Are we really calling this progress?
"Well, here we are," said Sirius and pushed the door open, "Welcome to the council of dark lords."
"Huh?"
Several nearby Mages in plum-coloured robes turned to stare at them. "Stop trying to scare the young blood, Lord Black."
"Don't worry," said Harry, "I know the correct way to translate Lords of Evening."
That was answered by several grins and about twice as many bored smiles. Right, it was old news (and apparently not a joking matter) to anyone who'd read the same History of the Wizengamot that he had.
"You know where to stand until Dumbledore grants you permission to sit?"
"Yeah," said Harry, and motioned in that general direction.
"Good," said Sirius, "and good luck Richard."
"Good luck, Stubby Boardman."
"Oi!" said Sirius, and wandered away to make his way to his seat.
In the gathering area, Harry found four other young people. He seemed to be at least two years younger than the others. It reminded him of the tournament. Except for this time he wasn't, as it were, merely 'the proxy.'
He'd had a proxy, who'd either been stealing from him or doing something else worth suicide to hide. Or, someone had decided that staging an honour suicide was a good way to avoid a murder investigation.
The witch and the two young men in their twenties apparently knew each other and were talking it up.
The other boy looked at Harry, and held out his hand, "You're … Lord Potter, right?"
"Yes," said Harry, "you look familiar, but I have no idea where from."
"Augustus Nott," said Augustus Nott, "My little brother is in your year, not sure if you'd notice him, he likes fading into the background."
Harry shook his head, "He likes fading into the library, same as … a large fraction of my friend group."
"Oh!" said Augustus Nott, "So, is he in your friend group?"
"Unfortunately no, merely acquaintances, perhaps if I'd let the hat place me in slytherin, we'd have met sooner."
Augustus nodded and raised an eyebrow, "likely. So, you're here because you caught your proxy red-handed."
"Someone seems to have scared Dumbledore's-pick-for-my-proxy into thinking he'd been caught," agreed Harry, "perhaps only his own guilty conscience," Harry shrugged, "And that leaves me needing to replace him immediately, rather than when I got around to it."
"So you're traditionalist?"
Harry shrugged, "Being annoyed and suspicious of certain members of the light faction and/or of the dark faction, does not dictate my opinion on policy, except as a special case: policies regarding appointing them to represent me."
"Yeah, well, I could see that."
"So what's your story?" said Harry.
"Dad's in custody for getting behind on his crossbreed license paperwork, I can attend as his agent, to witness but not vote until that's cleared up."
"Ouch," said Harry.
"Lady Gamp is in the same boat with regards to their vote being frozen, except she's already registered as a proxy, so she can just go and sit down."
That would be Rebekah's mum?
When did that happen? Just how many lords were taken down?
"Understood," said Harry, "Do you know who the others are?"
"The girl in black is the new Lady Urquhart."
"Merlin," said Harry, "She doesn't need to be here."
"You hate her that much for what her Dad did?"
"No," said Harry, "I mean, I respect you for being here despite the annoyance or grief that your father is in custody. Her father is dead, if it were me, I'd … probably have taken a month or more to get here."
"Oh, I see," Augustus shrugged, "Good point."
"You really don't mind her being here?"
"As you said, perhaps her father did something, perhaps not, it hasn't been proven yet, but it doesn't make sense to hold that against her until it is proven that something did happen and that she was somehow complicit."
There was a moment of silence.
"What are you talking about?" asked the witch in question.
Harry turned to look her in the eye, "The fact that you have found the strength to be here, despite your loss."
She narrowed her eyes, "I can't tell if you're being extremely polite, or if you really believe that."
Harry shrugged, "I also said, no one has yet proved to my satisfaction that I've been stolen from, so I'm waiting for evidence on that too."
She blinked, then nodded, "So we're on the same page? 10 members are dead or deemed incapacitated in less than a month, and three more the month before that, something big is going down, and we should probably stop it. Hence, my sense of duty to be here."
Harry nodded, "I suppose we all feel that way. What do we know about today's agenda, I'm afraid the only bill I knew enough to study is the werewolf control bill."
"Same," said Augustus, "And I hear there's a first reading for the next ministry budget bill."
One of the others said, "I hear they always schedule those for right after lunch so that we can sleep through it, something about, no one can fix it by ear anyway, you've got to sit down with the old one and the new one and compare them both line by line to decide what if anything is getting changed, and then you can go to the records department, to investigate all the lines that are getting changed by enough to be interesting."
"Ah," said Harry.
"You said you studied the werewolf bill?"
"Yeah."
"What's your opinion, if you don't mind me asking?"
"It disgusts me," said Harry, "I'll vote against it unless it gets significantly amended."
"What don't you like about it?"
"Well to start with," said Harry, "26 days out of 28, they are perfectly normal people, why shouldn't the law treat them as perfectly normal people for those 26 out of 28 days."
"Sure, but, I wouldn't want them around my kids, or—"
"Seriously?" said Harry, "Seriously?"
"What? Why wouldn't…"
"Would you also forbid say, … witches from holding jobs relating to childcare? education?" he shrugged, "healing? Shop-keeping?"
"No, what would that have to do with anything?"
"Because, (as long as you don't tell anyone I said so,) I will solemnly affirm to you that every girlfriend I've ever had, turns into either a raving monster and/or a sleepy lump, for 4 days a month, (ok, not every month, but still), not just 1 night and the following day. That didn't stop me from loving them, and it wouldn't stop me from hiring a witch, if a witch was the most qualified for a position." Harry shrugged, "yeah, I might need to give her a few days off now and then," another shrug, "and if we're not employing werewolves because of 1 night a month, and a couple of days tired after. And we're not employing witches because of 3 or 4 days a month being a little bitchy, are we going to also stop employing wizards, that happen to like a little too much Ogden's over the weekend, and come to work a little bit tired on Mondays?"
"Some people do in fact dismiss for that," said Lady Urquhart.
Harry shrugged, "Let them, it's their money, to hire whoever they want. And I suppose to let them dismiss witches and werewolves for having monthlies, or rather for having monthlies that they don't declare soon enough to be scheduled around or whatever. But there's no reason why the law should forbid them to be employed in the first place."
"Hmm."
Harry shrugged, "There are several other places where the current bill seems intent on bankrupting or chasing out every one of our subjects, for nothing more than the bad luck to have been bitten. I cannot think of any other disease that we persecute like that."
"But there are other creatures that we 'persecute' if you want to call it that, based on how dangerous they are."
Harry nodded, "True, but … well, I mean, it's already legal to kill them (or anyone else) in self-defence, assuming you can prove that it was self-defence, most of them know enough to lock themselves in, or if they can afford it, take wolfsbane potion, is any of the rest of this necessary?"
Augustus nodded, "So, you're more of a traditionalist than I thought I was, despite your name."
"Huh?"
"What is his name? Err, what is your name?"
"Harry Potter," said Harry, "are you telling me that my position isn't the light position?"
"You're Potter?" said Lady Urquhart, "Oh, that's what you meant about … waiting for evidence."
"Weeellllll," said one of the others, "there are at least two factions with the 'light' designation, one is mildly similar to what you said, though much more polite in their choice of analogies."
Ahem, "Most of the official positions of most of the factions are more diplomatic than that."
Harry shrugged.
"But your real question, Yes, one of the factions that call themselves 'light' does want to outlaw every 'dark creature.' Which yes, includes vampires and hags, for some it includes centaurs and goblins, and because it's considered a curse, (though I suppose it's considered a curse for good reasons) they want to kill or exile werewolves, though they are too polite to say it straight out, they just try to arrange the economics to encourage that over time."
Harry nodded, "Yeah, I suppose I've met people like that."
"There's a similar faction on the dark side," said Urquhart, "wanting to place restrictions on light creatures, such as unicorns, veela, phoenixes, puffskeins, and the like."
Harry blinked, "Am I right in guessing that those two factions get along on other things as well? Even if they, by all other standards, are considered polar opposites."
