The Shrieking Shack stood on a hill where it loomed over the gravel pathway that led up to it. A rusted fence surrounded the infamous property and a number of people seemed to be approaching it in a trail of spaced apart couples.
"This is an…extremely interesting choice for a date location," Daphne said as she stared at Blaise who held her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Especially on Valentine's Day."
"Well I am an extremely interesting man," he said with a wink that she'd never tell him she found charming.
They walked through the unlocked fence (which had been chained shut as long as she'd known about the place) and she didn't fail to notice wards that would redirect anyone other than the DA.
Ahead of them, Ron and Hermione were visible in the distance. They were higher up the hill than anyone else. Far behind them, she had seen the familiar pigtails of Hannah Abbott who was being escorted by Neville Longbottom.
"It's not the only interesting thing," she said. "I see two other couples that seem to be going to the same place. What kind of company will we be keeping tonight?"
"Oh I am your only company tonight, darling," he said smoothly with another one of those winks. "The others are what I would call patrons of the same establishment, that's all."
"Establishment?" she parroted uncharacteristically. "The Shrieking Shack isn't an establishment."
"Perhaps it is tonight," was all he would say.
Up ahead, Ron and Hermione were having a similar conversation but he insisted it was a surprise and she dropped it quickly.
"I'm glad our time on guard went smoothly," she said instead.
"Yeah, everyone who had duty yesterday said it went smoothly as well," Ron said. "I think this visit was announced on too short of a notice for the Dark Lord to plan an attack."
Some might say he was tempting fate by saying that while there's still time remaining but they were feeling pretty confident. Things were quiet and Brock had made contact to say that there wasn't anything happening on his side of things.
"I don't think the Headmaster should chance it a second time."
"I think this was a special occasion, honestly," Ron said. "It's good for student morale, you know? It'll be the last one for awhile though, I bet."
"That's probably for the best. This has been nerve wracking."
"Well you can relax for now and focus on enjoying lunch," he said as they approached the ramshackle door.
"Relax, enjoy, and lunch — three words I don't associate with the Shrieking Shack," Hermione remarked with a good-natured smile.
"You have to admit it has a certain ambiance."
"Oh sure," she laughed as he stepped forward to open the door for her.
"Ladies first," Ron said as he held it open.
"Why thank you," she said with a pleased blush. "Oh, wow."
A layer of gold silk curtains covered the doorway and when she parted them and stepped through, she was surprised. Instead of the rundown foyer and collapsing stairs, she was greeted by a wide corridor created by gold silk fabric. It had been pinned to the ceiling and pooled to the floor to create false walls.
"Oh my goodness," Hermione said before turning to look at Ron. "What did you do?"
"Not as much as you'd think," he said. "The main thing was fixing the floors, really. We just hung these curtains to hide the walls and windows then blocked off the rest of the house."
"It looks amazing," she praised as she looked at the shimmery drapes. Two standing floor candelabras had been brought in to provide light. A mahogany podium stood in front of a set of dark purple curtains that led to the main room. Standing behind it on a small stool, a uniformed house-elf stood proudly.
"Welcome to the Shrieky Shack," he greeted.
"Hey, Nippy," Ron said.
"Can I's be taking your cloaks?"
"Sure, thank you."
"Yes, please," Hermione agreed.
A snap of the little elf saw their cloaks being delicately pulled off their shoulders as if by invisible hands. They were hung on a waiting coatrack.
"Blaise and the house-elves handled most of the designing, honestly," Ron admitted as he watched Hermione tuck away her gloves. "I was more of the idea man."
"I can't wait to see what the two of you came up with."
"Speak of the devil," Ron said with a nod towards the entrance where Blaise and Daphne were stepping in.
"Welcome to the Shrieky Shack," Nippy said again promptly.
"Hermione," Daphne greeted with a nod. "Ron."
"Hey guys," Hermione said.
"This is unexpected," Daphne said as she looked around.
"Can I's be taking your cloaks?" Nippy asked, continuing to be the perfect host.
The two Slytherin's got out of their cloaks, hats, and scarves. Daphne was wearing a rather fetching set of sapphire blue robes that looked more like a dress. Hermione was wearing a dress, a red one she'd bought in the muggle world with her mother.
"You look wonderful," Blaise commented.
"Thank you," Daphne accepted graciously.
"I have to say, Weasley, I didn't think you'd manage to pull it off," the dark-skinned Slytherin said as he glanced at Ron. "I'm impressed."
"What glowing praise," the Weasley said sarcastically.
"When you suggested planning a Valentine's Day date together, I nearly sent you to the infirmary for a head check."
"After I suggested turning the Shrieking Shack into a date venue, you did send for Hannah to check my head," Ron said, sounding unimpressed.
"You suggested bringing Daphne to the Shrieking Shack on a date," he defended. "It sounded crazy."
"It still sounds crazy," the blonde in question said dryly. "But I find myself hesitantly hopeful. It looks promising so far."
"It's amazing what a group of house-elves can do," Ron agreed. "Nice work, Nippy."
"Thank you, Master Wheezes," the little elf said.
"Did you let them decorate?" Daphne asked curiously.
"No," Ron answered immediately as he looked at her like she's crazy. He had seen how they had decorated their own rooms in Firewall. "I decided to go for something more…understated here. Blaise did most of the decorating."
"Good call."
"If we want to have time for our meal, we should start soon," Blaise said as he checked his fine, gold-faced watch. "We have a bit more than an hour as it stands."
"Alright then," Ron nodded as he offered Hermione his arm and led her towards Nippy's podium. "Ready?"
"Absolutely."
"Table for two, please," he said to the elf.
"Do you's have a reservation?" Nippy asked seriously. The question was unexpected and rather cute coming from the uniformed elf, nearly making Hermione laugh.
"Erm, yes?"
Nippy looked at him skeptically and Ron looked confused. "Name?" the elf asked firmly.
"Uh I'm Ron," he said, blinking rapidly. "Ron Weasley."
"Hm, Nippy's be checking."
The elf pulled an actual schedule book from within the podium and began to clearly flip through pages of it. Hermione choked back a laugh.
