Aerial Serendipity
Susan cheered for Hufflepuff because of house obligations. But mostly she watched Ginny.
Ginny might be a great seeker, but she looked almost as natural as a chaser. Susan wondered just which god the Gryffindor team had offended for them to be down two chasers so that Ginny could play.
And given those odds, how was it that they were down chasers instead of Harry? Who by all accounts would rather not play and give Ginny a chance to prove herself. To say nothing of how his luck sometimes seemed to imitate a drama queen at his expense.
Several times while Ginny carried the quaffle Susan had a niggling doubt about the fairness of the game when the Gryffindor uniforms were the same colour as the quaffle. The regulation on quaffles had chosen scarlet to make it stand out from the mud, letting it blend in with one team's uniforms didn't seem entirely honourable.
She did not voice her suspicions aloud, the only friend she had who would appreciate the conspiracy angle was Luna, and Luna might appreciate it too much and spread it around in all the wrong ways.
Susan returned her eyes to the quaffle. There was something distinctly familiar about it. The size of it, the shape of it.
She wondered how much it weighed compared to certain other things she could think of.
She came back from a rather pleasant daydream to watch Ginny catch a bad pass from Belle whose impressive interception seemed just shy of two different penalties, if Hufflepuff's chaser hadn't been afraid to be hit, he could have taken the blow, and then the free shots. Then again, Belle wasn't that much smaller than Johnson.
Susan bit her lip, there were all different ways to play, and gryffindor's current style seemed … a little more violent than the average.
Then again maybe Belle had a valid grudge regarding why Spinnet and Dunbar weren't playing today. But are my chasers a valid target for that? or merely a convenient scapegoat?
Then Cadwallader made an excellent interception only to catch a bludger to the ribs, forcing him into a barely-safe sloth grip roll. Before he'd regained his equilibrium, his accidental swerve had ploughed him into Ginny and knocked her off her broom.
For a moment it looked like she'd be able to do a sloth grip roll herself, but she'd had one hand off her broom to make that pass, and the other now looked broken. For several seconds she managed to hold on with her knees but rather than pull up, or around, she just stared in fascination at the ground she was plummeting towards.
And then with an oddly happy cry, she kicked away from her broom in a horrible, slow motion, but graceful, attempt to orient herself in the air, and then one of her blue-green wings beat once to orient her just a little bit more, then another, then time froze, or at least it did for her. Because she had three of her four feet on the ground, despite the rest of her still being six meters up.
She straightened her spine, then twitched her four glittering blue-green wings out to symmetrical, then adjusted them just far enough off symmetrical to account for not taking any support from the hoof she was favouring, then she arched her neck up and stared into the staff box. The wind caught at her mane and blew it free. Unmistakable Weasley red.
That wasn't fair!
At least the rest of her seemed a normal bay, though there were patches of cream or grey that might hint that she'd go white by her early adulthood. And maybe the dark blue-green of her wings wasn't a normal colour but more of a pseudo-metallic sheen on the surface of black feathers.
Professor McGonagall whooped out her congratulations, followed immediately by cheers from all of Lion's-Keep, who were already standing, Susan among them. Susan shot golden sparkles into the air, mostly so it would be less obvious that she'd drawn her wand in case a cushioning charm had been needed.
Most of the students of the 1995 animagus seminar joined in with the sparks and cheering.
Then Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle complaining about the huge spate of fouls, and Ginny was limping off the field, and lowering herself to the ground so she could transform back to human and have her wrist examined. One of her teammates chased down her broom.
"What the hell was that?" said Annabel.
"That was an astropin!" said Hanna.
"And … we need to know that by OWLs?" said Annabel.
"No," said Hanna, "There was a lot of drama last September when we found out that Ginny's animagus form was something magical, and possibly extinct, so she might never learn how to transform. Everyone in the animagus class heard about it."
"Oh," said Annabel, "Why didn't I see a sign-up for that class?"
"It's not very popular," said Hanna, "Most people take it in their sixth year, once they've dropped history and potions, or their seventh year after they've spent their sixth year reading all the prerequisites, (assuming they are not ravenclaws and somehow manage to read all that just to feel comfortable that they'd pass their transfiguration OWL."
Annabel groaned, "I'm going to be miserable OWL year won't I?"
"It's not so bad," said Susan, "You don't need to be an animagus to pass your NEWTs, but preparing for it, even if you fail, will definitely help your transfiguration grade."
"Also, I suspect, your divination and potions grades," said Hanna, "if you even care about those."
"Um, where did she go?" said Ernie.
"Madam Pomfrey got to her, and either healed her or not," said Susan, "I thought yes because she stopped holding her wrist. Then Professor McGonagall took her off to talk with her, probably won't be long, they don't want to forfeit their penalty shots. But not forgetting how to transform into a once-in-a-generation sort of animal, after a once-in-a-lifetime inspiration," Susan shrugged, "If I was her, I'd care more about the transformation than the forty or so extra points we're likely to get off them if she just quits early."
"Conversely," said Hanna, "if being up in the air helped her transform, maybe she ought to stay up in the air as much as she can for the rest of the day."
"Maybe," said Susan.
"There she is," said Annabel.
And there she was, striding out from behind the stands impossibly fast, with her legs long enough to keep her ten meters up in the air. When she got to where the rest of her team waited by their brooms, she shortened her legs until she was no higher than an abraxan, then transformed human, and accepted her broom from Harry.
Within three minutes the game was in progress again.
"Well," said Susan, "In any sane world, that would be at least second-page news tomorrow."
Hanna shrugged, "True, but I bet you it's fourth- or fifth-page."
"No bet," said Susan.
"At least it's likely to make Transfiguration Today," said Hanna.
"Only if someone writes it up," said Susan.
"I'll tell my mum to remind McGonagall," said Hanna.
"Ah," said Susan.
.
...-...
Greyback's Price
Harry looked up from his book to listen: Several meters from the Old Cottage's back veranda, Ginny and Mel were fighting something in the magical greenhouse, mostly with severing charms. As there was more grunting and vindictive laughter than shouts of surprise, they were probably still fine.
Nim was out behind the greenhouses ostensibly hunting squirrels, but she'd taken a long break to curl up on a sunny root and hadn't moved for half an hour. Stormy was still in seal form, and given that Mel had put down her carry-sling in a patch of sunlight, she hadn't moved far. And probably would move even less now that Hider (Luna) and Holder (Susan) had found her and curled up in their animal forms on both sides of her. Though Holder had not tried to sleep, instead she was intently studying the map of the estate that Padma had found for her. Every once in a while she would growl or wag her tail in a way that implied the map had a lot more information on it than Harry had noticed when he'd glanced over it an hour ago.
Which left Parvati in the chair beside him working through another potions recipe she wanted to modify, and Padma on the corner of the veranda snickering her way through another of her 'Arithmancer' mystery novels, in which the heroine always saves the day, (or sometimes makes it significantly worse) with a liberal application of arithmancy and potions trivia. Harry was suspicious that it might be the mage equivalent of science fiction but was scared to broach the topic where Susan or Ginny could hear him and bog the argument down on what science was, vs. what the orthodox pureblood worldview taught that it was. Those arguments tended to be exactly as unproductive as arguments about what constituted 'dark' magic with anyone who hadn't read ahead in either potions or charms or arithmancy to at least OWL level.
The noise that had roused him repeated itself, and he got up. Padma looked up.
"Company," said Harry.
"Company company," said Padma, "or 'company' company?"
"Don't know. Wotcher, who is at the front door?"
[Fenrir Greyback][A map of old cottage grounds from the road and wood line in front to the greenhouses' compost trail and the other wood line.]
"Greyback and your grandmother. They are far enough apart, I'd guess she's there to warden him, not bodyguard him. But I'm not counting on it, not sure whether he knows she's there."
"Of course, he knows," said Luna, now in human form, "But what can he do?"
Susan was also in human form and checking that her wands were loose in their holster.
She blinked at him, then changed to Leona.
Fair enough, there were plenty of reasons he'd have his wives and heads of families here, less reason to have the heir of a house that wasn't yet publicly his ally.
Harry recoiled at the thought of letting that mage into his house, so instead, he moved to the corner of the house and called out, "We're around back."
