The rise of the Black Rod
Chapter Eight: End of term
Harry woke up feeling tired. He lay in bed, in his side, one arm over Daphne, and contemplated putting his spectacles on.
"Harry?" asked Daphne softly. "You awake?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you move your arm – my bladder's full." asked Daphne. Harry pulled his arm off Daphne's waist. Daphne sat up and moved to the side of the bed. Harry reached over and fumbled for his glasses for a moment, then found them. Daphne was padding off to the ensuite. Harry yawned again, and scratched his chin. His stubbled chin. He got to the ensuite to find Daphne slumped on the loo.
"Love," he mumbled, and went to the right-hand sink, cleaned his teeth and started getting ready to shave.
"Leave the flannel and soap," yawned Daphne. "My legs are a disgrace."
Harry finished shaving and eyed his reflection – he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Or was a particularly well-preserved inferi.
He turned and walked to the huge shower, turned it on and lost himself staring at the falling water.
The loo flushed, and from the noise behind him, presumably Daphne had washed her hands.
"You gonna use that?" she asked.
"Umm," said Harry. Daphne pushed past him, and turned the taps off.
"Bath," she said, and worked the wall-mounted controls on the massive sunken bathtub. With a hiss of water, the bath filled rapidly, and Harry found himself staring at the drips coming off the shower head.
...
"What are you looking at?" asked Daphne.
"I've no idea," admitted Harry, frowning. "I'm so tired."
"And you're not even breast-feeding," said Daphne. "Get the bath salts?"
Harry shook his head, and lurched to the cabinet by the handbasins, found the big blue jar, and carried it over to Daphne. She was fiddling with the taps, dipping a toe in the water.
Daphne flung in a handful, and handed Harry the jar.
"You okay?" asked Harry.
"Tired. I just woke up, and I'm tired."
"We've got seven infants," said Harry. "I guess it um…"
"Yeah," said Daphne, swishing her foot in the bathwater. "Okay –we're having a bath."
"We're?" asked Harry.
"You did the midnight feeding – you were staring at the shower for ten minutes – we're having a bath."
"I'm too tired for that," said Harry.
"Trust me, we're too tired," said Daphne, dropping her nightgown to the floor and stepping into the massive bath. Harry blinked – crikey – put the jar away, stripped off his pyjamas and took the steps down into the bath. The sort-of bench seat was great to lean back on, thought Harry – his glasses briefly steaming up, then the charms cleaning them off.
Daphne floated round and lay against his back, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"I like this bath," said Daphne, yawning, "we should soak."
"Mmm," said Harry, closing his eyes.
...
"Mister Potter! Mister Potter!" someone called out, and Harry woke with a start. Daphne lay on his chest, and the bath was still warm.
"Ugh" groaned Daphne "just ten more minutes mummy," she muttered.
Harry held in a snort, and softly said "Wake up dear."
Daphne's head lifted a bit, and she sighed "Had a nap" she said sleepily.
"What is it!" Harry called out.
"You're late for breakfast, sir!" said Mrs Carruthers, his secretary from out in the bedroom.
"Sorry sleeping in!" said Harry, "be down in a while."
"In a while?" asked Daphne quietly.
"We need to wash." said Harry.
Daphne stood up in the bath, and reached out and found her nightgown, and retrieved her wand. With a few flicks, she'd summoned the shaving stuff, warmed it, and then cast a privacy charm.
"Privacy charm?"
"Quick furtive shag before breakfast?" asked Daphne.
"I suppose," said Harry. "Aren't you tired?"
"Yes, but my extremely sexy husband is naked in the bath with me." said Daphne "I'm surprised I didn't wake up with … things happening."
"I was asleep. I suggest that this bath isn't just for shagging in – it's also for tired parents to sleep in."
"The buoyancy is very comfy" said Daphne.
"And bath-shagging's ultimately uncomfortable."
"There's a waterproof lube charm in Magics by a lady" said Daphne.
"Of course there is," said Harry "But I don't know it. Do you?"
Daphne yawned.
"Well, an IOU on the furtive shag?" asked Harry.
"Maybe after breakfast, with coffee…" murmured Daphne.
"Lets be honest dear – we're too tired, and gonna stay too tired till they all sleep through the night." said Harry.
"Let me have some pretence of romantic aspirations, Potter," said Daphne.
"Well, it's this, or we let the staff do a whole night without waking us." said Harry.
"Like you wouldn't get up 'just to check,'" said Daphne.
Harry gave Daphne a squeeze, "You do it too" he countered.
"They're my children, of course I want to see them." said Daphne, and she yawned. "I just wish they'd sleep through the night."
Harry was getting dressed when Daphne came into the bedroom in towels, swiped a hoodie from his drawers, and dressed in jeans, trainers, and a hoodie. Harry eyed the hoodie.
"That's better on you," said Harry.
"Maternity bra," said Daphne, sitting down to paint her face.
Harry took the opportunity to erm, lie down on the bed and rest his eyes. He woke, being jabbed in the ribs.
"You look like shit," said Daphne kindly. "Go sit at my vanity."
"I don't think your lipstick suits me," said Harry, sitting up. "Seriously?"
"I'm gonna cover up the shadows under your eyes" said Daphne "Admittedly on you, it looks more like you're doing dark magic, but I don't think that's the look you're after."
Harry walked over and sat with a huff "No lipstick," he said.
"Trust me darling – even my lightest lipgloss would draw attention to your lower lip." said Daphne, coming over and examining her boxes of mysterious powders.
Harry stared in the mirror. 'What was wrong with his lower lip? Was it too big? Merlin's saggy-y-fronts why had nobody said?'
"I'd never thought of it," he blurted out.
"Trust me darling – it's an asset for kissing," said Daphne.
Harry yawned.
"They books say they'll sleep through the night by three months." said Daphne.
"September?" asked Harry "The other kids will have gone back to school."
"Well, maybe," said Daphne, taking a powder and brushing it onto Harry's face under his eye.
"Maybe?"
"Mummy said I didn't sleep through the night till I was eight months" admitted Daphne, continuing to dab Harry with powder.
"Well, that'd be a Christmas present." said Harry, eyeing his reflection. The shadow under his right eye was gone. Daphne did the other side, and Harry tried not to flinch – but he did finally look mostly human.
"Right" said Daphne. "Come on – I'm starting to fantasize."
"Too tired," mumbled Harry.
"About tea!" said Daphne.
Harry chuckled weakly, stood up, and they went down to the dining room – where a few children and minders lingered over their breakfasts, and a pile of mail sat beside Harry's plate. Mrs Carruthers glared at Harry, pointed at the mail, and left the room.
"Morning," said Harry, "slept in – babies kept us up all night." One of the minders nodded.
