Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
-oOo-
Chapter 15
17 Mar 24
-oOo-
This time on Duel of Fate: Hannah's Funeral. Harry gets a way to channel his anger, and Ted furthers Sirius's plans to change the Wizengamot…
-oOo-
June 25, 1995
Godric's Hollow, England
Andromeda stood with her hand on Harry's shoulder. The boy wasn't crying. He wasn't looking sad. It was disturbing to see how emotionless he was as the casket was lowered into the ground. Hannah was being lain next to her father. Not far from here, the Potters and Abbotts had lived for generations until Andi's sister had killed his parents. Then the Abbotts had moved to Diagon Alley after Reginald Abbott had died.
Andi had been concerned Harry would hate them when he found out about Bellatrix, but he had latched onto them instead. She silently swore she would do anything for him, like she would for her own daughter.
Under her hand, she felt Harry's muscles tighten as the first hand of dirt was symbolically thrown on the casket. Sarah raised her wand. As was tradition for most old families, the bodies were cremated after burial to keep them from either rising as an undead or to be used by unscrupulous dark wizards in the future.
Her wand was shaking so badly, and so many tears were streaming down her face, that her sister, Amelia, gently pointed Sarah's wand down. Amelia raised hers as she held a sobbing Susan in her other arm. "Incendio Mortes," she said in a surprisingly calm voice.
A thin band of black fire shot out from her wand, and soon the casket was bathed in black flame. It didn't touch the casket, but any flesh, bone or tissue would burn inside the casket. As the fire crackled away, a man on the side of the hole threw a shovel full of dirt in. The fire would burn, no matter what, until there was nothing left of Hannah Abbott but ashes.
For the first time all day, she heard Harry sniff. Looking at him, she could see how wet his eyes were. He still fought the tears, and an ugly look crossed his face for a long moment until Sirius put his hand on Harry's other shoulder. "Come on, pup. Her family should have a few minutes and then we can join them at the luncheon."
Sarah was balling as she tightly held her son Paul. Paul looked shell-shocked. Susan had fallen to her knees as she watched the coffin being buried. Amelia was trying to do her best to comfort her family as she fought through her own grief. Harry gave a single nod, then turned away.
He walked out of the graveyard with more determination than she would have expected. "Harry, are you alright?"
"Yeah, fine," he replied in an emotionless voice.
She gave Sirius a significant look, who just shrugged. "We all mourn in our own way," he said back in not much more than a whisper. Looking around, Dora and Ted were already a little distance away. Harry hadn't really acknowledged them today, so they were keeping their distance.
She glared at Sirius before turning back to Harry. "Harry, it's alright to cry."
"I already did that," he said in the same monotone.
Sirius seemed to understand something was wrong this time. "You can cry more than once. She was your girlfriend and one of your best friends."
Harry nodded. "She was."
Andromeda frowned. The words sounded so final. So empty.
They made it out of the graveyard. Standing on the grass next to the road was Ted and Dora. They were waiting for them. The others that had had come to the funeral were either dissaparating, getting onto the Knight Bus or making their way towards a wizarding tavern in town. Harry stood there, his eyes looking straight ahead and his body tense, like a spring waiting for release.
Not knowing what to say to the teen who was still recovering from the attack a week and a half ago, they all stood there in silence. Harry stiffened again, his hand going towards his forearm. Sirius moved quickly to grab his hand. She hadn't noticed that his wand had slipped out of his holster in to his hand, and he must have been reaching for the knife he kept on his other arm. She was so shocked at the speed of their movements, she didn't have time to understand his reaction before Harry let out through clenched teeth, "What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough!"
"Harry, not here," Sirius said before turning to the intruder. Dora had moved to stand next to Sirius, looking unsure what to do, but knowing she needed to stand with family. She turned to see Albus Dumbledore in a set of dark purple, almost black, robes with very few embellishments. Her cousin's voice was cold and steely. She had never heard him sound like their grandfather before. "You are not welcome here, Dumbledore. Leave the Abbotts and Bones alone."
The old man looked careworn and sad. Not a usual look for the normally placid or grandfatherly figure. "I have only come here to pay my respects. Miss Abbott was one of my students."
"You don't belong here, headmaster," Andromeda said with some venom in her voice. "Not if you are going to defend her murderers and harbour a professor that could have prevented this."
"Let me go!" Harry demanded. Harry struggled against Sirius. Harry must still be feeling a little weak from his treatments. His arm, shoulder and torso were finally healed, but he still had another week or more to let everything settle and for the potions to complete their slower than normal healing because of the amount of damage he had and how it had all taxed his magic.