Augustus frowned like Harry had said something rather more offensive than pointing out that witches also have monthlies.
"They never admit to it," agreed Lady Urquhart, "but yes, several recent Wizingamot strategy guides group them into a 'human supremacist' voting block."
Augustus' mouth dropped open, "Oh, is that who that was referring to."
Lady Urquhart nodded and gave him a sympathetic look.
He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for several moments.
Lady Urquhart returned her attention to Harry, "don't mind him, he just figured out that the authors of half his favourite tutoring manuals believe him stupid and easily led."
"Not, that precisely," said Augustus, giving the lie to how intently he seemed to be staring off into space.
.
A hand wrapped itself around Harry's shoulder, he got ready to spin to face the attention seeker, but then he identified how more of the wrist was also laying against the back of his shoulder, and turned the other way instead.
"Greetings, bold one," she murmured.
She looked exactly how Grandma Gaunt was supposed to look, except it had not been a new moon for over a week.
"Hello, Aunt Margaid," he tried to say, but what came out was, "Greetings, aunt pearl." Which coupled with the fact that the others were flinching away from him told him that they were speaking Parseltongue.
"I'm glad to see you here, I expect you'll find it quite interesting." The difference in her tone, and the disappearance of the subtle pressure to reply at the same volume, he hoped meant that she'd gone back to English.
Harry nodded, "I hope so."
She grinned.
"How is Grandmother?"
She smiled wider, "She's staying warm enough, and she was very pleased by the letter you and Parvati left her."
That sounded like a blessing.
"I'm glad," said Harry.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," She started fishing through her robes and pulled out two books, one wrapped and one not, "Engagement presents," she handed them over, "I'd apologise for her that she didn't want to wrap hers, but, I'm not sure she holds to that tradition, at all."
So I should also not expect any future presents from her to be wrapped, noted.
Harry took them gingerly, the not-wrapped one looked fifty years old, Mortimer's guide to Reliable Household Runes by Clarence Mortimer Davis. There were two bookmarks in it. More than likely those were meaningful.
Harry flipped to the first, rune combinations for water conjuration. She smelled each thing that I touched in her lair, and assessed me based on that.
He flipped to the other bookmark, a rather long and dry section on space manipulation, perhaps on how the use of the various space manipulation charms and rune sets messed up the broad category of searching spells that might cross the same area.
He let the book fall closed. "Please, Thank her very very much from me," said Harry, "hmm, would she prefer a letter?"
'Aunt Margaid' gave him an astonished look, then smiled, "She would very much enjoy a letter."
"Alright," said Harry, "Should I open yours here?"
"It's a never-ending blank book, suitable for a vote journal," a shrug, "or whatever else you might choose to use it for."
Harry blinked and stared, "I'm sorry but … I had quite a bit of trouble with the last blank book I found from you."
Her eyes went wide, and then she bit her lip, "first of all, that one was not meant for you, but never mind, I promise I did nothing to this one except personalising the cover. The enchantments on the pages are entirely industry standard."
"Ah," said Harry, "I'll try to keep that in mind."
"I'll get you something else if you'd rather."
Harry shrugged, "give me a couple of days to think about it."
She nodded, and took a step back, "I'll leave you to your friends. But … be ready, the proceedings will start soon."
Harry nodded and she backed away another step and turned to go.
"Who was that?" said Augustus, "I thought my father had introduced me to everyone by now."
"That, is my great aunt-in-law to be, Margaid. Proxy for her elder sister, my grandmother-in-law to be, The Lady Gaunt."
Augustus blinked.
"Is that the correct derivation for the relatives of one's betrothed?"
"Yes," said one of the others.
Augustus shrugged, "and you're both parselmouths?"
Harry nodded, "As is the Lady Gaunt, and two of her four children, though none of her grandchildren, to my knowledge so far."
"Ah?"
"My betrothed can understand it but not speak it," said Harry, which, come to think of it, we have not exploited nearly enough.
In the back of his mind, he felt Nim sneeze.
Oh, Nim, you can hear me from there?
Yes, you're not completely on the other end of the island, just halfway.
Fair enough. You, umm, had something to add?
Apparently, I haven't been a sufficiently bad influence on you, and we need to arrange more time for you to be around Sirius and Tonks. If your sense of humour is this behind in development.
… Whatever, Nim.
.
Once the meeting started, and Harry realised how badly he needed to take notes, he did end up using the blank book. (Nothing seemed to disappear, so that was fine.) The Gaunt Amendments which had been heard and debated at the last meeting were debated a little more, and then passed, adding them to the werewolf bill by a narrow margin, transforming it from a piece of oppression to a seminal piece on creature (being?) rights. Bringing the legal stance of werewolves up to vaguely match vampires and hags.
After that several sponsors of competing amendments (Including Lord Diggory, or probably it was 'Representative Diggory') withdrew their amendments as no longer needed.
The bill being so drastically altered, there was a motion to put off further work on it until next month, so everyone could have a chance to revise. Proxy Gaunt moved to just vote on it as it was.
There was enough muttering that Harry couldn't make out, and then someone got permission to speak, and got up and began to lay out a detailed argument regarding a subsection of a budget bill, probably the one that hadn't been introduced yet.
Harry looked across the aisle to Sirius, who was also looking bored and rolling his eyes.
"Filibuster?" mouthed Harry.
Sirius shrugged and nodded.
It seemed like everyone else was coming to the same conclusion, and turning to their neighbours to whisper.
Harry's neighbour was no exception. She took the time to introduce herself as Madam Ven, Proxy for the House of De Torque. She finished with, "and I know you're Lord Potter, but … I hardly know what to believe about you."
"If you read it in the prophet, assume the opposite," said Harry, "except quidditch scores, they tend to get those correct."
She rolled her eyes, "So let's see, you're rich, famous, and a peer, and will be of courting age in about a year."
It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes.
She laughed, "Yep, definitely too young, do you have someone lined up to send form letters to all the hopeful girls out there, to tell them to put their aspirations on hold for a year or two?"
"Not that," said Harry, "I'm betrothed already."
She gawped at him for all of two seconds, then giggled.
"But yeah, I should set up something like that. Except … I think Lord Black is already taking care of that for me, or … has plans to."
"Good," she said, "You'll need it."
Harry nodded, "Thanks for the tip."
He glanced around. Everyone seemed to be treating this as a social gathering, except the Lord droning on and on about the still-to-be-announced budget bill. And two other someones guarding the way to the podium, perhaps in line to filibuster next.
"What's the procedure to stop a filibuster?" said Harry.
She shrugged, "depends on what's being blocked and why. And if anyone cares to do so, it's the solstice, no one was expecting anything to get done anyway. That's why there are so many empty chairs."
"Oh," said Harry. And glanced around.
"Something so simple as a vote being called too early, just takes someone getting in line and staying in line until they get a chance to say, I believe the bill should not be voted on. It's just, Lord Greystoke likes the sound of his own voice, and starts filibustering about three steps early when he doesn't like things going the way they're going." She shrugged, "we're all used to it, except Proxy Gaunt, she should have let the vote wait."
"She might have had a reason, I'm going to go ask."
Madam Ven raised an eyebrow.
"Am I allowed out of my seat that far?"
She nodded, "especially if you end up heading down to the podium immediately after."
"Ah!" said Harry.
He went.
"Hello, Lord Potter," said 'Aunt Margaid.'
"They say this is a fully predictable result of annoying Lord Greystoke, by moving too quickly."
Aunt Margaid winced, "I wondered, I notice that it's outside published procedure, but also that everyone seems accepting of it anyway."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Which tells me that published procedure and current tradition don't match, it doesn't help me figure out what to do next."
Harry shrugged, "they say, someone, has to get in line to filibuster next, and then call for a vote to not-vote-yet, again."
"That's … annoyingly redundant, given that there's already a call to not-vote-yet and my counter call to hurry-up-and-vote-already."