He barely had time to register Greyback and the expression he wore before he caught sight of the size of the snake across the road in the bushes behind him.
Things fell into place, he started forward, "Lord Greyback," he said, "Thank you for coming if you'll pardon me a few seconds."
Greyback froze and stared at him, then after him as he brushed past and rushed across the road to kneel in the snow.
"Grandmother Gaunt," he said, "thank you for the book, and the blessings toward helping and protecting your granddaughters. Will you be joining our discussion this afternoon, or are you just out to patrol and enjoy the sun?"
She lifted her head to his eye level, which granted was much lower than usual. She tongued the air for several seconds.
"Polite grandchild," she mused, "I can see why Observer Granddaughter tolerates you, but why does Dashing Granddaughter like you?"
"I think, because I remind her of Padma, sometimes. But enough not at other times for her to enjoy the difference."
Nagini snickered. It was a strange sound.
"I'd say that you remind me of both her parents, but given that she likes you, perhaps that goes without saying, let us go see them."
Harry thought about that for a moment before starting to climb to his feet. But she stopped him with a "Wait."
He paused, "Yes, Grandmother?"
"Nagini is fine, I'm not that old, what do you call big Pearl?"
"Call him 'Aunt Pearl'."
Nagini snickered again, "You may call me Aunt Nagini."
"Yes … Grandmother," said Harry.
She snickered, "You did that on purpose, insolent brat."
"Yes, I did."
"Carry me to my granddaughters, I can tell you want the test of strength, and to frighten the big wolf."
"If you're sure you don't mind."
She clicked her jaw like she was going to snicker again, but she did not make the noise. "I also enjoy dominance games, I would not begrudge you, them. Young one."
I guess I can't argue with that.
"Hold still," she said and slithered up and onto his shoulders. The first contact with her skin was cold from being on the ground, but quickly she was much warmer than Harry would have expected from a snake.
Parvati had mentioned something about size and exercise working together to help large snakes stay warm and limber during the winter. He wondered if that was true of all large snakes, or just magical ones with an ambition worth getting out of bed in the morning.
Harry climbed to his feet with the extra weight. He guessed over sixty pounds, maybe eighty, definitely not as much as Ginny's weight in animagus form. Luckily also, Nagini knew what balance was and was helping with that.
He made his careful and deliberate way back around the house.
Greyback stood at the corner of the veranda.
Luna and Leona were somewhat frozen, transfixed by his stare, Padma was making her second-best impression of ignoring everything in favour of her book.
Parvati seemed at a loss, but not as tense as the others.
Ginny and Mel in the nearest greenhouse were unnaturally quiet.
Harry walked past Greyback again and up the steps, deliberately passing just close enough for Nagini's tail to brush his elbow.
"Lady Black, Mrs. Patil," he said, "The Lady Gaunt is here to see you."
"Hello grandmother, welcome," said Parvati, and helped her slither down off Harry's shoulder onto her lap, chair, and the sunlight pooling on both sides.
Once that was done Harry left them to negotiate comfortable positions and postures in Parseltongue and English, while he returned to his own chair. "Lord Greyback, thank you for coming, please, grab a chair, unless you're like some of us and prefer the sun-warmed deck to the chairs that have been stored in the shadow to keep the weather off of them.
Greyback grunted and moved to claim an empty chair.
Harry would have to have been blind not to notice how Stormy had perked up at his grunt and looked around.
"Alright," said Greyback, "What's this all about?"
"I'm afraid I … inconvenienced you and your followers' last full moon … more than a trifle … and while I won't completely rescind the safety policy that I decided upon, I'd like you to advise me what modifications to make it as minimally disruptive to them as possible."
Greyback growled and his eyes narrowed, (but narrowed strangely as if a different group of muscles across his cheekbones tensed rather than the normal one. As if narrowing his eyes was the first shade of baring his teeth, rather than an expression in its own right.)
"After the first full moon, the wards suggested that isolating werewolves by families and friend-groups was more ideal than alone, or sorting by aggression levels. I accepted that change, but I wondered if you have more suggestions, or even, better nuance on that suggestion."
Greyback stared.
"Also, I wished to apologise to you and your pack for not consulting with you beforehand, and for not spelling out in advance exactly how to avoid being targeted by the wards' new protective rules."
Greyback scowled. Then nodded. Then he sighed and looked away.
His eyes fell on Stormy who had shifted human-ish and let her seal skin drift to the floor.
She had seemed smooth-skinned and slightly green the first time Harry saw her, Now her shoulders and hips were covered with faint welts, and streaks of scabbing on her cheekbone.
"Big?" she said.
Greyback twitched.
"Big!" she exclaimed, and jumped up and climbed onto his lap.
He stared at her. She pulled his hands out of her way and unbuttoned his robes just far enough to duck under them to embrace him, then snuggle in. And she went still.
There was a shocked stillness.
Even Greyback was silent, just frowned down at her for most of a minute, before poking near one of the sets of welts on the side of her leg, the welts went pink, and another set of parallel lines appeared and turned purple. He pressed harder, and yet another mass of lines appeared below the first two patterns, these of chaotic orientations, and random widths. He let go and everything faded except the newest set of claw marks. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. After a moment he drew his wand and levitated her seal skin up over what remained exposed of her back, then put his wand away and lowered his arms around her again. And closed his eyes again.
Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he'd seen her tense from the moment his magic touched her seal skin to the moment it made contact with her back.
Greyback returned his gaze to Harry, "On the part of my pack I accept your apology for the lack of warning. Though on my own behalf, I cannot entirely accept it, it was a fairly obvious pattern, and unlike the less experienced, I can see farther through the fog of pain and blood. And, as you can see, I found something human enough to hold my attention, and immune to the curse in several different ways."
Harry suppressed the urge to shiver.
"And which your wards knew did not need protection from me."
Nope that was an oversight on my part, thought Harry, "I can adjust the wards."
"But you won't," said Greyback, "it would disappoint her so, to have her 'big' taken away from her."
"Stormy?" said Harry.
She unburrowed from Greyback's robes and looked at Harry, "What?"
Greyback's hand slid up to the back of her head and rubbed absently. By the look of it, he was being careful to apply fingertips not nails.
"Do you like Mr. Greyback?" said Harry.
"Yes," she said, "is he for sale? Can Muma afford to get him for me?"
"No," swallowed Harry, "I don't think she can."
"Then, Can … you buy me from Muma? I … I think she'd … trade me for a Luna like yours."
"Fascinating," said Luna, and glanced in the direction of the Greenhouses where Ginny and Mel were standing, Ginny gripping Mel's hand hard enough that she could turn them both invisible.
"I'm sure it would take several weeks if not months to arrange anything that complex," said Harry, "all I wanted to know was whether I needed to find a cage for either one of you, to keep the other away."
She pursed her lips together, "Putting him in a cage so I can get him when I want him?"
Now it was Greyback's turn to be tense, and he was tense. And that 'get him' hadn't sounded social, it sounded predatory.
"That's what you want?"
She nodded, "I think he doesn't like cages though."
She pursed her lips harder and turned away. And snuggled down again, this time against Greyback's far shoulder. With her own cloak spread across her back, she didn't seem to feel the need to duck under his robes.
"What?" said Parvati.
"Crying," said Greyback, "mage culture is like a tree, or no, an iceberg to her, she can only feel the bottom, and expects the whole volume to be like the surface that she can hear."
"She doesn't sound like she's crying," said Padma.
"Why would a sea mammal do anything so wasteful as sob?" asked Greyback, "when the air for each breath is a luxury."
Padma's eyes went wide, and she nodded once.
"I presume," said Harry, "the ideal case we all should be striving toward is for the minimum number of people to be shut up in cages and for the minimum amount of time required to keep everyone safe."
"Define safe," said Greyback.
He has a sense of humour, though perhaps a very house of lords sense of humour.
"I'm not for sale," clarified Greyback glaring right at Harry, "But you are perhaps the only person who could afford to purchase just my loyalty."
"How so?" said Harry.
"It is public record that you voted for both the Gaunt amendment, and the Black amendment to the Umbrage werewolf bill, and then for the bill itself."
