Chapter 30

All legal copyrights of recognizable characters belong to
J. K. Rowling

(And some others who have lots of highly paid solicitors on staff)

Inspiration was provided by the Music from HP movies during keyboarding.
Movies 6, 7.1 & 7.2

Cannot stand listening to HP because the compositions are out of movie order.
Drives me nuts

My computer is so old it can play CD's.

/*

Approx. 5,100 words

As much as Harry wanted to keep the reunion going, the long day finally caught up with him and he begged off head for bed. As he reached the corridor of the Master Suite. Ypres popped next to him.

Harry was surprised. Ypres was acting scared and nervous. The elf had never been anything except calm and dignified. "Master Harry, come quick, there is a big problem."

With that declaration, Ypres touched Harry and they elf apparated to the basement. To the armoury in fact.

Ypres laid his hand on the wall behind which the super-secret safe holding the diary was hidden, and vanished the wall.

Harry dropped to his knees as beyond excruciating pain exploded from the scar on his forehead.

Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO

Harry was surprising himself. Instead of being incapacitated by the pain, he could sense it was being partly blocked. He instantly figured his beginning occlumency was refusing to let all the foreign pain through. Instead of writhing on the ground, hands clamped on his forehead over his curse scar, he was able to function enough to stand up.

Still, he did not notice as Ypres with a finger snap recreated the magic wall, and the pain blessedly lessened.

He stood there for a few moments being overwhelmed by pain memory and thinking this burst of pain was bad, but not as bad as Voldemort's Crutiatius curse from the graveyard. or his confrontation with QuirrellMort in his first year.

When his rational side reappeared, he thought, "Guess that proves old Voldy, his soul bits, and I are connected somehow through my scar. You'd think I'd learn to stop poking the dragon. Bloody hell, that hurt."

Harry heard the quiet 'pop' of house elf apparition and saw Ypres holding out a potion vial containing a yellow liquid. "This is for pain, Master Harald," the elf said.

Harry had trouble with the cap because his hands were shaking, but soon downed the nasty-tasting medicine and immediately felt a decrease in the pain and nausea that exposure to the diary had given him.

"What happened, Ypres?" Harry finally asked.

"I can only guess, Master Harry. Three days ago, I felt uneasy and elf magic led me here. I could sense the evil thing had broken the bond you put on it. However, it was not spreading, and you were due home, and I have checked many times, so I did not tell the Wolfman or your Dogfather. I am sorry Master that it hurt you, will you give me clothes now?"

"Huh, what? Why would I give you clothes?"

Harry was bewildered by the rapid turn of the conversation. From escaping soul horcruxes to clothes for his elf? His headache threatened to bloom anew.

"Because I did not keep you from harm, Master Harald," the elf replied with dignity.

It took a moment for Harry to get over his surprise at the little guy's statement. "No, I don't think I'll be handing out clothes today. However, both of us have learned a valuable lesson."

"I need to be stronger at transfiguration and we need to redo the silver and silk bags regularly. So, how are we going to be able to put that damned book back in a bag without me being disabled by the pain?"

"I can ask other elves if they knows of other things that can stop the Great Evil from escaping again," Ypres answered.

"No," Harry quickly said. "If the very bad wizard ever found out we knew about his evil bits being found, he would kill anyone who knew, and all their family to keep his secret. Then he would move all the bits to some place no one could ever find them again."

"No, Ypres. This is a family secret. We can't put anyone else in danger."

"Including Wolfman and Dogfather?"

Harry pondered a moment. He had not planned on letting anyone in on the hunt for the Horcruxes for the very reasons he had just told Ypres about. Yet, he felt he needed some help. In nearly five months, he felt he had made no progress on either finding Horcruxes or obtaining the way to kill them.

"Maybe later," he temporized.

Harry found he had to balance carefully. He was not over the effects of that Horcruxes on him. Not trusting his walking ability at the moment, he said, "Take me to my bedroom. Please."