Harry shrugged, "Do you care which? This is boring and I didn't come prepared with a to-do list of people to talk to during boring bits."
Aunt Margaid looked startled and turned to survey the hall. Her eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction, and for the first time in Harry's experience, she seemed to be wearing the assessing-and-scheming expression that all the propaganda about you-know-who had led Harry to assume should be her normal look.
"Hmm," she said, "Neither did I."
"So you don't mind me trying my hand at calling for a lets-not-vote-already motion?"
She shrugged, "No, I don't mind, go ahead."
.
"Ah," said the man at the back of the line, and froze for a second before continuing, "Lord Potter, what do you have prepared?"
Harry shrugged, "Something along the lines of, I would have voted against the original bill, I'd vote for the now-much-improved bill, but … I'm not ready to assume that no more improvements could be made, does anyone else want to put it off until next month?"
He grinned and tapped his neighbour on the back, who turned around, and they both coached him on how to say that last line properly. And made him repeat the whole thing again. Then they pushed him to the front of the line, and gave Lord Greystoke a hand signal or something, to let him know it was alright to stop.
He made some non-sequitur closing remarks and stepped down, Harry stepped up and made his statement and appeal. Dumbledore accepted the motion, or maybe the previous motion to not-vote-yet as seconded, it didn't sound like the procedure Harry was expecting, and perhaps he missed some important phrases.
The motion carried, Lord Greystoke and the other two patted Harry on the back. And they weren't the only ones giving him grateful looks as they all returned to their seats. Among the other eyes that he noticed: Professor Lupin was on the observation balcony. Harry grinned and waved, though he tried to keep somewhat discreet.
Professor Lupin smiled and rolled his eyes, but did not wave.
Harry felt mildly chastised, but he had no idea what for. He'd have to ask later.
.
The budget bill was as long and boring as expected, the interesting bits were all at the beginning, internal policies and procedures that were being added, changed, or amended. One of them addressed the forms for the hiring process and had definite hints that it might be about giving either werewolves or muggle-borns an easier path to be hired by the ministry on merit alone. Whether or not they could hold onto those jobs once they held them and their co-workers and supervisors knew their 'background' would be another thing entirely. Perhaps better addressed in some other bill about some other thing.
When Harry found himself doodling rather than taking notes, and that he'd completely lost track of which department's budget was currently being read, he looked up and around. As advertised, some people were sleeping, some were talking quietly, and some were … playing hang-man with their neighbour.
Really?
Harry turned to Madam Ven, she noticed him shift and looked up from her novel.
"Just like history class?" said Harry.
She got a faraway look in her eye and smiled.
"Hogwarts really is tailored for training the upper crust, I had no idea."
She grinned even wider.
This is insane. I have gone insane. But everyone else seems to have arrived at the asylum first and gotten the furniture arranged nicely.
"What's your book about?" she said.
I didn't bring a book … Oh, grandma Gaunt's betrothal present.
"Household runes," he said.
She shook her head, "That's no good, too close in subject matter to what's coming in your ears, things could get confused. Best to keep things separate enough that you know when you're switching context."
"Ah," said Harry, "I'll try to keep that in mind next time."
She shrugged, "I have friends who claim they can study potions or astronomy during readings regarding everything except regulations on potions and rituals, or runes or charms during everything except regulations on charms and wards." She shrugged again, "I find novels are best."
"Alright."
"You're a half-blood, right?"
Harry nodded.
She leaned over to whisper, "Muggle novels are better, except science fiction and legal dramas."
"Ah!" he whispered back, "I guess that follows."
She smiled and sat back.
He turned back to his notes. She turned back to her book.
He got out his book and started from the beginning. After the introduction, and the 'how to use this book for a reference, if you don't feel like reading it straight through' he flipped over to the bookmarked sections and started from the beginning of the chapter on water, waterproofing, and plumbing, after two pages he was even more bored than when he started, he flipped to the other bookmark and found the beginning of the chapter on space expansion, and interior room arrangements, it was vaguely similar to Ginny's book about permaculture. All about minimising the distance to walk, day to day, and maximising the distance between intended high clutter areas and intended to be low clutter areas.
The rune clusters to build a dumbwaiter that went directions other than straight up and down.
Of course.
He read until the theory got too thick to cut with a knife and then he sat back to rest his eyes, and check if they were still reading numbers.
Yes, they were.
Harry sighed and looked down. And finally looked past the silver buttons on the tip of each bookmark to the bookmarks themselves. The mostly translucent, highly textured pattern of shed snake skin.
He compared the snakeskin of the bookmarks to the snakeskin of the 'personalised cover' of the vote journal.
Matching.
Was it Grandmother Gaunt's skin, or just some other large snake one or the other of them had found somewhere.
Harry wasn't sure if that was creepier than binding a book in human skin. Probably a lot less creepy, given that these were the semi-transparent skin that snakes shed regularly, and not the 'obviously someone had to die for this' that was involved with acquiring human skin. Or the full-depth dragon hide that was actually durable enough to be useful.
But still, he wasn't sure how he should take this, could Grandma Gaunt feel it when he touched this book or these bookmarks? The way he could feel dragon hide that had his rune on it? Or was that a special case, both of his personal rune, and/or, of dragon hide?
He made a careful check of both bookmarks. There did not seem to be any runes on them, personal or otherwise.
He'd checked the outside of the vote journal. Nothing.
He decided to wait to disassemble it until he was home and in a safe and somewhat private environment. And not only because he was forbidden to draw his wand in here.
.
As predicted, when the first reading of the budget bill was finished, everyone voted to put it aside for further study.
.
The next agenda item was called. Two people got up to say that their amendments to that bill weren't ready, and could please it be postponed another two months?
Two months was changed to three. The bill was postponed.
.
Dumbledore called for new business.
.
Aunt Margaid stood and was recognised to speak as the Proxy for Gaunt. She took the podium and began reading a proposed bill. Which from the way everyone was stirring was not the normal way of doing things.
"What's she doing wrong this time?" Harry asked Madam Ven.
"Technically nothing," she said, "but she's asking us to form a study committee, about a topic where she thinks we're missing some regulations, she doesn't need an entire bill to do that, we've had a shortcut for that for … I think thirty years."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Also by convention, we don't start new business in December or January, the budget doesn't count, and wastes fewer people's time for it to be read when there are fewer people here."
.
When Lady Gaunt finished and yielded the floor, Narcissa Malfoy was among those who stood to comment.
Lady Gaunt picked her out of the crowd and asked for her opinion, without stepping down from the podium.
Narcissa started a rant about ministry overreach and not interfering with legal commerce.
Finally Lady Gaunt held up her hand, "It sounds to me," she said, "like you're exactly who I want chairing this committee."
Lady Malfoy sputtered.
"Can we also get someone to represent the statute security position, and someone from the muggle protection position?"
There was a hush.
Madam Ven hummed in admiration.
"Huh?" said Harry.
"She might be out of touch with our procedure," said Madam Ven, "But she seems dead-on accurate about who is here and our positions."
"Lord Greengrass?" said Lady Gaunt, "I think you'd be ideal for the security position."
"I accept the nomination," said Lord Greengrass, "Though I'm not certain I'm the best choice, I will endeavour to do my duty in this capacity, should my peers so appoint me."
Lady Gaunt scanned the chamber, "Lord Potter?"
Harry's mouth dropped open.
"Would you be willing to add the muggle protection perspective to this prospective committee regarding cross-statute investing reform?"
Harry sighed and stood up, "I am honoured by the nomination," said Harry, "But … I …"
Say yes, master.
"I need some time to think about … how I'd go about meeting such an obligation before I could accept."
Dumbledore stood up, but Lady Gaunt did not acknowledge him any more than she had the several other people standing.
Harry ducked out of the ward above the desk that could carry his voice, and muttered to his neighbour, "Can I pick a proxy specifically for this issue?" muttered Harry
"There are some strict guidelines about picking more than one proxy, or allowing anyone to proxy for any area rather than for being entrusted with all of your Wizengamot-related responsibilities."