"He's not worth it, pup. Longbottom and Weasley go on trial next month. Let the Wizengamot deal with his pet Death Eaters and his professors," Sirius said coldly.
Dumbledore looked sad and disappointed. "I had hoped to avoid this conversation with you. Mister Weasley and Mister Longbottom feel bad about what happened, but it was an accident and Mister Potter was the one to drop Miss Abbott."
She was drawing her own wand when a smaller blonde woman suddenly stepped out of the gates from the graveyard. Her movement was so fast that no one reacted before her hand struck Dumbledore's face. The slap was loud. Dumbledore was so surprised that he stumbled into the low stone wall. She watched as Sarah Abbott balled her fist to go after the man.
"SARAH!" Amelia cried out, moving to stop Sarah. Her daughter reached Sarah first.
"Let me break his nose!" Sarah screamed, struggling against Nymphadora until Amelia could step before her sister. "Those boys murdered my girl! They killed her! Harry did nothing but try to save her. Let me go! Ami!"
Dumbledore stood up to find Andi's and Sirius's wands pointing at him. Harry looked ready to kill the man, and she wasn't sure that he wouldn't succeed if Harry put his all into it. Susan had grabbed Harry's arm. His wand tip glowed blue as he struggled to free his arm from Susan's grip.
"Misses Abbott…" Dumbledore tried to say.
"They killed her! And you want to say it was an accident!" Sarah continued to scream. Amelia and Nymphadora were doing all they could to keep Sarah from going after the headmaster again. "Hannah is my daughter! That Longbottom boy killed her! I want him to pay!"
"Dumbledore, get away," Amelia said in a steely voice. "I know you were served with the notice of restraint yesterday and you were to be nowhere near here. Auror Tonks, arrest Headmaster Dumbledore."
Nymphadora looked between the still fuming Sarah and Dumbledore. "Madam Bones, I'm not on duty."
"Perhaps emotions are still high. Let me just say my condolences," the man said before turning. With a soft crack he was gone.
Amelia looked livid. "The next time I say arrest someone, arrest them!"
"Why didn't you let me hex him!" Harry screamed as he finally threw Susan off. She fell to the ground in a heap. Harry looked half crazed as Sarah collapsed in on herself in grief. Dora looked chastened.
"Pup, this wasn't the place," Sirius said, moving to help Susan up.
"Bloody dick! I swear that I will make sure that Dumbledore, Longpiddle and the Weasels pay. Just stay out of my way!" Harry said very angrily.
"Harry, you need to calm down. The potions aren't made to work through surging magic," she said in a calm voice. The boy looked at her. The hatred in his green eyes had them burning like glowing emeralds.
"I mean it. Stay out of my way," he ordered in a steely tone.
"Pup, please calm down," Sirius said in obvious concern.
Harry gave her cousin a two-finger salute. "Slag off, Sirius."
Stunned at the way the normally even keeled boy reacted, they watched in a certain horror as he turned and stalked away from them. He went off in the opposite direction of the pub. Sparks sprayed from his wand.
"You can't let him just go. Hannah wouldn't have wanted that," Susan said from next to Sirius.
"Bloody hell. I'm going to kill that man," Sirius griped before rushing after Harry.
"Sirius, keep him from doing any magic," she told him. "He also needs to get back to St Mungo's."
Sirius just waved his hand over his shoulder.
"Mum, are you alright?" Paul asked. The younger boy looked frightened after what just happened.
-oOo-
Daily Prophet
July 7, 1995
The Boy-Who-Lived is now the Boy-Who-Killed. Trial to occur next Wednesday!
By Rita Skeeter
Yesterday, your intrepid reporter, Rita Skeeter, recent winner of the Witch Weekly Writers Award, sat in the hearing against the Boy-Who-Lived, or should we call him the Boy-Who-Killed. Neville Longbottom, the recent winner of the Triwizard Tournament, has shown his true colours. First, he has been implicated in the death of fellow Champion Victor Krum, the former seeker of the Bulgarian National team, and now he has been implicated in the death of fellow classmate, Hannah Abbott.
During the hearing, the barristers for the ministry made a convincing case that Neville and three friends set up an ambush against Harry Potter. Most may know the Potters as being accused of being Death Eaters and blamed for the death of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. That has been a story Madam Longbottom and others have pushed since the downfall of You-Know-Who.
You can imagine my surprise when during the hearing it was revealed that James and Lily Potter were the oath sworn godparents of Neville Longbottom. I would bring up the question of how an oath sworn godparent could attempt to bring harm to their godchild?