And with no feeling of travel, he was standing in front of his suite door. He barely got his pants and jumper off before collapsing in the bed.

He only woke up drenched in sweat only once from a nightmare of Voldemort killing Hermione as she was 'The Spare.'

/*

Harry dragged himself out of bed after an extra hour lie in. A quick shower and fresh clothes had him functional enough to head for the kitchen and join a tea-drinking Lupin at the breakfast table with Sirius showing up a few minutes later.

He was slowly working his way through an English breakfast when he asked Sirius what should he tell Hermione to bring to the Yule rituals the day after tomorrow. She had been researching the known rituals and had asked Harry what the Grangers should bring.

Sirius thought a moment. "We need the traditional oat cakes, the mulled mead, and some fresh greenery sprigs for the Yule eve fire. Does she bake? The rolled oat cakes with nuts, dried and candied fruit would be the easiest gift to make in a muggle household."

Harry agreed and made a note to send Hedwig off to Hermione shortly. In the meanwhile, Lupin and Sirius started telling stories about past Yule ritual celebrations they had attended. Not all were at Potter Manor.

The stories about his family were usually nostalgicly humorous. Harry felt conflicted because he thought the one story was funny, albeit dangerous. Sirius managed to use a Switching Spell on his father's goblet so that when he went to toss his offering of mead into the bonfire, the switched cloud of 151-proof Demerara Royal Navy Rum practically exploded, dumping a startled James on his arse.

A thought flitted into his mind was the Switching Spell the way those potions that kept appearing in his food and drink? Snape or Bumblydoor? Hmm, Dumbledore. Snape would probably have to do the spell himself whereas the headmaster could get the Hogwarts elves to do the work if approached the right way.

He brought his attention back to his two 'Uncles.' Unlike dinner last night, the three had been enjoying themselves instead of feeling each other out over the new, sort of family, dynamic they had found themselves in.

Harry could now see the other two were once the best of friends now trying to re-establish what they used to have that had been torn asunder by betrayal, mourning, and a decade of separation.

Harry was puzzled at the thought that he was working on coming to trust Lupin, again. His tutoring during the summer, and his easy acceptance of the Grangers, went a long way toward Harry's willingness to forgive the blots on his copybook due to not trying harder to find, and rescue, Harry from his Guards of Durzkaban.

He figured that Dumbles rated the top spot as the Warden.

Harry steered the conversation around to what he thought he had to accomplish during the school holiday. With the help of Lupin, Dr. Granger, and Solicitor Tonks he wanted to become re-established in the non-magical world and become identified as his mother's inheritor.

He wanted to get the respect of his Account Manager. And the way to do that was to get those twenty-thousand galleons he had tempted the goblin with into his hands. The trick was to keep the taxes to a minimum. Harry had gathered from reading his Gringotts statements and listening to Mr. Granger's admittedly amateur advice, that the tax rate on his income in the wizarding world was a lot less than what the Queen's Inland Revenue wanted.

He planned on leaving a large part of his mother's money in the non-magical part of his world. After all, just like his mother planned, Harry would also use the non-magical world as a hiding place for funds in case Voldemort won and then conquered the goblins of Gringotts. Or if Harry died, it would be money the Ministry would know nothing about for his friends and comrades.

Harry was again drawn out of his mind to realize Sirius had asked him a question. "Sorry, Sirius, I was woolgathering."

"I said don't you think it's time to get your owl off to your girl so she has time to prepare her part of the Yule offering? They are coming over tomorrow. Also, check with your elves to see if any robes and cloaks are around that would fit her parents. We might as well give them the full magic world treatment."

The flashes of Sirius working hard at being the godfather his parents had wanted for him were appearing more often. He still had moments where he would obviously be lost in some bad, or even horrific memory, but those lost times were becoming shorter and shorter. And he was trying.

It seemed obvious to Harry that getting professional help was helping the old dog's healing process along much faster than the last time around. That, and not being under the threat of having his soul sucked out by a Ministry dementor, was doing wonders.