"Fair enough," said Harry, "If I do later pick a proxy, can Proxy Gaunt complain?"
"She can complain all she wants, but she can't write her bill in such a way as to block you from doing that."
"OK, thanks."
He stood up again and looked around, "Chief Warlock, may I ask your advice regarding this … possible appointment?"
Aunt Margaid looked disappointed.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Normally," he said, "I'd strongly advise against accepting such an appointment before age 25 if not 35, there are so very many responsibilities that a young adult must see too, that an older person has either already accomplished, or has already spent the time to gain the necessary skills, and can now complete quickly and by rote. However … I have it on good authority that you're ahead in your studies in just about every subject…" Dumbledore sighed, "you might be more able than most children your age to meet this sacrifice, but that does not mean the choice to make that sacrifice would be wise. There are other adults here with morals similar to your own, adults for whom the added responsibility would be a welcome pastime to break up the monotony of their otherwise settled lives."
Harry nodded.
"Conversely, adding someone with the flexibility of youth to a committee studying a topic so important, might be a great boon for the country. I have no special insight here. The sacrifice would be great, and the service to your country merely might be great. Perhaps the Proxy for Gaunt might amend her proposal for five years instead of two."
Aunt Margaid nodded, "I am willing to make that change, contingent on the demand of any committee member."
Dumbledore's eyes went wide.
Harry backed out of the sound pick-up again, and muttered, "would I be allowed to bring a second to such meetings?"
Madam Ven gave him a confused eyebrow raise.
"Such as a candidate to be my proxy that I haven't formalised yet or whatever."
"Yes, of course," she said, "How do you think a third of these Lords or Ladies have their spouse or an heir sitting beside them."
"Alright," said Harry and stood forward again, "I accept this nomination, though I … humbly suggest that were this august body to identify a more suitable candidate during the process of deliberating over this bill, I will not begrudge them the honour."
That raised about as many cheers as boos.
Not showing weakness is part of the game here. Reminded Nim.
Yeah, whatever, I find honesty more palatable.
What Lord Greengrass said was smoother. And I think, not dishonest.
Oh, maybe.
.
After several amendments were made that amounted to grammar corrections, and the scope of the committee's study was enlarged somewhat to include some muggle laws that might be affected, or affect any regulations the committee chose to suggest, or … stampedes of mages going through the effort to comply with any such new regulations, and a whole new section about procedures for future modifications of the committee membership, to the seeming surprise of several, Aunt Margaid's bill passed into law.
Madam Ven sighed in annoyance, "committee formation is sort of a rubber-stamp operation, that's why they came up with the shortcut process."
"How much difference is there?"
"Same amount of work, just the new way, you only risk getting dropped from the committee for not showing up to meetings, you don't risk getting fined."
"Lovely," said Harry, "I guess I should pay close attention when we set up our procedures."
"Definitely!"
"I suppose," she said, "given that it can and should be a rubber stamp issue, it might not actually break the no-new-business in December tradition."
.
In the process of sitting down, Harry noticed that Narcissa was staring at him. He stared back.
She touched two fingers to her collar bone, then to her side just above her right hip.
What?
She wants to talk later.
How?
Narcissa rolled her eyes and made the same gesture again, muggle style. Finger and thumb out for telephone:'Call you', wrist tap for wristwatch:'later.'
Oh.
Harry nodded.
She rolled her eyes again and turned to face the front.
.
Again Dumbledore called for new business, this time there was a long pause, and then someone stood, and requested permission to air an opinion, quick before anyone called for adjournment.
Dumbledore glanced over the assembly and then granted permission.
"I'd like to congratulate and thank the new members for attending, and hope we have reason to enjoy many fruitful years of service together."
Several shouts of acclamation.
About a third as many snorts of amusement.
Then Lord Greengrass raised a motion to adjourn.
It was unanimously accepted.
.
There was at least as much if not more stopping for conversation on the way out as there had been in the middle while Lord Greystoke was filibustering.
"Well kitten," said Lord Black, "what did you think?"
Harry sighed.
"Fair assessment," Sirius agreed.
"Harry, my boy," said Dumbledore.
"Hello, Chief Warlock. Thank you for your assessment of that situation," said Harry, "And I really don't mind if it stays 'Lord Potter' in here. And Harry everywhere else. The 'my boy' is grating everywhere, but more so here."
"Hmm, I'll endeavour to remember that," said Dumbledore, "You seemed, vaguely chummy with Lady Gaunt."
"You mean, the Proxy for Gaunt?" said Harry.
"Yes."
"Well she was the first to give me an engagement present, so … I'm mildly flabbergasted that you have anything to complain about."
"You … what?"
"I am engaged to her great-niece Parvati Patil the future Lady Black. Grandma Brice and Aunt Margaid both sent presents, books in fact, they seem to be under the impression that I'm a Ravenclaw."
Sirius guffawed.
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and stared at Harry.
"The future Lady Black?"
"You know," said Harry, "The horse animagus who helped me during the second task?"
Dumbledore blinked, "Yes, I'm aware of your friendship with Parvati Patil," said Dumbledore, "I'm coming to terms with … of Sylphadie Brice, yes? Not her brother Ismenus?"
Harry nodded.
Dumbledore nodded, "Marrying a foreigner rather than just a muggle-born. I suppose that's less of a stretch than I thought."
"Have you memorised the family tree of every mage in England?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "I doubt I make more effort to memorise such than any other Wizengamot member, my duty as headmaster requires me to look through all attendance applications, and detention reviews; in her first four years Sylphadie managed to get into as much trouble as an average gryffindor PLUS a slytherin combined get into in their entire Hogwarts career, I'm thankful that she both settled down, and managed to civilise her daughters so well. I take it that their father would have been a ravenclaw if he'd attended?"
Harry shrugged, "Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, if we remember for instance that Percy Weasley isn't in Ravenclaw."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Who's this Percy, and what's he like?" said Sirius.
Dumbledore spared him a glance, "Remus and Lily, but more straitlaced," said Dumbledore.
Sirius made a sceptical face, perhaps disgusted face.
"Now then," said Dumbledore, "Is there also a future Lady Potter around?"
"Ginny Weasley," said Harry.
Dumbledore's face brightened, "Indeed. Then I am much less worried that your other choice might be somewhat … lopsided." He swirled his tongue in his mouth as if tasting something, before shrugging.
Sirius guffawed again.
Harry just blinked at them.
"Congratulations to … all three of you," said Dumbledore.
"Thank you," said Harry.
"When are your weddings planned?"
"Not decided," said Harry, "But tentatively the summer after Ginny turns seventeen."
Dumbledore nodded, "Another married couple's suite for '98 … But no, you'll already be graduated that year," Dumbledore frowned, and looked at Harry, "will she be staying or commuting?"
That is two years away! "Not decided yet," said Harry, "what are the options?"
Dumbledore sighed, "Hogwarts is a boarding school rather than a day school for several good reasons, but that isn't a perfect fit for everyone, especially some NEWT students."
Harry nodded.
"Commuting, rather than staying in the dorms is … an option for students with apparition licenses, or whose parents live or work in Hogsmeade, as long as the appropriate paperwork is on file beforehand."
"Oh," said Harry.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Anchored portkeys and floo travel are also options," said Sirius, "But they have some serious drawbacks as well. We can discuss it later."
"Alright," said Harry.
Sirius cleared his throat, "I'm requesting a family suite for them, for next year, I can put it in writing if you'd prefer."
Dumbledore shrugged and turned a raised eyebrow on him.
"I'm also advising you to insist on a house suite instead."
"Why?" said Dumbledore.
"Security features," said Sirius.
"That's an interesting solution," smirked Dumbledore, "Let me check what's going to be available. Probably would be better to put your request in writing."