"Mr Harry?" asked a little girl that Harry was pretty sure was Delilah.
"Yes, Delilah?" asked Harry. The tiny smile made him want to fist-pump. Yes, I can remember all the names! Daphne sat down and poured herself tea.
"When are you going to be properly awake again? Since the babies came you and mum Potter are always tired."
"Um," said Harry, "They should sleep through the night by Christmas."
"Probably," said Daphne, lowering her teacup. "The book said three to six months."
The minder nodded "There's some variability in that maam, but I reckon by Christmas you two will be back to your usual selves."
"Thanks Hortense," said Daphne. "So Delilah, probably by Christmas."
"It's just" said Delilah hesitantly, "Are we still gonna have a Halloween party?"
"Of course we are" said Daphne "There's always coffee."
"I'm never having a baby," said Delilah surely. "I'll have a kneazle instead."
"Mmm pets," mused Daphne.
"Not today love," murmured Harry.
-==0==-
Harry re-read the letter from DMLE in his office chair. They had not worked out who Hermione's attacker had been. Harry sighed. A flicker of annoyance burned in his chest.
"Harry?" asked Daphne from the couch where she was breast-feeding one of his children.
"DMLE have no leads. Cells. They only have the box."
"And nothing from the vanishing box?"
"DMLE said the Unspeakables had no clue. Which, given what the Department of Mysteries is like, gels."
"Hmm," said Daphne, "You could pop over to Caer Peverell, I'll give you a list of names from the morons that attacked me, you can see if any of them have anything to say."
"Thank god dad suggested that ever-spinning top," yawned Harry, "I'd be buggered trying to spin up the wheel over and over."
"On your own, and no swearing in front of the baby," said Daphne, "I've got three more to feed before lunch."
"You can just let them have formula, you know?"
"The healers said breast milk contains essential ingredients." said Daphne firmly "And Hermione drew up a very detailed rota with calibration to even out growth rates."
"But she's ill?"
"It's not enchanted or anything," said Daphne. "A little controlling, but she means well, and the arithmancy works, so I'm not looking a gift calendar in the mouth."
"Calendar?" said Harry, looking at the desk-calendar and realizing something. "It's June already."
"Yes dear," said Daphne.
"Well, term ends end of the month. How are we getting them all home?"
"Portkey or coach – there's no way we're flooing them all. It'd be like re-enacting the evacuation of Hogwarts." said Daphne.
"Coach… hmmm," said Harry. "We'd need to space expand it."
"Obviously," said Daphne, then she cooed at her baby.
"And luggage," said Harry. "Twenty-one trunks."
"Yes?"
"The carpet." said Harry.
"No, it's draughty. Unless you want to corner the supply of pepper-up. And what if one fell off!"
"Coach – on it, like our wedding," said Harry. "We take the rug on the coach, and fly everything home on the rug."
"Without breaking the statute."
"Disillusioned with a white wand, not a problem" said Harry. "And also, because I forgot – twenty-one brooms. No way that'd fit on the coach."
"Not safely, no" said Daphne. "Are you really space-expanding my coach?"
"Um," said Harry "How mobile is Hermione now anyway?"
"Hmm" said Daphne "Ask Nott."
Harry drew his wand and cast a patronus, whispered to it and sent it off.
Daphne got up "I'll go put this little beauty to bed, and get another one."
"Why here?"
"Because this room isn't full of crying babies, and has my husband, who I love?" said Daphne.
"Love you too," said Harry to her back as she left the room.
Half and hour of annoying building-related bills later, a house elf informed him that a Mr Nott was in the front hall.
Harry left the office, and standing in his front hall, (counting shoes if Harry was any judge) was Theo Nott, in a shirt-sleeves, a grey waistcoat and dark trousers – a rather informal rig for a pureblood.
"Nott" said Harry.
"She's quite agitated, and the DMLE – " started Nott.
"In my office. Not the front hall," said Harry, walking back into his office. Nott followed.
Harry sat down on one of the couches in the office. "Sit, please" said Harry tiredly.
Nott perched on the edge of the couch "The DMLE are useless," he said whinily, "A member of the Wizengamot attacked in broad daylight in the halls of the ministry – "
"Stop," said Harry, lifting one hand, "I'll make some inquiries this afternoon."
"They know nothing," said Nott sourly. "Even after the second dose of veritassium – "
"Nott – " interrupted Harry. "I'll ask other people, who can't keep secrets from me." He smiled. "Now, I assume Hermione's still bed-ridden?" he asked.
"She's walking with a stick," said Nott grumpliy, "The potions are making her nauseous."
Harry shrugged, "She will make a full recovery?"
"She won't heal completely," grumbled Nott.
"None of us do," said Harry tiredly, rubbing his scarred hand. "I was hoping space-expanding Daphne's coach would be a little project she could do, you know… supervised, obviously."
"In a week or so- she claims to need to research it again. For the millionth time." said Nott. Harry couldn't help smiling.
"You could… find a new book on space-expansion charms. She'd like that" said Harry.
Nott nodded. "I'm not an idiot, Potter." he said. Nott left in a sulky huff, and Harry was left with the suspicion that Theodore Nott was… quite fond of Hermione. Who didn't mind a bookworm.
-==0==-
The large wheel covered in rune-engraved plates spun in the dusty old workshop and Harry glared at the list Daphne had given him.
A group of shades appeared slowly from the floor, and looked around "What the blazes?" said one.
"Gentlemen," said Harry tiredly, "I'd like you to tell me all about the new organization. Leave out no names."
He picked up a biro and a pad, "You, on the left," said Harry curtly, "Start talking."
"I would never tell you anything!" said the Death Eater.
Harry lifted his pale wand and gave it a twist. There was a sound like ice-cubes cracking then the shade on the left started to shimmer, as if in a heat haze.
"What on Earth?" asked another Death Eater.
"Spirit wrack," said Harry tiredly, "Like cruciatus for dead people." he added. A little while later, the shimmering shade started to scream, their scream dopplering upwards into an ear-piercing shriek.
Harry twisted his wand the other way, and the shimmering stopped.
"You, monster," gasped the Death Eater.
"Talk or burn, I really don't give a damn," said Harry. "Lets start with easy questions: Which one of you killed my lead Thestral?"
The shade of the Death Eater pointed to another one.
"Name?" asked Harry.
"Euripides Selwyn." said the dead git.
"Euripides, you killed my family's lead Thestral, that we'd owned for over seven hundred years. Now, I understand you've got some childish political objection to me, but, really, you were not paying attention. You attacked my wife, who nearly won the under-twenty-one duelling contest, on her first attempt, but moreover, my wife. I killed your lord and master, and yet, you idiots keep attacking us. I killed the last Carrow – I'll make a note to get rid of the last male Selywyn too."
