Recent Review responses! Since I'm responding to a host of reviews across multiple chapters ill include name, date and chapter number.
Rickjames196 Ch. 30 Oct. 17
No he still has it i havnt lost the plot or anything. Don't worry it'll get a mention very soon.
Hudy Leak613 (bro, you comment on every chapter. I love it.)
Fanficfan03431 Ch. 11, Nov. 7
I'm good here, but I appreciate the enthusiasm!
I have a side story that isn't in Harry Potter. Read what I have posted and leave a review or a private message saying you're interested.
Tumshie Ch. 4, Nov. 8
I don't see what doesn't make sense about that sentence.
Cassandra30 Ch. 1.2.6.8.9, Nov. 14
Dang, you know I have never had anyone comment so much so fast. Keep it coming. I love it!
1. Thank you, honestly. Writing that opening has been the most difficult one; everything has kind of flowed after that.
2. She WAS upset, but she's also an upstanding and classy lady who was at work. If your bosses EVER start yelling at you when customers or clients are around, leave.
6. Except in very special circumstances (that you'll have read by the time you see this), that is illegal. You can't work on Muggles without there being something glaringly obvious wrong.
8. Thank you! I really enjoy typing out the little slice-of-life things that so many authors forget to include; it lends a bit of realism, IMO.
9. They will; Amelia follows procedures. There's parchment work that needs doing, and I'm not typing all that out, lol.
Harry sat in an empty classroom on a late Sunday afternoon in late March. He was currently putting the finishing touches on his Transfiguration essay on the distinction between cross-elemental and trans-elemental transfiguration. Being a week ahead of his coursework, he had time to reflect on his time, and he realized that these past two months had been his most regular, almost normal schooling experience since he joined the wizarding world. He'd gone to classes and learned very interesting things, he'd competed in Quidditch games and practices, he'd studied and worked with his friends. It was all so fantastically normal, he could even ALMOST overlook the six times he had now woken up from dark and creeping nightmares, or the three times on top of that where he had been so deep in the throes of vivid panic-fueled hallucinations that he had been held down by his mates until someone could retrieve Professor Weasley.
The most recent of those episodes had been just that morning, not even his head of house could get him to calm down.
"AHHHHHH!" Harry screamed. So much visceral terror filled his bones that his magic flung itself at everyone and everything around him in perceived self-defense.
"No! No! No! Not Bill, I have–" Harry shouted incoherently. This seemed to affect missus Weasley, who had pulled back from her efforts to get to Harry. Several upperclassmen started to send red bolts at Harry once their head of house had pulled back and no longer stopped them, but nothing connected. Harry was fighting an unconscious battle, and what he didn't dodge, his magic would fling something in the way and block the attack.
"Hermione!" said Ron. They all looked at him bewildered.
"Look, Ron, fancy the girl all you want, but it's not the time to–" said Percy before Ron interrupted him.
"No! You idiot, go get her! She can calm him down. She's told me she's done it before." And with barely a backward glance, Professor Weasley all but ran down the stairs and returned no more than two minutes later with Hermione, who, to her credit, did not hesitate in walking straight into the flinging maelstrom that was a panicked Harry Potter.
"Hermione, wait! You can't just barge in like that, he might–" said Molly before the second year cut her off with a smile.
"Don't worry, missus Weasley, Harry would never harm me." And true to her word, she did what no one else could and strode straight up to Harry. She wrapped him in a hug and whispered in his ear for a minute before another red flash came from her wand that was pointed at his back. At once, Harry went limp, and she guided him to the ground so he wouldn't get hurt. She backed away and watched Harry as missus Weasley and a few prefects checked him over and started fixing the room back to rights.
"What could have set him off like that? I know the lad suffers from nightmares, but I've never seen him quite that bad before." The leader of the lions whispered in fear of waking the gryphon in their midst.