Harry nodded.
"Or should I say, the Fenrir Greyback amendment, and the Remus Lupin amendment, to the Potter werewolf bill?"
"Ah," said Harry, "I think that qualifies as flattery."
"Does it?" said Greyback, "Hmm, I seem to remember overhearing sometime last summer, someone about that size," he waved a hand at Susan, who was currently being Leona, "grilling and gas-lighting a dark lord about the vague uselessness of his long term politics, compared to what he could have already accomplished with a lot less effort. Which resulted in him completely reorganising the schedule from intensive training for war, and selecting strategic targets, to training for peace, selecting high priority or low-hanging legal reforms, and studying the moods of the classes, to put those reforms into an optimal sequence and structure, to … surf a wave of predictable future public opinion."
Harry wasn't sure whether to smile or blink in surprise.
Nagini snickered, "the mute one stays alert, and thinks deep thoughts, it is good that he recognises what we can do, as he cannot do them himself."
Greyback didn't even flinch, only waited politely for her to finish, then continued, "And eventually, once it had switched over to a politics question he brought in his sisters to help with strategy and implementation. Oh, and most of our raids since have been sneaking in and copying calendars. Which didn't make sense, until I realised that he'd also gained control over the Misslethorpe blackmail files, and he was stacking the Wizengamot, including getting your vote back into your hands, and out of Dumbledore's pocket."
Harry nodded, "It is an interesting timeline."
Greyback smirked and sat back.
A few seconds of silence, "Figured it went without saying: the main physical outcome of the night was that your alleged familiar escaped from the Dark Lord's zoo, and all without anyone raising their wand at you with lethal intent. It leads one to several fairly obvious conclusions, in hindsight."
Harry smiled wryly. There wasn't anything he could say about any of that which would help the situation. So he kept quiet. Which meant letting Greyback's evidence stand, which meant letting Greyback's flattery stand, which meant …
"And you don't think it dangerous to discuss selling your loyalty in front of his sister?"
Greyback grunted, "He knows exactly how much of my loyalty he had, and how much he lost when he finally acted, not out of concern for the plight of my people, but because you told him to."
"Hmm," said Harry, "and you don't think he didn't do exactly what he eventually meant to do, I merely woke him up, and alerted him to the danger of the Umbridge Bill."
Greyback raised an eyebrow, "If it had passed, we would just have been that much more beholden to him, and to the hope provided by his war plans, and he knew that and didn't mind."
Harry narrowed his eyes, "I think I understand your perspective of his actions, but I'm not sure you understand my perspective."
Greyback raised an eyebrow.
"Politics is supposed to move … somewhat slowly."
Greyback grunted.
"You-know-who, the Gaunt ladies, whichever or both, are getting a lot done because they're breaking rules, killing people, or at least threatening to ruin their lives, running the machine of politics with as many of the safeguards taken off as they can manage."
"And yet you vote for their legislation," said Greyback.
"Everything I voted for, I was willing, glad even, to vote for. Or … at least, mostly. I hate amendments that don't belong to the topic, being tacked on to buy votes. Each item should pass or fail on its own merits, not by being stuffed in a bag with other things that are indispensable to someone different. But never mind that. I'm never sure how much my perception of the issues is one of the things he's tracking and manipulating, just like you say he is doing for everyone else, or if he's only putting forward legislation I like to start with, to lull me into trusting his judgement."
Greyback shrugged, "You like his bills, you just don't like that some of the others must be blackmailed to do the right thing?"
Harry shrugged, "But is it the right thing? Perhaps I am deluded, and if there was a bit more discussion, I'd learn better?"
Greyback hummed for several seconds, "or perhaps you are right, but still have a beginner's tentative attitude."
"Or perhaps enough humility to listen to the other perspective before acting, or err … shortly after acting … is more ideal than assuming I'm right all the time, even if I did manage to already be right most of the time."
Greyback smiled, and after several long moments nodded, "apology accepted, I want the attackers portkeyed to the centre of your largest tract of forest, not into cells. And I want Storm Bird."
"Stormy isn't mine to give. Wotcher, show me my biggest tracts of forest."
[A familiar map, but with wooded areas highlighted.]
"And which are least traversed?"
[The same map, with seasonal variations in traffic.]
"So which of these two forests has the largest area never visited by people at night?"
[A map with just nighttime traffic, one patch of woods highlighted, another patch of woods dimly shaded.]
"What's that?"
[That forest continues outside your wards, by the variety of wildlife that encroaches from that direction, I infer that it is quite large.]
"Yeah, I think there's a national forest in that direction," said Parvati, "Does it allow camping?"
[I do not have information about that.]
"Until we find out, we'll ignore it," said Harry, "Wotcher, Change the rule about werewolves to: the first time moving a transformed werewolf each night, move them to the centre of this forest area, if there are muggles or mages that aren't animagi in the forest at the time, move them to the centre of the area that remains. The second or following times a werewolf must be moved each night, put them in cells as before."
Wotcher repeated back the entire rule, with simpler concepts, it took most of two minutes.
"Exactly," said Harry.
[Rule change accepted.]
Harry looked at Greyback, "We'll try that out, I'm not entirely comfortable that forest is large enough. And I'm very uncomfortable that I might be training werewolves that chasing humans is a shortcut to a desirable environment."
Greyback frowned, "So transport us when we transform, rather than when we approach humans."
Harry frowned.
"Except for me, I'm learning to transform intentionally, and maintaining my memories and control through it all."
"Is it safe to portkey while transforming?" said Harry.
"Good question," Greyback contemplated for most of a minute, "The arithmancy is … unclear, but several parts lead me to expect that it would be unsafe."
"Wotcher," said Harry, "any werewolf that you have to put in a cell because they leave the forest and approach another human, always move them to the forest as soon as they finish transforming, let's say, for the following year."
[Rule change understood, accepted.]
Greyback nodded and glanced down at the top of Stormy's head.
"Stormy?" said Harry.
Stormy looked up.
"Why do you like Mr. Greyback?"
"He was big?" she said, "Strong enough not to break by accident."
"What?" said Harry.
In the corner of his vision, Mel twitched.
"When I heard his loneliness song, I went and found him. He wasn't alone, but … he sang better than the others."
"Howling doesn't mean loneliness," said Greyback.
Stormy shrugged, "He was big, I touched him, he didn't run away, he just looked at me and went back to singing, so I hugged him, and he didn't squeal or break, just pulled away and stepped on me and went back to singing. So I got up and hugged him again, and I held on when he tried to pull away and kept holding on when he kept singing and tried to step on me again."
Harry swallowed. She swallowed.
"So I got him rolled over and raped him until he stopped singing. He didn't cry at all from me touching him. He didn't break apart either."
Harry blinked, "I don't know how to interpret any of that."
"Then ignore the morality of that last bit for long enough to listen to the admissions about her strength, lions kill by cracking the skull with their teeth or ripping out neck or entrails. Wolves more consistently target only the neck, though we'll target the abdomen and limbs as needed to slow it down so we can kill. Land chimpanzees tear their prey limb from limb, and begin to feed, mostly without regard for whether their prey has died yet."
"Um?" said Parvati.
Greyback shrugged, "as one of the largest and fastest of the arboreal apes, they're about five times stronger than humans. Sea chimps seem at least twice as strong to me, but she was raised by selkies to eat seaweed and fish, and avoid red meat, rather than raised by her own kind to hunt all the proteins by whatever means necessary, including … the only piece of deceptive magic she's mastered is splitting herself in two, as the selkies do."
"She's not a selkie then?" said Padma.
"No, she's a kelpie," said Greyback, "I'm interested in how she was orphaned, but it seems that happened before she was old enough to remember."
Harry looked at Padma, "does this sound at all plausible?"
"Depending on the language and tradition, yes: kelpies are shapeshifters," she shrugged, "often characterised as unstoppable forces or immovable objects, but a werewolf saying, 'no, just very very strong' is believable, the question is if that matches Adoraim."
Harry shrugged.
Padma got up, "Adoraim, do you know what a horse is?"
Stormy nodded.
"Can you turn into one?"
Stormy shrugged.
"Perhaps a white one with sticky fur?"