Harry retreated to his study, where, after a moment of thought, he grabbed a fountain pen and some twenty-eight-pound vellum and wrote his official Yule invitation to The Grangers. He then added a second sheet with the request for the rolled oat cakes and told her that the Potters would supply the appropriate clothing to the Grangers for the ceremonies.

A quick thought that he needed Hedwig, and his beautiful snowy owl flew in through the study's post-owl window. After a petting and a couple of owl treats, she was winging her way southeast towards London.

Harry spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with his wizard and mundane finances. During a meeting with Lupin, his owl was pressed into service to ask Solicitor Tonks for a short meeting tomorrow morning to see if she could be of any help in his mundane identity quest.

It was just before dinner when Hedwig found Harry and after landing extended her leg to him. As Harry read Hermione's note, he could practically feel her excitement vibrating off the page. She wrote they had gotten an authentic druidic oat cake recipe off the internet.

(What? The internet had recipes? I thought it was only for games," thought Harry.)

She also wrote her parents were looking forward to 'being in costume' for the ceremonies. And since he owed her and her mother some library time, (here she had drawn a winking smiley face) she would like to arrive at half ten o'clock in the morning.

Harry had some trouble getting to sleep that night as he kept thinking that tomorrow, he was going to be treated to a full day of his best friend being in pure Hermione-questing-for-all-types-of-knowledge mode.

And she had told him yesterday that her patience with blindly following him was coming to an end.

At half ten in the morning with a pair of elf pops, the Grangers arrived. The two females passed a large bundle containing oat cakes and other sweetmeats to Ypres and immediately headed off to the treasure room. (The Library.)

The men repaired to the small parlour and there were served tankards of ale by Peama. Harry was given a very small tankard.

"Gahk! This stuff is terrible!" he thought leaving the tankard on an end table after two swallows.

There, the day's work to be done in preparation for the solstice was laid out by Sirius. He included Hector in the work as Hary had passed to Sirius that the Grangers wanted the full magical experience.

Wood gathering for the bonfire was to be done by all four. Sirius said they would be surprised at how much wood they were going to need. Especially as they were mostly unfamiliar with the estate and where the appropriate wood could be found. Ypres or Peama would probably need to help with showing where to find enough firewood. After all, the wood for the manor's fireplaces used for heat and floo travel had to come from somewhere.

Harry's godfather also told them that the house elves had found and brought to the manor a suitable Yule log. After the wood-gathering expedition, the 'family' members would prepare the log with three dished-out hollows that would contain the family's offerings. If Hector thought he was skilled enough, they would supply him with axes and hatchets to hack one of the bowl-like hollows in the log.

After the Yule log preparation, the traditional kegs of mead would be carried up from the cellar to the ritual area. During the woodcutting expedition, whenever they found a Scots Pine, they would take a few branches to be used to purify the ritual area.

At dawn, the family would gather at the fireplace to light the fire under the log containing their gifts to the Earth Mother. And with a small ritual, they would be done.

Sirius said he had already made copies of the Gaelic chants and entreaties needed and had written them in phonetic form so everyone could participate tonight.

With that done, he suggested they retire to the gentlemen's smoking room and see if anyone had any skill at the venerable games of darts, pool, or snooker. Hector cleaned their clocks at the games.

"Misspent youth," the dentist proclaimed. Sirius complained that was supposed to be his line.

After an early lunch, the men gathered and proceeded to perform their duties in preparation for the night. Fortunately for them, Cutting and Featherweight Charms helped with the heavier tasks. Sirius' suggestion that they lighten the mead casks by consuming some of the contents was countered by a mass of banished snowballs from Remus and Harry. Hector even contributed a few normally thrown snowballs.

Hector impressed everyone with his skill with a splitting ax as he created small kindling for the bonfire and tomorrow's Yule log lighting. He passed on trying to hollow a bowl in the Yule log. Sirius seemed to have a problem understanding that a heavy ax could do finer work than a Difendo cutting spell.