"Most likely something happened and it redoubled his nightmares, and his fight or flight response went into overdrive." Everyone around Hermione stared at her. "Honestly? Doesn't anyone read psychology? Something happened—something he read or saw scared him and put his subconscious into self-preservation mode. We won't know until we ask, and knowing Harry, that won't be for a while after this. If he even talks to anyone. I know he's been writing to Tonks about his nightmares, but this—" Hermione finished hesitantly.
"Well I suppose the best thing for everyone is to go back to bed, it's still very early. Thank you everyone for your assistance." Missus Weasley calls out to the prefects while levitating Harry back to his bed.
Harry had been called to the headmistress's office and offered special counseling, which he refused, saying that his letters to Tonks would help him far more than a stranger ever could. After that meeting was when he decided to pour himself into his homework, completely redoing his entire week's assignments and going around to his classes and asking for something extra. Most teachers were understanding of his desire for a distraction, and even Snape had a goal for him, even if it wasn't extra work.
"No, Potter, I won't give you extra work. If you want to learn extra potions, do it on your own. But, Potter, I find myself curious as to the effects of that potion you brewed during the winter holidays."
That had sent Harry's mind reeling. Professor Snape had all but given him permission to prank the school, something the twins hadn't even managed to do yet. It would require serious thought. Harry decided to leave his hideaway and go for a walk around the school before dinner, and he was very surprised to see Luna Lovegood skipping down the seventh-floor corridor.
"Hello, Luna," Harry called to the girl, causing her to stop and turn her eyes onto Harry. Luna's eyes, Harry had learned, were very protuberant and, according to Ginny, normally an icy blue. However, after the ritual, they had turned scarlet, as if blood was flooding her irises. While unnerving, the headmistress had assured the student body that Luna was perfectly healthy and had shown no signs of any dark magic contamination outside of what was normal for the experience she went through.
"Hello, Harry. Are you doing better now? I saw you in my dreams fighting the Nargles away," said Luna in a spacey voice.
"Errr, yeah, I'm fine. How are you, and what are you doing up here?" asked Harry.
"Oooh, I'm fiiine. A bit tired, you know. But Madam Pomfrey tells me it's normal. My magical core still hasn't completely healed from the ordeal over Christmas. And I am up here contemplating the answer to the riddle to get into Ravenclaw Tower."
"Riddle? What? No password?" asked Harry.
"Noooo, don't be silly, you have to answer a question to get in."
"What if you don't know the answer?"
At this, she shrugged. "You either figure it out or wait until someone else comes along who can. That way, you learn. It's normally an academic question, but I think the door thinks I'll know everything, as it's started asking me rather philosophical questions and riddles lately, and this latest one has me stumped."
"Well, I'm not great at riddles, but I can take a crack at it," offered Harry with a smile, glad to see the first-year girl had recovered from the last time he'd spoken to her broken form in the hospital wing.
"I am neither a guest nor a trespasser; in this place, I belong, that belongs also to me. Of what do I speak?" the blonde girl intoned.
Harry blinked a few times, mulling it over in his head. "It couldn't be 'home,' could it? You're not a guest or a trespasser in your home, and you belong in your home even if you don't necessarily own it."
The girl blinked owlishly. "That could very well work, Harry Potter. Thank you. I have been needing to get into the door for three hours now." And she turned around and skipped off without a second glance.
'Guess I'll ask her about it later at dinner' as he continued his own trek through the castle. As he continued to aimlessly wander in the general direction of the Great Hall he came to pass the library and to his surprise Hermione exited the door just as he approached.
"Oh Harry! There you are, Ron and I were looking for you earlier." She said happy to see him.
"Yea sorry, I just needed some time alone. I was redoing all my homework." said Harry, both second years falling into step beside each other as they walked down for dinner.
"Would you like me to go over it for you?" asked Hermione.
"What? And have you copy all my hard-found research? No thanks, you'll have to earn the top spot yourself, thank you." Said Harry, laughing at the indignant look on his friend's face.
"I would never cheat! If your information was any good, I'd go find your reference material and form my own thoughts. Thank you." His friend responded vehemently.
"And I'll still win the first spot in class rankings."