Stormy's eyes went glassy.
"In case your friend wants to go swimming with you, but doesn't want to walk that far, and isn't very good at staying on your back."
Stormy looked at Mel, then back at Padma, then back at Mel, "Can we go swimming more often if I carry you?"
Mel looked torn between telling her pet selkie, 'yes, of course, the only reason I haven't taken you swimming is the inconvenience of travel.' or to run away screaming from one of the deep-lake horrors whose true shape had only ever been seen by things about to be eaten, and even most of them probably never saw much through the murk. Especially when confronted with the possibility of being carried along helplessly with 'swimming' as an intended destination. She finally settled on, "you may go swimming whenever you want, but I cannot go swimming until the ice melts and … the trees have a full set of leaves."
Stormy nodded, "Even if I break the ice for you?"
"If you ever see me in water that still has ice across most of it," said Mel, "get me out as fast as you can. Unless I'm there trying to get someone else out, in which case, get both of us out."
"Oh," said Stormy, "Alright … but do you want rides places?"
Mel nodded, "Maybe, but first, maybe you should decide whether you like being a horse."
Stormy nodded seriously and wandered down off the veranda and kicked at the snow. She looked up, "Do horses like snow, or only grass?"
"Some like snow," said Harry, "But most like grass. Would you prefer to stand in one of the mint greenhouses? Or there's a stall downstairs, which is like a horse bedroom."
Stormy looked at him, then turned away towards the mint greenhouse closer to Mel. The door wouldn't open to her hand of course. Parvati ran and opened it for her, then went inside ahead of her and changed to Lightfeet.
Stormy followed and they stared at each other for a long time.
Then Stormy returned with a pronounced frown, skipping up the stairs faster than Harry had ever seen her move. She caught up her seal skin from where she'd left it across Greyback's knees, and threw it on while she pranced back down to where Lightfeet still waited.
Only she didn't 'throw it on' like a coat, she 'threw it on' like permitting a sentient coat to put itself on her. As she passed through the door, the grey-brown coat seemed to melt into her, and by the time she came to a stop, she was mostly horse-shaped and faded asymptotically towards a colour-inverted mirror image of Lightfeet.
Lightfeet moved.
The white horse with black stockings moved, then adjusted her skeleton and moved again, until she could mirror the motion. Then Lightfeet would demonstrate a different motion. And Stormy would try to copy that.
"Well," said Padma, "she's definitely not a selkie."
Aunt Nagini snickered.
Harry found himself observing from the lowest step of the veranda, with Mel on one side, and Greyback on the other.
"So," said Greyback, "May I teach her to hunt. Help her learn when to use her strength, and what her limits are, so she's not afraid of it, nor breaking her friends with it, the rest of the time?"
Harry sighed.
"Give her some friends who are more her peers in some things, and responsibilities to test herself against. So she can settle in her mind that she isn't the strongest thing on the planet, nor the stupidest of the things with magic. I'd rather she know both of those things before she meets a troll or a giant."
Harry turned to stare.
"The muggle literature calls it rough-and-tumble play," said Padma, "It's considered an especially important part of childhood development between 3 and 5. I suppose that suddenly being in a new body, or in a society made up of a different species, means needing to completely relearn your physical limits and those of everyone around you."
The logic sort of worked, but it was so alien a concept. But if it were true, what would it even look like?
"That was kind of the second thing most of us did when we got our animagus forms," said Susan-as-Leona.
Oh, … yeah, so it was.
"Your father's herd did something similar, for Remus Lupin, though they weren't hunters, so they never finished the task."
Harry shrugged, and nodded, "Wait, back up. You like her?"
Greyback smiled, "She's my kind of monster."
Affection and admiration. Instead of the condescension with a touch of inspiration that he'd shown Harry-as-Leona.
"I do not deal in slaves. I cannot, and would not even if I could, give her to you," said Harry, "though you have, (though you do not need), my permission to ask Melantha's leave to court her."
Greyback drew himself up to full height and turned to stare right at Harry.
"Thank you," he said with a tiny bow, "Though courting wasn't quite what I had in mind."
Harry shrugged, "She's not nine. Rumour puts her around thirty."
Greyback blinked, "the quick healing can be deceiving then?"
Harry nodded.
Greyback said, "So I'm not five times her age, merely twice."
Harry shrugged.
Greyback's eyes lifted, "Madam?"
And Harry realised the man was looking across the top of his head at Mel. He took a step back, which ironically also put him one stair up and almost on eye-level with Mel.
"May I have the tutelage of your ward, Adoraim or Storm Bird or whatever it is?"
"Adoraim or Stormy Petrel," said Mel, "Try not to break her heart?"
"Of course."
"And to whatever extent that's possible, don't break her skin too much either."
Greyback rolled his eyes, "The first lesson then, is to wear enough fur for the task at hand."
Mel chuckled, "And I suppose my lamb would stand out less in your company if she dressed in wolf's clothing."
Greyback shrugged, "she seems somewhat flexible if you approach the topic the correct way. If you find her a picture, she could probably match the colouration of your favourite breed."
"Hmm," Mel.
Stormy spun and stuck her head out of the doorway, resting her shoulder slightly against the frame, which groaned slightly to have something as heavy as a horse leaning on it.
"Big," she said, "are you leaving?"
It took Harry a moment to realise that she was speaking English, while shaped as a horse. As much as what she normally spoke could strictly be called 'English,' and over the next few sentences, she'd modified herself further to enunciate more clearly.
"Soon, yes."
"When will I see you again?"
"You can recognise my howl from those of the others?"
She nodded.
"Whenever you hear me howl, you may come to find me."
"How soon will that be?"
"Whenever the moon is all the way round, sometimes more often."
"Alright," she said.
"Will that be often enough?"
"Plenty," She nodded, "I get horny a third that often."
Greyback twitched, "I guess we can talk about that also."
"What else talking?" said Stormy.
"Lots of things," said Greyback, "What other sizes and shapes to be? What colour hair to grow? What things you are and are not allowed to eat?"
She frowned, "alright…"
"What games do my other wolves like to play?"
She perked up.
"May I also come to find you sometimes?" he said.
She nodded.
"How do you get home from here?"
"Muma picks me up by the inside of my tummy and drags me home while I'm inside out."
Greyback nodded, "Ah, Of course, she does. Never mind."
Stormy shrugged and looked around.
"Yes," said Greyback, "Go back to your game, enjoy."
Her cheeks bulged and the skin of her head slid in various directions that Harry was certain weren't at all the correct way for a horse to smile. "Goodbye, Mr. Greyback."
And she backed away and turned again toward Lightfeet.
"Not everything is games," said Harry.
Greyback raised an eyebrow, "What else should we call any system of shared meanings by which she cooperates with, rather than frightens monsters smarter and more dangerous than herself? What else are 'language' and 'money' and 'law' except just some of the most powerful and pervasive and rewarding of such systems?"
"Oh, dear," said Padma.
"Was that serious?" said Ginny, "I think, my head hurts."
"Alright," said Mel, "you've really convinced me … that you can help her. But I'm still … yet to be convinced that you will."
Greyback shrugged, "We'll see."
He looked around, "Lord Potter, walk with me? Madam?"
Harry followed, and so did Mel and Nagini.
When the sounds of everyone else faded behind them, he slowed but kept walking. "I'm concerned," he said finally, "The breeding schedule which she claimed ought to be hers, is only so by means of selkie acculturation. I don't know what her natural schedule should be, I'm not sure anyone knows. Kelpies are known to learn to mimic any behaviour that will get their prey into their jaws easier, even the mating rituals of every animal commonly seen within their territory, even the low-status threat displays most likely to incite mild violence against them, rather than avoid it. Anything that will bring prey within reach. That was not at all what she was doing when she pushed herself onto me based on misinterpreting wolf behaviours through the selkie traditions she knows. That seems to have been some kind of virtue signalling that I doubt I will ever understand."
"Ah," said Harry.
"If I were to just do my best to ignore her, perhaps she'd just do the same thing next month that she did last month, except next month she's unlikely to find me alone. And is likely to find me with my betas around. I think the ideal case is for me to explain to them what's going on, then call her to us, then return to human form and teach her enough to follow wolf body language, and in turn to signal the others with it. I think with one to three nights of that, she should be acculturated enough to hunt with the pack without causing problems."