He turned back to Harry, "Aunt Margaid?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, "great-aunt-in-law takes way too long to say, and we're both more of the pragmatic temperament, even if we do enjoy a little pomp and drama now and then."
Dumbledore nodded, "Given what I've seen so far of her 'pragmatic' temperament, I'm … inclined to be impressed by the restraint she showed by merely 'studying the issue' on cross statute investing, rather than moving immediately to entrenching the status quo or condemning whatever it is that she sees as an issue. Do you think you can hold your own against the experienced personalities of Greengrass and Malfoy?"
Harry shrugged, "Aunt Narcissa won't convince me that it's alright to steal, and Lord Greengrass won't convince me that it's right to obliviate indiscriminately just because one cannot plan one's words carefully enough, beyond that I'm not even sure what's even involved in the topic. I'm suspicious that this is a ploy to force her prospective nephew-in-law to attend classes on investing, and penalise me with fines if I don't attend."
Dumbledore smirked, "and force the houses of Greengrass and Malfoy to provide that tutelage, That is a scheme worthy of … that family."
"Um?" said Harry.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "I apologise, of that generation of that family."
"You … knew the Gaunts?" said Harry, "You … you've been headmaster a long time."
"I was only the transfiguration professor back then," said Dumbledore, "I didn't have the authority to set certain things right, and … our world has suffered for it."
"Oh," said Harry.
Dumbledore yawned, "listen to me reminiscing when we could be going home and preparing for new year's feasts tomorrow."
"Good point," said Sirius, "Come along, kitten."
"Oi," sighed Harry.
"Kitten the Richard-Hearted."
"Double oi," sighed Harry, "Yes, dogfather."
.
Narcissa called that evening and suggested a tentative schedule for what ought to be arranged. Harry got permission to bring seconds, perhaps both his fiances.
Narcissa congratulated him and said she didn't mind. Harry asked about bringing anyone else, like any or all of his prospective proxies just to see them in action.
She said that wasn't done, just how many did he have.
He listed them, she said to bring them, or at least as many as were willing, at least for as long as the committee was mainly laying the groundwork, negotiating their procedures, and conducting their first round of interviews regarding methods employed by the current major players.
Harry agreed.
Narcissa suggested she'd invite Draco and Nymphadora, and Lord Greengrass would have several children, some nieces and nephews and cousins, and a grandchild, to invite.
"I'm not insane then?" said Harry.
"That this could hardly be a more tailor-made opportunity to pass on a lot of wisdom and experience to the next generation while the ministry is paying for the refreshments?"
"I wasn't expecting any refreshments," said Harry, "But yes, that."
"No," agreed Narcissa, "you assessed that correctly, except that yes we can demand the ministry pay for the refreshments, as long as we follow certain protocol in selecting the refreshments."
"Like what?"
"Nothing more alcoholic than butterbeer, pay no more for anything than the Diagon Alley average generic version of the same product, have meetings in the Wizengamot portion of the ministry building, rather than rent outside space. And certainly not rent outside space from one of our members or order a catering service from one of our members. Several things like that."
"Oh," said Harry, "and hypothetically, how legal would it be to order a catering service from Lord Greengrass's eldest child's betrothed's parents' catering service or some such?"
"That's almost enough steps removed to be above reproach," said Narcissa, "Why do you have a favourite catering service?"
"No," said Harry, "Of the Diagon shops, I've only eaten at the Leaky Cauldron, Thai'd Beans, and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop. I'd rather Molly Weasleys cooking to any of them, but I never heard that she caters."
"I've never heard that she does either, and she'd definitely be too close a connection."
"Right."
"Once it becomes common knowledge that you're engaged."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Not telling Lord Greengrass that you're engaged, telling him he's in charge of setting up the caterer, and maybe see if Molly Weasleys catering business was up and running yet, because it might be nice to reward such long-standing commitment by ministry employees, etcetera."
"Um?" said Harry, "That sounds almost deniable for almost everyone."
"And?"
Harry shrugged.
"Once there's a long-term contract in place, Ginny can show up as one of the many underage witches that's being allowed to audit. The moment you figure out that it's Molly's food, you raise a stink about not expecting that, and you were only trying to advise what kind of food you were hoping to see, not game the system. Lord Greengrass objects that he didn't know. Everything is neatly in the minutes as it should be. And Molly Weasley can reap the benefits for as long as the contract lasts."
"I see."
"What do you think?"
"I'm vaguely pleased that the rules are what you describe, and vaguely displeased that they are as easy to ignore as what you describe."
"Another small legal reform for you to add to your agenda," said Narcissa, "I think you'll be an excellent asset to this committee."
"Thanks, I think."
"I'll tell Lord Greengrass our conclusions so far, and we'll flip a coin for checking the ministry roster of most used caterers."
"How should transportation to and from school be managed?"
"Page program badges," said Narcissa, "They are anchored portkeys from a password-protected room in Hogwarts, to a password-protected room in the ministry. I'll look into it. For the moment you want eight badges?"
"Um?"
"If I'm requesting them for Draco, Nymphadora, and Luna, who are you requesting them for?"
"Ginny, Parvati, and Padma, maybe Neville, Ron, Hermione, Susan, and Hanna."
"And yourself makes nine."
"Yes, and … someday Hermione might bring a friend, but I don't know who yet."
"What do you know and how do you know it?"
"My seer told me to add what turned out to be Hermione's animagus form to one portal tapestry I was making, and a cruppie that I don't know to its pair. I infer a future crup animagus in slytherin."
"You have interesting friends," said Narcissa, "Thank you for the information."
Should I have not told her that?
A month ago you were considering her for your Proxy, why wouldn't you trust her with that information.
Harry sighed, I was considering Aunt Andromeda for my proxy, not Aunt Narcissa.
Why not me?
Maybe someday, I think it would tip my hand way too much to do that already.
That's fair. And she isn't telling you that you shouldn't have given her that particular piece of information, I think she was telling you to think twice before giving away things that seers tell you, or especially that you've already managed to interpret.
Hmm, alright.
"No problem," said Harry, "what else do we need to discuss?"
"First that you've wisely made the safe choice regarding hypothetical graft through Molly Weasley's hypothetical catering business."
"Right," I thought she said that already.
"Second, that you've done very well today for a first day in the public eye in an official capacity."
So Pettigrew's pleading didn't count?
It happened and is on public record, but wasn't in front of journalists.
Oh, I see.
"Thank you, Aunt Narcissa."
"Have a good night, rest well, you've earned it."
"Thank you, Aunt Narcissa, you rest well also."
"I will, thank you."
...-...
New Year's Express
Somehow, the Patil sisters managed to talk their parents into letting them stay over at the Tonks, and travel to Kings Cross with Harry and Professor Tonks.
Unsurprisingly they went to their assigned room to prepare for bed but ended up in Harry's bed before he'd even finished his nightly occlumency practice.
.
They made it to the holiday express in plenty of time and had barely finished selecting a compartment before Padma's ravenclaw co-prefect found them.
Eventually, they were joined by Luna and Ron just before the train started.
Once the train was moving and holiday greetings exchanged, Ron took his leave to go find "Millicent and co." And Padma and her co-prefect left for the first carriage, in case of needing to hear prefect announcements.
"Luna," said Harry, "I like your hat."
"Thank you," she said, "Do you think it is blue enough?"
"I'm not sure it could be any bluer."
"That's what Mrs. Weasley said."
"Did it take a potion to dye something that colour, or did you overpower a colour change charm?"
Luna smirked, "I made the potion out of robins eggs I'd dyed with the previous batch of the same potion, I might should have gone one more cycle."
Harry blinked, "That's an impressive result, and … I like it very much. Though I won't argue if you say it doesn't quite match your original vision, and decide to try again."
She smiled and adjusted her hat again.
And he realised she was missing her eyebrows again. Which either meant an explosive potions accident, of which there were no other signs, or she'd gotten distracted in the shower and shaved them off by mistake.