"And why is that, Harry? Because I'm a girl and thus not as capable?"
"No! It's because I'm just better than you! Not because you're a girl." Laughed Harry.
"Oooooh, you—well, we'll see just who gets the top spot this year. I think I have a good chance of beating you since Defense Against the Dark Arts has been so…. academic this year.
"Ooooh, I know what you mean. Although this last unit on dark plants has been rather fascinating. Learning the environmental factors that allow things like the creeping swatter or trees like the Whomping Willows to grow is neat."
"I agree," Hermione said happily as Harry opened the door to the Great Hall and then moved across the hall, ready for dinner. They found and sat around Ron, who was displaying his normal disdain for table manners.
Things at Hogwarts continued in their monotonous routine, but that did not mean things were boring. Harry was competing against Hermione, Daphne, and three Ravenclaws for the prize of number one student. Harry was receiving more mail in his position as Lord Potter. And Harry even managed to find a new pen pal in Mister Necalli Chemalli, who had started writing to Harry to discuss the "true" meaning behind being a Parselmouth, which was a sacred ability in his culture.
This was one bit of correspondence he always looked forward to, ever since the first one arrived just two weeks after the start of term.
"Lord Potter,
I am Senior Necalli Chemalli, the jaguar mage from the school's chamber, and a fellow Parselmouth. I hope you don't mind me writing to you without permission, but I find myself compelled to fulfill a duty.
I wish to write to you and teach you the true meaning behind our abilities as speakers of the true voice. I can teach you exactly what we can do, what you can learn, and how to act when in the presence of a true serpent so you don't get bitten.
If you are amenable, please write back, and I will start your instruction. It will take a while between letters, as international letters take about a week to reach where I live.
I hope to receive your letter soon,
Necalli Chemalli "
Already, Harry had learned about the proper structure of the Parseltongue language and how to augment the language to speak to a wider variety of serpents. Non-magical snakes can't speak at all but can understand and will take orders from any speaker. While magical snakes like the Ashwinder can speak back to various degrees of intelligence to you, they have a higher level of resistance. "Royal" serpents like the Basilisk, the Quetzalcoatl, or the winged serpents, as the English call them, can talk back and have human or even beyond-human intelligence.
Mr. Chamalli warned that basilisks are a two-sided coin. While female basilisks are calm, albeit fierce in attitude and personality, male basilisks are completely mad. They speak only of death, domination, and devouring their prey, and not even the most powerful Parselmouth would be able to communicate with them. It made him appreciate Smara even more. When his Mexican pen pal was not teaching him, he was reading the books from Slytherin's library. The first time he tried this, Hermione was in front of him, and it frightened her immensely.
"AHHHHH!" Hermione shrieked and knocked her chair over to get away from Harry.
Harry threw the book aside and rushed to help his friend, who was breathing heavily on the ground. "What? What's wrong? What did I do? I was just reading."
"Yes, Harry, you were just reading. Unfortunately, when you started reading in Parseltongue, your eyes—your eyes changed into a snake's eyes, no whites, glowing an acid green with a long, slender pupil bisecting each eye from lid to lid. Ooooh, it was a horrible surprise," Hermione panted out.
After that, Harry made sure to hide his face completely behind the books as he read so he wouldn't scare his housemates. Mister Chamalli said that it was a natural reaction to reading Parseltongue and not to worry about it.
The transformative aspects of Parsel magic gave Harry an idea for later in his Hogwarts career when he was no longer forbidden from studying human transfiguration. Figuring out how that works at an unconscious and untrained level would be an amazing accomplishment. Both McGonagall and Missus Weasley agreed and asked that when he started his experiments, they be able to assist in some way.
Time moved on quickly for Harry and the rest of Hogwarts. March turned to February, which turned into April, with the only things to break the routine being Lockhart's horrendous method of celebrating Valentine's Day and the feast tonight to celebrate the start of the spring vacation.