"Running with your pack is not necessarily my ideal for her behaviour," said Mel.
"No," agreed Greyback, "it is the bare minimum for her not to be disruptive, if she cannot be cooperative, I'll tell her she's no longer welcome to come when I call and to only wait for my visits. If she cannot follow that either, I shall provide you with a sufficient cage to lock her up on full moon nights."
"Humph," said Mel, "and what is your ideal for her future?"
"She's already smarter than most mages are under the curse, she could be my second in command, either permanently, or at least until more of my lieutenants learn to see through the blood fog."
"I see," growled Mel.
"Why? What is your ideal?"
Mel was quiet and stared at the ground for almost three minutes. Greyback was patient. Harry didn't think it was his place to say anything.
"She didn't use to be this depressed," said Mel finally, "I'm not certain how much of that is the weather, how much is lack of exercise, how much of it is … an environment devoid of seawater. But if she's not a selkie, perhaps fresh water could do just as well."
Greyback nodded, "or perhaps it is hunting and hunting companions she needs, or any team sport to surrogate for that."
Mel shrugged.
"So mental health and stability, what else?" said Greyback.
"When I first got her, it was easy to see her as a younger sister, trying to learn to imitate everything I did, only for her to give up on mastering each thing in turn, sometimes right away, sometimes after a few days or weeks. I might not be a very good teacher, but … she's been pulling away more and more, growing lethargic. Doing less and less, unless I specifically tell her that something should be 'her chore,' or 'our chores,' in which case she'll work at it doggedly until it is finished or I tell her 'that's enough'. It feels like slave labour, instead of …. family helpfulness, but at least she gets some exercise and is more active for a few days after."
Greyback nodded, "she cares more about mastery, and less about completion, except when notified that something else is going on?"
Mel shrugged.
"And she needs more exercise than she's been getting."
"Definitely."
"And does she also need more food than she's been getting?"
Mel shrugged, "I've been feeding her the ration of canned cat food and baked potatoes that she said was correct."
"And no additional vegetables?"
Mel shrugged again, "Where can I find her seaweed? And when I do, she complains that it tastes like petrol and will barely eat it. "
Greyback nodded, "We should find out if and what vegetables are actually good for her, it's not clear from legend that they eat anything green other than grass, and even that may only be to draw in the unwary."
Mel shrugged.
Greyback looked away.
After a long pause he turned back, "Thank you for your time, if there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."
Mel shrugged.
"My ideal for her," said Harry, "much as for everyone else, is for her to feel free to be herself, without harming or frightening anyone, and the ministry not coming round with complaints of statute violations or muggle-baiting."
Greyback shook his head, "She's not a witch, the charge wouldn't be muggle-baiting, the charge would be failing to contain or destroy a dangerous xxxx beast of near-human intelligence."
"Then by all means," said Harry, "let us keep her contained and not dangerous."
"Define dangerous," said Greyback.
"Exactly," said Harry, "Is kelpie magic minimal enough that the stretch of forest we chose is remote enough to keep her from scaring muggles as she trains?"
Greyback shot him a strange look.
"As opposed to taking her to the appropriate training-themed creature reserve for her to grow into her powers and learn the rules about keeping hidden from muggles. You know, like Hogwarts."
Greyback rolled his eyes and nodded. "Hogwarts as 'the premier magical creature reserve' for mage children? And you object to me calling Money a game?"
Harry grinned, "I just didn't understand at first. Thank you for explaining."
Greyback rolled his eyes again, "to answer your question, I don't think their magic extends all that far from their bodies, so probably safe. I don't know which stretch of forest you chose for us."
"Wotcher, give him a compass point, towards where in the forest werewolves would be sent if any were to be sent right now."
Greyback flinched, then rolled his eyes, "fine, I'll check it out."
Harry nodded, "Thanks for stopping by."
Greyback stalked away. Nagini slithered after.
Due west, then taking the slightly southern fork of the road. The forest was mostly northwest from here.
"Where's he going?" said Harry.
"Sniffing out my house," sighed Mel, "Adoraim couldn't tell him verbally, so he did a cold read on us all. And he's going off to verify his guess."
"Oh," said Harry, "That's…"
"Yeah," she said, "he seems about as uncomfortable with language as I am."
"Ah," said Harry. Which sounded much safer to interpret as a statement about her own introversion, than anything definite about Greyback.
"I'm going to go back to helping Ginny," said Mel, "If he's not been and gone by the time Mum is supposed to return from work, I'll … probably ask you to come along when I tell him to leave her alone."
"Makes sense," said Harry.
They returned to the Old Cottage.
.
Susan reverted from Leona-form and started questioning him about letting Greyback stay on Potter land.
"You-know-who let him in," said Harry, "All I'm doing is making sure he doesn't infect anyone while he's here. And that he knows that."
Susan sniffed.
"Regardless of whether or not I can actually control him, is it illegal for him to be here?"
Susan shrugged, "probably not, he's just a suspected murderer and death eater, who happens to also be a werewolf."
"I know he's not marked," said Harry, "and there's the whole innocent until proven guilty thing."
Susan snorted, "He's guilty and idealistic about it."
"And will historians record him as a terrorist, or a freedom fighter?" said Harry.
"What?"
"He's killed, many soldiers have, is that murder?"
"Soldiers killing soldiers in battle isn't murder, it's national self-defence," she said, "soldiers killing the children of their enemies, … either is murder or at least, they should expect to be treated as murders, not soldiers, should their enemies get their hands on them."
"Hmm," said Harry, "That's fair. And conscripting child soldiers should be the next shade worse than either kidnapping or enslaving. Which is his reputation, Though again, innocent until proven guilty."
"Ugh, really?" said Susan, "What more proof could you want?"
"For instance?" said Harry, "interview those child soldiers and find out if they felt like he conscripted them or rescued them."
Susan stared, then sighed and nodded, "Not everything is about you."
"Precisely," said Harry.
"Um?" said Mel, "If he's wanted, why isn't it an accomplice-after-the-fact to let him hang around without reporting him to the police."
"In mage culture," said Harry, "providing sanctuary to a criminal is not a crime, it is as virtuous an act as providing sanctuary to anyone else. Though lying to the police, should they ever question you about it, is not so protected. This is an artefact left over from mages and sometimes right-thinking muggles harbouring mages and more often, misidentified muggles, from muggle law enforcement, during the genocides."
"What genocides?" said Mel.
"In Europe alone?" said Padma, "During the preparations for many of the crusades (1096 was probably the worst). Also later, though with decreasing frequency, but especially: Spain in the 1480s and 90s, France in the 1560s and 70s, Britain in the early to mid 1650s, then America in the 1680s. Most of the rest of the world too, but those and the fact of growing European colonialism, eventually led to the International Confederation of Wizards adopting the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Lots of other regions of the world show a similar 30 to 80-year cycle of violence against whichever minority is perceived to be the greatest threat to the majority, or whoever the elite find the easiest scapegoat to blame for their own misdeeds or mismanagement. Unlike other minorities, we had the technology and therefore the choice to hide, and form our own cultures as we chose, rather than being forced into ghettos by the majority."
"Unfortunately," said Harry, "we're no more free from the pattern of minority blaming than muggles are, nor from alternating generations of peace and violent upheaval. The protest group that … I think 25 to 15 years ago, brought together Greyback, and Aunt Margaid, or at least her brother, was one such group, taken in by, and preaching anti-muggle-born propaganda, though I'm still not sure if the top officers ever believed it."
"And you think that makes it better? If they didn't?" said Susan.
Harry shrugged, "I can work together with a deluded idiot whose delusions (by random chance) currently match reality. And I can work together with a hypocritical liar as long as the contract between us is ironclad and magically binding. It is the deluded idiot whose delusions don't match reality and won't listen when I point out evidence that their delusions are wrong, that person I have trouble working with. And Fenrir Greyback, a … questionably justified agitator, whose cause or goal, perhaps, has been met in seven months of legislation, where 30 years of agitation failed. If perhaps he were to learn better from this experience and go into more effective means of lobbying … I don't have a problem with him."
