Potter, as much as your scholarly inclinations might have otherwise drawn ye to Ravenclaw House. As such, I'm disappointed that I didnae get the chance tae teach ye personally and I look forward tae seeing what ye accomplish this year."

Hermione blushed. "I'll do my best."

"I know ye will, dearie," McGonagall said. "Now, Poppy and I shuid probably get back tae Hogwarts. Sirius, be a dear and show us oot and I might end the Silencing Charm your godson placed on ye."

Sirius glared at her and Harry, then silently sighed and escorted them out of the room.

Hermione put her right hand on Harry's left. "Harry, are you sure about this? I'm probably going to drive you mad within the month."

"Yes, I am," he said. "I've quite enjoyed the last week, but I do miss my own place. I think all four of us will do better living in pairs, though I hope we can keep having dinner together at least once a week."

"We'd like that," Remus said. "Hermione, I'd have said something if I thought this was a bad idea, but Harry's been in good spirits lately and we've all enjoyed spending time with you. I think this has a real chance of success."

She took a deep breath. "If you're sure, Harry, then I'd love this opportunity. I feel like I've had a whole life stolen from me and you're all helping me to steal it back."

"And that," Sirius said as he strode back into the room, unsilenced, "may be the most Marauder-like sentence I've heard from a woman since Lily died. Let's do this."

Remus smiled. "I agree that we should get started, assuming the young people are ready to get out of bed together."

Harry blushed and scrambled out of bed, and noticed Hermione doing likewise on the other side. "That wasn't our idea, you know," Harry said.

"More's the pity," Sirius said, then transformed into Padfoot to duck under Harry's silencing spell and pounced, knocking Harry into the wall behind him. Padfoot licked his face once before transforming back into a man.

"Gotcha that time, Pup," Sirius said. "I've finally noticed that you tend to aim at the chest, so that makes it easier to duck your spells."

"It's a fair cop." Harry wiped dog slobber off his cheek with his sleeve. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good Lord, are they fast!" Hermione said.

Remus patted her on the shoulder. "Sirius used to be an Auror, too, during the last war. This is how they keep each other in shape."

"More or less, anyway." Sirius patted his gut. "I still need to work out more."

"Um…could we meet you downstairs?" Hermione asked. "I'd like to talk with Harry about something first."

Remus nodded. "Take all the time you need," he said, and followed his husband downstairs.

As soon as Remus shut the door behind him, Hermione cleared her throat. "Harry," she said, her eyes drifting anywhere in the room but toward him, "my nightmares for the rest of my life are going to be of you cutting your palm and dying in front of me, and I'll live every day knowing I have you to thank for both my nightmares and my life. Why?"

Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I wouldn't have minded just a 'thank you,' but I suppose I can't blame you for being horrified. I guess I would have been if Ginny had grazed her arm on the basilisk fang trying to cure me."

Her eyes snapped up to his. "Wait, what?"

"It's a long story," Harry said.

"No, no, no!" Hermione stalked around the bed and toward him as she spoke. "That was not how this conversation was supposed to go. I was supposed to yell at you for your recklessness and try to sort out why on Earth you would do that for me. When I said I was mad at you for nearly making your own death the last thing I ever saw, I did not want you to put that in the context of your own experiences to try to empathise because I don't want you to have those experiences. No one should have those experiences!"

Harry blinked. "I…um…have never been yelled at for Active Listening before."

By then she was close enough to throw her arms around him and pull him into a hug. "Oh, Harry. I just don't want you to die. You've given more than anyone could have a right to ask of you, especially me."

He hugged her back and took a moment to enjoy the tactile sensations of her continued life: the warmth of her embrace, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, and the pounding of her heart in her veins. "Weeks ago," he said, "while we were having lunch, I started idly thinking how brilliant it would have been to have you in my classes at Hogwarts, and how it wasn't fair that some of the stupidest people I've ever met have magic and you didn't. You did, though, and you wanted it so badly that you spent your life finding impossible knowledge of it and then cracked open a core binding because your magic is so irrepressibly a part of you that you wouldn't let anything keep it down forever. At first, I was thrilled, but the more I thought about it, the more angry I got that someone had stolen you from my life and the lives of all of my friends at school. That's why I was so tempted to trigger your wards and beat the hell out of whoever showed up. So, I just couldn't let you…let the ritual fail."

Hermione burst into tears.

"Um…I'm sorry?" Harry had a poor record handling crying witches.

"I'm not mad," Hermione said after a moment. "It's just that my whole life is in the process of coming apart, people are hunting me down, I've had to throw away all of my research because I was somehow too right, and you're standing there telling me I'm brilliant. I don't feel brilliant right now. I feel lost, confused, and completely out of my depth, and I'm worried you're going to realise I'm a fraud and kick me to the curb."

That was a lot to process, but Hermione didn't seem to be in a hurry for a response so Harry took his time and thought about it. How could she think she wasn't a genius? She might as well be in the dictionary next to the word. He didn't know how to convince her she was wrong about herself, but there was another way to approach the problem…

"Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes?" She sniffled a bit.

"Do you really think I would kick you out with nothing because you didn't pass a test?"

There was a pause before she responded, in a small voice muffled by his shirt, "No."

"Good," he said. "Are you ready to go downstairs now?"

"I must look an absolute fright," she said.

"You can hit the loo before we go," Harry said. "I'll wait here."

She didn't let go of him.

"I'll check it for spiders first."

"Thank you," she mumbled.