"You're no better than us!" exclaimed Euripides.
"I never said I was a particularly good man," said Harry, "But it was kind of obvious I was better at winning than your side. Even before the war, you know, the one your side lost. Anyway, he killed my mother and father, trying to kill me. I killed him, and coincidentally we were related. But everyone is, really. Now, I've tried treaties and being nice, and that apparently just doesn't get through to some people."
"You're just another dark lord hiding behind a family name" said the shade of a Death Eater.
"Slytherin, which as you should know, I got from my mother. The muggleborn. They aren't. This whole blood purity thing's idiocy." said Harry. "Squibs have magical offspring… maybe they have to marry a squib first… and this is Peverell family magic – Potters. You all looked down on Potter, but we were Peverells. You're all stupid" said Harry firmly. "Some of the orphans are blood related to the Peverells; and there are Blacks in there too, so they won't be going extinct."
"Everyone knew about the Peverells." said a Death Eater. "Bunch of necromancers."
"You're a moron," said another of the Death Eaters, "Claiming families owing the ministry back taxes."
Harry took several calming breaths. "You knew?"
"The Gaunts could never claim Slytherin's place in society, for lack of galleons."
"Well, and they were cretinous inbred near-squibs" said Harry.
-==0==-
The ancestral home of the Selwyn's burnt down overnight – DMLE admitted it might have been fiendfyre. Certainly there had been a lot of deaths on-site.
Harry Potter's written statement was that he had been visiting the recuperating Hermione Granger at her home in London, at the time, with his wife.
-==0==-
A manor house nobody was living in, out in the countryside in Berkshire brunt down under fairly suspicious circumstances. Arson was suspected, as was insurance fraud. Forensic reports had some confusing looking charred patches out on the lawns, as if somethings had been taken from the house and burnt. Obviously, thorough forensic tests were performed and the charred grass was found to have … no trace of whatever had been burnt. Which was anomolous, but… if a house nobody owns burns down and nothing is found to have been there… Berkshire Police have actual crimes with actual bodies to solve too.
The actual owner proved impossible for Berkshire Police to track down – the land was handed over to the National Trust. Constable Sidney Roach came up with the quite plausible theory that the arsonists had, in fact used a flame-thrower, and subsequently used the flame-thrower on the lawn to burn DNA evidence off valuable metal objects stolen from the house. Case closed.
-==0==-
Harry was changing a nappy when a house-elf popped in to tell him Miss Granger had arrived.
Hermione's face was lined, and she was leaning heavily on her cane. And wearing a huge orange cardigan that Harry wondered, for a moment, if she'd made from Crookshank's shed hair.
"Harry," she said. "We need to talk."
"Office." said Harry. "Hortense – nappies." said Harry.
Harry helped Hermione onto the high-backed chair, and she cast Muffliatio.
"I was doing my Wizengamot reading," said Hermione, her lips thin. "A report from DMLE. The Fotheringhams estate was attacked, their vaults seized by Gringotts, and there are, as far as DMLE can tell, no living Fotheringhams left alive. It's getting worse, Harry."
"The Fotheringhams were never associated with the Death Eaters," said Harry, "oddly enough they survived the war paying large sums in bribes."
"Much like the Greengrasses." said Hermione. "Harry, the Death Eaters are – "
"Extinct," said Harry, "They had the other banishing box."
Hermione stared at Harry, "Harry?" she said loudly.
"You were attacked, Daphne was attacked, we were attacked. They got smart, and I was quite surprised to find out that none of the Vassal families were involved. Well, not that the heads of family know."
"Your vassals." said Hermione.
"It's to my family, not me," said Harry. "In case. Anyway – don't cry over the Fotheringhams, they were apparently the money and brains of the Death Eater remnant."
"You killed them" said Hermione quietly.
"They are dead," said Harry, "And post-mortem questioning rooted out a few bad eggs in the Vassal families, who have been referred to the DMLE."
"You should have told the DMLE"
"Evidence gathered by necromancy is not admissible," said Harry, shrugging. "And officially, obviously, I'm not doing necromancy and enslaving a poor pureblood witch who I forced to have multiple babies."
"Nobody would say that - you two are notorious for … well your courting and things." said Hermione.
"People would say that, our children at Hogwarts would hear it," said Harry. "I did actually do necromancy to help out her family before I married her."
Hermione blinked.
"Nobody alive knew, Hermione. It wasn't an impossible choice. Neither is choosing to protect you instead of trying to get an actually smart enemy through the court and into Azkaban." said Harry.
"Don't… don't do it again" said Hermione, "What if you'd been hurt? How would Daphne feel, finding out?"
"Hypothetically she would have known immediately. Someone's got goblin battle armour," said Harry, "And we have a little leverage with the Goblins."
Hermione frowned, "How could she possibly," and pantomimed breasts.
"It's got an undetectable expansion charm." Harry shrugged "As one of her shield-maidens said, all female armour's got expansion charms in case a Goblin needs to fight breast-feeding or pregnant."
"Pregnant," said Hermione quietly. Possibly pregnantly.
"Ogg the Unwise's wife, Egg-dropper, apparently waged war after Ogg's loss to the Ministry, and was the one who got the concession to allow them to open a bank." said Harry. "Which is definitely not in our textbook, and Daphne thinks is an actual insult to goblin-kind. I see their point."
"They won, being led by an angry, pregnant goblin," said Hermione. Harry nodded.
"Is it white-washing, what happened to our history?" asked Hermione. "There are lies."
"More omissions than lies, I think," said Harry.
Hermione frowned hard at Harry, "Don't think that just because you've told me an interesting historical fact that I'm letting you off. You are not to do that again!"
"Hermione, it was either go, or let Daphne and friends go without me. I am not leaving her to fight Death Eaters without me."
"And Friends?"
"You have friends." said Harry.
"Theo?"
Harry lifted a finger, "I'm not saying anything. If Nott helped, that's his business. If anyone who helped took any risks, I certainly tried to keep them safe."
"Who else knows?"
"Nobody knows, Hermione. Only you and me. As Daphne says, any number of people can keep a secret if you obliviate."
"Harry, never do that again. You have forty-two orphans, and seven babies." said Hermione.
"You saved my life more than once, I owe you," said Harry. "And there really isn't any organization left to attack any of us now."
"But that's not the same as being safe."
"No, but there was a war and we didn't go crazy killing everyone who might have had a grudge. We're not going to either." said Harry "We just take sensible precautions, and increase DMLE funding."
"Apart from that." said Hermione pointedly.
"They were organized and clever. Disorganized threats are less of, well, a threat," said Harry.