"What the fuck?" Ron whispered to Blaise.
"Language!" his girlfriend said.
Ron was distracted by her scolding and didn't notice the smirk on Blaise's face. He looked way too pleased and amused. Daphne elbowed him lightly and raised a brow in askance, looking between the redhead and the elf pointedly.
"What did you do?" she whispered, barely moving her lips and speaking too low for the other couple to hear.
"I may have arranged a little light evening entertainment," he said innocently. "All I did was explain to the house-elves that we wanted an authentic restaurant experiences."
"I is being sorry, sir, but I is not seeing your reservation here," Nippy said to Ron with an apologetic look.
"That didn't sound very sincere," Daphne snorted with amusement.
"I know," Blaise chortled. "Just like a real restaurant."
"You don't?" Ron asked.
"Did you forget to make a reservation?" Hermione asked, faking concern as she began to get in on the joke.
"I- Well I mean-" Ron blustered, completely thrown off his game. He was trying so hard to be smooth too. "I swear I…wait a second!"
"We's be putting you a small wait list, sir," Nippy said before Ron could begin to protest much more.
"What?" the redhead asked incredulously. "A wait list? That's impossible."
"It is being Valentine's Day, after all, and we's is very busy."
"You're what?" he asked even more incredulously.
"See?" Blaise chuckled again. "Exactly like a real restaurant."
"Even if the meal is disappointing, this alone would have been worth it," Daphne laughed, the bell-like sound drawing the other couples attention.
"Excuse me," Blaise said as he held his arm out to Daphne. "My lady?"
She took his arm without question and allowed him to lead her past Ron and Hermione confidently. He stopped in front of the podium with a grin pulling at his lips.
"Zabini-Greengrass, table for two."
"Hyphenated, nice," Daphne said with an appreciative nod. Blaise accepted it with half a smile, pleased she'd noted his attempt at earning brownie-points.
"One moment, sir," Nippy said officiously, reaching for his book.
As he opened it, Blaise pulled a shiny silver sickle from his pocket. He proceeded to slide it very, very obviously across the podium with a loud scraping noise.
"For your troubles," he whispered loudly with an exaggerated wink. The elf immediately closed the book without even reading it and gave Blaise a pleased smile.
"I be seeing your reservation right here, sir," he said as he pocketed the silver sickle.
"See?" Blaise whispered to Daphne. "Just like a real restaurant."
"Are you kidding me?" Ron spluttered in shock.
"Oh I'm enjoying this very much," the Slytherin ice princess laughed.
"Right this way," Nippy said, ignoring Ron as he climbed off of his stool. "Your table is ready."
He held open the purple curtains for them courteously and allowed Blaise to lead Daphne into the main room. By this point, Ron was reduced mostly to wordless gesticulations as his face reddened. He turned to Hermione as if to see if she knew what was going on only to find her laughing into her hand.
"I've been had, haven't I?" he realized as Blaise turned to wink over his shoulder and Daphne laughed again loudly.
"I can only assume so," she giggled as they disappeared into the main room.
"That's the last time I plan anything with him," Ron huffed.
"I think it was worth it," she said with amusement. "Nippy looked like he had fun."
"A little too much fun, if you ask me."
"I might be guilty of that too," Hermione chuckled.
Nippy returned quickly and gave Ron a sly grin that made the redhead shake his head and laugh reluctantly.
"Your table is being ready now," Nippy said, giggling a little as he was no longer able to maintain a straight face.
"Thanks, Nippy," Ron said, still laughing a little. "That was a good one."
Neville and Hannah entered the Shrieking Shack right at that moment. They waved at Ron and Hermione with ruddy cheeks and bright grins.
"Hey guys," they greeted.
"No issues on your patrol?" Ron asked.
"Nope, all clear."
"Welcome to the Shrieky Shack," Nippy said. "Can I's be taking your cloaks?"
They agreed and Nippy took their cloaks with another snap.
"Thank you," Neville said.
"I's be right with yous in a minute," Nippy said before opening the purple curtains for Ron and Hermione. "Please follow me."
"Oh wow," Hermione said as she saw the transformed main room.
Dark purple silk covered all the walls from floor to ceiling, forming a large square area. The center of the room had an ice sculpture of a cupid surrounded by a floral arrangement. A crystal chandelier glittered where it floated in the middle of the room. It was clearly supported by magic as it wasn't connected to the ceiling.
"What do you think?"
"This is beautiful," Hermione said as she looked around. "We were lucky to get a table at a place this nice without a reservation."
"Oh don't you start," he said.
There appeared to be four tables placed in each corner of the room. Each of them was ringed by decorative wooden three-panel screens to give them more privacy. Bushy, pink flowered potted plants were placed in the gaps between screens. She caught half a glimpse of Daphne as they passed by but wasn't able to hear anything thanks to muffling charms.
"Here is your table," Nippy said politely. "Your server is being on the way. Please be feeling free to read our drink selection."
The elf walked away (which, Ron realized, was odd for him to see as they normally just popped off) and he hurried to pull out Hermione's seat.
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile.
"You look beautiful tonight," he told her. He tried not to blush when he realized he'd said it out loud (and maybe a little too loud, at that).
"Well I'm glad I'm not overdressed," she said
"I wasn't talking about the dress," he said as he took his own seat, losing his fight against the blush. It was true though; she was beautiful no matter what she wore. Even though she was already his girlfriend, he still got flustered. "Though it's a very nice dress."
Hermione smiled a little wider before reaching out to take the shiny, triangular drink menu that was standing in the center of their table next to the floral centerpiece.
"This is really feeling like a real restaurant," she said as she read the printed font on the menu. "A butterbeer and bottle list?"
"Harry offered a few wines and meads," Ron shrugged. "I figure we're responsible enough to handle a glass or two and there's sobering charms in case of emergency."
"You learned a sobering charm?"
"Oh definitely," he said. "I used to have to cast them on the twins when they started testing their homemade brews."
"Fred and George made alcohol?"
"Not after the second explosion almost caused structural damage to the Burrow,"
A light pop interrupted them as a different uniformed elf appeared.
"I is Sassy and I is being your server tonight," the elf said, clearly remembering a practiced line.
