To Ride the Carousel Again

Chapter 8

Disclaimer:

I got nothin' clever. The money-making rights all belong to

JK Rowling and a buncha others.

Can I Bribe You with a Library?

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Approx. 5,600+ words.

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Tuesday, Aug 4, 1992

Suddenly a short, bushy-haired, T-shirt and jeans-wearing bundle of leaking, angry, sparking magic, stepped out of the shadows with her magically fizzing finger pointed right at his nose.

Harry was trying not to go cross-eyed looking at the sparking tip of her finger as a voice so upset it was the coldest he had ever heard hissed, "Harry James Potter, I am so-o-o angry at you! AND YOU'RE LATE!"

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"Wait, I can explain!" he hastened to exclaim.

The fact that her finger was sparking like a wand tip about to release a curse was scaring him. Even as a second-year, he knew she had knowledge of a frightening array of spells. If magic was about intent, she was upset enough to not need a wand to cast.

"Oh, you'll explain alright." A spark jumped the gap from her fingertip to Harry's nose and it felt like a minor electrical shock. "Just not here in public.

With that she grabbed his wrist with surprising strength and started towing him down the kerb path.

"Hermione, no!" Harry expostulated, tugging against her grip. "Stop! You know I don't like people grabbing me when they're angry."

Hermione stopped, let go, and tears started filling her eyes in an instant. The instantaneous personality switch caught Harry off balance.

"Oh, Harry," she wailed. I'm so, so sorry. I know better, but …"

"Yes, Hermione, you do know better," he said gathering her into a hug. Since they were both at the same height at this point, he ended up against her neck. While she tucked her chin over his shoulder.

They stood joined thusly for a couple of minutes until Hermione pulled back. "Thank you Harry for forgiving me. I just worked myself up into a strop worrying about how you are doing all this, and what about your money, and …"

Harry stopped her with a finger laid vertically across her lips. "We'll sort it later. Right now, maybe we should get some privacy at your house before someone tells your parents you're snogging strangers in the middle of the neighborhood."

"Harry James Potter! We were not k-k-kissing in the street!" the instantly tomato-red twelve-year-old spluttered.

"Of course not, but from certain angles it might have seemed that way. You'll become the neighborhood's scarlet woman before you become a teenager," replied Harry with one of his lopsided grins.

"Potter, you prat," she said latching onto his arm and starting towards her house again, albeit at a slower pace and with a flushed face.

"By the way, when do you become a teenager?"

"September nineteenth, if you must know,"

Three minutes later the duo was in the Granger house kitchen waiting for the tea water to boil. Harry could tell that being civil during the wait before she could begin the coming interrogation was a strain on her patience.

As Harry could hear the kettle was about to boil, he decided upon distraction.

"What do you think about your backpack? Reckon it'll have enough room for all your books this year? I haven't had a chance to experiment with mine yet because I've been busy what with going to Gringotts and oh, bugger, I should'na said that."

She just gave him a toothy grin as she plopped a large, porous tea caddy into the teapot and poured the water to fill it.

"Guess we're not having High Tea today. Somebody's in a hurry to get answers. Oh, well. Her mum brings good biscuits home."

Tea was poured into mugs with added cream, sugar, honey, or lemon added to taste, and biscuits having the first nibble marks were as long as Hermione was willing to wait.

"Well, you going to spill, Potter, or do I have to get rough?" she spoke with the minimum of decorum.

Harry sat back, blew on his tea, and took a cautious sip of the hot beverage. He was deliberately winding her up. He suddenly realized he found teasing Hermione a lot of fun. Yet even in his newfound discovery, he also understood that going too far, and her revenge could be painful.

"Meh, the way things have gone in my life, danger should be my middle name."

Harry decided upon being serious. He was in his mind only a week after the shocking murder of Cedric Diggory. That was something he had to change. And being frivolous with someone who was a True Friend was not the way to treat her. Hermione knew enough about Harry not to pry too deeply or ask really personal questions about his life just because she felt he owed her an answer.

Even if he was going to lie.

"Several things have happened, Hermione. Some of them I've already told you about. Somehow, an owl from Gringotts Bank delivered a letter to me asking if I was going to come to the bank on my birthday to claim my Lordship of House Potter. Apparently being an orphan means I can make the claim at twelve.

When I went down to the family vaults, I found the Wills of my parents. I found how to become Lord Potter, and I found the list of people who were supposed to be my guardians."