"I'm very cross with you," said Hermione.
"Well, could be worse," said Harry lightly, "I could be Nott, who's going to get caned."
Hermione huffed. "You killed people!"
"Only the Fotheringhams. The Selwyns we stunned, memory charmed, blood-adopted into someone else's family and sent to America. They're convinced they're Australian Goanna farmers trying to make it big in the US." said Harry, and he smirked.
"Harry!" said Hermione very crossly, folding her arms over her chest, "The Selwyns?"
"One of them, well, A Selwyn killed our lead Thestral. Bitey was over seven hundred years old. I told Selwyn I was going to make their family extinct."
"Bitey – but they ARE EXTINCT."
"No, they're just convinced they're Australian Goanna farmers moved to Albuquerque," said Harry "It made the Selwyn I was questioning crack, and rat out the Fotheringhams."
"Some of them could have been innocent!"
"One was the guy that tried to kill you, his dad was the remaining brains of the Death Eaters, and his brother was behind the attack on Daphne at Hogwarts. On balance, given that everyone else in the family had fled, I'd say there weren't any innocents there." said Harry.
"And you're sure?"
"Daphne used memory spells on them, so probably." said Harry. "I'm glad she's not a Legelimens though."
"You are?"
"There's no way she'd have gone on a date if she could have read my mind!" said Harry.
"What, why?"
"I'm a guy, Hermione. She's pretty. Do I have to spell it out?"
"She loves you, idiot." said Hermione.
"Yeah. I get that, these days," nodded Harry, "But really, the photos of you, me, Daphne, all of us, with our eyes crossed out on the walls, the photos, the red string from photos to newspaper clippings… they were deeply, disturbingly, invested in killing us. And for what? Blood purity that doesn't matter, because squibs are just as important for muggleborns getting born, really it's just mean rich people, trying to kill people they don't like."
"Harry. You killed people." said Hermione.
"Who attacked my friends and family. They were just doing it to honour ol' no-nose. And as you're aware, he and I are even related. Which by the way, is awful." said Harry.
"I'm Millicent Bulstrodes' third cousin," said Hermione, "Pansy's aunt is my aunt's sister."
"Like I said, blood purity's bollocks," said Harry. He paused, "Dudley, my cousin's a crack-head low-level drug dealer, and Sirius was cousins to Malfoy's mum and Bellatrix. Cousins can really suck."
"Third cousin isn't as closely related as cousin, Harry."
Harry said nothing. She slowly settled into a self-righteous sulk in the chair.
"how is your back?" asked Harry.
"I'm in my twenties, walking with a cane, how the hell do you think it is!" said Hermione.
"Theo said you might not heal up completely." said Harry.
"He's being annoying. I can get up, I don't need him to bring me tea!" complained Hermione.
"Maybe he wants to bring you tea" said Harry simply.
"He wants to take me to some dubiously legal, exclusive clinic in Switzerland for further treatment" said Hermione.
"Hmm?"
"The Healers at St Mungo's said there was little they could do for my back once it healed up." said Hermione. "Theo thinks some exclusive, expensive clinic can do better. I'm not being a kept woman."
"Find out who and how much, and I'll call it your birthday present, give you a nice sack of gems" said Harry. "Problem solved."
-==0==-
Harry had a note from Mary Carruthers, his secretary at breakfast. Advising Harry that he was required to attend some meetings today. Harry despaired of another annoying 'having to do meetings day.' Daphne looked over at his hand. "Note?" she asked.
"Meetings" said Harry. "I've got a secretary, you'd think that meant she did the boring bits for me."
Daphne frowned at him "Put on a robe, and imagine it's exploring a sewer pipe, or something." she said.
His first meeting was at Black manor with the builders, plumbers and curse-breakers. At least, he thought, before the meeting started, the dining room made a decent meeting room. There wasn't any good news, and by the end of the meeting, Harry wished Black manor would just be swallowed by the earth.
Harry's lunch-meeting was at a cafe in Diagon Alley. With the Black Rod, of all people. Harry got there first, and took the corner seat where he could see the door. Justin Finch-Fletchly arrived – Harry checked his watch two minutes ahead of schedule, and was wearing a suit. Harry wished he was too. Justin came over and said "Lord Slytherin," and sat down.
"Lord Finch-Fletchly," said Harry.
"You look like someone killed the cat," said Justin. Harry wasn't sure there were any cats … at any of his houses, and wondered if firstly, he should have bought the orphans pets, and secondly, if he was going to have a mouse problem from children dropping little bits of food.
"I shouldn't have said," said Justin.
"Sorry," said Harry, breaking himself out of his gloomy musings "I had a meeting with builders all morning. Well, and plumbers and cursebreakers."
"As one does," said Justin. "Plumbers and cursebreakers?"
"Some of the plumbing at Black manor is cursed." said Harry "Best guess is a family feud."
"I assume it's also cursed to resist being replaced."
"Apparently you just pour galleons in and it eventually goes away." said Harry. "What's up, your Black-Rodness?"
"Well, I was reading some reports from DMLE" said Justin "And there seemed to be some bits missing. You know… suspects for peoples houses being burnt to slag, that sort of thing. Wondered if it might be the start of another dark lord? You've got contacts inside DMLE."
"I think that the Fotheringhams might have been some of the last supporters of the last one" said Harry mildly "And the Selwyns, well…. I heard a rumour they decided to leave the country."
"The DMLE claimed not to know much" said Justin.
"They don't" said Harry.
"Should her majesty be concerned?"
"I personally am not worrying" said Harry, "Well, not about that, anyway."
Justin raised his eyebrows. "Is this connected… somehow to the attacks on your family?"
Harry shrugged, and Justin, oddly, sighed. "Right" he said. "I'll note that sources indicate it's not a new threat." Harry couldn't help smiling slightly at that.
-==0==-
Justin's breakfast the next day was interrupted by a tawny owl pecking on the dining room windows. He opened the window, only struggling a little with the catches and locks due to his hands shaking, and took the letter. The owls perched on the window-sill.
"Would you like some water?" asked Justin. The owl bobbed. He conjured a tray, and used the water-summoning charm to fill it. "There you go" he said, and closed the window. He turned back to the table to see his mother looking at him intently.
"Well? What is it?" she asked.
Justin looked at the letter. It wasn't an official W.A.S. letter, but the handwriting was familiar.
He opened it up, and moment later realized it was yet another request for another an interview with Professor Lufkin.
"It's Professor Lufkin. She wants another interview" said Justin, and he couldn't help saying, "god she's insatiable."
Father snorted.
"How old is Professor Lufkin?" asked Dot.
"Um?" said Justin. Not that old."Um, about thirty." he said.