He looked closer, her normal waterfall of golden straw wasn't pouring over her shoulder from under her hat either, so … she might have shaved her entire head. Or she might just have it braided high enough not to show.
Surely mid-winter wasn't a good time to shave her head… Unless…
Unless she'd been imitating his bout of accidental magic. Either for social reasons, or … as an experiment.
Of course, this was Luna, everything was an experiment.
Also, it was winter, and therefore, wearing a fluffy hat 24/7 made sense, and therefore also: trying experiments that might remove all hair might be less awkward now than later in the year.
Harry had never been sure whether Luna thought that many steps in advance, or was just so pragmatic about the consequences of her experiments that it looked the same.
.
Professor Tonks looked in on them, for about ten minutes and left again.
Ginny arrived with two other girls tagging along, but shortly after she and Luna started quizzing Harry on his arithmancy, the tag-a-longs took the hint and left. By the time they'd finished that, Parvati had corrected his definitions in three places. So they went over his fifth-year study material with a fine-tooth comb for inaccuracies, then settled back to a more general discussion of runes, including the uses of electrum as an engraving base.
Which is where they were when Susan found them, she became very interested, so they had to go over about half of it again, and then show her where in the appendix it gave the specs.
She became much more interested and soon was off in her own little world bouncing back and forth between her runes and arithmancy texts, and several pages of notes.
Lavender stopped by, and Parvati left with her to discuss potions.
Which left Ginny and Luna.
They talked a bit more about Ginny's allowance, and what Christmas presents she'd been able to buy because of it. And then she'd drifted off to sleep. Nim curled up on her. Luna watched her for about a minute making intermittent amused and jealous faces, then curled up to use Harry's other thigh for a pillow, and also fell asleep.
It took Harry almost ten minutes to figure out where to put his arms to not joggle her at every bounce of the train, and then he also slept.
.
He woke to Draco peering at him, smirking. Probably that he'd gotten the drop on him because he hadn't locked the door.
Why didn't I locked the door?
Except Draco didn't have his wand out, he was just smirking.
"What do you want Draco?"
Draco's eyes flicked toward Luna, "I wanted to apologise about … muscling in on your turf or something. I wasn't really in a position to do anything else, you know?"
"Is this about staying with Luna over the holidays?" said Harry, he distinctly remembered Draco was going to stay with Luna. He also distinctly remembered that there had been no such evidence when Harry had visited Luna either just before Yule, nor just after Christmas.
Draco's mouth worked until eventually he shrugged and said 'yes,'
"I haven't had sex with her, you know?" said Draco, "I've just … slept where she assigned, you know. It's polite to sleep where assigned when you're partaking of someone else's hospitality and protection."
Was that a subtle dig at Harry sleeping in Lion's-Keep? Or …
"You don't understand," said Draco, "I've seen her … in her nightgown."
"Have you seen her not in her nightgown?" said Harry.
Draco shrugged, "I've seen her feet, under a bathroom stall door, while knowing she was naked, but no, I haven't seen her, that way."
"Then I only mind, to the extent that she minded."
Draco shrugged again, "alright, thank you."
Harry shrugged, "For what?"
Draco smiled and held out his hand.
Harry tried to shake but dream reality melted and tore around all bits of motion, first just his hand reaching for Draco's, then the train itself rushed away and Harry was left floating above a grassy field with no train and no body, then the grass started failing to remain real when the ripples of wind blew on it and it couldn't remember how to grass, until there was nothing left but the purple fog of the inside of his eyelids.
He opened them.
This train seemed real enough.
"Luna?" he whispered.
"What Harry?" she moaned.
"When did you last see Draco?"
"Day before the train left Hogwarts."
"What was he doing?"
"Going to the owlry. That and Astronomy are the only things that used to ever take him above the fourth floor I think."
"Oh."
"Looking like he was two days sick with fen flu."
"Ummm, ok." Said Harry, "isn't that something that pepper-up cures immediately?"
"Yes."
"Ummm, huh… alright."
Luna yawned and rolled over.
.
Ginny returned and glanced around to make sure that it was only Harry and Luna present, then she shut the door.
And thanked Harry for the bracelet.
Harry looked at it. The squares of the band matched her contract choker. The slide loop on the side just looked like part of a muggle machine cut to snap onto the other part, the other slide loop was missing already. Both pieces were charmed or enchanted, but Harry didn't recognise what with. Perhaps something to make them not come off.
"Ginny," said Harry.
She met his gaze, her eyes seemed a bit wet.
"Are you alright?"
"You didn't want me kidnapped, the way Nim was, so you gave me them?" she said.
Harry bit his lip, "You know what they do?"
"I saw the runes, and I asked Bill straight away."
"Good thinking," said Harry, "What did he say?"
"This piece," she tapped the slide loop, "resists being portkeyed, the other part can portkey back to it. He said wearing a rune set with enough power to block portkeys would be uncomfortable, but this way I can rescue myself, as long as I do so before whoever tossed me a trap portkey picks up the anchor piece and can apparate or floo away with it."
Harry nodded, "It's relatively ingenious."
She smiled, "He said it might be a useful way of safely getting down if I fell off a broom, then did a bunch of calculations and said no, the slowing charm would be more reliable, preferably also a cushioning charm."
"Fair enough," said Harry.
"But activating it, and portkeying up on top of it while it's trying to fall from your wrist to the floor is still the main way to take it off."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Or if you just decide that you want the lock ring on the opposite side."
She frowned, "What's wrong?"
"First off, that scenario also means if they merely stun you first, or apparate with you, it's irrelevant."
She shook her head, "side along apparition requires consent." She narrowed her eyes like she'd just tasted the lie in her own words, "or the victim to be unconscious," she rolled her eyes, "or imperious, confundus isn't enough, is actively more likely to cause more and worse splinching than merely lack of consent will cause."
Harry thought back to the various gestures, invitations, instructions, or narrations that various adults had offered him just before side-along apparating him anywhere. Apparently, the consent didn't need to be formally stated for legal reasons, but for magical reasons, the mage doing the apparition had to not be fighting the magic of the passenger. Therefore, logic dictated, it might possibly be safe, (though highly illegal, obviously) to side along apparate an unwilling muggle.
"Good to know," said Harry. Harry sighed, "More to the point. I didn't send that to you."
She frowned harder, "But … Luna got one too … I figured it was you or err Padfoot, it was signed House of Potter, but it wasn't your handwriting."
"Merlin," said Harry.
Ginny got up and started doing a defence kata that Harry had never seen before. He wondered which of her brothers had seen her doing D.A. practice drills, and showed her some more. She had an abstracted look on her face. Which might mean something about how far she was from memorising the drill, or it might mean she'd started the drill as a form of meditation.
"They're from our Aunt Margaid, aren't they?" whispered Luna, she picked up her foot to show off that she was wearing hers as an anklet.
"I'm going to assume that until I hear otherwise," said Harry.
Luna nodded and put her foot back on the floor. "Where do you think the other anchors are?"
Harry blinked at her, she was right of course, the pretty centre section was very evidently designed to have two side loops snapped on. That they each only possessed one, strongly implied that the other was already in a place of the gift-giver's choosing.
He stared out the window, "somewhere on Potter estate, I imagine," said Harry.
"Hidden somewhere small and safe and lit only with frosty moon runes, with the ground cushioned with a pile of clibbert furs?"
"Somehow," said Harry, "That would not surprise me."
"So the main danger," said Ginny, "is if someone grabs an anchor while it's unattended."
"Oh," said Luna, "I know this one. Harry, get out your engraving tools."
"Sure," said Harry.
By the time he'd gotten them out, she'd scooted her bum to the far end of the bench and had her ankle up on the seat and ready for him to work on.
"I'm ready," he said, "What's the design?"
"A sher mark, of course," said Luna.
"Right," said Harry, "Then only Lion's-Keep and Aunt Margaid herself can see them to move them if we are kidnapped via portkey."