At that point, Harry raised his left hand and willed his lordship ring into visibility. Hermione leaned over the table to examine it closely.

After the pause, he continued. "Would you believe there are half a dozen people listed as possible guardians, and two relatives listed who my mother stated categorically I was never to be allowed to meet until I was fifteen years old? Never mind live with them for the last eleven years?"

Her eyes widened in horror. She had added the facts, and gotten the correct, rotten answer.

"And worse," he continued, "the reason I've been cursed to live with my ever-hateful relatives is that the Headmaster of a school I didn't even attend decided I had to live there. And then the bastard ("Language, Harry!") had my parents' Will's sealed so none of my parent-approved guardians could find out about or challenge the placement he made."

Harry's eyes were filling with moisture. His vision was so blurry he couldn't notice that Hermione's eyes had the same problem.

"The second thing I found was I have money. Enough money that I never should have had to wear my cousin's cast-offs. They are usually not rags 'cause the Baby Hippo outgrew them too fast for them to wear 'em out, but a belt I have to wrap around twice to make work? Pants I have to roll up five times so I can walk without tripping? Shirts whose cuffs flap in the breeze? I'm tired of it.

Third, I found that I actually own some houses that I can live in. And I'm going to live in one starting tonight."

Harry decided it was time to stop, and took another sip of tea, before raising his eyes to look at his friend.

All he really noticed were two tear tracks running down her cheeks before she jumped out of her chair and sprinted over to him and plopped herself crossways on his lap as he engulfed him in a fierce hug. He could feel her shudder as she tried to control her crying.

He finally managed to understand what he was hearing because her voice was so muffled by being buried in his chest.

She was saying "I'm so sorry, I should have mumble-mumble and maybe you could mumble and lived mumble-mumble… "

Harry just held her, ignoring the wetness that was soaking through his T-shirt. When she finally wound down, he still kept holding her. And while he was doing that, he decided that being hugged by, and holding, Hermione was one of the more brilliant things he had ever done.

As Hermione finally wound down, Harry could tell when she realized just where she was sitting and what she was doing. She slowly released him and stood up.

"Sorry, Harry. I should not have done that."

"Why?" he replied trying to look perplexed. "I'm not a close enough friend to hold you if you're having a good cry?"

"Prat," she said with a watery smile as she turned and went to the sink and proceeded to run cold water into her hands and scoop it onto her face. A quick pull on a drawer produced a small towel that she blotted her face with.

"So, do you have any plans to solve this problem? At the moment, you're rather young to be living on your own without any guardians," she stated while leaning back against the sink. "How do we plan to fix that?"

Harry noted the 'we'. "First we go look for another place for me to live. Want to come along? It should only take the afternoon," he said, grinning at her brightly. "AND I understand there is a library there."

Hermione grinned back just as brightly, her eyes avid, but then her face fell. "I can't leave the house without telling my parents. They would ground me for life if they thought I was sneaking out."

Harry kept his grin going. "Call them on the telephone. You know it's easier than trying to floo call their office."

Hermione snorted.

Harry thought he had almost goofed by admitting he knew the Grangers were dentists and had their own office but remembered it had been a topic in the kitchen and at dinner Sunday. "Tell them I've invited you over and you'll be back for dinner."

Thirty seconds later Harry could hear one side of the conversation from the telephone in the hall. "Yes, Mum. I'm sure… We'll probably take the bus... Yes, that's how Harry got here Sunday… Love you too, Mum."

"Alright, Harry. How are we getting there and do we need to eat lunch before we go?"

"We'll leave in just a minute, and we'll get lunch there. Ypres," Harry called in a loud, clear voice.

And waited. When you don't want to look like a fool in front of your …. friend … girl? even five seconds seems like forever.

A small pop, and an accompanying small shriek of surprise from Hermione, and Ypres stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Master Harry, you called for Ypres?" his butler-suited house-elf asked.

Harry went on one knee in front of the hazel-eyed, grey-skinned elf. "Can you take both of us to the Manor?"

"Ypres is still recovering and does not yet have the strength. However, I can take you one at a time," the sage-looking, uniformed elf said.

"Very good. First though, please check my friend for any Tracking Charms like I had."

Ypres waved his hands over a startled but intrigued Hermione. No light blue glowing spots appeared.