"Hi Sassy," Hermione said with a smile as she greeted the familiar elf.
"Can I be's taking your drink order?" she asked. "Or is you needing another minute?"
The elves were really nailing this whole 'real restaurant' vibe, Ron had to say.
"Do you want to try a glass of mead?" Ron asked, knowing that it was particularly good.
"Oh why not?" Hermione agreed.
"We'll both have the elven mead then."
"Very good, sir, ma'am," Slippy said before snapping his finger. Two leather folders appeared in front of them and the drink menu disappeared. "I be returning soon with your drinks."
"An actual menu?" Hermione said as she opened it curiously and saw a full list of appetizers, sides, and main courses. It seemed to be standard British fare with some muggle options that weren't typical in the wizarding world.
"Colin designed them, actually," Ron said.
"Really?" she asked. "I thought they looked muggle-made."
"He helped with planning this too," Ron nodded. "He should be here with Sophie Roper soon."
"Sophie Roper, really?" Hermione asked as she thought about the pretty, dark-haired Slytherin. She had soft features and kind eyes (when she wasn't on the training mats, at least).
"They apparently got to know each other pretty well working on the press squad."
"Huh," she said. "I could see that working out."
"And you saw Neville and Hannah already," Ron said. "He helped with all the plants."
"So you recruited all of the boys to make this happen, huh?"
"Pretty much," he said. "We all wanted somewhere to go that wasn't Hogwarts but also wasn't so crowded as Hogsmeade."
"Between the younger years in Hogwarts and the older students in the village, everywhere is pretty much overrun," Hermione agreed.
"Yeah, you actually do have to make a reservation at the Three Broomsticks which is practically unheard of. I don't know whether Madam Rosmerta wants to kiss Dumbledore or kick him."
"Other students are skipping any restaurants or sit-down places because they're overrun by couples. Given that those couples probably take their time and take up all the tables instead of getting in and out like usual, she's probably not making nearly as much money as she could," Hermione pointed out.
"So she wants to kick him then."
"Just like the rest of us," Hermione nodded. "Though it is very nice to go out somewhere different. This was an amazing surprise, Ron."
"It's nothing, really," he said. "I'm just glad we managed to achieve that totally-not-a-shack atmosphere I was going for."
"It's not nothing," she denied before giving him a soft smile. "It shows that you put a lot of thought into today. And you certainly nailed the atmosphere."
"I tried," he said as the tips of his ears turned red at her praise.
"So what are you thinking about ordering?"
"Well I have it on good authority that all the food is delicious so there's no wrong answer."
"You say that about most food," she ribbed lightly.
"Hey, I'm a growing boy!"
"And for how long is that excuse going to work?"
"Until I get grey hair and start having to say 'hey, I'm a growing man,'" he answered with a matter-of-fact nod.
She laughed and shook her head before turning back to her menu. There was quiet for a couple of minutes while they looked over the options.
"We should do things like this more often," Ron found himself saying.
"We should," his date agreed. "There's a lot of lovely restaurants in London."
"We could go further that that one day, explore a bit."
"You want to travel?"
"What?" Ron asked. "Does it surprise you to know that I want to travel? I want to try food all over the world."
"When you say it like that, I'm less surprised," she laughed. "But I would love to travel."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I've been lucky to go to so many places already," she admitted. "Though I have always wanted to visit Egypt."
"Oh, I've been there," Ron said brightly. "We should show each other all the places we've already been."
"That sounds fun," she said. "I'd love another chance to explore the Louvre."
"Isn't that the big museum in France?"
"Yes," she agreed. "Though it's so much more than that. It's got this amazing…"
In later years, Hermione would reflect back on this dinner and think about it fondly. She would remember it as one of the first times they'd planned a future together beyond the war. The thoughtful gift he gave her before the dessert course wasn't nearly as good of a gift as the sense of hope their future planning inspired.
"Maybe, just maybe…" Hermione would think later. "Dumbledore might have been onto something when he spoke about the unique power of love. It certainly got me through the war."
That didn't mean he deserved a swift kick in the rump any less, however.
…
"We know why Voldemort didn't attack Hogsmeade yesterday," Amelia said as she lowered herself into a seat in the Cathedral.
It was Monday afternoon so it was mostly empty. Ron, Harry, and Gareth had a free period though and rushed to the Cathedral as soon as they heard the elder Bones was on her way with news.
"What is it?" Harry asked with concern.
"Vampires," she said as she threw an auror file marked 'Classified' down in front of them. It landed on the table with a smack. Gareth and Ron were already opening it as she continued to speak. "They attacked a muggle settlement off the coast in Devon. We didn't even get the alarm until it was too late."
"Survivors?" the green-eyed teen.
"None," she said with her lips in a flat line. "More than forty dead."
"Damn," he cursed as he clenched his eyes shut.
"This is exactly what we were afraid of," Ron said grimly as he looked up. "These are the kind of hit and run tactics that make him hard to predict and effectively combat."
"How was there no alarm raised?"
"They detect magic," she said simply. "If you continue reading…"
Gareth's face darkened as he flipped through a couple more pages.
"Gods above…" he murmured with a sickened expression.
"They used their hands," Ron said in a disturbed voice. "They didn't raise any alarms."
"We didn't find out until it was too late. It's a rural area."
Harry didn't know what to say for several moments, gathering his thoughts. Gareth closed the file and pushed it back towards Amelia who took it wordlessly.
"The Burrow is in Devon," Ron said with heavy concern.
"Maybe your parents should consider going somewhere safer," Harry said, hinting towards Grimmauld place.
"I'll write them and tell them to move," Ron said. "Or have Bill and Charlie do it, she'll listen to them more even if I am almost seventeen now."
"It'll hit the papers tomorrow morning," Amelia said. "Wait until then."
"Right, I can do that." he said, still looking concerned. That attack was too close to his home for comfort.
"How are the muggles taking it?" Harry asked, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"They're furious, of course," Amelia said, looking even more drawn as she thought about it. "We're doing what we can to minimize the situation."
"Is that the best course of action, minimizing it?" Harry asked. "That isn't going to make them much happier."