It was with good humour that everyone sat to a delicious evening meal.

The group spent the evening playing cards or reading in the parlour. Hector was teaching the other three a game he had learned during his time in the Falklands that was called Poker. The double handful of knuts they had each started with had waxed and waned as the 'pro' went easy on the newbies.

Helen and her daughter were wrapped up in some books they had found in the library. They seemed to be reading up on rituals and intent and had much information to pass back and forth between them.

At quarter past eleven, they all gathered at the door to the garden. The Grangers were treated to a 'house elf robe fitting,' which was accomplished with a pair of finger snaps. With a few warming charms from Sirius and Lupin, the supplicants made their way down the snow-slick paths to the rear of the garden.

Being the only maiden present, Hermione was tasked with the ritual purification of the site by sweeping around the bonfire with her supply of Scots Pine branches. Harry then spoke his request for attention from the spirits of Yule using a scrap of parchment with Sirius' phonetic phrasing. The other four added some short replies and entreaties before Hary raised his wand and with an Incendio, the bonfire was lit.

The five spent the next twenty or so minutes quietly talking eating oat cake, sweetmeats and drinking mead. If one of the group fell silent, it was assumed they were requesting a boon from the elemental spirits abroad on such a night.

The last drink of mead in a goblet and the last bite of a cake were ceremoniously tossed into the bonfire symbolizing the sharing of last year's bounty and strengthening the power of their requests for the coming year.

At midnight, the fire was collapsed into a pile with little flame, but many hot coals, and Ypres appeared with a steel scuttle and magicked it full of hot coals to be used at dawn.

Harry and Hermione were tired from the long day and the two small goblets of mead they had been allowed to drink. They said their goodnights while the adults settled into a bit of conversation before retiring.

The six humans were roused just before dawn and made their way in various stages of wakefulness and dress to the main parlour where the Yule log had been prepared by Ypres and Peama in the fireplace. Oatcakes and what looked to Harry to be fruit cake slices were in the left-hand hollow. Filled mead and wine in cups were in the middle, and fresh-cut greenery from the greenhouse was in the right-hand hollow.

Some sincere entreaties from the Lord Potter for a bountiful year for his House and the log was lit the old-fashioned way with the bonfire's coals and selected kindling to start a soon roaring blaze.

The 'family' sat or stood watching the fire, sipping at elf-supplied cocoa, coffee, and tea. After he was done, Harry walked over to the loveseat that Hermione had commandeered. She was sitting on it lengthwise with her feet up on the cushions, her back against the arm, and her dressing gown covering her legs. He looked at her and she returned a rather challenging eyebrow, daring him. With a smirk, he reached down, picked up her legs, and slid underneath them before replacing them over his lap.

This had the effect of baring virtually her entire leg length as her dressing gown parted before she hurriedly covered them up again.

The two sat quietly, sipping their drinks, but not saying a word. The only reaction either seemed to have was the spectacular sun-rising blush that she developed after he was seated when he refused to let her move her legs away.

The adults looked upon the tableau with partially concealed grins and sidelong glances. With an occasional fatherly glare from Hector.

When the fire was mostly coals and embers, they went to the small dining room for a sumptuous full English breakfast plus extras.

The breakfast seemed to put everyone in a zoned-out mode. Sunday newspapers were leisurely read and traded. Even the two female bibliophiles were reading personal diaries and journals of Potter ancestors.

Ypres had assured Harry that the Granger women would not be in danger of reading some forbidden Potter Family magic and getting punished.

Harry spent a lot of time staring into the middle distance obviously doing some heavy-duty thinking or planning.

Around eleven o'clock, Harry roused from his thinking stupor and asked Hermione to come with him on a walk around the grounds before lunch. It was just cold enough to keep the skiff of snow on the ground frozen.

Jeans and thick jumpers, boots, heavy coats, scarves, wooly hats, and thick mittens were given by Peama or transfigured.

Harry was about to create some warming charms when he remembered that second-years didn't know how to cast warming charms. Instead, as they stepped outside, he had her create those bluebell flames she was famous for.