His mother nodded. Justin felt … indignation. He certainly wasn't carrying on with Professor Lufkin – even if she was a tall blonde. And just like that, his imagination did a thing, and he felt uncomfortable. Embarassed. She was … a person he worked with not… some girl he was failing to snog at Hogsmeade.
-==0==-
Justin sat at the Three Broomsticks, and cast a privacy charm. Professor Lufkin arrived a bit later, and got a drink.
Professor Lufkin sat down and sipped her shandy, then spoke "Sanctity's being investigated by the Aurors."
"The who what?" asked Justin.
"Sanctity jjones – the Necromancy professor. All the Selwyn's have disappeared, and Sanctity's the only living relation. And of course she has a rather shady past."
"She's a Hogwarts professor – appointed by Harry!" said Justin, "Obviously one assumes she went to a sketchy foreign school."
"Durmstrang," said Professor Lufkin mildly, "And spent her first month at Hogwarts telling anyone who'd listen about her implausibly occult origins."
"Implausibly – never mind," said Justin. "Harry wouldn't hire someone actually evil. She's not is she?"
"Sanctity is the sort of witch who wears skintight trousers, a choker and likes to talk about necromancy," said Professor Lufkin. "Lord Slytherin had a word with her and got her to at least put on robes – the senior boys were ogling. And some of the staff…"
"Hooch is gay, isn't she?" asked Justin, trying not to imagine skintight trousers on Isobel, and regrettably remembering far too many girlie magazines in dorms.
"Hooch's preferences are none of your business, Sir Justin," said Professor Lufkin.
"Is there at lot of… going on among the staff?" asked Justin.
Professor Lufkin's deep-set eyes squeezed shut. "Certain persons made inquiries," she said, shivering.
"Should I tell… I can't can I," said Justin.
"Can't tell.. oh. Lord Slytherin." Professor Lufkin's small chin wrinkled as she grimaced "I'm far too scared of Lady Slytherin to say anything that might inconvenience his Lordship" she said. "Apparently back when the Defence position was cursed, having a new person every year gave someone on staff an opportunity every year. An annual wheel of fortune. Apart from that, these days, as one of the, " Professor Lufkin sighed, "unmarried younger witches, I have been, sounded out. And I can say definitively that my job means more to me than some… staff-room tryst. You would assume that Sanctitty's wardrobe made her the focus of that sort of attention, but her personality is… well. She's a necromancer."
"Are you still… having problems?" asked Justin, feeling concerned.
"If people are too annoying I simply let them know about my family's dark secret – which because they've had the same, terrible, dead History professor for so long, most of them don't know." said Professor Lufkin. She eyed Justin and sighed, "My grandmother was Minister for magic, and declared a dark lord. She used to use the imperius curse in staff meetings."
Justin nodded, unable to speak, or swallow. Ruddy Hell.
"She was murdered by her secretary, using a sharpened scone." said Professor Lufkin. "The fact that my father was already born… well, it doesn't take a great deal of intelligence to find out that my grandmother was not married. My father's birth certificate does not list a father. And by the time people thought to ask, she was dead."
"Dark… lord." said Justin weakly.
"Well, her policies were fairly main-stream really, apart from the total disregard for democracy and human free-will. Which is why I'm a half-blood. No proper witch would marry father – everyone muttered that he'd been conceived using the imperious curse." said Professor Lufkin tiredly.
Justin swallowed with difficulty. "That's not… necessarily true," he offered.
"My father made a living in muggle London as a model. My grandmother was not, from the photos, a particularly good-looking witch." Professor Lufkin sighed. "That's my family."
Justin had a drink of butterbeer, and went and ordered something stronger.
And another… and Isobel started talking about the garden at her family ruin, which Justin found quite interesting. And not horrific, like a lot of recent history.
"So jjones is in trouble?" asked Justin.
"She's the prime suspect. Though you'd think Gringotts would have started sending her statements if she'd inherited."
Justin was stuck with his mouth open for a bit; that was a remarkably clever deduction.
"I have heard from… sources," said Justin, "That I need not worry Her Majesty about the Selwyns going missing. It doesn't herald the rise of a new dark lord, for example."
"Can you erm… verify those sources, provide documentary evidence?" asked Professor Lufkin "It's just… this is history in the making, and I can't really be using hearsay."
"I'm sorry, but it's … Wizengamot business and I just can't disclose how I know. Though, in all fairness, I have told you all I know about the matter. Well, obviously I can't show you the DMLE report."
"Yes" said Professor Lufkin "Not for fifty years if it become a secret. It's a damn nuisance."
"The investigation will likely just be closed in the next few weeks." said Justin.
"You couldn't…. Give me the file number, Justin?" asked Professor Lufkin, swigging her shandy "It'd make getting it from the Central Records Office so much easier later."
"I don't see the harm" said Justin, taking a drink.
"Do you know anything about how Gringotts is lending at a lower interest rate?" asked Professor Lufkin. Justin nearly choked on his single-malt whiskey.
"You do?" asked Professor Lukin, taking out a notepad, and quill. "What can you tell me from the Ministry?"
"The ministry don't know much" said Justin.
"But … you do?"
"I was there" said Justin.
"You're … a primary source?" asked Professor Lufkin, looking less sleepy "This is so exciting! I've never had a chance to pump a primary source before." She stared at him, rather intently.
Justin felt his face heating.
"I mean… milk for information" she corrected, blushing, and Justin felt his hears heating.
"Tell me, please?" she said, and her eyes were so big.
When he finished explaining, she was staring at him, then down at her pad, then back at him.
"Oh my god," she said, "Wars have started over less."
"Like goblin funeral processions" said Justin offhandedly.
"You heard about that?" asked Professor Luking excitedly "It really happened?"
Justin nodded.
"I thought it was the Prophet over-egging the pudding, as they usually do" said Professor Lufkin.
"I met Lady Slytherin on the way to courtroom ten," Justin began, "In a goblin funeral procession."
"It's not… an affectation?" asked Professor Lufkin "It's just… she's practically a model, and to be a Goblin warrior as well?"
Five whiskies and Six very dark shandies later, Justin had explained the goblins, and becoming a page of the Snake Clan, and that Lady Slytheirn had a body count of thirty-four.
"Oh Merlin. Thirty-four!" said Professor Lufkin, "I feel… so naive, with only one."
"Oh. I'm sorry," said Justin, "Did you have to kill someone while you were hiding?"
"Kill?" asked Professor Lufkin, blinking at Justin and shaking her head. "I thought you meant… you know … body count. Because she's so… attractive."
"Um" said Justin, shivering at the thought of THAT, "I actually meant she's literally killed thirty four wizards. The other thing… god I'd never speculate, but obviously one for Harry."