Among other revelations was that Harry Potter was ambushed. The-Boy-Who lived attempted to levitate Potter out a window to drown in the Black Lake and it was a banisher from Longbottom's wand that cast Hannah Abbott over the edge of the moving stairs at Hogwarts. She plummeted four stories before dying.
Longbottom and accomplice, Roland Weasel, will be going to trial for assault on Potter and the Heiress Bones, niece to Head Amelia Bones and cousin to the late Hannah Abbott, the assassination attempt of Harry Potter and the death of Hannah Abbott.
Frederica and George Weasel will be charged with the assault on Potter, having been found not to have participated in the other three charges.
I for one will be watching this trial, and calling for more details on this death, as well as Victor Krum, whose death was declared a tragic accident by Minister Fudge. The DMLE has been suspiciously quiet on anything surrounding the tournament. Could there be a cover up? Perhaps one that could try to cover up this latest tragedy?
To add to the Boy-Who-Killed woes, Matron Longbottom will be going to trial in the next few weeks for the attempted murder of the same young heir. It would appear that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree…
-oOo-
July 8, 1995
London, England
The last few weeks had flipped Hermione's world.
First, Neville and Ron were murderers, even if they had accidentally killed the wrong person.
Second, she wasn't actually a Muggleborn. Being from a squib line of a Wizengamot house classified her as a half-blood. Her apparent talent in potions and arithmancy were a family trait. After being allowed to look into the vaults of her Great-great-grandfather, she had more galleons than she ever thought she would have and now she was being asked to attend lessons on the Wizengamot and how to be a proper heiress of an important house.
Her mother was with her as they went to meet Mr Tonks.
"You are quiet," her mum said as they waited for the bricks to form the archway into Diagon Alley.
"I am thinking about great-grandmum," she said.
Her mother nodded as they entered the alley.
"I've thought about her myself. She was a woman that was always full of life, always thought family was of the utmost importance, but seemed to have a great secret. Knowing that she was from this world, I now understand much more about her," her mum said.
Hermione nodded. "She once told me I was very special and that she would tell me all about it when I got older."
"I think out of all her grandchildren, you were her favourite. I think she knew about some of those incidents as accidental magic. I'm sorry she died before you got your letter."
"I am too. I wish I knew what she was going to tell me," Hermione said.
"Miss Granger?" a boy asked as they were walking by Quality Quidditch.
She turned, a smile coming over her face. She had spent months tutoring Cedric on muggle mathematics. Giving into a little teenage pettiness, it had been something to make Neville jealous. What she found though was a boy that soaked up mathematics as quickly as she did. She should have seen the signs of what Neville had really been like, but Neville and Ron had been her first friends, and the first boy to show any interest in her when he asked her to the Yule Ball.
"Good morning, Cedric. Having a good summer, I hope?"
Cedric returned her smile, even if it wasn't as cheerful as she would have liked to see on his face. She was sure the end of the Triwizard Tournament and the end of the year was weighing on him more than most. "It's been alright. Are you Hermione's mother?"
Hermione flushed a little, totally forgetting she had been here with her mum. Her mum stepped forward, extending her hand. "Doctor Emmelia Granger. Are you Cedric Diggory?"
Cedric took her hand and kissed the back of it, just like Mr Tonks always did. "I am, Doctor Granger. It sounds like my reputation precedes me."
"I would say so. Hermione has talked about you as much as her other friends the last few months, though, I think your name has come up slightly more often," her mum said. "She also didn't mention how handsome you are or that you are older."
"MUM!" Hermione screeched.
Cedric chuckled and gave her a wink. She huffed, as the boy had a habit of tweaking her. "I don't know about the handsome part, Doctor Granger, but I don't think I'm that much older than Hermione. She turns sixteen next month and I turn eighteen in October."
Her mum still gave Hermione a look that said 'we will be talking later'. "Hermione does. I wasn't aware you were that good of a friend to know her birthday?"
"Well, Hermione helped me most of the spring term to understand Muggle mathematics. It was an immense help and I managed to get an outstanding on my end of year exams in Advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Magics because of it. I meant to say thank you by the way," he told her, giving her a smile that had her legs feeling weak.
"It was nothing," she said a little meekly.
"I'm glad the books that her father and I were able to send helped you both so much," her mother commented.
"If you need, I can help you more," Hermione blurted out.
Cedric gave a grin that met his eyes this time. "I wouldn't say no. I have my NEWTS this year and if I can get an outstanding on them then I can get into the Unspeakables program or look at a mastery. She says we might be able to get into calculus. I've never seen mathematics used like that in arithmancy."