"That's sorted. Okay then, Hermione, you will go first and just wait for me at the entry. Oh, and if you see Peama, please don't scream or anything. Ypres here will have me with you in just a minute. All set? Good. Hermione clasp his hand, and …"

The house-elf, with Hermione in tow, vanished with that signature small 'pop'.

Less than a minute later, Ypres reappeared and after a short talk from Harry about not calling him Harald, transported Harry to the house entryway where Hermione was still standing, looking around with wide, confused eyes and a sagging jaw.

"Oh, boy. She sure is cute when she's flustered," he thought.

Seeing her confusion, Harry stepped over and gave her a one-armed hug so he could look where she was looking.

At that moment, she was looking at what Harry figured was the Potter crest opposite the main door.

Without looking at him she said in a small voice, "Harry, what is this place?"

Harry figured she was allowed some confusion. After all, she had thought she was going to Harry's house, that they were going by bus and nothing had been mentioned about little grey-skinned people.

Girding his loins, he started explaining to her that this was his house, the bus would have left them with quite a walk, and the little grey people were his … magical retainers? That explanation worked for him. Keeping Hermione, who tended to hit her 'rant' button when something in the magical world did not fit her muggle worldview, calm and accepting, would make his life a lot less stressful and happier for the nonce.

"Please, Merlin. I don't want a S.P.E.W. this early."

"As to where we are," he said in an exaggerated, nose-in-the-air, ponce-y manner. "We are at my ancestral family house, Potter Manor. I had intended to take the bus, but it's a really scary ride and we would have had a fifteen-minute walk to get here. The person who brought us here is Ypres. He's a house-elf."

Her look was a question all by itself.

"You mean you haven't seen one before? They are quite … um common? No, not common? Um, it's like you don't see them but they're always around …" Harry trailed off.

"Ubiquitous?" Hermione supplied.

"Yeah, that's it. There are lots of elves at Hogwarts. I thought that you had seen them around sometime or knew about them 'cause you know everything." Harry caught her face as it fell and cursed himself.

He quickly turned her and wrapped her in a hug. "NO, Hermione, you are NOT a know-it-all," he said a bit desperately. "I just mean that you are very smart and have worked very hard at learning as much about the magical world as possible. I, on the other hand, have been a lazy sod, carelessly learning as I go along. If it wasn't for you and Ron, I honestly think they would have kicked me out for academic and wizarding stupidity last year."

At that point, he loosened his hold on her so he could look her in the eye. "And without you, I probably would have made Quirrell's year by falling off my broom or made Snape's year by dying from poisoning in the flame-guarded potion puzzle room."

He then buried his head in her hair and hugged her again.

"This is wonderful! How come I let those stupid, stupid Dursleys keep me from doing this the other times around?"

He suddenly became aware that his shoulder was getting damp again. Startled, he pulled back to look her face to face again. He was dismayed at the tears running down her cheeks.

"Hermione, what did I do? Is it some …?"

He was cut off by her quickly shaking her head in denial. Suddenly Harry felt something being placed in his hand. It was a handkerchief. He immediately handed it to his crying friend, who after using it to clean herself, tucked it in her jeans pocket.

"Ha . . Happy tears, Harry." She snuffed her mucus-filled nose before continuing. "I've never had a friend before who actually complimented me on being smart, who doesn't take advantage of me being smart, and seems to actually like me being intelligent."

They stared into each other's eyes until Harry got slightly uncomfortable. "Come on, let's find out about my house. I've seen almost nothing so far.

"Ypres, Peama," he said quietly.

The two popped in in front of them.

"Would one of you take us on a tour of the house?" he said looking at both of them. "On second thought, Peama you can be our guide."

,

His head swiveled to his right. "Ypres, just a bit ago you said you were 'recovering'. What are you recovering from?"

When Ypres did not answer promptly, and Harry glared a little bit, the somewhat tired-looking elf then started speaking. "When Master James and Mistress Lily left here over eleven years ago, they took most of the magic that embodied Potter Manor with them.

We house elves need wizards and witches to give us some of their magic by performing spells on the estate that we can claim as nourishment. It does not have to be much, but some. There has been no magic performed in this house for over eleven years. The wardstone was weakened, the connection to the ley lines was weakened, and the wards needed more magic to keep them from failing. And because of all that, we slowly weakened.

Cody, who was the general fixer and the estate groundskeeper, was old when your parents left. He did not survive the drought of magic. He was placed with honour in the Potter Elves' resting place."

Harry and Hermione stared at each other in dawning horror. One of the elves had magically starved to death because Harry had not been able to visit.