"Harry? You know him?" she asked.
"Um" said Justin "The whole banking thing's my father's idea; the Slytherin's dropped round to talk high-finance. Pater's on the board of the Bank of England. That's the muggle bank all the muggle banks use as a bank, that's run by, well, the government. Well, sort of."
"You know his lordship personally?"
'I was at school with him, in the DA with him."
"You were in the Army?"
"Dumbledore's army, yes. Got my Order of Merlin, and complimentary cruciatus curse damage form the Carrows. Harry's a … he's honourable and brave. Stupidly brave, and all the weirdest stuff happens near him." And Justin was still quite sure that under no circumstances would he have asked Daphne out at school – and wasn't going to mention that she'd been shy, awkward and pudgy.
"I think" said Professor Lufkin solemnly and slowly, "That I am drunk, and you are drunk also."
The next bit was a bit of a blur but flooing home seemed like a good idea; and he had loads of room in his bed anyway…
-==0==-
Justin woke up, lying on his back, to the sound of groans.
"Oh my head," groaned a woman, quite nearby.
Justin practically had to lever an eye open. It was early, by the light coming in the open curtains. And his head ached. He dragged himself out of bed, feeling to ill to struggle into pyjamas, and staggered to his ensuite, and opened his medicine cabinet. There was a potion bottle of the green minty stuff, so Justin took the cold medicine's tiny cup and poured some out. The relief was immediate. He stood up and eyed the mirror… and unless he was badly mistaken, he showed the distinct signs of having gotten a leg over last night. Justin staggered, still not really awake, his cruciatus curse damage not helping dammit, back to bed. To find an attractive blonde woman lying up on a pile of pillows, with the sheets pulled up to her armpits, her arms holding the sheets down, and a wand in her right hand.
"Is that hangover cure?" she asked, and Justin's brain managed, without taking caffine to connect Professor Lufkin, Isobel Lufkin, to the erm, naked woman in his bed. He held out both the little cup and the potion, but the woman was just staring at him. It was then that his brain helpfully reminded him he was stark, bollock, naked. "Mint flavoured" he said, as calmly as he could. Professor Lufkin took the cup and bottle and sat up bit, the sheet sliding down. Justin's brain unhelpfully told him that Isobel Lufkin was topless, and had, well, breasts. She drank the potion, and handed him back the cup, pulling up the sheet one-handed, and then handed him the bottle. Justin turned around and walked with all the dignity he could muster, into his ensuite.
"Do you have a bathroom?" she called out, sounding healthier already.
Justin eyed his mindlessly optimistic willy, and put on a towel, and returned to … the scene of the crime. He finally recognised her robes – inside-out on top of his dresser. Her hat was lying on it's side in the corner. And his clothes were on the floor; near something silky and pink that was probably her underwear.
"The um, ensuite's just in there" said Justin, pointing.
"Thanks… " she said. Justin blushed. Isobel stood up, pulling on the top sheet, and for a moment Justin got a pretty good idea of her general shape under robes – not quite page three girl, but tall and blonde, and … walking into his ensuite with a sheet draped over one shoulder, and pulled round like a… toga. Justin investigated the bed. That looked a lot like a wet spot.
He drank todays medical potion vial down, put the empty vial back on the rack on his bedside table, and knotted his towel firmly. He found all her clothes – which all smelt of booze, and made a bundle. He walked to the ensuite door and accidentally on purpose looked in – the shower was running and steamy glass hindered the view of Isobel in the shower. "I'll just go put your clothes in the washer. They'll be clean in half an hour, dry in just under two." he said.
"Oh thanks" she said, washing her hair. Justin wished he had a walk-in shower for a moment. "You can pop the bathrobe on," he offered.
"Uhuh," she said "What are you wearing?"
"A towel." said Justin.
"Won't the servants be scandalised?" asked Isobel, turning to look at him. That sort of improved the view, in his opinion. She was strategically holding a flannel.
"Um, well cook doesn't come upstairs and the cleaners only come Wednesdays and Saturdays" said Justin, "So probably not, no."
"Thanks awfully – I've got Hufflepuff firsties at nine." she said.
Justin checked the time. Not even seven yet.
"Not a problem if you can floo to work" said Justin.
"Well, there's Poppy's floo, I suppose," said Isobel. "Go – " she said firmly.
Justin grabbed the sheet, fled his own ensuite, yanked off the bottom sheet, And summoned a clean set of sheets, (he promised himself he'd tidy the mess that would have made of the linen cupboard later) making the bed merely mussed before heading off to the laundry. The back stairs would take him practically right there without seeing anyone, even Cook.
Justin got back from putting Professor Lufkin's robes and knickers in the washer-drier, to find Professor – Isobel in his bathrobe sitting on his bed, her hair in a towel, with his mother standing in the doorway. Brave Brave Sir Justin's nerves rather vanished, and he realised he did not have his wand on him.
"Ah. Son." said Dot, "Fascinating chat with Isobel here. You did turn on the crease-guard?" she asked. Justin nodded. Mother was clearly holding in a lot, mostly a grin, he suspected. Professor Lufkin was ... well without makeup of any kind she had tiny lines around her eyes, and… you could see all the way down the front of his bathrobe to erm… the sides of breasts. Breasts he'd seen less than a quarter of an hour ago.
"I"ll just go get Isobel a few things from my room while you, young man have a shower. You reek of stale alcohol and sex." Dot left, with an annoyingly pleased look on her face.
"Um," said Justin, "That's my mum."
"I worked that out from her eyebrows," said Isobel. "She's got some idea about temporary underwear, so I can get dressed; she thinks one of your jumpers, a tee-shirt, and she's bringing a kilt."
"Oh" said Justin. And he idly looked down her body to her feet. She had delicate ankles, and long, crooked toes. He looked up at her face, embarrassed.
"There are still dry towels" said Professor Lufkin. Justin fled to his ensuite to wash. The water helped him feel human.
Justin got back to his dresser in time to see his mother giving Isobel a bikini, of all things, and a small jar of something makeup-related.
"Well, I'll leave you and your professor to get dressed – Isobel, this is fairly neutral foundation."
To Justin she said, "Breakfast will be at Eight, as Isobel has a class at nine, and can fire-call her way there." And with that, and a definite smirk, mum left, closing the door behind her.
"I'm so sorry – " Justin began, but Isobel shook her head, "Your mother was awfully nice, though she did smirk dreadfully when she explained how to put the bikini on. I got flustered and thought she meant I should wear just a bikini to breakfast. The strings allow adjsutment, and I will be wearing other clothes."
"Yeah, um sorry" said Justin. And the thought of taking her to say, Corfu for the summer occurred to him. Bikini, tall blonde, hot summer.