"We can get some more advanced books. I know Hermione would like to get her GCSE. If you would like, you are welcome to visit this summer," her mother said, gaging Hermione's reaction.
Hermione responded almost before her mother was done talking. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow. I have already finished half my trigonometry workbook and should be through the algebra II workbook by next month. If you can catch up, we could look at calculus by September," Hermione told him.
"Brilliant! Tomorrow I am working, but we could plan for some point this week. I'll need to know how to get to your house though. Will the Knight Bus be alright for a Muggle neighbourhood?" he asked.
"It's supposed to have notice-me-not and Muggle repelling charms on it, so I don't see why not. Tuesday?" Hermione offered.
"Tuesday should be fine," Cedric said.
Her mother cleared her throat. "Tuesday should be fine," her mother repeated. "Would you mind coming over later in the day when my husband or I can be home? Say five or six?"
"Of course, Doctor Granger. I look forward to it. I've been to visit a few of my Muggle friends before, so I should be able to blend in," he said with some pride.
Hermione wanted to laugh. Most wizards' methods of blending in had them sticking out like a sore thumb.
"And what do you find so amusing?" he asked her.
"Nothing," she said.
He eyed her. "You're laughing at me."
"I'm not laughing," she shot back.
"You are too. I see it in your eyes," he accused.
"As entertaining this is, Hermione and I do have an appointment we need to be at," her mother said, sounding amused.
"I won't keep you. If I send you my owl, will you send me back where you live?" Cedric queried.
"Yes," she said excitedly.
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Granger. I'll see you Tuesday, Hermione," Cedric said before going back into the quidditch store.
Hermione watched him go, a small quirk to her mouth and tilt to her head to watch his backside. He wasn't in wizard's robes, so she was able to see the way his trousers pulled tight as he walked. She was still looking at the door when it closed. Her mother cleared her throat again. "He seems like a nice boy."
Hermione felt her neck heat at the tone of her mother's voice. She stuck her chin up, trying not to give into her mother's tone. "He is a gentleman," Hermione defended Cedric.
Her mother chuckled. "I'm sure he is. We need to keep moving."
Hermione fell into step with her mum. A moment later her mum commented, "You really didn't mention how handsome he is."
"He is easy on the eyes," she said a little dreamily, still lost in the conversation before realizing what she said. "I mean, everyone finds him attractive. Cedric is also very smart and one of the best quidditch players in the school. He was one of the champions last year. Most think he'll be head boy this year."
"He must be something special to catch your eye," her mother commented, a hint of a laugh on her voice.
Hermione flushed more. "He's my friend."
"Boy friend or boyfriend?"
"A friend that is a boy," Hermione shot back.
"You know how to be safe? Are there potions or a charm that can protect you?"
"MUM!" Hermione said mortified.
Her mother laughed. "You are getting to that age, and he is almost eighteen. Not to mention he's easy on the eyes."
Hermione let out an aggravated scream before walking faster to get to Mr Tonks office. Her mother chuckled as she followed. Not long later, they were sitting down with Mr Tonks.
"Thank you for coming today, Hermione and Emma. As you requested, I was able to work with the goblins to determine everything in your vaults and the status of your properties. These are the statements," he said, handing them a folder.
Hermione and her mum opened it up. Hermione's eyes widened. Her mother started to run her finger down the columns. "If I understand this right, Hermione has a little over fifty-eight thousand galleons?"
"In raw currency, but if you turn over the next page, she also has a fair amount of family jewellery and heirlooms. The goblins appraise them at thirty-three thousand galleons. Unfortunately, the two properties have been out of maintenance for a while. The wards have collapsed on the old manor house in Devon. The structure and most items inside are a complete loss except for a few old paintings, a full set of goblin made silverware and a few other miscellaneous items," Ted told them.
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked.
"The manor will have to be torn down. The land will be quite valuable though. If you want to rebuild, the goblins estimate the manor to cost about eighty-six thousand galleons. To sell to another wizard, you can probably get about twelve thousand galleons for the land, and probably close to a million pounds if you want to sell it in the normal world."
"It's worth that much?" she asked, trying to figure out the conversions in her head. "Wait, twelve thousand galleons doesn't equal a million pounds."
Mr Tonks nodded. "And you have just found one of the inequities of the wizarding world. More than a hundred years ago the Wizengamot made the conversion of normal money to wizarding money at five pounds per galleon. This was a major inconvenience for the normal born at the time. Now, it severely hampers the wizards, but most don't realize this."