"I'm aware," she said dryly. "They've been clear."
None of them mentioned the things the DA had discussed awhile ago. The prospect of the muggle government running a secret agency to surveil the magical world was too immense for them to fully consider right now. They were all a little afraid to acknowledge it which wasn't really a solution for the long-term but right now, they had enough on their plates.
"What's our move here?" Gareth spoke up.
"Do we have any moves?" Harry asked skeptically.
"No," Ron answered simply. "We need more information."
"Lucas is digging around already, he has been for a couple weeks," Amelia said. "But it's not turning up much."
"Even having an inside source doesn't help us here," Gareth sighed.
"We're lucky Brock even knows about the alliance," Ron agreed. "The Dark Lord tends to keep his forces separated with how paranoid he is, especially any creatures he recruits."
"I hate to say it but that's the smart safety and security decision," the monocled woman said. "There's a reason they've always been so hard for us to pin down. He doesn't mobilize them until he plans to move them."
"That's why Brock isn't going to know anything about troop movements unless they're about his own group or it's a joint assignment."
"At least that means we'll probably have some forewarning of a larger-scale attack," Gareth said, trying to be positive.
"What's going on?" Blaise asked as he walked over to their table.
"Hits the Prophet tomorrow," Amelia said as she handed him the file without further comment.
He saw the 'Classified' stamp and took it with a brow raise that fell as he quickly skimmed the contents. His expression darkened slightly as he continued reading. By the end, his face had set entirely into a stoic facade.
"What're we going to do about it?"
"There's nothing we can do," Harry said with obvious irritation. He hated feeling powerless.
"There is always something," Blaise said, locking eyes with the other teen. "Even if it's just sending flowers to the funeral services of the deceased or covering costs."
Harry was silent for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, okay. Good idea."
Internally, Blaise hoped it might absolve some of the guilt he could already see in Harry's eyes. He wasn't sure what about Gryffindors gave them such immense savior complexes but Harry was by far the worst case he'd ever seen. He was also the king of misplaced guilt.
"Aren't there wards that can trigger if a vampire crosses them?"
"Yes but we'd have to place them individually, it can't be added to the same ward net that the existing monitoring scheme is," she answered. "But we've tried that before and it's not effective. They're triggered all the time leading to hundreds of false alarms per week. Despite the prejudices, most of them are not terrorists."
"Maybe a ward that triggers if a certain amount crosses them?" Ron theorized.
"Easily circumvented by entering in a spaced apart straight line," she sighed. "Learned that in the first war."
He winced at that.
"What about one that goes off if too many cross within the same time period whether they're alone or in a group?"
"Let me know if you figure out how to implement it," Amelia said tiredly.
"You've already brainstormed all these ideas, haven't you?" Harry realized. "And realized why they won't work."
"Yes," she said with another sigh as she pinched her nose. "Sorry if that came off short, Mr. Zabini."
"Understandable," he waved off, still looking thoughtful. "I'll bring it up with the rest of the DA and see if we can't figure something out."
"The last one was a good idea," Amelia said. "It's what we've been trying to make work. We've developed two wards that might technically work but they're far too complex to use when you consider where they're being cast and how many times we'd have to do it."
"Can you get us those notes?" he asked immediately. "It'll give us a jumping off point."
"Make sure to bring in Nigel," Harry said. "He's studied a lot of area of effect and exclusion wards tied to stones. Maybe the solution is one of his portable ward stones."
Amelia was quietly surprised for a moment. She wasn't sure why she kept expecting this group to be ineffective when they just took one of her biggest issues, jumped right into it, and had a new idea within seconds. They didn't find the solution instantly, obviously, but they were already clearly working towards it. Maybe in the future, it might not hurt her to have a little more hope about their chances of success in general.
"I'll update the journal about this," Blaise said as he waved the file a little before handing it back to Amelia. "Then see who wants to work on this."
"Thanks, Blaise," Harry said sincerely. The Slytherin teen was a better friend than he really got credit for.
"Yes, thank you," Amelia said before standing up with her file in hand. "I need to get back to the Ministry."
"We have a class soon anyway," Harry said as he stood up as well. "Thanks for bringing this to us as soon as you could."
"Of course."
"We'll get Colin on this right away as well," he said. "See what he can do about mitigating the sensationalism we're sure to see tomorrow in the Prophet."
"I'd appreciate that as well," she said before giving them all a nod and portkeying out of the Cathedral.
"I'm gonna start on this immediately," Blaise said as he pulled out his journal and took a seat.
"I'll pull all the plans we've made up involving responding to vampires," Gareth said, already heading towards their filing cabinets.
Ron and Harry just shared a long, weary look. They had just been discussing how things had seemed almost too quiet since the attack on the hospital. For once, it didn't feel good to be right.
…
"Mum is so bloody stubborn," Ron huffed as he stormed into the Gryffindor common room.
"No?" Ginny gasped with poorly faked shock. "Our Mum? Really?"
"Yes, absolutely ridiculously stubborn," he reiterated, too agitated to pay attention to her sarcasm.
It was just after dinner. The atmosphere in the Great Hall had been subdued during the meal. Despite the news breaking a few days ago, many students were still disturbed by the vampire attack in Devon. While none of them knew any of the muggles who died, hearing that You-Know-Who was using immortal creatures of the night to do his bidding was not comforting.
"Where do you think we got it from?" his sister remarked as she finally pushed away her half-completed essay. "What's got you so worked up?"
"She's refusing to leave the Burrow," he said as he waved her letter around in his hand. "Even after the vampire attack just up the coast!"
"Let me see that," she said with a frown, holding her hand out for the crinkled parchment. Harry cast a privacy charm around their table as she began to skim over the letter quickly.
"Why wouldn't she go to Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked.
Hermione gave him a look that said 'do you really have to ask?'
"I mean I know it's a crap-hole," Harry reiterated. "But why wouldn't she go where it's safer?"
"It's just her and dad at home, she says, and they're happier there," Ginny read. "She says we'll stay at Grimmauld as a family during holidays and summers so we're safe but apparently her and dad alone 'aren't much of a target.'"
"That is not sound logic," Hermione said.