"Peama and I have been forced to expend only the minimum of energy to keep the estate from becoming dilapidated. We kept hoping you would return and save Potter Manor, and you have. Your release of accidental magic two days ago was like a dying elf in the desert being doused with a barrel of water. There was so much magic we could only absorb a quick amount before we had to stop.

If Master would be so kind, if he and Mistress Hermione were to gift us with some power, it will speed our recovery immensely."

A quick glance at Hermione had her nodding in agreement.

"What do we have to do?" Harry asked.

"Place your hand on the top of my head, and Mistress Hermione, please do the same to Peama."

They did and Ypres continued. "Now push your magic out of your hand like you were casting a spell."

"But, we haven't learned how to do that yet," a suddenly disconcerted-looking Hermione asserted.

"Do not worry, Mistress Hermione," Peama said in her higher, definitely female voice. "It will feel natural when you try it with us."

The two humans stood, trying to 'push' their magic down their arms. Peama was right. Harry could suddenly feel something that swirled and swept through his body coalesce and sweep down his arm and flow into Ypres. After only a few seconds he also instinctively knew when to cut the flow off.

In literal seconds, the two humans watched as the house elves grew about six inches taller, put on some body mass, and their skin suddenly had a healthy glow rather than the dull, lifeless tone it had had before. And the now happy elves were smiling.

"Thank you, Master, thank you, Mistress. We now will be able to clean the house, take care of the grounds, and serve you without issues."

Harry stopped them with a slight frown on his face. "You two will not try to fix everything at once. The only places I need cleaned are the kitchen, my room, a loo, and the library. I do not want you two over-tiring yourselves. That's an order. Now, who is taking us on a tour? We will have lunch in an hour. Who will do which?"

With a quick glance, Ypres became the children's tour guide, Peama the lunch maker.

They found the house was a giant 'C' shape enclosing a courtyard garden. The ground floor left of the entry was where the huge ballroom and associated 'escape' parlours for those tired of dancing, music, and being overly polite to people who were invited due to protocol in the first place, Ypres explained dryly.

To the right were the family visiting parlours, the kitchen, the breakfast nook, the small family dining room, and the large banquet room.

On the second floor, the left or north wing had only one room because of the vaulted ceiling in the ballroom below. That room was the library The south wing was for guest rooms, sitting rooms, and bathrooms.

The third floor had immediate family bedrooms, studies, ensuites, ladies' rooms and the humongous Master Suite.

Hermione was starting to get antsy. She'd been promised a library, and by Merlin, Harry had better produce!

Harry had sneaked a quiet word with Ypres to make the library the last room on the tour. He knew that once she saw the library, all bets on whether she would even answer to her name were off.

Harry had to hide his snickers as his book-loving, information-sponge friend had an actual hyperventilation attack at seeing the riches before her.

Harry was positive it was only her weakness due to lack of oxygen that allowed him to haul her back to the kitchen alcove for some food. She was going to need her strength later.

After a simple lunch of potato and leek soup and ham and cheese sandwiches, Hermione immediately pestered Harry into heading back to the library. Ypres popped in when they got there as he had said he would show them how the library worked.

Hermione was again in her vision of paradise. Tall bookshelves positively crammed with books, tables with comfortable chairs, more comfortable-looking fabric armchairs, and leather couches scattered about, all with lighting just right for easy reading. Large, almost floor-to-ceiling windows and lighter-coloured woods contributed to the open, airy, welcoming feeling of the room.

Ypres led the way over to a white marble plinth that was topped by a dark brown wood lectern with an open book, quill and inkpot sitting upon it. Hermione was immediately standing in front of the lectern, eagerly perusing it for clues to its use.

"Master Harry, Mistress Hermione, this ledger is set up so that if you want to find a book on a particular topic, you write the topic on the page. The books that match your search will glow in colours as you walk by their shelves."

Hermione couldn't contain herself and interrupted. "But then I would have to walk by every shelf in the library, looking for glowing books," she grumbled.

Ypres merely stared at her for a moment until she started to fidget when she realized she had interrupted him as he was speaking, or worse, trying to teach her something.

"Sorry," she said, hanging her head.

"Quite alright, Mistress. As I was saying, your mother, Lord Potter, did not like the method of finding books that was being used when she arrived here with young James."