Valentine's Day had started with the three friends making their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. No one expected anything, as Valentine's Day was not normally celebrated as a whole by the school, usually just couples. So it came as a surprise when they came in to find the Great Hall bedecked with heaps of glitter, displays of flying Cupid arrows, and real cherubs flying around, strumming on harps and singing in soft voices. The walls of the Great Hall were lined with about 40 surly-looking dwarves dressed like bright pink mailmen.
Everyone hung around after breakfast to see if there would be an explanation for the dwarves who all looked like they were deeply regretting their life choices at the moment. And they weren't disappointed as Lockhart himself stood up.
"Hello everyone, can you all hear me? Can you all see me?
Most excellent.
As you have no doubt noticed, it is February fourteenth, which happens to be my favorite holiday of the year. And I would like to thank the thirty-three people who sent me a card.
I figured I'd ask the headmistress if we could break slightly from tradition and acknowledge Valentine's Day; so in the spirit of the day, there will be cherubs flying around and they are allowed to randomly pick students and have them sing love sonnets and poems. As well, most of the teachers have agreed to teach something on the theme of the day. And finally, as you may have noticed, I have hired a troupe of card-carrying cupids. For a small fee, they will hand-deliver cards and treats. There is a stand just outside the Great Hall that will sell cards and candies for you to send, and for a higher but still reasonable fee, they will deliver a singing valentine to the person of your choice. That will be all for now. I suggest you all get to your classes."
What followed was a mix of embarrassment and hilarity from students including Ron getting struck with an arrow and breaking out in song at the nearest girl. Ron was unfortunate enough to sing a love song to Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin from their year who had the unfortunate build of a professional rugby player and had a matching temperament. The fact that Ron seemed to be particularly affected by the cherub's magic had the skinny, lanky boy grab hold of the stout Slytherin and twirl and dip her as he finished his poem, which made it even more hilarious to those around him. Ron wasn't seen the rest of the day, but Harry was approached by Millicent some hours later with a card and thank-you note for Ron that he promised to pass on.
Harry was doing his best to ignore the whole thing until he was rather unceremoniously pulled into a hidden alcove. "So, Potter," the girl spoke, "what are you getting for your friends, Granger and Daphne?"
"Err, I wasn't planning to—"
"Eh-eh, wrong answer. You're going to go and get Granger a nice card and write a nice handwritten note that you're going to give to her. And Daphne, you're going to get her the deluxe box of chocolates and a card for delivery."
"Shouldn't I get Hermione the chocolates too? Won't she feel left out if she finds out I got them for Daphne?"
"That's up to you, but I've never seen her eat dessert."
"She does… hmm, maybe a small box then. Why do you care so much?"
"Because, you dolt, romantic or not, you mean a lot to my friends, and I've quickly taken Hermione in as a friend as well. And I know they would both appreciate the gesture. Now, go and get it."
That saw Harry scramble to go down to the table set up to buy Honeydukes chocolates and specially enchanted cards. It also saw him fret and worry about finding two that were different and not at all romantic, which was a bust, so he settled on a card and chocolate set for Hermione. The card was enchanted to spit out confetti every minute or so and was mildly romantic. And a card and large chocolate set for Daphne. This card did not shoot confetti and was even less romantic, more like a very sweet thank-you card than anything. A hastily scribbled note about how much the two girls meant to him and apologizing for his terrible Valentine's practice, with a promise to do better in the future.
Harry ended up giving the cards to both girls himself as, just as he was about to pay for delivery, a dwarf bustled up to Harry.
"Ahem. I have a musical note here for Harry Potter," the dwarf said in a gruff tone. Harry looked around, looking for a way out, but as he lifted his feet from the ground, he realized his shoes were stuck to the floor.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad.
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
He's really divine! I wish he were mine!
The hero that conquered the Dark Lord!"
Harry's feet came unstuck, and he fell forward onto his knees, beet red in embarrassment.
"I don't think Potter liked your Valentine, Weasley!" drawled Malfoy loudly to the crowd.