.
He got out a piece of heavy leather to wrap her leg because he didn't quite trust the steadiness of his hand on a moving train. Even if it was one of the gentlest riding trains that still ran on wheels and not super magnets.
After he'd marked both of their un-portkey-able portkey anchors, and they'd bought and eaten pasties from the refreshment cart, they grabbed books and settled in to snuggle and revise.
"Do you think," said Luna, "that the activation phrases to the other anchors will be anything easy to figure out by accident?"
"No idea," said Harry, "do you already know the activation phrases towards the anchors you do have?"
"Yes, and tested them," said Luna.
"Good," said Harry.
"And yes, I tested it before I put it on."
"Good," said Harry.
.
...-...
The Unexpected House Suite
Content warning: group sex, splinch fetish
When they arrived at the castle Harry took the shortcut through the kitchen tapestry, and stopped by Lion's-Keep to drop off homework and other things before making his way to Gryffindor to catch up with Hermione.
Hermione wasn't in evidence, and no one who'd stayed over admitted to knowing her expected schedule, though in the next breath they all asked if he'd checked the library yet.
He went back out to Lion's-Keep, planning to check for any notes as to her whereabouts before checking the library.
And then he heard a whisper of sound from the loo and went to look.
No, there wasn't a faucet left dripping. He looked around until he saw a shadow that didn't make sense. In the far corner, by the loo stall that tended to get used for non-toxic failed potion disposal, rather than as a loo. There was something disillusioned, not visible but still casting a shadow. He poked it with a quill and his wand until he figured out that it was a long piece of parchment. That might be quite a long explanatory note, and an odd place to put it. Unless no one was meant to find it until showers tomorrow morning or something.
He cancelled the disillusion.
It wasn't a note, it was a portal. As cheaply made as possible, and probably intended to be disposed of after not much longer.
He stepped through.
And found himself in a dim and horribly mangled imitation of the room he'd just left. Feeling like he'd just stepped into a bizarre mirror world, he glanced behind himself to be sure that he knew the way back.
Same sized piece of parchment, the same runic explanation of what a portal should be. That at least was correctly done. And this side wasn't disillusioned.
He looked around again. The stall partitions and plumbing and fixtures were coated in runes of, 'keep this conjured thing in existence.' Except that the supply pipes also had runes of 'conjure water until this pipe is full,' except they were written differently. He felt each in turn, the difference must be how to conjure hot water and cold water, and these were in a rune language he wasn't comfortably fluent in, unlike the language that Patil's grandmother used. He wished he'd known those runes earlier.
Just to be sure his arithmancy wasn't crazy, he turned a tap, it started dripping, he turned it even farther, it barely dripped any faster.
Right.
He turned it back off.
So they hadn't heard of positive pressure or gravity feed. Or just hadn't figured out how to implement them yet.
He went into a stall and opened the tank on the back of the loo, it appeared to have all the right shaped fixtures inside, but the tank was barely wet across the bottom. Made sense. He doubted they would work without enough pressure, and who knows if the valves were even the right shapes on their insides.
He closed the tank and went out, into a dimly lit abandoned classroom, now fitted with curtains down the middle both ways, dividing it into quarters, the fraction he was in had a table and chairs, the table cloth and chair covers were runed to maintain a comfortable temperature. So were the curtains. In fact, so many things were runed that way that the air had a positively 'spring afternoon' temperature to it.
As he turned in place to continue his assessment, he saw between a gap in the curtain to a bed, and someone sitting on it. He stepped closer to the gap and saw Crabbe, in what might in fact be the wizard equivalent of a shift, it was different than Harry's version, less tight at the waist, simpler lines and fewer pleats, maybe no pleats, but perhaps a bit more room to lift one's arms over one's head. Also made from real fabric rather than leather. Then he saw what Crabbe was holding.
Who's leg was that? And where did he get it?
Or did he just conjure it?
And how much extra mental effort did it take to conjure or transfigure a body part instead of a whole body and…
And what kind of fetish was that anyway?
And there was another leg beside him. Two arms, bound at the wrists and dangling from the canopy support above his head.
And was he wiggling them? or were they wiggling on their own and, what was…
Harry hadn't realised he was stepping forward until he passed through the curtain and also through a barrier of silence.
The sound that hit him immediately drew his attention away from Crabbe, and towards where Crabbe was looking.
On another bed, a naked Goyle was thrusting into Pansy, a Pansy without arms or legs. No blood or bandages though, instead Pansy wore nothing except a necklace, and a harness seemingly made of four pieces of parchment, and some string to hold them in place. Her eyes were closed, and her grimace was that of the intense hunger before orgasm.
Harry turned his head away, and after a moment's concentration, glanced again at Crabbe, or more specifically at the loose limbs around him. Yes, their random wiggling, was in rhythm to the stimulation that Goyle was administering, and patches of parchment covered the expected joints, explaining how they were portaled across the room, to where Crabbe could pet them, and Pansy could not use them to help or hinder her situation. And the string around her wrists matched the string across her chest, holding the other patches in place.
Then Goyle grunted and halfway froze.
Pansy's eyes opened and she shared a look with Goyle, then she called out, "get ready, Vince. It's almost your turn."
So she didn't need a rescue, therefore Harry wasn't needed here.
Harry took a step backwards. Her eyes snapped around to him, she narrowed her eyes, for a moment, then smirked and shrugged, and returned her attention to Goyle.
Harry took another step backwards, which took him through the curtain and again into silence.
He made his way to the other part in the curtain, another bed, on it, crouched a hufflepuff firstie in full uniform except for shoes, proclaiming at full volume … advanced ward arithmancy at Nott, and Nott was smiling indulgently at her. And he was also in full uniform except for shoes.
They both glanced at him, the girl quieted slightly but did not stop. Theo merely waived and shrugged. And the girl, as soon as she knew she still had Theo's attention went back to proclaiming at full volume. Shades of Hermione, except … they weren't arguing, she just seemed to think recitations of what she'd learned so far were required. It certainly used less parchment than Hermione's triple-required-length essays. It probably also took less time to yell than to write.
At a lull, Theo nodded, and prompted her with a two-word comment, which set her off on another tear. Then he waved Harry indicatively onward, through the curtain that would take him through into the last quarter of the classroom.
Harry accepted the direction with a nod and walked through.
Three more beds, along the curtain walls, four desks and a door along the outer wall. Three arrows were inked on the wall pointing toward the doorknob. As if it were invisible and everyone was tired of being unable to find it. There did seem to be one of Harry's runes close by in that direction.
Two of the desks were … extremely adjacent. Draco and Hermione sat at them pouring over what seemed to be a single piece of parchment and three textbooks.
Draco sniffed, and they both spun to face him.
Hermione's wand was drawn, but when she saw him, she smiled and lowered it.
"Hello Harry!" she said.
"Hey, Hermione," he said, "Hi, cousin Draco."
Draco relaxed.
Hermione got up and hugged him. In his ear, she whispered, "I wish you'd been here, though I'm glad no one else was."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes," she said, "How was your Christmas?"
"Christmas was great," said Harry, "how was yours?"
She pulled back and looked at him, "how horrified would you be if I told you I kept Yule this year?"
"I'm ninety per cent indifferent," said Harry, "I've been keeping both since Draco invited me over that first time."
Draco smirked.
"Hmm," said Hermione.
"At least in my head, a six-day spread to open presents seems a non-negative," said Harry, "though I notice that the wizarding tradition of delivering presents oneself, with time to visit, leading up to yule, matches some muggle small-town traditions, with visiting or mass or both on Christmas eve or Christmas morning, and the other on the other day, and boxing day the day after."
"Certainly," said Hermione.
"Why the angst?" said Harry.
"Trying to choose traditions for House of Granger."
"Oh!" said Harry, "Is that where I am?"
Hermione shrugged.
"I wondered what I'd just stepped into, and whether I ought to expect an explanation."