"Definitely not," Ginny sighed.
"And they totally are," Harry pointed out incredulously. "They're known Order members, your dad works in a Ministry department dedicated to muggles, openly loves them, and Voldemort considers them to be blood-traitors."
"Thanks Harry, that's making me feel much better right now," Ron snapped with a note of hysteria in his voice.
"Sorry, mate."
"Harry's right though," Hermione said. Ron gave her a look that said her addition wasn't really helpful. She didn't take offense to the glare, knowing how worked up he was at the moment.
"Weren't you going to have Bill or Charlie write to her?" Harry asked. "I thought you said they'd be more convincing."
"I had them both try and she didn't listen to them either," he said as he threw his hands up. "Bill even tried to tell her that his wards aren't as strong at the ones at Grimmauld Place. All he managed to do was get her to promise not to go out in the orchard since it's not under the wards."
"She's too stubborn," Ginny sighed. "At least she said they'll consider moving."
"Yeah, if something else happens," he huffed. "Which we'd like to avoid. And what if that 'something else' is something happening to them? What would we do without them then? Don't they realize they have seven bloody kids to look after? Seven! That is irresponsible parenting, that is."
Deciding to ignore the fact that most of those kids were almost entirely grown, Ginny shook her head. "Write her again and say all that then. Mum loves that sort of stuff."
"She does?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Well no," Ginny said. "I more meant that she's highly susceptible to a guilt trip."
"Really?" he asked.
"That's how I got a kneazle when I was five, a pet pig at six, a mostly-working broom at ten, and these shiny ear piercings after first year," she said as she showed off the glittering studs she had in them. "See these? Trauma buys real diamonds."
"Wait, that's why we have pigs?" Ron asked incredulously. Hermione looked fairly scandalized by her so-called trauma diamonds.
"Well we had to find a new home for my kneazle after Fred and George nearly traumatized him," she said. "So we got a pig because I used the kneazle-guilt to get one. We have multiple pigs because Mum figured we could breed them and sell them. I got a pet, she got an investment, you got dinner, and Dad got a chore he hates. We're all happy."
"He made me do most of the pig chores," Ron complained.
"See? We're all happy," Ginny repeated with a grin. "At least now it's just Princess, Prince, and Pork-chop."
"Pork-chop?" Hermione asked in a tone that said she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
"Mum told me not to name any babies because she didn't want me to get attached to one we might sell or eat. So I just called it Pork-chop because, well, you know," Ginny shrugged. "I didn't want to forget it could be dinner."
"But Pork-chop is still alive?" she asked hesitantly. She wasn't a vegetarian but she could admit that she didn't have the stomach to raise an animal to eat.
"Yeah because Ron got attached," she said with an eye roll.
"It's hard not to when I was the only one out there cleaning up after them!" he huffed. "And he was always was so soft and sweet."
"You know how much Ron loves a soft, sweet pork-chop," Ginny joked.
"Very true," Hermione said as she laughed. "We should spend more time together, Ginny. You have so many stories I've never heard before."
"No, you should not," Ron said emphatically before trying to get the conversation back on track once again. "So I should write again and try to guilt trip her?"
"That's my advice, yeah."
"How?"
"Do you not know how to work a guilt trip, Ron?"
"Did I get two new pets, a broom, and a piercing?"
"Definitely not. Mum flipped that time you tried to pierce one ear like Bill," she chortled.
"Then you have your answer," he said with a light glare.
"You tried to pierce your ear like Bill?" Hermione asked, laughing a little and trying to picture it.
"I succeeded," he corrected with a flush and angry look towards his sister. "And I looked dashing."
"You tried to hide it under a big knitted hat at dinner in the dead of summer," Ginny said as she continued chortling. "It looked like you'd been attacked because of all the dried blood on your neck. Mum freaked out."
"Yeah then she healed my ear and fire-called Bill so she could yell at us both at the same time," he grumbled. "So no, I don't know how to guilt trip our mother into not taking risks with her own safety. Help me out here."
"Okay, okay," Ginny said, wiping the corner of her eyes as they finally returned to more serious topics. "Start off by agreeing with her-"
"But I don't."
"Did you get the pet kneazle or did I?"
"You did," he muttered.
"So don't interrupt," she warned. "You need to start off with agreeing with her. Say you understand her point, yada yada yada, otherwise she'll go on the defensive."
"Okay, that makes sense," he said with a concentrated look. A tactical approach was something he could respect.
"Of course it does, I'm a genius."
"An evil one," her brother muttered. She ignored him.
"After that you'll open up with that thing you said about what would their seven kids do without them. That's actually a decent start." she complimented. "You have a good line there."
"Uh, thanks?"
"From there, you just need to start the guilt tripping. You're in luck because it's always much more effective if the emotions are real," she said knowledgeably. "Draw on your worried feelings and make them obvious. Go on about how upset you'd be if something happened to either of them. Maybe even mention them needing to be safe at work or when they're out of the house, really hammer in that 'dark, dangerous times for the whole country' thing that the Prophet has been pushing."
"You want me to scare them?"
"Yeah, big time."
"I thought we were guilting them," he said in confusion. Harry and Hermione were sharing looks with each other every so often as they slowly grew more and more concerned.
"That's one part of it," she said. "But fear is a powerful motivator so yeah. Make them feel guilty for risking their lives and possibly orphaning us, scare the crap out of them, then dangle the solution in front of their face. Say something like 'just remember that Grimmauld place is only a floo away' and they'll have no choice but to see the solution to all their problems."
"All their problems?" he asked. "With problems being guilt, in this case?"
"Yep," she nodded.
"So I'm giving them problems and trying to force them to solve them my way?"
"Exactly," she nodded concisely. "That's the whole goal of a guilt trip; using your own problems to make other people feel guilty enough that they do what you want to solve them. It's really more of a guilt trap, honestly."
Hermione and Harry had upgraded their concerned looked to vaguely horrified ones.
"Huh. You really think it'll work?"
"Just make sure you put enough emotional stuff in there to get to Mum. Getting to Dad is trickier."
"Can it be done? I want this to work."