And it seemed only natural that if one hand was busy carrying the flame, they should loop their arms together on the slippery drive to make sure there were no slip-and-fall accidents.

Hermione had never been on the grounds away from the garden before and looked around as Harry directed her down the entry drive that he had used to approach the manor the first time. He stopped after about fifteen minutes and had her carefully extend her free hand forward.

A tingling shot through her making her jerk her hand back in reflex.

At her look, Harry explained. "That's the Muggle Repelling ward," he said. "You must confuse it because you are a muggleborn, yet magical and you have my permission to pass through the wards protecting the manor."

He led her several steps past the ward line. Hermione could feel the magical line but not see it.

"Hermione, I want you to not overreact to what I hope happens. Just stay calm and I will explain on the way back what is happening."

She looked deep into his eyes trying to figure out what was he doing?

"Dobby House Elf, please come to me," Harry said in a quiet but strong voice.

Ten seconds, then twenty seconds went by. Harry was beginning to wonder if the little guy was going to answer his call. He might be busy, or the Malfoy's might have found out about his attempt at freedom.

Harry was about to give up when with a loud 'crack' the little guy was standing in front of them. Harry took a moment to look carefully at his . . . . friend? His ragged pillowcase seemed filthier than before and one hand was bandaged. His ears were not as wobbly as usual and looked more scarred.

After a moment, Dobby's eyes opened wide as he looked at Harry. "Lord Potter has called for Dobby?" he said with his voice rising to a squeak.

His eyes shifted to Hermione. "Harry Potter has a mate?" he continued, impossibly getting squeakier as he spoke.

Hiding his shock at the question, Harry went down on one knee to be at a better height for talking. "No, no mate yet." Dobby looked as though he had seen something he was puzzled by.

Forcing himself to smile he went on, "Yes Dobby, I did call you. I need to give you something and then I need your help."

"Powerful Lord Potter asks Dobby for help? Dobby will do anything for the Great Harry Potter!" he declared.

"First," Harry said as he reached into a coat pocket, and handed a small package wrapped in red and silver paper with magical shooting comets and exploding fireworks. "This is for you. This is a Christmas present as I thought you would be too busy to see me later. Go ahead, open it."

Eyes wide with wonder, the little elf opened his present. Hermione saw a pair of horribly colour-clashing socks. One was lime green with florescent orange shooting stars and the second sock was brown with whizzing lavender-coloured arrowheads chasing each other across the fabric.

They were the most God-awful things she had ever seen and it shocked her that Harry could mock the little elf by humiliating him with such a grotesque present.

Despite what Harry had asked, she wound herself up to serve him for being an insensitive prat when Dobby threw himself at Harry, clutching onto his leg, all the while babbling that Lord Potter was the bestest elf friend Dobby could ever want.

Hermione was so shocked by the elf's actions that she did not say a word, watching as Harry calmly talked the manic house elf into relaxing.

"Dobby, I know you can't stay long before you are missed, but I need your help," Harry said. "My problem is, did bad master Malfoy use a special box or a wrapping of some kind to protect himself from the bad object he wanted to give to the Weasley daughter?"

Dobby nodded so rapidly that his ears flopped around. "Bad Master uses a box made of publum with an argenta coating on the inside. Dobby hears hims saying without the box he couldn't stay in his study without beings overwhelmed by his Master's gift."

Then to Hermione's vast surprise, after smacking himself in the face, Dobby followed up by saying "Bad Master was very drunk that night."

Harry had been too slow to stop Dobby from punishing himself, but quickly gathered the little elf in a hug both as a gesture of a friend and to keep Dobby from hurting himself further.

The two stayed that way for a few moments before Dobby pulled back and squeaked, "Dobby is called, Dobby must go." And with a crack, he disappeared.

Harry stayed kneeling for a long minute and Hermione got the impression he was berating himself for not being able to keep the little guy from what was, she guessed, an abusive situation.