Harry looked at the tearful, pale face of Ginny Weasley, and he knew he couldn't let Malfoy get away with that comment, no matter how bad that poem was.
"Funny, Malfoy! All these messengers going around and I haven't seen one give any to you!
Ginny's poem might not have been the best, but it's miles better than anything you've gotten so far!" Harry called back. "Thanks for the card, Ginny," said Harry after he had walked up to the troubled first year.
"What do I need people writing me dumb love poems for? I'm popular enough not to broadcast it for—" said Malfoy, being cut off by the twins.
"Yeah, yeah, alright, Malfoy, get a move on," said Fred, pushing the second-year Ponce down the hallway.
"Thanks, Harry. Maybe limericks aren't my thing. Who are those for?" Asked Ginny.
"Oh, uh, Hermione and Daphne Greengrass. She's in Slytherin; I don't know if you've met her yet."
"The Ice Queen? I know of her at the very least. I saw you dancing with her at your party. I didn't know you were actual friends, though."
"We are. We study together sometimes."
After that, hand-delivering his gifts wasn't such an embarrassment, except for having to ask Snape to open the door to the Slytherin common room. Harry had received a kiss on the cheek for his trouble, and a cackling Tracey Davis almost immediately confiscated Daphne's chocolate, cackling over her victory.
Hermione gave him a tearful hug in thanks for her first-ever Valentine's Day card, and she also gave Harry a kiss on the cheek.
Now, several weeks later, Harry had been a very busy boy, planning and plotting a very special event. Harry and his friends sat for the feast to celebrate everyone going off for spring break. And just as everyone put their goblets down from drinking the ceremonial toast of fair fortune, a bit of parchment appeared on the plate of everyone in the hall, the colors listed as different emotions.
"What's this?" asked Hermione as she picked up the paper in front of her.
Blue - happy
Red - angry
Violet - confused
Orange - hungry
Green - envious
Yellow - satisfied
Indigo - sad
Black - murderous
White - neutral
On the back of the card was a paw print stamp inside a recent moon encircled by a rat with large antlers decorating the top of the print. The calling card of "the marauders", his father's school boy gang who spent most of their time pranking various parts of the school's population. Harry had found the symbol while going through his father's old school things in Blackstone Manor.
Chattering filled the hall as people asked variations of Hermione's question. But suddenly they all went quite silent as the hair of everyone in the Great Hall started to change color. There were at first many people with white, blue, or orange hair, those three being the most common varieties. But the Weasley twins started as yellow, matching with Katie and Angelina across from them. But then their yellow locks changed to vivid violet, and then swiftly to a green that would make acid jealous.
All around the hall, people pointed and laughed at their friends as they translated the color code in front of them. Particular focus was put onto the people with yellow hair. Harry somewhat understood what "satisfied" meant but didn't have the correct knowledge base to work from. Hermione's hair was a constant, fluid mix of blue, violet, green, and yellow, oddly enough.
"What could you possibly be satisfied about, Hermione?" asked Harry in confusion.
"Oh well, you know this is a good prank. Fred and George did really well. I don't have to approve of something to appreciate it. And what are you so satisfied about, Harry? Your hair hasn't shifted at all."
"A prank well done, Hermione. I think my father would be very proud," said Harry.
"Wait, this is you? I swear this is something Fred and George would think up," said Ron, whose hair had stayed staunchly orange the entire time. It was then that the headmistress stood up, displaying a most frightening display of violet, red, and black.
"I see that the grand Hogwarts tradition of pranking has remained intact despite me going to great lengths to curb the practice.
Be warned that if I ever get evidence of who the extremely foolish person who did this is, they will be at the very least suspended from this school." At this, the headmistress turned her eyes straight to Harry and winked. Harry quickly averted his eyes and found Snape, whose yellow hair was almost as frightening as the headmistress's black, but Harry could guess that the yellow was more for the successful deployment of Harry's extremely finicky project than anything that Harry would rather not think about.
"She knew it was me!" Harry said as he fled the great hall after the feast. "Maybe I shouldn't have included that calling card from my dad."