"Well," Ginny said, scratching her chin thoughtfully. "If you do it right. You'll have to work in something about me being upset."
"You? Why?"
"Because Dad is a sucker anytime there's even a hint of potential tears from me or mum," Ginny snorted. "Now neither of them like to see their baby girl cry but he can't even handle the idea."
"You think that'll get to him?"
"Oh if you use the phrase baby girl in the letter, absolutely. Maybe something like 'Ginny's the baby girl of the family' and how you'd have to take care of me if something happened. Hell, say I've already been crying, even. That'll be way more effective than if you cried, no offense."
"None taken, I know how this works already," he said, waving a hand. He was well-used to Ginny being the favorite as both the baby and the only girl.
"Although," she mused. "It might be a nice touch if you can get a few teardrops on the page, that might help. No more than three though, any more is a dead giveaway. Two is probably enough for you. I can show you the crocodile tears charm; it works way better than water from the tap. If you let them sit on the page for a few seconds before wiping them off, it looks like you tried to hide them but still leaves a recognizable tear-splatter shape. The incantation is 'fictus lacrimae' and-"
"Yeah okay, wait," Ron said as flipped his mum's letter over and pulled half a quill from his pocket. "Let me get this down…"
"Mother of Merlin," Hermione gaped, finally breaking.
"You're bloody terrifying," Harry said seriously as they stared at the younger Gryffindor with wide eyes.
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment," he squawked. "You're downright devious, Ginny."
"Emotional…manipulation," Ron was muttering. He sounded less than sane and they ignored him as they stared at Ginny with fear. "Love…guilt…fear…solution? Pigs."
"I have to agree with Harry a little," Hermione said. Ron hummed and went back to circle 'guilt' and 'pigs.'
"Thank you," she said again with a cheeky wink. "It took a lot of practice."
"Where did you even learn this level of manipulation?" she asked as she gaped at Ginny a little.
"Eh, I picked it up here and there," she shrugged as Ron kept muttering and scribbling down more notes. "I have six older brothers, you know?"
"Terrifying," Harry whispered again.
"Trip not trap…no wait, trap not trip…" Ron said, scratching an itch on his chin and smudging ink all over it. "Scare them…incantation 'fictus lacrimae'…"
Hermione gave him a concerned look because he definitely seemed mad now but she turned her eyes back towards Ginny. She was kind of afraid to take them off the other girl at this point.
"Aren't you glad I'm on your side?" she asked with a wink. "Besides, if you're doing it for the best interest of your family, is it still manipulation?"
"Yes," Hermione answered immediately, thinking similar thoughts to Harry.
"But it comes from a place of love," Ginny defended with a self-assured nod. "And family loyalty."
"Uh huh," Hermione said noncommittally with an expression of disbelief.
"It does!" Ginny insisted. "And I'm nothing if not loyal to my family, right Ron?"
"Yeah, uh huh, uh huh," he agreed distractedly, still absorbed in his notes. "…no more than three tears…crying Ginny…baby girl," he finished, underlining the last two words a few times.
"See?" she said. "Love and loyalty."
"Very convincing," Hermione said, still looking a little unsettled.
"I'll have you know that the hat almost considered me for Hufflepuff, I have that much loyalty," Ginny said with pride.
Harry froze and stared at her like a mouse in front of a snake. Or, more accurately, like a snake in front of a honey badger.
"That makes so much sense," he said in a wavering voice that earned him an odd look.
"Really?" Hermione asked in interested surprise. "I never knew that."
"Oh yeah," she nodded. "I had to fight to get into Gryffindor, actually. Hat said that's what made me a real lion."
Then and there, Harry decided that his fear of Hufflepuff's was entirely valid. He also decided that any semblance of a crush that he'd ever had on Ginny was well and truly dead.
"I had to fight to avoid Ravenclaw," Hermione confided. That didn't surprise any of them though.
"Why didn't you want to be a Raven?" Ginny asked.
"I'd been a stereotyped as a 'nerd' my entire life," she shrugged. "I didn't want to continue that in magical school; it felt like I was starting a new life, a new story. I wanted to be the hero in it instead of just reading about it. That's Gryffindor enough, apparently."
"That's admirable," Ginny said. "Ravenclaw wouldn't have made you any smarter but Gryffindor definitely made you braver. Or at least gave you opportunities to show off how brave you already are."
"Aw, thanks Ginny," Hermione said. Neither of the girls realized the spiral of fear Harry was traversing down as they chatted casually. "I'm sure you would have made a great Hufflepuff."
"Oh I think so," she agreed. "Zara and I get along really well and I have a lot in common with Susan."
'Of course they do and of course she does,' Harry thought incredulously. A Hufflepuff-based conspiracy was growing in his mind and he was positive no-one saw it coming because they underestimated the badgers. 'Well I won't be fooled. Not anymore.'
"I've gotta go," Harry said as he jumped up skittishly, skirting widely around Ginny. "To the bathroom. Uh, and to bed. To the bathroom and to bed."
"Okay Harry," Hermione said as she gave him a confused look.
"I'm gonna finish this letter, see you up there," Ron said distractedly as he set up his workspace. Hermione took pity on him and pulled an undamaged quill and some fresh parchment from her bag for him (if only because she found his focused, ink-smudged face endearing). She'd never seen him so focused on anything that wasn't a tactical map.
"Goodnight, Harry," Ginny called with a friendly wave and smile. In his mind, it looked positively sinister.
"Night!" he managed to get out in a higher pitched voice, hurrying towards the stairs.
"Goodnight," Hermione called after his disappearing back.
"He seem weird to you?" Ginny asked curiously. "He looked a little spooked."
"Yeah, kinda," Hermione said. She figured that she knew exactly what spooked him too but she wasn't going to tell that to the tiny terror sitting across from her. "We'll see him at breakfast, probably."
"Yeah, I guess," Ginny shrugged. "Hey Ron, you want some help with that rough draft?"
"Please," he said, finally looking up from it momentarily. "I'm trying to remember what you said about using real emotions. How would I do that?"
"What you wanna do is…"
Wisely, Hermione decided to retreat from the common room as well. She wanted to get some sleep tonight and she's not sure that she'd be able to do that if she had to sit through another terrifying lesson from Ginny.