Her eyes widened as it occurred to her that Dobby looked and acted like Harry from last year. Poorly clothed, badly nourished, physically and mentally abused. Small wonder Harry was trying to do something for the poor elf.

Wordlessly, Harry rose and taking Hermione's hand, they started back up the drive they had walked down on.

Hermione lasted almost five minutes before her overdone brain forced her mouth to start spewing questions.

"So that's another house elf? Where's he from? He doesn't look too healthy. Why is he dressed in rags? Is he abused? Why did he hurt himself? How do you know him? Where did you meet? How does he know you're Lord Potter? How come we had to go outside the wards for you to meet him? Who's his bad master? Can you get the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Elves to have him arrested? What abou . . murf . . king . ."

Harry grabbed her, turned her towards him, and placed his forefinger against her lips. He had had an instant fantasy of wanting to stop her question rant by kissing her, but, if she wasn't his soul mate, that move could possibly kill their deep friendship. And Harry had often told himself that he would rather die than have to stop being a friend to Hermione Granger.

Staring into her dark chocolate eyes, Harry willed her into silence.

"Remember early in the summer, when I wasn't getting any mail from you or Ron? Dobby was the reason why. He was using his elf powers to intercept and keep all the mail sent to me. In his own simple way, he was trying to make me not want to return to Hogwarts this year"

At that pronouncement, Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Yeah, the little guy found that Malfoy's father was plotting to cause trouble for Mister Weasley by giving a dark artifact to Ginny. You've heard the twins talk about the fight between Mister Weasley and Lord Malfoy in the bookstore? That was when he slipped it into her books. I found it on the floor after the fight and took it. Not sure what the stupid thing does, but it is really powerful and like, super dark. And when I'm near it, it gives me a splitting headache."

Her eyes had gotten larger and larger as Harry told his tale. He kept looking at her, she kept looking at him, without seeing him as she was off in her mind thinking.

It took her less than twenty seconds to connect the dots. "So, Dobby warned you about a plot at Hogwarts. You somehow got him to tell you about the plot, and then you swiped the dark object a-a-nd now its . . ."

"Oh my God! You've got it in the manor! That's why you need to make a silver-lined lead box! It's causing you trouble! Do Lupin or Sirius know what you're doing?"

A-a-and that was something that never ceased to amaze Harry. She could add up clues fast enough to leave others breathless.

"No."

Before she could get completely wound up to berate him, he continued, "They're adults, Hermione. Neither would believe that I know what I'm doing."

"Look, this was not a personal attack against me. It was an attack against Hogwarts. Somehow that thing is supposed to wreak havoc in the castle. Why sneak it into Ginny's books if not to have something bad happen in the castle?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for half a minute. "Tell me why you don't trust either Sirius or Lupin with this problem?"

"Merlin, there are times when having a smart girl friend is a pain."

"Lupin had ten years to search for me but accepted the platitudes of Dumbledore that I was fine and in a safe, loving place. He is too much a member of the cult of Dumbledore the Great and Wise. When I hired him, I used a rather harsh oath to keep him from passing any information to Dumbledore. Thanks to him believing that he was allowed seven years of Hogwarts education due to the largess of a beneficent Dumbledore, I don't want for him to decide he owes the old man more loyalty than he does me."

"Sirius' mind is still damaged by his stay in Azkaban. I'm not sure he can keep a secret. Especially when he's talking to his mind healers. Remember. He's going back to St. Mungo's tomorrow and will only be out for Christmas at your parent's house."

Hermione opened her mouth in automatic reflex but did not start rebuking him for his disrespect to Headmaster Dumbledore. He had given her enough cause over the last months to stop her automatic defense of him.

"Anything else about this 'thing'?"

"Yeah, it gives me a headache when I'm near it."

Those were the last words spoken on their walk back to the manor.

AN:

Next, into the Mundane world. Can we get Harry to prove he really is him? Christmas, and we'll see if Hermione can give Harry a revelation. Or maybe we won't get that far.