"So, it would be better for Hermione to sell this in the muggle world, and then convert it to galleons if she wants," her mother said.
"From a raw finance perspective, if Hermione wishes to be only in the wizarding world, absolutely. As it is registered as a wizarding property, that makes it quite easy to build another magical building, or many, given the size of the property, and to ward them.," Ted said.
Hermione looked at the papers. "How large is the property?"
"About five hectors," he told her.
"And that is only worth a million pounds?" her mother questioned.
"That is my estimate of the profit after it is converted to a muggle property. I would estimate that roughly twenty-three percent of the sale would go to cleanup of any stray magic, fees and filing costs to the ministry and then making the documentation with the Muggle government. If you sold it to another wizard, you lose five percent to the ministry," Mr Tonks explained.
"That is theft!" her mother said incensed.
"It is the laws," he said. "Of course, if Hermione decides on a regent, then her vote could start to be used to overturn and update these laws before she turns twenty-one."
"Yes, we have looked at your proposals," her mother said. "Are you sure you cannot take over as her regent and proxy?"
"If I do, I cannot represent you as your solicitor. I would recommend Mister Li, unless you have another option. He is rather close to Harry through his daughter and has shown to share many of your views on normal born and creatures," Mr Tonks told them.
"Can we meet them?" Hermione asked.
"Certainly. I can arrange for something next weekend. You have until September to decide," he told her.
"Next weekend should work. What about the other property?" her mother kept things going.
"Yes, that one is in better condition. It's a smaller vacation lodge in Wales. The wards are very weak and will fail soon if not fixed and upgraded. Gringotts provided an estimate, but I would recommend talking to a building firm as well," he told them.
"How much?" her mother queried.
"A little over eight thousand galleons to completely rebuild the wards. The wards will be among the best the goblins can offer. If you only want to refresh the current wards, it will cost about nine-hundred galleons, but I wouldn't recommend that as repairing already unstable wards may not work well. The repairs on the lodge are estimated to be around five-and-a-half thousand. The lodge and surrounding lands are quite large though, and I think worth the investment," Ted told them, putting another folder before them.
"Is thirteen thousand galleons a lot?" her mother asked. At the current exchange rates, Hermione estimated that would be almost sixty-five thousand pounds. That seemed like a lot to her as a sixteen-year-old.
"It is a hefty sum. In comparison, the average witch or wizard probably earns seventy to a hundred galleons a month and would not be able to afford the services and the size of the lodge that Hermione has inherited. I was also told that the lodge has two large fields full of wild herbs, jarvey and some evidence of unicorns in the old forest. You could easily earn a few hundred to a thousand galleons a year selling what you harvest from the property," Ted told her. "This would be added to the sum Hermione is collecting from patents from her family."
"How much is that?" her mum enquired.
"About fifty galleons a month. Gringotts indicated that about thirty-five thousand galleons were added to the account over the last fifty years," Mr Tonks said.
"That doesn't seem like much," her mother commented. It was a lot to Hermione.
"When the last Lord Dagworth-Granger died, the average wizard earned about ten galleons a month. It is a sizable amount," Mr Tonks assured them.
"You are saying that most only earn seven to ten times they did fifty years ago?" Hermione questioned. "How much has it changed in the Muggle world?"
"I don't know. We can look it up later," her mum said.
"I have done a little research, having dealt with many normal borns. Wages in the muggle world have risen closer to fifty times in that period," Ted informed them.
Hermione really needed to research economics now. She felt totally off footed in this conversation and didn't like it.
"That is a difference," her mother said stoically. "So, Hermione is well off then?"
"I would say so. If she spends smartly and uses the lodge to supplement her income, she will not need to work," Mr Tonks told them.
"I want to work. I want to do something important," Hermione replied.
Mr Tonks smiled. "Then I would encourage you to."
"I think Ted was trying to tell you that you have options to do what you want. Is there any option for Hermione to earn money off the property in Devon?" her mother asked.
Ted took the folder back and looked through it. "It's large enough to establish a farm or another business. It would cost a few hundred to a few thousand galleons, depending on what you want. If you wanted to break it up to make rental properties, you could parcel it out, a half-acre to larger, potentially get a dozen to eighteen plots to rent to other wizards. That might cost five to twenty-thousand to build at least a three or four room cottage on each with basic wards. Depending on the plot, you can charge twenty to a hundred galleons a month per property. That would net up to five or six hundred galleons a month after taxes and maintenance. If you wanted to contract a house elf or the goblins, that would probably be the most cost effective. You don't need to decide anything today, and we can go to Gringotts at any point to talk about these and other options," Mr Tonks replied.