Susan narrowed her eyes and growled.
"Can you stop being a bulldog for long enough to review evidence where my delusions don't match reality?"
Susan clenched her teeth, "I can hardly be expected to keep the ministry's entire evidence locker in my hip pocket."
"Good point," agreed Harry, "but still, what do you know and how do you know it?"
Susan looked away, "I can't always keep up with ravenclaws and slytherins, but I know hufflepuffs, and what our strengths and weaknesses are. And now I know that he's one of us, and exactly which kind of bad he's gone. And how far gone he is. And it's not a kind that prison time could help, for his own good and that of society, someone should just put him out of his misery."
"Oh, umm," said Harry.
I have no idea how to argue against that, or even if I should.
I warned you that she's a prude. Just, one of the hufflepuff kinds.
I'll concede that point, but that doesn't help me decide how or if to respond.
Then don't respond to it, but you know how annoying it is to be brushed off for knowing things whose logic you can't quite explain.
True.
"Alright," said Harry, "I … I'm not disagreeing that he seems to be open to using violent means, when necessary, but then so are all of us. I'm not disagreeing that shall we say, 'fate or circumstance has armed him with the ability to spread a terrible curse' a curse he might or might not be uniquely blind to how terrible it seems to others."
"He's not blind to that," said Susan, "he specifically uses that fact in his strategies."
"Or whoever is pulling his strings does."
Susan huffed and shook her head, "No, he definitely knows. He existed before you-know-who found him and recruited him, or conscripted him, whichever."
"Say that you're right, on this point," said Harry.
They glared at each other. Susan blinked, "Oh!" for a moment her eyes were wide, and then they narrowed to a completely different glare. "You're not thinking like law enforcement, you're thinking like the lord of a persecuted house."
Apparently, that was a thing in her vocabulary and therefore her worldview. "Umm, maybe?" said Harry, "Is that a thing?"
She looked around, with a distinct pause in the direction of the manor, obscured though it was by the bulk of the old cottage. She sighed, "You're not wrong to be looking desperately for allies. I'm just saying, there are significantly better allies you could make. Allies that would attract more rather than scare away, so many potential allies as he will, if it becomes known you've allied with him."
"Yeah, that's fair," said Harry, "And I wasn't even really trying to recruit him, I was just … trying to do the right thing with what little control of my wards I do have."
"Humph," said Susan.
"The tone of this meeting took me by surprise, and I think it says something about …"
"About how terribly you-know-who has betrayed his trust," said Susan, "Yes, that was obvious enough."
.
...-...
Plea for Justice
"Leona,
Your 'other guests' have seen you treating my people as animals too many times. They have gained confidence that my people can not hurt them, and have also started treating us as animals to our faces instead of only in talk behind our backs. Our position is now untenable. Either permit us to go elsewhere, lift the restriction on attacking them, or choose a selection of targets for us to make an example of and remove your protection from them.
~Lord Greyback."
.
Harry penned a reply, then frowned and turned to Leona to rewrite it. Then changed back to compare the results.
.
"Lord Greyback,
You don't need my permission to leave, though I think that it is safer for everyone if you stay. Would you like me to try to arrange for all, or a portion, of your people to live elsewhere on the estate, rather than in the Manor with the other 'guests'? I think there are even a few empty houses available near your stretch of forest.
I know that a portion of your people are not mages. How many of your people would be comfortable, or even prefer to live in a designated muggle area?
Do you think that stretch of forest is big enough to need full-time 'rangers' patrolling it? Or is the nearby national forest hiring for that matter? I know a lot of Britain's potion ingredients are cultivated in the vicinity, if more of your people need employment, or want to start businesses to employ each other.
Regarding attacking my enemies: I'm under the impression that the disease is not nice to have, but does convey some advantages, so I don't want anyone turned that hasn't asked for that while in full control of their own faculties. However, I also understand that there ought to be a place for self-defence.
Give me time to think about the best way to implement a more nuanced approach with the wards.
I'm aware of and appreciate the ironic justice of turning a bigot into that which they despise, but am not comfortable condoning it.
How able would you / your people be to follow the guideline, 'only hunt enemies who deserve to die, and then hunt to kill, and in sufficient numbers that there's no danger of them merely being turned.'?
Or is this offensive or naive to even ask? If so, please clue me in.
Your friend,
~Leona."
.
While he was dithering around writing polite-ish letters to enemies pretending to be friends. He decided to try one to his unsolicited property manager also:
.
"Aunt Margaid,
You mentioned dealing with, and scaring for life, some 'squatters,' that you'd like me to check up on, but you did not go into enough detail that I could figure out how to go looking for them.
Would you care to try again?
~Heir Potter."
.
He thought about telling her about the possibility of marking and tracking them with the wards, but he didn't really want to clue her in that such was a possibility if she didn't already know. Then again, maybe just thinking about how convenient it would be for her to communicate that way would force her to try.
Eventually, replies to both letters arrived:
.
"Leona,
My muggles might not say it, but one of the reasons they stay cowed is because they are in the presence of mages and know it. Giving them a place to be away from that, at least some of the time, would be healthier for them, even if many of them have accepted daily duties that bring them among more powerful people. I'll discuss the possibility of relocating them where you say with your Aunt.
Yes, herbology would suit several of my people. And indoor or outdoor patrolling would suit several others. I'll put some people on researching the possibilities.
You are correct that the underlying problem is more being around bigots, and less the removal of the danger that we might defend ourselves one evening a month has altered our status by an untenable amount.
I don't understand, are you asking if it is offensive to discuss whether some people deserve to die, or offensive to discuss that … Oh, I see, Saying that execution might be a lesser punishment than turning, implies that living with this curse is worse than death; which therefore implies that those of us who don't suicide in response to 'catching it' are either lacking in courage or honour.
I don't find the curse worse than death, but I am aware that some do. Some also find the existence of many and various forms of power unbearable (whether that power is theirs to wield over others, or in the hands of others necessitating obedience or appeasement.)
And others, thrive on the challenge of meeting the implied responsibility that goes with that power, like you and I.
~Lord Greyback."
.
Harry wasn't certain whether or not that last amounted to flattery. Two days later another letter arrived.
.
"Heir Potter,
When I found them, I went looking for a local orphanage (none still extant), or other representatives of Child Welfare Services. I was intrigued to find that Child Welfare Services thought our county was handling those tasks in-house. So I went looking deeper and found out that The Potter Orphanage, (a centuries-old institution) closed down in the last decade for lack of inmates. Basically, the five remaining volunteers deduced that the remaining two inmates would be better served, and more cheaply taken care of by just taking them home, which they did. I think it was less of a 'draw straws' allocation and more a case of 'you two have been giving more years of service and hours per week, you obviously want a child more than I do.'
Given that: I offered the new siblings to the next two volunteers in line. And feigned surprise and concern when the siblings wished not to be separated. Thereby sparking off a competition between the two families to outbid each other for the favour of the siblings, one of them won handily by focusing on the children, while the other lost handily by focusing on me. I awarded the children where I thought they would best be taken care of, and thereby won the hatred of at least one local gossip.
(Ability with gossip does not predict ability with children, though of course, neither ability precludes the other.)"
The colour of the ink and the slant of the handwriting changed slightly. How much time had passed between sections of the letter? Was this also a difference in gender and perspective? Or only of time … or a break to commune with Wotcher or research something?
The letter continued: "I've marked all the orphanage volunteers for you in the wards. Also, the orphans that I was discussing. I've also marked the old orphanage building, which has reverted to commons, having belonged to a non-profit organisation when it ceased operations. Though the argument could easily be made for the Potter estate to claim it, having been the major financial contributor for many decades. Would you like me to start that off?
When you speak with them remember that I was pretending the role of an overbearing absentminded paper-pusher who wouldn't deign to ask the children what they wanted. But as soon as I was informed by an adult that the children had expressed an informed preference, I obeyed the spirit of the law about accepting that as a very strong indicator of how things should go, etc.
Thereby making the preferred foster parents into heroes in the eyes of all involved. I'm telling you this to encourage you to plan your own character before presenting it, and also to help you not undermine my manipulations towards their long-term family cohesiveness unless you have an even more worthwhile overarching goal.