He continued. "She spent months creating charms and applying them to the books and the ledger. She said it was a modified Dewey Decimal system. As you see on the list on the right, Potter Family History, Estate Management, and Quidditch are in the section labeled 00-49. Potions and Alchemy are 600 to 699, and Magical History and Geography are 900-999. The proper shelves are labeled on the end."

Harry could see that Hermione was practically combusting. She had instantly understood what young Lily Potter had done as she was very familiar with the muggle system used in libraries. And now that he looked for them, the labels on the ends of the shelving were obvious.

Ypres again held up a hand. "Before you go charging off, Mistress, I have more to impart. The easy way of finding books is to write the subject in as much detail as you want in the ledger. For example, writing 'Magical Fungi' in the ledger will give you a list of books, and what their decimal shelf location is.

The glowing dot on the left of the book title is keyed to how informative the book is on the subject. Mistress Lily told me it was keyed to visible colours. Red and orange are a poor match, yellow and green are better, but mediocre matches. Blue and purple glows are the best, and as I said earlier, those books will glow their proper colour as you walk near them. Is that understood? Books you put on the tables will be returned to the shelves overnight."

She nodded.

With the words, "I am done, Mistress," Hermione was off like a coursing hound let off her leash. She literally bounded into the rows of shelves and disappeared.

Ypres looked to where she had disappeared. "I recall your mother acting the same way the first time she entered here," he said looking at Harry.

Harry just gave him a half smile and shrugged.

"Which shelves carry the family history books, Ypres?" he said. He really had nothing else planned for the afternoon, and the thought of learning about his family had suddenly hit him strongly.

"Over there, Master. Zero-zero to forty-nine." Harry thanked him and started walking in that direction.

Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO

It was hours later when Harry re-entered the library looking for his missing friend. He found her easily enough. She was curled up on one of the couches holding a tome that rivaled her beloved Hogwarts, A History, in size. There were two other books on the low table in front of the couch.

"Hermione, it's time for tea. And we have to leave before your parents get home. I would hate for them not to allow you to come over again."

For a moment, she clutched the large book to her as though afraid he would take it from her. Apparently returning to the real world, she sighed and placed a scrap of parchment she had found somewhere in the pages as a bookmark, got off the couch, and laid the book on the table.

As she approached him, he crooked out his left arm in the approved fashion of the yet-to-be Yule Ball and asked, "May I escort you, MiLady?"

She looked down at her T-shirt, jeans, and trainers, glanced back up at him, and with a devilish grin looped her arm through his and said, "Lead on, kind sir."

Walked in a stately, measured fashion, he led her through the house to the courtyard garden. With his 'learn or be in trouble' eye, he could see that the flower beds and pathways had only received minimal attention. Only just enough to keep the garden from becoming a wilderness.

In the shade of a perfectly sized and shaped shade tree, there was a small, circular, black, wrought iron table, with a tan stone top. The two chairs sitting almost side-by-side, matched the table's colour, except the seat cushions were cloth.

A tea service and a sterling silver tower server with scones and muffins, and jam and clotted cream, sat on the table. Continuing his gentleman's demeanor, he pulled out a chair, then pushed the seated Hermione up into position. Sitting himself, he internally grinned as she in turn made a high-class production of pouring the tea and handing him his cup and saucer.

Nibbling on a muffin in his left hand, while taking occasional sips of tea from his right, Harry started to relax and enjoy himself. He could hear the chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects and the faint rustle of the wind through the garden's leaves as he stared at nothing in particular.

He lost track of the minutes sitting there at peace with the world for the first time in his memory.

He came back to himself and remembered that he had a guest. He looked over at Hermione and saw she was looking at him.

He looked at her with a clear "What?" plastered on his face.

"Harry, you've never held my chair for me before. Ever."

Harry had a puzzled look on his face as he remembered pulling her chair out and seating her several times.

"OOPS! Those are memories from fourth year. I've just made a cock-up of it. Explanation, I need an explanation," he thought in a panic.

"Really?" he stammered, his face flushing. "Huh, I … I guess I just wanted to act like a gentleman because this manor is my house now, and you are my first guest, and I wanted to show you how honoured I am that you are my first guest," he babbled in a rush.

He could see that he must have said something right as her eyes moistened, and her lip started quivering.

She stood up from her chair, took a step to his chair, grabbed his arm, stood him up, and enveloped him in a strong hug. Harry lost track of time as they stood there. Getting hugs from Hermione was definitely getting near the top of things he wanted more of.