"Why would I enslave a house elf?" Hermione demanded.
Mr Tonks gave her an understanding look. "I never said enslave, Hermione. I said contract. Yes, an elf would bind to you, but that does not mean it is enslavement. Did anyone ever explain to you that it's more a symbiotic relation?"
Hermione's face was set. "Explain," she demanded, not trying to be too snippy at the way her mother was looking at her.
"I thought much the same until my wife explained. House Elves need magic. They don't possess it naturally, but need it to survive. Some say it's an ancient curse, but I'm not sure. The short of it is that house elves must indenture themselves to a witch, a family or an institution that has enough magic for them to survive. Once that relationship is established, then the elf can use ambient magic without taxing the one they have been bound too. In return, the elf offers their services to make life easier for the one they are bonded," Mr Tonks said.
Hermione frowned. "But I've only ever seen them be treated horribly."
Mr Tonks frowned. "Yes. That is because you have probably only seen ones that have been indentured to long standing families that do not view them as anything more than a creature. If you treat a house elf well, a more loyal and helpful person you will never find. They will never give up your secrets. They will never speak ill of you and will defend you and those you hold dear. Like any relationship, the better you are to each other, the more you get out of the relationship and the more powerful and longer lived the house elf will be. It is not uncommon for house elves to live three or four hundred years if they belong to a loving family."
Hermione was frowning. "I… I never read that."
"Did you ever talk with a house elf?" he gently enquired.
She frowned. "Only once."
"And did you ask them about how they felt about their servitude?"
"I just thought they were slaves. Neville doesn't treat his that well and the one we met at the World Quidditch Cup last year was fired by Mister Crouch," she said.
"If you want to see house elves that are treated well, I would recommend you visit the ones at Hogwarts, or I can talk to the goblins to see if one is available. They usually cost around a thousand galleons," he said softly.
"But that makes them a slave," she said, sounding distraught.
"It is something you could affect if you want to take up your Wizengamot seat," Mr Tonks told her.
A determined look came over her features. "I am going to sit the seat of my family."
Her mother looked resigned. "I will talk with my daughter about this more later, but I would like to get back to what we were talking about. Is there a financial advisor we could talk too? I find this to be too different from what I know."
"Emma, the wizarding world doesn't act the same as the normal. Gringotts is the best I have to offer unless we can find a normal born that has gone to university and come back, which isn't normal. Most that go to university don't give up their magic, but they don't usually come back either, not wanting to deal with the bigotry and other issues," Mr Tonks told her.
Her mum frowned. "Is it worth it for Hermione to stay?"
"I think it would be. Holding a Wizengamot seat and being raised in the normal world will give her a unique perspective. The Lord Black, Harry and a few others have also pledged to protect her until she is old enough. She would also be a key member in a possible alliance that really could change things in our world," Mr Tonks said.
"And what about this dark lord thing that has returned," her mother questioned.
"There is a lot of movement to stop him from gaining power again. Hermione's Wizengamot seat could help with this, but if you would prefer her to leave, I can understand, as a father. As a man of this country, I would hope you wouldn't. I strongly believe that if You-Know-Who were to win here, he wouldn't stop in Britain. Gringotts and Lord Black can provide you a great amount of security and protection. If You-Know-Who decides to set his sights on Hermione, then you will be hard pressed to hide somewhere you will not be found. The last time he was alive, he hunted down everyone that opposed him, or he felt was in his way. I want to protect your daughter as much as Harry and all the children of our world," Mr Tonks said.
Her mother pursed her lips.
Hermione, though, determined to change things, declared, "I will not run, and if you take me away, I will return the day I turn seventeen."
Her mother stared at her daughter. Expressive brown eyes full of concern met defiant brown eyes afraid but not afraid to act. After a long moment, her mother sighed. "You are so much like my grandmum. Ted, I want to take all this back and talk with Nathan and Hermione. I'll let you know when we make our decision."
"Very good, Emmelia. Ladies, is there anything else I can do today?"
"Have you heard from the Board of Governors?" Hermione enquired.
"The Lord Black is sitting on a vote next week. Once we know, I'll let you know if the board doesn't send you a response themselves," Mr Tonks assured them.
"Thank you. If you wanted to stop at the bookstore before your lessons, we should be going," her mother told her.
"May I suggest a visit to your vaults? There are a large number of books and scrolls in vault three-eighteen," Mr Tonks told her.
"Really?" Hermione asked excitedly.