~Margaid Gaunt,
the Regent Potter"
.
By turns, I like her and hate her.
Admit it, master: when you hate her, that's when you like her most.
Nim, Where do you get that idea?
That you also like me.
Erg, no comment.
Harry sighed, While there were desirable aspects to the idea of having a property manager or legal advisor 'on call' to be the 'bad cop,' so that he could, when he chose to portray the 'good cop,' and have a populace that loved him, but thought him barmy for employing 'so cruel and unfeeling a property manager' he also placed a strong value on not being lied to, and Tom / Margaid was both known to lie, and to be an expert manipulator with or without lying.
So mostly, this was all Nim's job, not Tom's.
Harry sighed again, there wasn't really anything else for him to do until he had a free day to visit Potter estates.
.
...-...
Exchanging Confidences
"Where were you guys?" said Hermione. Draco saluted, dropped his books and ran off. Rebekah stuck around, just far enough away as to be nominally unobtrusive. Not that anyone who'd seen her duel with wand or epee could so easily dismiss her.
"What?" said Susan.
"Draco and I wanted to talk with Harry, where were you?"
"We were exploring Potter Estates," said Harry.
"With it full of death eaters and you-know-who?"
"He's sort of … restricted them to the Manor, and given us free rein of the muggle area," said Harry, "Sometimes he gives me little tasks about checking up on my tenants as if I really were only the heir and he really was my regent."
Hermione blinked, "How long has this been going on?"
"Since the January session of the Wizengamot," said Harry, "Though I saw evidence that she'd … he'd planned that arrangement since last summer at least, perhaps as far back as … shortly after he claimed to the wards that he's my regent."
"Why would he?"
Harry shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine."
She shivered and crossed her arms.
"What did you and Draco want to talk about?" said Harry.
"What? Oh, Um, House of Granger is, just a little too big for my room and the guest suite at home, can we have your guest room too?"
"Oh," said Harry, "Yeah, sure, can you give me until a couple of days after the express to come by and pick up my things?" It's been a year and a half, I don't even remember what I left there, maybe just first-year books and clothes I've grown out of.
Draco reappeared and sat down with his books.
"Yes," Hermione said and frowned.
Harry glanced at Ginny and rubbed his thumb before looking at Hermione again.
"Oh," he said, "Yeah, I should check into that."
"Check into what?"
"Whether there's a guest house somewhere big enough for fourteen."
Hermione's eyes bugged.
"That is, if you don't mind living in a nominal muggle area, even if the outer wards are miles from the manor and its siege wards."
Hermione shrugged.
"It's polite to offer guests a place in your manor, cousin," drawled Draco.
"I'd love to," said Harry, "There's plenty of room there, but I'm afraid that many of the rooms are infested with pests."
"You want help with house cleaning?" said Draco.
"Would I ever," agreed Harry, "are you volunteering?"
Draco shrugged.
"He means death eaters," said Hermione.
Draco's eyes went wide, then he shook his head and crossed his arms, "I wanted a nice safe neutral house."
Hermione and Susan snorted.
After a few minutes, Draco looked up, contemplated Susan's presence for a moment then turned to Harry and said, "What resources do you have besides House of Potter and perhaps calling for volunteers from the AHDT?"
"I might or might not have the loyalty of Greyback's pack, or perhaps I could merely call in one favour."
Draco's eyes bulged, "Then what do you need us for?"
Harry opened his mouth, but Draco narrowed his eyes, "Ah, right, of course."
"Harry," said Hermione, "If you really mean to put us up, of course, we'll help clean it up and get it organised. But … I'm not conscripting soldiers."
"Understood," said Harry, "I wouldn't ask you to conscript."
Hermione nodded, "you can invite volunteers though, or I can."
"Can Theo and I look at floor plans?" said Draco.
"What?" said Hermione.
Draco shrugged, "The more diverse a base he recruits from, the less any one group can expect favours from him after his coup. He doesn't want to make that wolf pack his only enforcers, or he'll wake up someday with no enforcers, or with no estate, or without important bits vital for breathing. Ergo he will ask the AHDT for volunteers, and maybe also adults of his favourite ally houses, and if Theo and I have battle plans ready before that…"
"Ah," said Hermione, "Yes, I see." She glanced at Harry and shrugged.
Harry nodded, "I haven't been in the Manor yet, but—"
"Here," said Susan, she pulled open her sleeve and started rummaging, after a few moments she pulled out a map.
"What's this?" said Draco.
"Ingenious little thing, you can't map an unplottable location, but if you have physical access to the ward stone, you can anchor to the unplottable charm and just ask it what it is you're not allowed to draw.
"Merlin," said Draco, "That's brilliant. Can we copy it bigger? As long as we're not 'making a map' of the place, we're 'copying information from a thing that isn't technically a map'?"
Susan shrugged, "I don't know. Every once in a while it will get stuck and you can see the runes that make it work, instead of the information that the runes draw. One of the few things I really understood was that it checks how big a piece of parchment it's drawing on. I think if you sewed it to a bigger piece with sufficiently professional seaming, you'd have a bigger map."
Draco's eyes rolled up for a second, "Sounds doable," he put it aside and looked at Harry, "So another thing that needs to be decided: When? The two main strategies I'd recommend are whenever is most convenient for us: such as any time this month, or not until after OWLs are over."
"There is that," agreed Hermione.
"Or whenever is most inconvenient for the enemy, such as the moment we're sure they've committed themselves to an attack elsewhere. That might be when they're on highest alert, but it will also be when they are fewest in number, and perhaps most distracted with other concerns."
"Makes sense," said Harry.
Hermione shivered.
"Too bad we didn't know about the Azkaban break-in until after it happened," said Draco.
"Alright," said Harry, "Good point, how would we even figure out in time?"
"Hmm," said Draco, "my intelligence network isn't what it used to be, but I can see what I can figure out."
"Thanks, I think," said Harry.
"In the meantime," said Draco, "we need a plan or at least lots of sub-plans that we know well enough to build a plan out of them at a moment's notice."
"How?" said Susan.
Draco stared at her, "Is there drills for Aurors … arresting everyone in a building?"
Susan nodded, "And a hit wizard variation for stunning everyone. They're mostly the same."
"Good, Can you teach those drills to the AHDT?"
Susan nodded.
"Good, that could make us maybe 90% more effective at working as a team, rather than as many running duels as there are combatants on each side."
Susan shrugged, "that's assuming we can learn it at all well, we should have started practising months ago. Getting anyone to pick up team coordination exercises in the two and a half months before finals is …"
"Not hopeless," said Draco, "we might not become flawless professionals, but just being exposed to the techniques, and knowing the ideal that each other are aiming for, will be loads better than all of us trying to invent it in the heat of battle, and having no time to discuss theory with each other, or even inventing the vocabulary to do so."
Susan nodded morosely, "I'll do it."
...-...
Fielding an odd request
"Dear Sir," read Alistor Moody, "I would appreciate if you could arrange, for me to receive a copy of, or even just supervised access to, a dossier on Fenrir Greyback. Especially, his preferred modes of operation, and what, if anything, is known about his contacts and/or time spent in Southern and Eastern Europe. I am of course willing to pay all standard fees."
Alistor dropped the letter, "It's signed, Harry Potter, Lord Potter."
"Hmm," said Amelia Bones, "I approve, though am somewhat concerned by, the fact that he's choosing to drop hints that he'd rather only see records that it's legal for him to access. I wonder who else he's been dealing with, that he thinks that's necessary."
Alistor shrugged, "You want me to pass this to Marne over in Records, and forget about it, or find time to bring him in to show him how to assemble the dossier that he really wants access to."
"Bring him in, and guide him through interacting with Marne for himself," she said finally, "Then, depending on … his reactions to that, and anything else you can manage to glean from him, you can make a judgement call on how much more to help him request."
"Alright," said Alistor, "what are you thinking?"
"He's a peer, and he doesn't work for the ministry, that gives him rights to more than the average subject, but less than an Auror on the payroll."
"True."