After an unknown while, Hermione returned to her seat. And the tea time relaxation continued.

Later, a short walk in the garden used up the last minutes of time they had.

The pair strolled into the kitchen and Harry asked Ypres to take them back to the Granger house. This time, he grabbed both their hands, and one minor disorientation later, they were standing in the Granger kitchen.

"Thank you, Ypres. I'll call you when I'm ready to return to the house." Harry said.

It was only a short time later when the two adult Grangers walked in to find two kids watching The Dark Crystal movie VCR tape.

"Hello, Harry," said Mr. Granger. "We didn't expect to see you here."

"Sorry, sir," he replied. "I just couldn't let her make the trip alone."

Hermione giggled. Harry looked at her wide-eyed. He had never heard Hermione giggle like a real twelve-year-old. The surprised look set off more snickers from his cute, bushy-haired friend.

Mrs. Granger chipped in with that since they were leaving in three days, and didn't want to leave food that would spoil, they had brought Chinese takeaway for dinner, and did he like Chinese?

Like the Italian food a couple of days ago, Harry was enchanted by the new flavours and textures of eating non-standard British food. One of the things he found out was that something called General Tso's Chicken sent him reaching for his water glass, as he was entirely unused to any type of spicy hot flavour to his food. By the end of the meal, he decided some spicy dishes were quite the dining experience. Next time he had a chance, he was going to order it again, he told the Grangers.

Dinner was done, the few dishes washed, dried, and put away when Harry thanked everyone for dinner.

"Before I go, I want to do two things," he said turning to Hermione. "Do you think your parents would like to meet two magical creatures?

Getting two hasty affirmatives from her parents, Hermione looked back at him, practically glowing with excitement.

So, Harry thought very hard about Hedwig joining him. They could actually tell by the intense look on his face that he was calling something. Not one minute later, there was a pecking at the parlour window. When Hermione opened it, the beautiful snowy owl glided in and took perch on Harry's shoulder.

"Hello, girl," crooned Harry. "Did you miss me?

The bird returned a grumbling bark as Harry stroked her breast feathers. "You know Hermione, and these are her parents. I don't know if you met them when you brought letters to Hermione. If for any reason any of them needs a letter sent, you can take it for them, okay?"

Each of the three received a long, appraising look from the owl's intense amber eyes, followed by a snuffled 'Prek.'

The Grangers were mildly impressed with how the owl reacted to Harry. They had only seen her briefly when Hermione used her to carry the note that invited Harry to the house last weekend, they had been at work during other owl mail deliveries.

"That's my girl, said Harry affectionately. "Now, wait a minute."

"Ypres," spoke Harry.

And to the Grangers' wide-eyed astonishment, the now dignified-looking majordomo 'popped' into existence in the parlour.

"Lord Harry called?" he asked with a bow.

"Yes, I did. I need to introduce you to the parents of Hermione. This is Mr. Hector and Mrs. Helen Granger." He said, indicating the adults. "If they, or Hermione, ever feel that they need you for any reason, you are to answer their call. Is that understood?" finished Harry.

"Of course, Lord Harry." He replied and then proceeded to give a small bow to the other three.

"Now that that's sorted, it's time to go back to the Manor, Ypres."

He switched his attention up to Hedwig still on his shoulder. "Well girl, do you want to come with us, or do you want to fly if think you can find the manor now that I know where it is?"

Harry suddenly had the feeling he had committed blasphemy. She cuffed his head with her wing as she launched herself to fly out of the window they had forgotten about and left open.

"Guess she says she can," sounded a rueful Harry who was rubbing the back of his head. "This is one of those days when I'm pretty sure Hedwig believes she purchased me that day in Diagon Alley, not the other way around."

His attention returned to the wide-eyed, not-quite-processing-it-all Grangers. "Once again thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Hermione, I reckon I'll see you when you return from holiday."

He barely got the last out, before he was positive he was being squeezed by an eight-hundred-pound gorilla determined to crush his ribs.

The distinctive scent of Hermione's hair put paid to that idea.

"You better come get me the day after we get back," she said quietly in his ear.

She stepped back, and with a smile, Harry touched Ypres's shoulder and with a 'pop', they were gone.

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A/N:

Ahh, the beginning of fluff. Stuff'll rot your teeth, but 'tis better than angst.

About the only thing this chapter accomplished was further splendiferous Manor

description, house elf workings in this fanon, some more foreshadowing clues, and to push the HP/HG relationship a little.