Her mother groaned, not having liked the ride the last time when they only went to the vault of the last Lord Dagworth-Granger. She had been allowed to look in as the goblins determined if she was under any restrictions to access her vaults.
"Really. The goblins have determined that you are eligible for your full inheritance and can access your vaults with no restrictions."
"Marvelous," her mother whinged under her breath. "I was sick for hours after last time."
Hermione was bouncing in her seat, anxious to see what knowledge was in her vaults.
-oOo-
July 10, 1995
Hogsmeade, Scotland
Harry stepped out of the fireplace into a nice sitting room. Dark wood floors were accented by dark blue walls and similarly upholstered furniture. Master Flitwick was getting out of a chair as Harry brushed soot off his clothes.
"Good morning, Harry," Master Flitwick greeted him.
Harry stood up and gave him a polite bow. "Good morning, Master Flitwick."
"I received word that you have been released to start training again? How do you feel?" Flitwick enquired.
Harry looked into the man's black eyes. His eyes were hard and cold. "I am ready to start training again."
Master Flitwick regarded him for a moment. "Harry, you know that I don't train you so you can seek revenge or use your skills to intentionally harm anyone?"
"I do. I won't be caught off guard again," he told his master.
After a long moment of them staring at each other, his master nodded. "I understand. It is never easy to lose in a real fight. My question to you is do you wish to become a duelling master, or do you wish to learn to fight?"
"Is there a difference?" Harry questioned.
"There is quite a bit of difference. Until now, I have only stressed the ways to duel. You tend to bend those rules and edicts, but you are a duellist. To be a fighter, there is no holding back, no quarter given, no trick is dirty, and you do everything to end your opponent. You end the fight as fast as you can, or you die. The stakes are much different in a duel compared to a fight," Master Flitwick said in a profoundly serious tone.
Harry didn't hesitate. "Teach me to fight."
The man's black eyes searched his for something before he said, "If I teach you to fight, you have to learn to drop this rage and revenge. Such emotions will blind you. I will not teach someone that is that easily distracted."
"I am not distracted," Harry told him.
Flitwick's wand was in his hand and pointed towards Harry. Harry's knife was at Flitwick's throat. The half-goblin snarled, his teeth bared. "You were lucky that time."
Harry didn't miss the small trickle of blood going down the man's throat. "I won't be caught again."
After a moment, Master Flitwick took a step back. A long finger went to his neck. "You might survive. Wednesday morning you come to my house at six in the morning. I am going to work you harder than anything you have experienced before."
"I will be here, master," Harry said.
Flitwick nodded. "You will still go to the duelling tournaments. It will be valuable experience, because not all fights will be over quickly. It will help you to be adaptable. I am also going to extend the invitation to Sue, and we may have someone else joining you as well. I don't know if they will be duelling or fighting yet."
"Yes, sir," Harry said. He was curious about who else might join. All that mattered was that he was going to be trained to fight and never be caught off guard again.
"If you would stay for a bit, we can have some tea and I have some books for you to work through this summer," Master Flitwick said, motioning towards the couch.
Harry sat staring off into nowhere as he thought about that day. Increasingly he was thinking of that day and what he could have done differently. His first thought was that he would have killed Longpiddle. His second thought was that he wished he knew to test all his food and drink. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
Master Flitwick returned a few minutes later with a tea service and some finger sandwiches. "I have found I am quite fond of some Muggle cream cheeses and smoked salmon. These are more a traditional cucumber or egg salad."
Harry came out of his musings. His wand was out, and he was already casting the detection spells before he realized what he was doing. When he realized they were all clear of anything bad, he looked up at Master Flitwick, afraid he just offended his master.
Flitwick had sat back in his chair and was warming his now cool tea. "I don't take offense, Harry. I understand after what you have been through you might be a bit paranoid. I think it prudent, especially since you may never know if I am ever under the Imperious curse."
Harry nodded. "Andi taught me when I was refusing to eat anything when I was still in St Mungo's. I can't eat anything now without testing it."
He could see his master understood. "Like I said, I take no offense. Please, help yourself."
Harry made his tea and took some of the sandwiches. He was hungry.
"How are you feeling?" Master Flitwick asked more pointedly this time.
Harry swallowed the bite in his mouth before saying, "I'm fine."
The diminutive man didn't look impressed. "Harry, if we are to train in the way I plan too, you need to be honest with me. I need to know when you have reached your limit both mentally and physically, because I intent to push you beyond it. There is a safe way and unsafe way to do as such, though. Now, again, how are you feeling?"
Harry took a few sips of his cooling tea before putting the cup down. "Angry. I am so angry," he said, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.