"Unfortunately, with that Page badge he's wearing he might have access to both, next time he comes round, I want you to get hold of it and make sure his access level is correct for a page assigned to … a peer, not to an Auror."
"I don't think I can assign him to himself," said Alistor, "Shall I assign him to his godfather?"
Amelia's head snapped up, "That joke was not worthy of you Alistor."
Alistor raised an eyebrow.
After several seconds her glare relaxed, then she sucked her lip for several more seconds, then nodded, "Sure, why not, but make sure he realises we expect to see enough of him this summer for him to earn that level of access."
Alistor nodded, "I'll see to it."
She frowned, "You might run it by Sirius first, if he's not willing to provide the structured introduction that the Page Program is intended to provide, or if he feels himself too close to the subject, or doesn't want the added responsibility, or whatever, find someone else. Malfoy or Greengrass spring to mind, it's on their request that he even has that badge."
...-...
Library
Harry looked up from what had become the House of Potter table in the library to check on the visitors to what had become the House of Granger table. It was Ron and Millicent. Apparently, they'd become adjusted to working at whichever table seemed emptiest when they arrived. Which they did at least as often as they had once worked together in a corner by the window, that wasn't in the line of sight from most of the rest of the room. At one time Harry and Nim had argued about whether that was so that they could snog, or because Ron was ashamed to be seen associating with slytherins. Or later the theory had been that Millicent was ashamed to be seen 'going with' rather than 'tutoring' someone as ignorant as Ron, but that seemed to have resolved itself. Luna had suggested it was because Ron was keeping up in all his revising and was ahead in transfiguration.
The couple was now regularly seen working together in the classes they shared, hanging together in the library, or several of the other locations reputed to be especially conducive to inter-house study groups.
Harry dropped his eyes back to his book, then to the hand in his lap clasping his left hand, and then back to his book.
"Hmm?" said Ginny.
"Your brother doesn't mind being seen with Slytherins," whispered Harry, "it's a new attitude that looks grown up on him."
"Certainly," said Ginny, "more so than you even, lately."
"I don't mind," said Harry.
"There's none in our group," said Ginny.
"I did not go out of my way to choose our group," said Harry, "Do you have candidates you want to sponsor?"
"Hmm, what?" said Ginny, "Well who would you pick anyway?"
"In my year?" said Harry, "Hermione already got Draco, Tracy, Daphne, and Theo. Ron already got Millicent, who else is there worth having?"
Ginny snickered and squeezed his hand, "ask Ron? Or Theo."
"Hmm," said Harry, "That's fair. And I don't know enough about your year to guess."
Ginny shrugged.
"Ugh," said Hermione, "There are no Easter hols this year, why?"
"Do you really need me to answer that?" said Draco.
"I don't actually care," said Hermione, "I just wish it didn't randomly change how I'd expected to plan my revising calendar."
Draco snorted, "you should care."
Heads all around both Harry's and Hermione's tables popped up to hear that tone from Draco.
"Alright," said Hermione, "tell me."
"Because Pesach and Easter move," said Draco, "We get the appropriate days off class for equinox, and Pesach and Easter, but the Express only runs on years when they are close enough together to make it worth dropping a few extra days of classes between them."
"Ah, because of the Hogwarts rule of ecumenical observances," said Hermione, "All three holidays get the same amount of official observance every year. Which is either a couple of days off for each, or the additional option of going home for all of them, but only if that is minimally disruptive to the learning schedule of the observers of the other two."
"Yes," said Draco.
"Fine," sighed Hermione, "So which should House of Granger celebrate?"
Draco shrugged, "I'm going to stick with the same deal as we discussed regarding winter Hols."
Hermione grunted in irritation, then gave a nod, "Fair enough."
Everyone at the House of Granger table went back to reading, except Hermione who got up and went to look for another book.
Harry's table also went back to their revising. About a minute later Padma levitated a parchment across the table so it landed across Harry's book.
It said: "
+ Equinox, usually 21 March, (astronomical, varies 19 to 21 March) druid observances: start of spring, planting, a celebration of new life, a celebration of balance (light ascending).
+ Pesach, a celebration of new life, planting, CELEBRATION OF FREEDOM FROM SYSTEMATIC GOVERNMENT SANCTIONED ABUSE/SLAVERY, (seems ironic or deeply symbolic for a people group that historically has also often been systematically oppressed since then.)
+ Easter, muggle: a celebration of new life, and the resurrection of the Redeemer after he paid for/paid off (redeemed) his followers from spiritual (psychological) oppression/slavery. (Redeemer is role/title with Head of Family type responsibilities, but is generally portrayed as the rich 'older brother' or 'uncle', not as the house 'father'.)
+ Easter, Anglican mage (not to be confused with muggle Anglicans): celebrates retreat from the muggle world after the leader of a mage/muggle equality cult barely escaped with his life, (other than 'miracles' there seems little evidence that Jesus was a mage, some kind of divine avatar seems significantly more believable to me. The critique I saw seems to indicate that this sect (Anglican Mage) formed during or just before the 'Time of the Roundheads', and gained most of its following then, and is credited with the initial rise in British support for The International Statute of Secrecy)
+ Vasant Panchami, February 10, Celebrates new life, an auspicious day to begin new things, Yellow and mustard blossoms. Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge and the arts is worshipped.
+ Chapchar Kut, First week of March, completion of bamboo harvesting, traditional dancing.
+ Myoko Festival, March 20 to 30, purification, prosperity and fertility.
+ Holi, March 20-21, in celebration of when Lord Vishnu, helped defeat the demoness Holika, (traditionally celebrated with squirt guns and colourful powder, in commemoration of how Lord Krishna, (reincarnation of Vishnu) was notorious for pranking the girls by drenching them in water and colours. However, the current practice is more gender equal.)
+ Aoling Festival, April 1-6, after planting, binge party. NO. WE ARE NOT DOING THIS. (even if we choose to sustain on farm income in such a way, that spring planting and harvest are the entirety of the work our farm requires.)
+ Gangaur, April 8-9, (technically from the day after Holi, and for 18 days) ashes from after Holi fires are gathered and used for fertiliser, holiday is about planting and fertility, and ends with a purification ritual.
+ Vasant Navaratri, starts with the first new moon following the equinox, so usually about the second week of April, worship of the different forms of Shakti (female energy) to seek the blessings of the divine mother goddess. (No idea if this would be something we could manage, Harry's uses for the Leona transformation puts a definite emphasis on male / female energies being either performative or physically / chemically determined, rather than spiritual/innate. Don't know how this lines up with Shakti being worshipped.
+ Ugadi, the first day of Vasant Navami, traditional food signifying "the six emotions"?
+ Bohag Bihu, starts on the sidereal equinox, rather than the solar equinox, so about April 13 or 14, The first day, is dedicated to cows, the second day is for visiting relatives, on the third day, deities are worshipped. (I'm not recommending this holiday, but you might look into how certain people groups treat their cows for ethics how to value your tenants better than yourself…)
(I haven't tried to look for information on the Mage sects of India, if they even are as segregated as Europe, I think they are not, or at least were not nearly as much before colonisation. Do you want me to research this? Are there festivals from other parts of the world you'd also like me to check on?)"
Harry wrote, "Feel free if you want, but it is not an area of special interest to me. If the point is ceremonial power, I'd rather be forewarned about what works and how, and what is commonly known to work. If the point is social / family celebration, I'd rather we pick what everyone in our family can be comfortable celebrating together, so, … perhaps those festivals with the most welcoming interpretations?"
He passed it back.
She read it and stared at him, "What does Easter mean to you?"
"No classes, but Hermione and Neville and Seamus are gone?" he shrugged.
She rolled her eyes and glared something at Ginny, who slid an arm around his shoulders.
"Thanks, I guess," said Harry.
"Do you know what this hug is for?" said Ginny.
"Performative comfort to the poor deprived orphan," said Harry.
Ginny tisked and squeezed tighter.
...-...
{End Chapter 28}
A/N: There really is a series by White Squirrel on this site, that starts with The Arithmancer. And it is awesome, and complete, and you should read it. The Accidental Animagus series is also good, and probably better than this, but it is not complete yet, last I looked. I like to imagine some of my favourite fan fictions are books or magazine serials in universe.