"…you really want them to stew in that fear and angst, you know?" Ginny said as she expounded on her point.
Yes, Hermione decided, a strategic retreat was definitely in order.
…
"Cannonball!" Seamus yelled as he approached the biggest pool of water at a run. Dean was already chasing after his best friend from a ways behind.
"Watch out, you brutes!" Tracey yelled as she and a few of the girls tried to swim away from where he'd land.
"Wooo!" he screamed as he jumped, hitting the water with a loud crack. The girls squealed as they were covered by a wave left in his wake.
"Belly-flop!" Dean yelled, launching himself in right after Seamus with his arms and legs spread wide.
"Bloody Gryffindors," Tracey groaned just before a second splash of water hit her in the face.
The DA was having a great time blowing off some steam in the hot springs attached to the Chamber of Secrets. Ron's seventeenth birthday was the following Monday, the first day of March, so the last Saturday in February had been set aside to celebrate. There had been cake and presents earlier but now they were all focused on unwinding and having a good time.
"Hey, throw that ball back in Dennis!"
"Watch where you're throwing it next time," Dennis told his other brother before kicking the ball back into the springs.
"Don't be such a twerp."
"I'll show you twerp," the younger Creevey brother said before whipping out his wand and sending a slew of water into his brother's face.
"Hey! My wand's with my clothes, that's not fair."
"You need a wand to make a lil' splash?" Dennis teased before making an intentionally larger splash. "You should have paid more attention to the wandless magic lectures."
"Why you-" Colin spluttered. Once the water was out of his face he put on a focused expression. Then he moved his hand quickly up from under the surface in a powerful, palm-open stop motion towards his brother. "Take that!"
A rush of water moved with his hand and splashed up towards the younger blonde. Halfway there, however, gravity got the upper hand and it fell out of the air to splash weakly at Dennis' ankles.
"Damn," Colin said as his mostly-dry brother dissolved into laughter.
"Constant vigilance!" Ron hollered before stealing the ball away from Colin and launching it towards Ginny who was on his team for their water-based game.
Colin launched a more effective wave of water towards Ron in retaliation. A lot of it hit the redhead but some of it splashed out towards the edge of the springs. It hit a transparent shield which briefly turned opaque in response. Hermione, who was laying on a lounger behind said shield, only looked up from her book for a moment. Though she was wearing a bathing suit and a beach themed wrap-skirt, she hadn't actually gotten in the springs.
"This is nice," Harry sighed as he leaned back in his own lounger to her right. He was mostly dry now from his earlier foray into the springs and was enjoying the chance to relax.
"It is," Hermione agreed before glancing towards the merrily splashing Ron. "The birthday boy seems to be enjoying himself."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I think he needed to blow off a little steam."
"Definitely," she said. "He's been pretty stressed lately. Especially since the guilt-trip he tried on Mrs. Weasley only worked a little."
"At least she agreed to stop doing her own shopping," he said.
"And to stop going into Ottery St. Catchpole," Hermione added.
"Oh," Harry said, exhaling a heavy sigh of remembrance. "Ron almost blew a gasket when he found out she was still going to the muggle market."
"Almost?" Hermione asked with a raised brow. "He was too worked up to even have dessert, Harry."
"That was pretty weird," he agreed. "He barely finished his chicken and he actually let the Hufflepuffs take the rest of the mash without complaining. It was kinda concerning."
"More like downright alarming."
Harry made an amused noise that was quickly lost in the sounds of their friends' enjoyment. Hermione turned her focus back onto her book and Harry scanned the party with cautious eyes as he was wont to do every few minutes.
They'd decided to leave any mead or Gigglewater out of this celebration so at least no one would be tipsy or outright drunk. That wasn't always a given. Though they weren't technically old enough to drink, that had hardly stopped any teenager in the history of forever from doing anything.
However, they were level headed enough to realize that it should only be done very sparingly and had decided to give it a miss since they all still had to make appearances for dinner in the Great Hall.
Harry was glad because it was one less thing for him to worry about and he could actually relax in his lounger with a new Quidditch book. He hadn't had a chance to read it since he'd gotten it for Christmas; it was probably the first book he'd read in a year that was solely for leisure. It was a good one, too, and he already had a few new maneuvers to try and some ideas on how to modify them.
"Harry, can you pass me another butterbeer?" Hermione asked a few minutes later, interrupting his thoughts about the best way to perform a spiral dive and a sloth grip roll at the same time.
"Sure," he said. There was a tray of drinks floating by his elbow and he grabbed one easily, setting it on the table between them.
There was a tiny chattering noise from Hermione's other side and she glanced towards Harry again. "And a little mango for my friend?"
"Coming right up," he said as he wandlessly summoned some from the snack table. A teeny tiny bowl landed in his hands; it was smaller than a thimble and it held two pieces of mango that were no bigger than a corn kernel.
"Thanks," Hermione said as she carefully took it from him between two pinched fingers.
A miniature version of their lounge chairs had been conjured up and was sitting on the table to Hermione's left. A periwinkle colored fairy in what looked like a leafy-bikini was reclined on it looking totally relaxed. With a burst of excited, high-pitched chatter she sat up to take the fruit from the brunette witch.
The little fairy had taken a liking to Hermione. She had been sitting on one of the human-sized loungers getting accidentally splashed by chaotic swimmers when she'd seen the witch cast a shield charm. She'd buzzed over, angrily gesticulating, and Hermione had offered to conjure her a seat of her own. Since then, they seemed to be quietly enjoying each others company.
"Do you want me to open your butterbeer, 'Mione?" Harry asked as he grabbed another for himself.
"Yes please," she answered. "Thank you."
"No problem."
"Do you need another drink?" Hermione asked as she looked towards the fairy at her left again.
She shook her head in the negative and pointed at the tiny cup holder of her lounger. A small flower petal had been rolled into a cone shape; it held a drop of fruit juice like a scoop of ice cream. House-elf magic kept it perfectly spherical. They had enjoyed the challenge of creating tiny treats for the fairies and had taken to it with obvious zeal.