"No Harry, that was probably more than a little foolhardy. Professor McGonagall taught your dad and his friends, didn't she?" Said Hermione as she followed him at pace. Not that it mattered as-
"Mister Potter, a word please!" The headmistress shouted. And Harry didn't say anything to her but walked up, ready to face the music.
"Has Sirius Black been released from his hospital ward?"
"No headmistress. I don't believe so."
"Has Remus Lupin finally come back to Britain?
"Who ma'am?"
"Remus Lupin, another friend of your father. And I doubt Peter Petigrew is out running around from wherever he decided to hide."
"Errr, no ma'am."
"Well then, I find it quite interesting that that particular symbol has appeared so long after its designers left this school. Perhaps Peeves is feeling nostalgic tonight.
Good night, Mister Potter."
"Good night, Headmistress," Harry said with a shiver.
"How did you do it!" was the first thing he heard from the Weasley twins when he first got back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Sorry, guys, I'm not telling. Family recipe."
The twins hung their heads in their normal theatrics. "Well, look, we didn't know your dad was a Marauder?"
"Err, yeah, him and some friends from school."
"Right, see, we were recently in a spot of trouble with Filch, and we were in his office, and he was threatening us with, you know."
"The usual."
"Detention."
"Disarming."
"Disembowelment."
"You know, the regular threats. And that's when we noticed, on one of his bottom drawers, a label."
"Confiscated and highly dangerous."
"And we found this." He held up a manky old bit of parchment. "Now, we can't tell you what this is,"
"Yet."
"But when you try to open it, it won't unfold past one fold. And when you put some magic into it, like a revealing spell. Well, watch this," said George, completing their head-thundering conglomerate that the twins call speech.
"Revelio" said Fred, casting at the parchment. But nothing happened for a few seconds — until the same symbol that Harry had just put on display for the Great Hall appeared out of the ink lots now maring the surface of the parchment.
" We're going to keep working on this over the spring holidays but we were wondering if you could go through your dad's old school things, see if they mention anything about a square bit of parchment or Filch nicking something off of him or his friends."
"Yeah, I can do that. No problem, I'll owl you if I find anything." After that, Harry chose to sit on the couch next to the fire, which was lit to warm the cool spring nights. A familiar weight settled next to him and then leaned against him with practiced ease.
"I hope you brought me a book if you're going to use me as a backrest," Harry said. Hermione laughed, and a small paperback filled Harry's vision.
"Lord of the Rings. Well, if you insist, this guy's writing is worse than watching plants grow," said Harry, smirking.
"Well, if you don't like my choice in literature, then you should remember to bring your own book next time." Hermione then wiggled her back, digging in deeper, and Harry fit his arm around the girl. And they spent the time before bed reading in companionable silence..
The next night found Harry enjoying a family dinner with the Grangers and the Weasleys as added guests. Everyone was loud and boisterous, telling stories of their time apart since going back to Hogwarts. Bill Weasley was just recounting his most recent haul of treasure from an Egyptian tomb when a fiery explosion seemed to fill the air. No one was hurt, but everyone had their faces covered to protect from the perceived but nonexistent heat. At the point in the air where the explosion had occurred over the table now sat a magnificent golden bird whose feathers appeared to be made of fire. It carried a large, square object in its beak. All the adults were pointing their wands at it. It thrilled out a soft, sad song that filled Harry's mind with warmth. Then it hopped along the table and deposited its package in front of Harry before another gout of fire roared from its body, and the bird was gone.
Bill stood and scanned the package before touching it. "No magic," he said before unwrapping it. It revealed a white sign that said two words:
"Privet Drive."
Harry went stiff, he had not thought about his relatives since he started his new life. Despite how they treated him he didn't want them to come to harm. He looked up at Bill, at Andromeda, at Arthur and Molly Weasley, with wide fearful eyes.