Hermione drew herself up, "Let me make one thing perfectly clear…"
"Marry Poppins?" said Harry.
Hermione grinned, "I often explain everything, you might get bored."
"I might," agreed Harry, "but I don't mind a summary."
Draco hopped up and tapped his wand at a space above the door, which after a moment revealed a wooden plaque which read:
"House of Granger
est. December 15, 1995
(patents pending)"
There were several competing design motifs arranged in what someday with a lot of simplification and systematisation might become a coat of arms.
"Oh," said Harry.
Draco stepped away and sat down.
The plaque faded. At first Harry thought it had faded into disillusionment, but after a few seconds, he decided it had changed into a rock the same colour as the wall.
"That's impressive," said Harry.
"We're planning to do the door," said Draco, "So we don't need to rely on your rune, but we're not there yet."
"Like the slytherin common room," said Harry.
Draco nodded, but cocked an eyebrow, "you've seen it?"
"Sure," said Harry, "You let me in, in our second year."
"I don't remember that," said Draco.
"I wanted to interview you about whether you knew who was the Heir of Slytherin, figured you'd be more comfortable answering questions in your own common room."
"I really don't remember that," said Draco, "are you sure you weren't dreaming?"
Harry opened his mouth.
"More to the point," said Draco, "why would you think I'd be more comfortable admitting to something like that with more ears around?"
"Because," said Harry, "back then, I could only think like a slytherin or a gryffindor, not yet both at once."
"Oh," said Draco.
Hermione poked him. And gave him a stern look.
"And it might have been just a dream," said Harry, "my last weird dream was talking to you on the new years express."
Draco startled, "and?"
"You asked forgiveness for … muscling in on my turf, and sleeping with … Luna."
Draco opened his eyes very wide. Hermione was rigid.
"You were very clear that it was co-sleeping, and not sex," said Harry, "and I told you that, I understood you were bound by the rules of hospitality, and there was nothing for me to forgive."
Draco relaxed and gave him a very odd smile.
Hermione relaxed marginally. And they looked at each other.
After several silent seconds, Draco turned to Harry and said, "and if there had been sex?"
Harry shrugged, and then it was his turn to freeze, "Depends on whether we're really talking about Luna, or if we're talking about Hermione."
"Hmm," said Draco, "answer about each."
"Both are my friends," said Harry, "and I don't own either of them. If there was rape, I'd have things to say, probably at wandpoint, but fully and properly negotiated sex isn't … directly my business."
Draco nodded.
"However, Luna's protection is my responsibility," said Harry, "I'd rather … a certain amount of fair warning, not that she owes me to let me make any decisions for her, but that I'd like to be extra alert to when she might need extra time to talk through new experiences, or the old memories that new experiences might stir up."
Draco and Hermione both nodded.
"So, What's next," said Harry, "and please don't say, more dreams."
Hermione shook her head, "that was quite enough of that, but I have a related question."
"Go ahead."
"If my patents go through … such that … but never mind that … May … do I still have your blessing to marry Theo?"
Harry smiled, "anyone who makes you happy," said Harry, "I just imagined he could make you happy in two dimensions, that I or Ron might only handle one each, I know you have more dimensions than that, so … don't assume there's no one better."
"There might not be, in the House of Granger."
Draco was making an odd expression, but … he mostly seemed amused.
"You might not need to restrict yourself to looking in House of Granger," said Harry, "though perhaps it would be simplest to do so for several reasons."
"Yeah."
"Also," said Harry, "you're both still growing, and I've heard good things about how working together, and especially toward the same goal, can cause becoming more and more compatible with each other."
"Hmm," said Hermione, "alright, thanks."
"No problem," said Harry, "any advice for my elder step-sister."
Draco gave them a wide-eyed look.
Hermione waved him away and returned to her desk. And waved again this time at Draco.
"What was that?" said Harry.
"That was, yes well, your tribute is accepted and accounted for. Draco's turn to talk again."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"You two have such a weird relationship," said Draco.
Harry shrugged.
Draco and Hermione, almost simultaneously, glanced at their desks.
"Um, Do you mind leaving," said Hermione, "I might come to find you in … fifteen minutes, or at dinner."
"It's fine," Harry nodded, "It's your house."
"Thanks."
He backtracked. Through Theo's room.
Now she was quiet and Theo was giving her a tour of something that sounded even more esoteric. He almost stopped and asked Theo to be the one to take responsibility for Pansy and co knowing and being careful with testing the failure distances of their portals before they stuck body parts through them, but … he wasn't sure he could convey the seriousness of the problem without giving the little firstie nightmares, so he just waved and kept walking.
The girl waved back absently, but kept mostly focused on Theo's quill, pointing out the various parts of the diagram.
.
Harry tried not to, but he couldn't keep from glancing in on Pansy and co as he passed the gap in the curtains. Crabbe was taking his turn. Goyle hadn't dressed yet, he stood with his foot up on a bed, and was watching the other two while halfheartedly wiping himself down, head to toe.
After a second he managed to wrench his eyes away and get out of there.
.
Back in Lion's-Keep he re-disillusioned the portal parchment, but drew a soap line around it on the tile, with Parvati's dark purple soap, he wouldn't be the first to use it for writing on the cream-coloured tile. Above that, he artistically added the wavy furrow lines of a newly ploughed field, the main motif he'd identified from Hermione's house plaque.
He considered for several seconds about writing 'House of Granger' or a roster as best he knew it, and about that washroom that someone had gone through a lot of trouble to conjure, but which wouldn't ever work until it was redesigned in at least one place. And about their front door which few enough of them could see that they'd needed to paint arrows on the wall to the doorknob.
He went out and got his quill and a chair, and inked his rune on the lintel of both door-frames to the loo, careful to claim just each door-frame and the doorway through each frame. That wouldn't keep them out, but it should communicate where they were, and were not, welcome.
He put the chair away.
It wasn't that their progress so far was pathetic, it was only that … in only two weeks they hadn't made a lot of progress overall, merely they'd made a tremendous amount of progress for only two weeks.
Compared to Lion's-Keep, they were moving extremely fast. But perhaps with something to imitate, and the awareness of what they might be aiming for, they could be consciously more creative about what they wanted. Also, he suspected, everything they'd done, they'd done themselves, whereas most of Lion's-Keep had been done by an anonymous adult, probably Snape.
He sat down at his desk and composed a letter:
.
"To Parkinson, and as many of your associates as it concerns,
"It has come to my attention that you've begun using a rune-set that I devised for use on cow leather, and are using it on a different but similar material. I wish you well in your endeavours.
"However, I wondered if you have been using due caution when testing its capabilities. I have found that on cow leather it will fail at between a quarter-mile, and about 900 meters. When testing the limits of the same rune set on parchment, please use an inanimate test mass."
.
He thought seriously about adding a clause about her being prettier with all her limbs, and several variations about almost no one being prettier with permanent maiming, but couldn't figure one that wouldn't either get him in trouble or encourage her to add 'maiming in a runes project accident' to her list of punishments to exact on enemies.
He almost put it aside, then remembered, and continued.
.
"In a related topic, water likes to flow downhill, even conjured water, I'd recommend testing a source pipe about 40 feet tall, if that isn't enough 48 feet might be enough, one of those will work significantly better than the other, but I don't know which is more ideal with the runes you're using.
"Good luck with your experiments,
"~A friend of a friend."
.
He went to the owlry and gave it to Hedwig. And watched in amusement as she ransacked his mind for who to give it to, and whether breakfast was ideal, then placed it at the back of her nest and went back to sleep.
"Good girl," he said and returned downstairs.
.
...-...
{End Chapter 23}
A/N: Your reading assignments, (if you want them) on why committees are a horror trope all by themselves:
'On That Day Began Lies' by Leonard E. Read. And, 'Not Yours to Give,' by David Crockett.
All the rest of the horror here is my fault, I don't know what I was thinking, somehow it seemed like a good idea at the time.