"I am not surprised. I have lost many people in my life. Anger is often the strongest emotion while mourning. We will work on you learning to let that go. What else do you feel?"
Harry looked down to the floor. Master Flitwick waited patiently as Harry worked through his own emotions. "Sad," he said in a whisper.
"That is also normal…"
His face screwed up. "I am so upset that I wasn't strong enough. I am so angry that I couldn't save her. I had started to summon her back," he said, tears biting at his eyes. "I let her die. I let Longpiddle get too close. He disarmed me. He ambushed me and tried to kill Luna and me, but I was the one that had caught her, and then dropped her."
Tears were starting to stream down his face.
"It's all my fault," he said.
Master Flitwick got up and walked over to Harry. When he knelt to look at Harry, Harry adverted his eyes before trying to wipe the tears off his face.
"Harry, you didn't kill Hannah. You did everything you could. You were setup. Longbottom and the Weasleys intentionally drugged you, then ambushed you. I saw the memory you gave to the DMLE. You are my apprentice, Harry. I am legally obliged to review your actions in any DMLE investigation. You did the best you could in an unwinnable situation. You took everything I have taught you and used it. You were confounded and slowed. You did nothing wrong. All the blame is on Longbottom and the Weasley boys," Flitwick said, putting a hand in a comforting manor on his arm.
Harry tried to get his emotions under control. "But I could have…"
"No, you couldn't," Master Flitwick said a little forcibly. "You did what I have taught you to do as a duellist. I will now teach you to fight."
Harry finally met Master Flitwick's eyes. His throat felt raw as he said, "I think I loved her."
There was a look of understanding on his face. "I know you did, and I know she felt the same towards you."
Harry sniffed. "You aren't going to tell me we were too young?"
The half-goblin shook his head. "Love is what it is. Sometimes it is short, brief and burns like a flare. Other times it will last the age of the mountains. I do not know what type it was that you and Hannah shared, but I could see how you cared for each other."
Harry nodded, wiping at his face again.
"I want to kill Longpiddle and Weasel," he venously said.
Master Flitwick nodded. "I'm sure you do, and you have that right, but to kill someone in cold blood, I don't think that is you. I have no doubt you will kill. To be a fighter it is inescapable, and in the coming conflict, I don't see any of us not being touched by it, but you will not kill unless you have just cause and in just circumstances. If you wish to be a killer instead of a fighter, I will refuse to train you."
Harry regarded this man that had taken him in as an orphan and helped him when no one else would. Yes, he had Andi and Sirius and Ted now, but Master Flitwick had been the only one to care for a long time. He wanted to kill Longpiddle, slowly and painfully, but would that satisfy his need for revenge?
Thoughts of that dream with Hannah was still swirling in his head.
If he killed Longpiddle out of revenge, would he see her again?
It was that thought that had him releasing a long breath. It took him a few minutes to get his emotions under control. When he did, he sat up, Master Flitwick looking up at him as he straightened his back. "Teach me to fight, Master Flitwick. Teach me how to defend my family and friends."
Master Flitwick gave a satisfied nod. "As long as you keep to a promise of only fighting and killing when it is just and when there is a clear threat, I will train you."
Harry nodded back.
"Now, finish your tea and eat some more. I would like to go over a few books on advanced charms and fighting strategies. You will read a chapter a day and give me two foot-long essays. One on what you learn and how it will apply to a fight, the other on how these skills apply to the duelling ring, while keeping in mind that duelling is a spectacle, while fighting is brutal, messy and should be as short as possible. Is that understood?" Master Flitwick said, getting up and moving back to his chair.
"Yes, Master Flitwick," Harry said.
His master's wand came back to his hand, and he was soon levitating a half dozen books to him. "There are enough chapters in these books to keep you until the end of September. You will come here five days a week. You are to rest at least one day. That is non-negotiable. Every Monday afternoon we will go over what you learned the week before. I will not accept anything but an outstanding on all essays and your practicals. This year is your OWL year. You will get outstandings in all wanded subjects if you wish me to keep up your training. If you start to lag in school, I will demote you back to the duellist training we have been doing. Do you find these terms acceptable?"
Harry didn't hesitate. "Yes, Master Flitwick."
The man nodded. "Good. Now, I would like to go over some of the base concept from Tsun Tsu's Art of War. Muggle war has much it can teach us about magical war…"
-oOo-
The next time on Duel of Fate: The trials of Longbottom and the Weasleys. What horrifying revelations will be unearthed? Will Dumbledore have enough influence to save the boys and everyone else?