"Go!" said Harry breathlessly. Ted and Andromeda grabbed Bill, Arthur, and Molly, and with a twist, they were gone. What followed was well over three hours of the worst waiting in Harry's life. Eventually, Hermione had been so fed up with his pacing that she pulled him down onto a couch and sat on him, only to be dog-piled by the twins a moment later.
After three hours, everyone popped back in, looking no worse for wear, maybe a bit tired.
"Everyone and everything is fine. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin are perfectly okay. Their memories and minds are their own, and there was no sign of distress other than having a bunch of people they don't trust pointing wands at them, which I think we can all agree is a fine excuse to raise your dander a bit," said Arthur, cleaning his glasses. "We took the liberty to call the peacekeepers and notify them of the threat, and they pulled in an emergency ward team to put protections on your relatives' house, including an emergency Portkey that will deposit them in the Ministry atrium if need be."
"I don't like this," interjected Bill. "That was Dumbledore's bird. He wouldn't do this without a reason."
"It's possible that he was simply seeing who Harry had protecting him," replied Arthur. "He will need a guard…."
"No I won't, Dumbledore might have gone insane but he won't attack me in public — not after last time. I'm certain he's still smart enough to learn from his mistakes."
"Yes, I'm certain you are correct. This week, Harry, we will be practicing your dueling skills, and when you get back to Hogwarts, I'll talk to Professor Chambers about putting you in a more challenging course in the dueling club."
With so much to look forward to, Harry and Andromeda got to work putting together a timetable for the week of Harry's various lessons, meetings, hobbies, free time, and, of course, cataloging Slytherin's books into a miniature library that Andromeda had built in Lord Potter's office. The books were mainly highly advanced arithmetic calculations encoded in Parseltongue in a bid to hide their true purpose. Neither Harry nor Andromeda knew enough about Arithmancy to understand just what it was that Slytherin was doing or attempting to do. At least twelve books so far were slight variations of the same calculation stream, with what Harry suspected was the last book having a comment on something working and defending the "construction" against a massive "fyrd," which Andromeda told him was a type of peasant army.
Throughout the spring break, Harry also met with several notable people in magical society: Cyrus Greengrass, Theodore Nott, and Augusta Longbottom to discuss the coming planting season, what buyers were looking for, what plants held a surplus in the market, and what rare ingredients people were looking for in and outside of the UK. He also met with the director of St Mungo's who was looking to secure a donation. And Harry found the time to go to Gringotts and start exploring his vaults .
The aptly named "money" vault was a visual representation of the word affluence. It was organized into two open and extended chests with a near constant stream of gold, silver, and bronze coins materializing above the chests and dropping into the gaping maw inside each magical compartment as the magic of the bank worked to move around the near constant stream of subtractions and additions to the Potter family coffers.
The family vault was far more grand in Harry's opinion and a gross display of opulence. If Harry hadn't known the collection was over one thousand years old, he would have found it offensive. The magical world did not have a museum that he knew of, but many pieces in this vault looked like they belonged in one.
Harry also dueled Andromeda. She was terrifying in action. Members of the Black family, she had said, were taught from an early age to be proficient in attack and defense, as the family had more enemies than allies, and most of their allies were enemies. Andromeda herself was the best duelist among her siblings, even the criminally insane Bellatrix.
During some of his few free hours, Harry met with Daphne. She came for an afternoon where they walked the grounds of Blackstone Manor and explored the library. It was during their walk that they came to rest, and a memory from the start of the year came to him. "Hey, I just remembered something."
"Oh? And what is it you have remembered?" asked Daphne.
"The first night, Smara went with you to the Slytherin common room. She said that she had something to show you that might have been lost, but she never explained what it was."
Daphne blushed a deep scarlet. "It—it doesn't matter. It's something only Tracey and I know of, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for now, if you don't mind. It's something to do with water, if that is enough for you."
"Ooh, err, yeah, sure. Sorry, I was just curious."
"It's fine. It's just I've never spoken of it before. To anyone."
The week away came and went in a soft and steady fashion, and Harry was even more exhausted than he usually was when his head left his four-poster that next Sunday night after another long train journey.