"Just let me know if you do," Hermione offered.
The fairy responded in her buzzing, high pitched voice. Harry thought it sounded oddly like bells and bees. She was smiling too which made her pointed features look all the more enchanting.
"You're welcome, Elva," Hermione responded.
"Pretty name," Harry said with some interest. He hadn't actually gotten a chance to personally meet any of the fairies beyond smiles and waves.
"It is," Hermione agreed as Elva preened at the compliment, twirling a lock of hair around her tiny fingers. It was white but her violet colored glow made it seem like a silvery purple. "The name has Irish roots and can mean white or bright. It has also been translated as elf, noble, and magical being of strength."
"Very suitable then."
The periwinkle fairy seemed to glow a little brighter. She batted tiny eye lashes at him before looking at Hermione and giggling something.
"Oh yes, I should introduce you to my friend. This is Harry," Hermione said a bit belatedly. "Harry, this is Elva."
"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady," Harry said as chivalrously as was possible while shirtless in swim trunks.
"Yes, he is Lord Gryffindor," Hermione answered after another burst of that bells and bees sound.
"I prefer Harry," he interjected before asking curiously: "How do you understand her?"
"Oh, you never learned that charm?" Hermione asked.
"No, I'm not really down here a lot. Is it like a translation charm?"
"No, she speaks perfect English. And French too, apparently," Hermione answered. "The frequency is just a bit off for our ears, so to say. There's a spell to adjust our perception of it. I can cast it on you, if you'd like."
"Please," he said. "How long does it last?"
"A few hours usually," she answered.
"Is it in the journals?"
"Yeah, I'll show you which section it's in later," Hermione said as she drew her wand.
"Thanks," he said as she tapped both of his ears with the polished length of vine wood.
"No problem," she said.
After an odd moment where every voice he heard sounded far too low, his hearing went back to normal. Except, of course, for the fact that Elva's voice sounded only of bells now.
"Do you spend a lot of time in the springs?" Hermione asked the little fairy curiously while Harry was acclimating.
"We live here now," Elva answered as if it were obvious.
"Huh," Harry said.
He realized they spent a lot of time around the hot springs because the Huldra had mentioned as much that night in the forest when Runa had delivered the mysterious map. He hadn't realized they had outright moved in though.
"Oh I see," Hermione said, making a note to ask the house-elves who cared for the springs about their apparently permanent fae residents.
"Did you live in France before?" Harry asked curiously. "Or where did you learn it?"
"The Fae speak many human tongues, even those long forgotten," she answered with a proud lift of her small, pointed chin.
"Really?" Hermione asked with her interest peaking. That was actually quite good to know. "Which ones?"
"Too many to list."
"I have a piece of parchment and a quill around here somewhere, just give me one sec-"
"Whoa there," Harry said as he recognized the gleam in his best friend's eyes. "Research later, fun party conversation now."
"And what would you consider fun then?" she asked with a huff. Research was her idea of fun and seeing as they were currently translating the horcrux removal ritual, it might be important.
"Well I don't know," he admitted. "Most of the parties I go to aren't very fun. Unless you want to talk about our upcoming push for the restructuring of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"
"Oh that does sound like it could be fun," Hermione said, surprised he'd come up with the idea.
"That was sarcasm, Hermione."
"Oh."
"Human parties are weird," Elva said succinctly.
…
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall began with a put-upon expression. "I'm sure you know that the Headmaster is the one you should be asking to leave the grounds and not I, given the state of things."
"I disagree, Professor," he said with a shake of his head. He was sitting in one of the tartan patterned straight-backed chairs in her office. "According to the school bylaws, it's my head of house who I am to raise the issue with."
"Nonetheless, I must insist," she insisted from the other side of her desk.
"I'm afraid, Professor, that I'm not asking permission," he said with a hint of steel in his voice. "I am simply giving you appropriate 24 hour notice. By this time tomorrow, I will be sitting in the Wizengamot chambers to lend my support to an important initiative."
Her brows raised slightly. "I think Headmaster Dumbledore may have something to say about that."
"You're welcome to discuss it with him," Harry said. He had a stubborn expression that Minerva recognized all too well from her years teaching James Potter. "But I won't be approaching the man unless needs absolutely must, Professor. According to the bylaws, my part is done and I've given you sufficient warning. I notice you didn't contest Neville's right to attend when he had this same conversation with you."
"And how do you plan to get to the Ministry if not through the Headmaster's floo?" she asked, conceding the point. They both knew why she might treat Neville differently. Neville wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived.
"I am an adult in the wizarding world, Professor," Harry reminded her with a light grin. "And Hogsmeade also offers floo services."
She gave him a long look before sighing loudly through her nose. "There's no need for that," she decided. "You may use my floo alongside Mr. Longbottom. I will be letting Albus know, however, so don't be surprised if he wishes to discuss any security concerns with you before tomorrow's meeting."
"Thanks, Professor," he said as he stood.
"I hope your need to be at this particular meeting is with good reason, Mr. Potter. Your safety is paramount, as you well know, and it's unwise to leave the wards of Hogwarts unless it is of great importance."
"Oh I promise," he said. "You'll understand once it hits the papers."
"Papers?" she asked with mounting concern as he turned to leave her office.
"Stay tuned, Professor!" he called over his shoulder.
His carefree confidence reminded her of two of her favorite students in the best way. That respectful veneer coupled with that mischievous grin was the perfect mix of his parents. Though he didn't see it, she couldn't help but crack a thin smile at his retreating back.
She supposed she would just have to wait and see.
...
A/N: This one took a little bit longer to post thanks to FanFiction bugging out again. I wasn't able to upload to the Document Manager feature so that was fun. Once again, if anyone is suffering from issues with readability here (buggy links, missing chapters, error messages, etc.) then please know that I also post on Archive of our Own. I use the same title and author name on AO3.
As always, thank you for sticking around this long. I appreciate all of my readers, reviewers, and subscribers. To anyone asking about potential romances for Harry; I will not be pairing him with anyone in this story. I'm choosing not to focus on the romance here and I'm leaving it pretty open-ended so you're free to imagine whatever you like happening after the story ends.