"Well, um I know I'm not very pretty" said Isobel. The tightening towel wrapped round Justin begged to differ. "And you were rather drunk. I'm not actually that sort of witch. Not usually but.. oh god he nearly started a goblin revolt!"
"Weirdness surrounds him," said Justin as calmly as he could "And um.. I umm Its wasn't just because I was drunk."
"Would you um… go to bed with me erm, sober?" asked Isobel.
"Tell me a date" said Justin impulsively. "Any date. You're on."
"There's an hour before breakfast?" she asked hesitantly, and she blushed.
Justin felt his towel getting very restrictive. "Really?" he asked, and felt embarrassed immediately.
Isobel took a deep breath and… undid his white towelling bathrobe and let it slide off her. "Poppey's going to tease me mercilessly for months, I might as well leave … with something to remember." said Isobel.
"Oh god yes," said Justin, pulling his towel off.
"Um… multiple choice… pop quiz," said Isobel. "What should we do?"
Justin pointed mutely at the bed.
"Thank goodness for that!" said Isobel. "I'm not that athletic!"
-==0==-
Some time later, both clothed, Justin, with Isobel's arm looped though his in a way he'd decided was wholly satisfactory, led her down to the dining room. Dot and Francis were both there.
"Ah Justin, my boy, and Professor Lufkin." said Francis from the table, looking over the Times.
"Baron Peebles," said Isobel awkwardly.
"Look you're with my heir, just call me Francis," said Francis. "Is Miss… Mademoiselle Professor Lufkin going to visit often?"
Justin wondered about saying 'twice a day,' and said "I hope so." She made a soft "mmm" noise that Justin for quite explicable reasons found intensely rewarding.
"Fine, we'll open up the spare room next to yours, Isobel you can leave some things there next time you visit" said Francis decisively. "Spare clothes, makeup, that sort of thing." He looked over at Justin "And some shoes?"
"I didn't think my boots went with the kilt" said Isobel, in short white athletic socks.
Justin had the strangest feeling that something soft rubbed his ankle as he ate breakfast. Dot must have talked to cook as there was extra of everything.
He resisted whistling as he walked into the W.A.S. office with his dispatch case that morning. The helpfully provided two foot tall pile of parchment to look at on his desk destroyed his optimism.
-==0==-
The Hogwarts express stopped at Kings Cross with a squeak of brakes and a slight jolt.
"Did your mum just turn up in a flying carriage?" asked Bill, staring out the window at the platform, where a Black carriage was waiting, with a bloke in goggles driving it- though there didn't seem to be anything pulling it.
"No," said Aurora Black, "Mother's carriage is pulled by invisible monsters you can only see if' you've seen someone die." said Aurora. She raised her eyebrows, wishing she knew how to do just one like her new mother did. It was très cool.
"What's the man doing" asked Sammy. Aurora peered out the window.
"Kettle… is getting out a carpet." said Aurora. "Oh, He does have a very big flying carpet."
"Does everyone magical have flying carpets?" asked Bill – who was a muggleborn.
"They're illegal to import" said Aurora "Father's family has had that one for a thousand years."
Bill gulped "The… "
"Kettle has sent the invisible monsters home, yes," said Aurora, "I expect we'll need to pile our trunks on the rug."
"And your mum's carriage" said Bill.
"Oh, they did that last year, at their wedding," said Aurora. "I hope Mother's brought the babies"
"Babies?"
"My baby brothers and sisters, there are seven"
"How did she have that many?"
"Magic," said Aurora, and pulled her school trunk down off the rack. She didn't want to be late and get a demerit from mother on the first day of holidays, after all. There was a tower room she wanted, and she was going to get it, dammit.
Bill was lingering in the door to the corridor, waiting for the jam of trunks to clear a bit.
"One thing, Rora?" asked Bill, and she didn't like that nickname at ALL.
"What?"
"Who's Kettle?"
"He's the um… caretaker. Mostly he drives mother's coach" said Aurora. "Ever since her lead Thestral got killed in that attack at school, he's had to drive the team. When father's trained thestral was leading, for course. Mother could just call out her destination and off they went."
"Um" said Bill.
"What?"
"So… he's like the chauffeur?" asked Bill.
"I think he mostly does building repairs" said Aurora "He's not round much – the thestrals and some shopping errands."
"So… he's like a servant?" asked Bill. "Is your new dad ok with um… some bloke being round a lot?"
"Look, if you'd seen the way they look at each other in private. Well. They're always staring."
Bill looked out the window. "Right" he said. "It's just your new mum's perving him as he loads the carpet is all."
Aurora turned and… mother was standing on the step outside the carriage door in a dark green dress robe, her head tilted slightly, …. looking in the direction of Kettle, who was… piling trunks in heaps, and … seemed to be wearing moleskin trousers.
Oh god, thought Aurora, and then, you can't really blame her.
-==0==-
"Mr Harry?" asked a small girl after dinner.
"Um, yeah? "asked Harry.
"Do we have to take um… Necromancy and Ghoul studies?" she asked.
"Not unless you want to." said Harry "I wouldn't if I was at Hogwarts now."
"why not?"
"Well, they're both kinda creepy magic" said Harry.
"Oh. Its just… you're the Slytherin who put them back."
"I had too. It's complicated, and " Harry paused and checked for Daphne "If Daphne finds out I'm talking about it, she might get cross."
"Why? She's quite nice really."
Harry couldn't resist a smile. "Because… there's a curse on my family ring from Slytherin, and it hurts me sometimes, if I'm talking about Hogwarts" said Harry.
"Oh." said the little witch. "Can't take it off?"
"Cursed. Always be very careful touching anything you're not sure about." said Harry.
"So.. If I find something at Hogwarts, I should get a teacher to check it?" she asked. Harry nodded, and wondered how much more peaceful life would have been if he'd done that once or twice.
-==0==-
Aurora took a deep breath, and knocked on the office door, where her adopted father worked.
And left four minutes later, blushing. Oh god they were awful when they looked at each other. The smug, catlike smile on Lady Slytherin's face… Harry Potter had waved his wand, and turned into Kettle and said "Hello, gor blimey". So… Kettle was like the… not Batman, to Harry Potter, Lord Slytherin? Kettles 'accent' sounded super fake, but she suspected that mentioning that wasn't getting her the tower room she wanted.
-==0==-
"Now Harry" said Daphne one afternoon "Don't overreact, but we need to give thee of the orphans the talk."
"The talk?" asked Harry.
"About human reproduction. They're over sixteen at Hogwarts. Furmann, Claude and Olive." said Daphne.
"You're telling Olive" said Harry immediately.
"We're telling all three." said Daphne firmly. "You WERE a teenage boy, you're the reference."
"All at once?"
"Merlins nutsack no. One at a time. For all we know Claude and Furmann aren't both heterosexual."
"Um. I don't know anything about that" said Harry.
"Boy, was teenager. And don't claim not to know about… other kinds of sex, you bloody deviant." said Daphne, chuckling. Harry blushed.
"Are we supposed to tell them… stuff.?"
"How else will they find out?"
"We leave them a spellbook" said Harry instantly. "Done."
"No we're explaining about how confusing it is, and how strong feelings get, and how it's all a bit much, and that's ok" said Daphne.
"When I was their age I was always horny" said Harry.
"And what exactly has changed?" asked Daphne.
"I'm good at it now." said Harry.
"I'd say exceeds expectations, but never mind" said Daphne.
"Don't you mean… outstanding?" asked Harry.
"Lets not give all the children insecurities." said Daphne. "None of them are parselmouths."
"Our seven all are" said Harry.
"And that's going to be a complicated talk for our daughters" said Daphne. "Well, unless one's gay, then you can just compare notes."
Harry used his finely tuned 'not thinking about that' skills to… not think about that. They were not even three months old; it was too soon to worry about them dating.
"We need to work on the quidditch teams" said Harry.
"By house. Peverell, Black, Potter" said Daphne.
"By house, of course." said Harry.
"And?" asked Daphne.
"Brooms is sorted since Yule" said Harry. "I was thinking t-shirts."
"T-shirts are far Too cold!" said Daphne crossly. "Quidditch in t-shirts!"
"It's warm in summer!" said Harry.
"Warm-er" said Daphne, and Harry suggested hoodies.
"Hoodies. Hoodies printed with house name, and colours." said Harry. "They'll be handy on weekends at Hogwarts too."
"They'd look like ragamuffins!" said Daphne.
"It's not always arm, and they need something warm for quidditch and stuff" said Harry.
"Hmm" Daphne grumbled.
Hermione helped source the hoodies and get them printed; with help from George. Harry felt they looked pretty good the first time he saw quidditch practice on the lawn.
Daphne handed him a big flat box. He opened it, and it had a green hoodie with a crest like a Hogwarts crest, but all his stupid family crests on it, and on the back… 'COACH' and under that 'POTTER.' There had to be pollen he was allergic to around, as his eyes were prickling, but he swept Daphne up into a hug anyway.
He got the afternoon off to coach quidditch. And got an idea for a gift. With a little help from George...
Daphne opened the garment box two days later. A green hoodie, printed with Slytherin house's logo on the front, and on the back 'MUM' and 'SLYTHERIN' Daphne looked up from the hoodie. "Oh you" she said, and frowned at him in a not-really-annoyed way. The next morning she found the green Slytherin t-shirt in her tops drawer.
She turned to face Harry, and held it up to her chest. "This is way too small" she said.
"Honestly, it should stretch" said Harry.
They were late for breakfast, again.
"I'm never wearing that outside the bedroom" said Daphne quietly as they walked down to eat.
"What about the office?" asked Harry innocently.
-==0==-
The end of July brought Harry's birthday. Harry noticed Daphne was busy elsewhere a bit; which he chalked up to party organisation.
Harry stood on the balcony at Black manor, watching the fireworks going off, a drink on the balcony railing. To his right, Hermione was standing near Nott. To his left, Ron had Lavender's arm round his waist. Harry looked down on the lawn, where Daphne was rushing about, about, jumping and waving her hands about, like a nutter; hordes of the children watching the fireworks. One the explosions stopped, Daphne stopped jumping, and turned to face him, and waved with her hands. All the… all the orphans lines up and sang … with Daphne leading 'Happy Birthday' to him. And they all sang 'dad' instead of his name. Harry's throat closed up. With a crack of apparation, Daphne appeared up next to him. "Happy birthday dear" she said, looking a bit dishevelled and smelling … of fireworks.
"That was actually sickly sweet" observed Ron.
"It was undignified Daphne" said Nott.
"Nott, get notted" said Daphne bluntly. "I like fireworks."
"He married a pyromaniac" said Nott. "Who always insults me."
"Granger, can you manage and contain Nott?" asked Daphne.
"Hmm. I could tie him up and not let him … ?" asked Hermione. Harry had a large swallow of… it tasted of strawberries, but it had a kick.
"Oh god" Harry groaned quietly.
"Don't worry darling," said Daphne, "There's always medical obliviation." She winked up at him.
"To be honest, I think nobody expected you to survive Hogwarts" said Nott.
"Well, on a technicality" said Harry offhandedly.
"Is he still immortal?" asked Nott "Surely that poses some issues in later life?"
"He never was," said Daphne. "Just the one spell he could repel."
"I did hear that goblin armour stops killing curses" said Ron.
"Ron!" said Lavender. "No talking shop."
"Well yes, obviously, or the goblin revolts would be a lot shorter" said Daphne.
"Does it hurt?" asked Nott, and Daphne and Harry simultaneously said "No."
"They're actually terrifying" said Ron idly "I'm looking forward to the look on McGonagall's face when your seven turn up."
"Trust me" said Harry "She's got over twenty. We get a lot of post from her."
"Not that they're naughty" said Daphne hurriedly. "Though Some persons are telling our children stories, trying to encourage them to outdo… their dad."
"Not me" said Ron hurriedly.
"My children who get a shareholder's discount at Weasleys Wheezes?" asked Harry.
"It's all George" said Ron. "I am completely innocent." From the lawns, roman candles shot back and forth as children engaged in a fireworks war.
"Where is George?" asked Harry, eying a particularly near miss for the carnivorous topiary. It'd serve it right, he thought.
"He has, apparently got wife in labour" said Daphne. "Hopefully the little dear will make it to tomorrow, or you'll have a joint birthday."
"Oh god" said Hermione. "Is she all right?"
"St Mungo's, Molly said they were 'proceeding normally for a first child,'" said Daphne, "Which means a long labour."
"Did you invite Justin?" asked Hermione "It's just he's so hard to get hold of."
"Sir Justin declined; he thought, for some strange reason this might be a madhouse." said Daphne, looking out imperiously over the roman candle fight. Harry realised the fireworks were colour coded.
"They're colour coded" said Harry.
"Well yes, house colours" said Daphne "Or how else can they keep score?"
"I know hoodies would be a good idea" said Harry.
-==0==-
Justin Finch Fletchley had started a business called Finch Fletchley Solutions in Diagon Alley.
Harry looked at the sign, and frowned at the logo.
"Justin?" he asked "are you taking the piss?"
"FFS Harry, my reaction to the wizarding world." said Justin. "Nobody notices."